#edward newgate x reader

[shankss-magnificent-ass]

Imagine the Whitebeard pirates learning how petty you can be

You: *knocks on his door* hey pops

Whitebeard: *just sat down for the first time that evening* you have a talent for picking the least convenient moment possible to need me.

You: oh you don't need to get up, I just need you to listen and do something for me later.

Whitebeard: *squints at you suspiciously* alright?

You: Ace was bullying me earlier, so I need you to ask him what a furry is tomorrow.

Whitebeard: ... a furry?

You: ... Yes

Whitebeard: alright

The next day at breakfast

Whitebeard: Ace, what's a furry?

The crew: *immediately stops moving to gleefully watch Ace squirm*

Ace: *wants to curl up and die* why do you ask?

Whitebeard: I asked you first.

Vista: *leans over to Izou* where's (y/n)? They're gonna miss this.

Izou: they're hiding from Thatch in my room, they pointed out the doors on the kitchen cabinets are warping because he said their chowder was bland and lacked soul.

Vista: wasn't it their mum's recipe?

Izou: yup

Marco: wait, didn't Ace make fun of a picture (y/n) drew yesterday?

Izou and Vista: (⁠☉⁠｡⁠☉⁠)⁠!

Izou: you don't think this, *points at Whitebeard and Ace* has anything to do with that?

Vista: I dunno, but I definitely know I'm gonna go outta my way to stay on their good side from now on.

Izou: A wise choice, I'm doing the same

Marco: I'm not

Izou: Why the hell not?

Marco: I'm not afraid of them.

You: *Grabs his ankle from under the table where you've been hiding the entire time*

Marco: *screams*

You: hehe, you would be wise to be nice to me. I already know what I'll do to you if you don't. It'll knock you outta yer gay little shoes.

Marco: my shoes aren't gay!

Vista: no they're pretty gay, thought you knew.

Izou: *nods his head* it's the tassels

List of Up-and-coming works

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[thesharktanksdriver]

The strongest star (platonic)

This is determination from Whitebeard’s point of view when y/n met him and his crew. I decided to make this to flesh out my first post and also thought it would be fun since y/n is kinda an unreliable narrator in their own way due to forgetting a lot of details and events.

Master-list for the series here

Tag list: @peachsuka28 @emptynessinmyworld @badluckinfrench @j-s-l-m @tigerfang-rage @madokamagicaa @rymtea @angstylittleb1tch @badluckinfrench @emmbny @kenkenmaaa @yunho-leeknow @chibiduck

for as long as Edward Newgate could remember, he wanted a family

As unconventional as it had seemed he had always dreamed of a family of his own

That was his dream that led him to the sea all those years ago

The freedom to pursue and accomplish this with the oceans cruel and caring waves

He’s old now, a man accomplished and still having his family grow

So when Marco brings a small child aboard Newgate can’t help but be a bit giddy

It’s been years since the Moby dick had such a young one aboard its old planks

He remembers like yesterday it once did

Children he found bruised and starved, cold and alone with eyes begging for warmth and comfort despite how scared they were

He was once like that, and he swore he’d not abandon those kids like others did for him

Those children grew up now to be some of his many kids

Years heavy on them as they are for him

He watched them grow from scared to proud and strong

And most of all he watched them grow to be happy with the family harboured on a couple planks of wood on the high sea

Each night rocked by the waves with full bellies and a smile on their faces

So it’s safe to say he is hopeful when Marco marches up, carrying a small child of about 10?

The youngest on the ship as of now was Ace and a few from the spade pirates that assimilated to his crew

But he hadn’t raised them, Moreso taken them in and not having the opportunity to truly nurture them in the way he had wanted

They were teens, a fraction of their lives already lived which meant he missed out on significant moments of it

He hadn’t been able to meet Ace’s brothers or be sure to in-still in him that he’s loved

Hadn’t been able to convince spade that he was more than what everyone in his home thought of him

As an old nostalgic man Newgate missed the feeling of being there for something important like that again

And he thought for a moment he could have that again until he noticed your eyes

He’s seen the terrified, angry and hopeless that looked up at him once before

Most of his sons whom he took under his wing had a variation of that when meeting him

But yours are….something else

He’s reminded of the night sky

A sight that he’s been more than familiar with his entire life as he looked to the stars and wished for people to call home

Despite just being eyes he sees more

Bleak empty darkness, swirling with the unknown with the distant twinkling flecks of stars

They are all encompassing and unassuming at the same time

Pits of dullness that shows the withered age that only a seasoned sailor could have amongst the cruel waves

A loss of innocence and all that a child should have

Yet at the same time somehow retains some of it despite it all

It’s conflicting and hypocritical all at the same time yet it’s there all the same

Those eyes stare up at him, no fear but instead apprehension fills its place

If nothing before could have convinced him that he wanted you apart of his family than this did

But he’s known from the moment you stepped foot on this ship he wanted you to have a home here either way

On the Moby dick you start off as a quiet presence that later grows into something bigger

Perhaps even bigger than yourself as the his sons and daughters seek out your company like moths to a flame

He can’t exactly blame them, not when he himself wants so desperately to grasp and hold that light

But he sees your apprehension when around him

The way in which you try to skirt around his presence as best as possible

Something you do exceedingly well

So Edward for your sake decides to take a seat back and watch what happens

Waits to see you ease up on your own time

God knows the amount of patience he has from dealing with Roger all those years ago and his rowdy kids

So he knows when to back down and let the stage set itself

Watch the act before his role is to come

And Edward does exactly that

He watches and waits

Eddie watches as you draw the crew in like a gravitational pull

It’s slow at first

Your cautious but you let your guard down

At first it’s with Marco

Being the one to take you onboard he decides that your his responsibility and take to it like the mother hen that he is

Seeing you inured stumbling out an alleyway really hit him hard

Perhaps harder than you had even noticed

It gets worse especially after you seem to brush off your injuries

He hovers around you a lot under the excuse of checking your wounds but you seem to know better

You always seem to know better

But either way you don’t say anything and simply grumble a bit about him

Moreso out of annoyance than actual disdain

But either or, Whitebeard watches as his first commander stays by your side

Eventually getting you to drop some of your barriers ever so slightly

Like the chipping in a wall that would lead to a crack

You talk and Marco listens

As do others who eventually join in on listening to some of your stories as you sit between the rails of the railing

Feet dangling through the gaps and swaying back and fourth as you tell stories

Everyone listens

Some even stop in their trail just trying to hear what you tell Marco as he similar sits beside you

Clawed feet of his half Phoenix form and firey blue wings tinged in gold crackling gently

The real breakdown comes when he offers to fly you around

Everyone can see something in you ignite at that

Genuine excitement only caused by child-like wonder

It’s one of the only times on your stay he had seen it

The child buried beneath whatever had happened to you peaking out from the brush

This was a good sign

One that Edward is glad to see himself as you soar with Marco

Blue flames giving you warmth even with the cold harsh winds

When you eventually land once more Edward can’t help but smile at the surpassingly content expression painting your face

That crack in your defence grows

The next to chip away at that metaphorical wall is Thatch

The cook quickly making his ways into your good graces when he has you help about in his kitchen

You seemingly can’t really stay still, mind always racing and wanting to do something

Never taking the time to relax

Thatch says you take to tasks quickly, finishing as quick as you started much to his surprise and exasperation

Whitebeard laughed at that at the time

So you were quick to pick up things

Knowing tasks like the back of your hand no matter how big or small

He’s also seen it, when you gave some of his sons tips in raising the sails or properly cleaning the deck quicker

Thatch won’t admit it to anyone but himself but Whitebeard knows he cooks more food for you than he’d usually would for someone on the ship

Even when Ace or Teach hound him for more food he angrily shoves them off

Then filling your plate once more

Thatch is the one who tells him of the time you cried eating his meals

Mumbling that it reminded you of her

Your mom

Apparently you don’t remember her anymore

Just the vaguest scent of her meals and a glimmer of a smile she would give when cooking

It….sticks with Eddy more than he’d like to admit

Forgetting was an unfortunate thing that came with time

Whitebeard considered himself lucky in not forgetting much over his years

He still remembers the loneliness of his childhood

The bloodshed and alienation on Rocks’s crew

Going off to make his family after the god valley incident

Recruiting his many sons

Finding some cold and alone while others sought him out as a father

Remembers when he first met the idiot he’d call a rival

How Oden would eventually become his little brother and hearing years later of his death by Kaido

The guilt still weighing on his shoulders even now

So in every sense of the word Eddy considers himself lucky in being able to remember

But you don’t have that same privilege

Your memory fraught with missing pieces

Leaving you trailing off for a moment as you regal a story that leaves everyone on deck listening intently

They all notice that you stare off quite often while doing something

Your mind wandering to whatever is it that your thinking of

Sometimes you even mumble to yourself

Though Eddy is never close enough to hear the mumbles others sometimes mention them to him

Names and places

Dates and times

Events and descriptions

But one thing brought up is something that raises his eyebrow

Things only the Roger pirates could’ve know or seen

He already suspected something when seeing the coat draped across your shoulders

You may think your slick in thinking he didn’t recognize that old thing but Eddie knows better

He’d known Roger far too long and arduously to not recognize his gaudy red coat (hypocrite a voice in the void cry’s out)

When his frien….rival was executed he had noticed the coat he wore was different

A darker red and cheaper material

But at the time he gave no thought to it

To wrapped up in a certain kind of grief to really think twice

But now that coat is on your shoulders

Pristine rose red contrasted with the cyan blue of your bandana and cloth sash

You couldn’t have known Roger, your too young to do so

Plus that idiot had two apprentices not three

So that option was x’d out the list

As him and his commanders talked

But you being a kid of one of his members was certainly a possibility

And the only one Edward could ever imagine Roger giving his coat to was Rayleigh and he had essentially dropped off the map years ago

So the conclusion that your maybe Rayleigh’s kid and that he was potentially dead was the conclusion drawn

It’s safe to say that it is something that weighs on not only his commanders mind but also Edwards

Because of the similar situation to Ace

The only other person you had tried to avoid on this crew for some reason

But maybe you somehow knew of his origin and that’s why? But even that seemed unlikely

Roger could keep his lips shut when the situation called for it

Something that he now praised his dead friend for

But on the topic of Ace…it was odd

You avoided Ace like the plague

Whitebeard understood why you avoided him, the giant who was named the strongest man in the world and feared in all blues

But Ace? He was practically a puppy vying for your attention after seeing you interact with literally everyone but him

He’d never thought he’d see his son who’d used to be like a snippy stray dog now practically begging for attention

But here he was

Well, more like they were since literally everyone else on ship it’s finding this all too hilarious

But also kinda sad

It’s not like they’d force you to get along with him if there had been a solid reason

But seemingly there was none

You just avoided him for whatever reason

Jittering in discomfort and leaving when you saw his signature orange hat

And they’d thought it would remain like this

But like all else Whitebeard sees things change

(Just as he saw the sea change when Roger died and ushered a new era)

The final piece to break down that barrier of yours is Ace

The one besides Whitebeard himself you had been the most barred against

It starts with a small conversation

And then on deck he sees both you and ace talk more

And more

And eventually Ace is placing you on his shoulders with his hat on your head

Or taking you out on striker as the smaller boat races around the Moby Dick

It’s a sight for sore eyes

Ace once again lighting up like a bright flame

The same happiness restrained for when talking of his brothers

Or of that person who had given him the small charm he covets as if it were the greatest treasure

Something he had been initially teased for until revealing its story

The small worn down little sun dangling from his wrist representing someone who he wanted to find once more

To thank for caring for him despite his bloodline

Because Ace saw himself as a blotch on the world rather than a blessing

It was something that Ace had hid well but as his father Edward could see the conflict in his eyes

He Tried his best to resolve it but it had yet to go away

But when Ace talks of the Brothers made over a sip of sake, a small sun charm and now seemingly you

It seems for a moment to melt away

Like the strongest of metal being smelted before hardening once more

So Edward watches in amusement as Ace lets you hang from his arm

Or how his son tries his best to seemingly impress your young eyes with tricks of blazing flames

Ace doesn’t seem to notice though that anything he seems to do leaves a proud look in your eyes

But Eddie does

Whitebeard can’t place as to why but he decides to leave it

Simply enjoying his new child and Ace bonding as if they had knew each other for years

The flame brazen boy igniting excitedly like a match as your smaller hands find his and dance to the drunken shanty music

Singing songs you seem to know and regard with an almost melancholy smile as Binks Booze begins to play

Only giving more evidence to your possible heritage

And then you eventually approach Eddie himself

The fearless Whitebeard, strongest man in the world

Golden yellow eyes staring back down towards yours that reflected a starry night

He asks you about your family in which you answer vaguely

Though he expect no less of an answer he notices that the way you explain it is practiced

And despite how practiced it is it leaves him dealing down worry

You’d been on your own for a decent amount of time now

Just seemingly drifting from how you described it

No one but yourself and the sea to keep you company

Only the clothes on your back and small mementos from travels to carry on with you

Whitebeard ponders who the “friends” you’d made along the way but you don’t say names often

Just nicknames

Sneaky but he’s raised enough rebellious boys to see past all the tricks

You change conversation but Edward allows it

Instead you ask him questions, something no one would usually dare to do when being questioned from him

He’d have to admit you have some guts for a kid

Typically he’d call people who did something like that a brat but he lets it slip this one time

And he answers your questions

If only to try and ease you into seeing that he is more than just the epithet of strongest man

That first and foremost he’s a father and perhaps he could be one to you

But instead you inquired about Roger

Another itch to prove your perhaps Rayleigh’s child

So Whitebeard answers truthfully talking about the man he once considered friend

To be honest Edward never really knew how to quite characterize his and Roger’s relationship

On one hand Roger was a man that Edward had respected deeply. Someone who was not only equal in power but also in kindness

God Roger was so stupidly nice to just about everyone as long as you didn’t somehow anger him

But On the other hand Roger was one of the stupidest men alive

Running head first into a battle with nothing prepared

Roger and him were both Friends and Rivals all at the same time

Along with being two sides of a coin

Men who loved more passionately than anyone else

Men who’d do anything to protect all that they loved even if it killed them

In some sense Whitebeard knows he should be happy in being the “victor” in their rivalry yet he’s not

Because they never did settle a score because there was no score to settle

And Eddie no matter how hard he’d try to deny it missed that goof

For as annoying as he was he was equally charming

Something that was infuriating

Because of course Eddie had to become friends with that man

Of course Roger had to go and get himself killed

And it’s Eddie who’s left to mourn

Eddie who’s left to watch the world change and grow old

Eddie is always the one left standing

And it’s there with that you ask him about mourning and how he deals with it

And Edward can’t help but give a pitied stare

A child should not know grief

A child should not know how to mourn

And yet you do

You always seemed to know something your not supposed to

A thing both equally dangerous to you as it is others

……geez you really must be Rayleigh’s kid

Whitebeard smiles, looking down to the coat hung heavy on your shoulders

For a moment he sees Roger there, smiling at him as usual

He tells you that even when someone is gone they leave bits of themselves in the world

Eyes subtly glancing towards a distracted Ace and Izou who listens nearby

Their presence still lingering in all those that they touched by literal and metaphorical

Because when someone leaves you they never really do

They change you

Mold you into the person you are and could become wether that be good or bad

Because Whitebeard despite knowing Oden and Roger are gone can still feel their presence on this ship

The splinters from when battling Roger as he was flung onto the Moby dick

The room in which Oden carved his name in the wood along with Toki’s within the shape of a heart

Sees glimmers of Roger shining through Ace and his firey temper along with his compassion

Watches Izou mumble under his breath about how Oden would have loved to have been on this adventure

Those 3 sake cups still sit in Edwards office

Below a collection of objects and photos of all his lost children

He still mourns them

As any father would

Still wonders if they would forgive him for falling them

But when he does so he remembers their still there

Their fingerprints engraved on a old grizzled heart

At hearing this you nod, pulling that old coat on your shoulders closer

As if someone was hugging you through its luxurious red cloth

His words have seemed to have comforted you and he’s glad

Perhaps even lifting some of the grief off your chest

If so Edward is happy

Because a child should know no grief

And he’d like to change that

Would like to remold your melancholy little heart back to what it should be

That of a happy child

He and his children itch to ask you to stay

But even when Marco offers you a room here

Or when Ace just straight up asks you to stay

You always reply the same way

That like the sea herself you are untethered

Maybe one day you’d find a place but for now you must keep drifting

You have people to meet

Friends you call family to see once more

Everyone here wishes for you to stay

Some ask their father to perhaps to pull the same thing they had pulled with Ace

But Whitebeard doesn’t relent on wanting you to join by your choice

Even when he feels his will want to crack when one night after talking with you under the starry night you fell asleep in his palm

Curled up and small as he feels small tears drip down and pool beside you

Or when it wants to crack even more when he catches you one night in the crows nest singing

The almost haunting sound echoing and reverberating across the ship

The Moby herself sitting at your side, her Klabautermann joining you in song

Or the almost final blow when he realizes that you breath new life in the ship without even knowing it

It’s unseen by your eyes but Whitebeard knows his sons and his ship enough to know when it’s more lively than usual

How your words capture them

He’s watched as you sat atop a barrel telling tales and seeing everyone huddle around you like ducks

Pausing in their duties or even sitting down to ask questions or for you to elaborate more

Grown men and women enraptured by stories of the sea and all its beauty

Even he himself couldn’t help but find himself entranced by your words

The way in which you tell them all are too detailed as to not be true

But Whitebeard does not relent

Does not stop in his judgement no matter how hard it will be to let you go back on that dinky little ship you called your own

It’s sail made of spare sheets with sewn in patches giving it splatters of colour

But when that happens Whitebeard promises to throw you a grand goodbye

Promises that when you do come back they’d have a room ready

That Thatch would make food that reminded you of a once lost home again

That Marco would tend to your wounds and let you scrape the sky

And that Ace would light up with a flame of a stars intensity

But they never were able to throw that goodbye party

That party would be the next one after the one that was meant to just enjoy being with you once more without having to say goodbye

But then you decided you’d help Thatch after seeing he could barely walk in a straight line, so you paused the celebrations for yourself and went to that kitchen celler

Going to place that damned devil fruit to be locked away

But then minutes ticked by

And so Ace decides he’d go find you, saying he’d have to convince you to tell Eddie of your story about the island in the clouds

The joyful atmosphere continues

And then comes Ace’s horrified scream for Marco

Cutting through the atmosphere as the usually chipper boy runs out the kitchen with you in his arms

Bloodied little you

You sit there in Ace’s arms

Bleeding heavily from a large slashing stab that has your blood practically gushing out and into the ground along with Ace’s arms

Despite that though

Despite the pain you should be in Edward spots an oddly content look on your face

Eyes looking up towards Ace but instead of tears filling them it’s a bittersweet look

The look of I’m sorry

Ace and you sit in Edward’s palm

Your small form cradled by his sobbing son who pleads for you

Blood still fresh on his hands and now smeared across Edward’s as well

A child should never die

Let alone in someone’s arms

For they shall carry that weight of them in their arms forever

So he tells ace to lay you down in his Palm

And Ace can only do so reluctantly

Ace turns to run to Marco who’s dashing across the ship but you stop him grabbing his hand

Making his son pause

You smile despite it all, a bright and beautiful smile that rivals the sun and all stars in the sky

Then looking to his charm as you pull out a similar one nestled in that coat pocket of yours

“You found me” it comes out as a pained rasp that makes Whitebeard’s heart ache

It aches more seeing Ace’s expression

Pure grief

Just utter pure grief

Ace clutches you

Begs you not to leave

To please not leave him after finding you

To tell him who did this to you

Your eyes squint as if trying to remember, but then light up with recognition

You give a small laugh, one that makes Whitebeard go still as does Ace

“Zehahaha”

Teach….thats why he wasn’t on deck

As that happens pieces of you shatter

A bright shining gold flashing in the night sky

Sparks of starlight and stardust congregating in the air

Scattering somewhere into the sky

In a fevered state you utter a last word to Ace

Sunshine

When your gone everyone is in a stunned silence

Because what just happened

But then Whitebeard thinks

He thinks all the way back to Roger

The last time he saw Roger the bastard had gotten suddenly silent asking Eddie if he knew of a song, a myth

A star that once dead formed back once more in a new part of the sky

A song was made about it once, something from the Rumbar pirates that had long died among the waves

But then he thinks back further

Back to those 3 days and nights they had fought on that abandoned island

And then he remembers

As Roger sent him flying with a punch Eddie skidded by the Oro Jackson

And for the briefest of moments he thought he spotted something shining in the darkness of a cracked open door

More rather the peering shining eyes of someone

At the time he tried to question Roger but he was as unmoving as a stubborn horse so Eddie had left the topic

He had forgotten of that experience years later

But now it comes rushing back

As does that myth of a undying star

It seems Roger was hinting at something all along

Sly bastard

Seems you weren’t Rayleigh’s kid after all

Maybe you were more Roger’s kid than anything

But….Eddie had taken in one of Roger’s brats before

His sobbing son is evidence of that

And perhaps he will do so again

“Hmf….sly bastard. Their out there, we’ll find them again” his words are spoken with conviction as a sobbing ace looks up to him, his golden eyes soften at his sons expression “their still alive Ace, just displaced when they die. Roger rambled to me a myth about it the last time we met. A star that never died and reappeared in the sky, I thought it was nonsense but maybe he was right”

“But how-“

“Think my boy. How could they be the one who had cared for you all those years ago when they’re that young? My best guess is a devil fruit” he sees the emotions swirl in Ace’s eyes as his sons nods shakily. Hands clutching the sun charm of his bracelet and scared to let go. Edward’s eyes travel from his son to his other children, the gold that was once softened now hardening once more as anger replaced it. Teach….a son now a traitor had to be delt with.

[gatorbites-imagines]

Whitebeard fucker here lol I’ve been summoned. Could you write something with a reader whose used to being the biggest guy around meeting whitebeard and going “ohhh” and wanting to climb that man like a tree? Any and all kinks are up to your choosing monsieur gator!! Also happy birthday man!

Edward “Whitebeard” Newgate x male reader

Headcanons

Bit my lip so fucking hard when I saw this request. Whitebeard enjoyers come assemble!

Thanks for the birthday wish :) I ended up getting a lot of comics and manga, so I’m very happy.

Reader possesses a devil fruit I made up I call the sun-sun Fruit. Hes also like 16 ft 9. Hes also at least 40+ years old. Old man yaoi.

You had known of Whitebeards existence ever since you started traveling the sea, who didn’t? The guy was a legend known as the strongest man alive, someone to avoid if you did the type of business you did.

You were a bit of an everything man. Information gathering, Intimidation, bodyguarding, assassin, anything that paid you a lot and you didn’t have to hurt the innocent, Youd do it.

The world government were cautious of you, but always let you get away with things others wouldn’t, as you also took jobs for them if need be. You played on every board, siding with pirates, with marines, with the poor, and with the rich. As long as they had good reason for asking for your help.

Your Sun-Sun fruit always helped with this as well, making you an extremely powerful fighter, possessing the ability to gather and store solar energy and light itself. After mastering it you could easily create explosions big enough to destroy islands, coat your body in solar energy, or coat your weapons, as well as many other things.

Your preferred weapon were spears, your most beloved weapon a naginata that had been gifted to you after a job well done, some celestial who fanboyed over pirates wanting to give you a big reward. The naginata was supposedly cursed, but you two got along a little too well most days.

All in all, you were well known in your own circles, but nowhere near as much as someone like Whitebeard.

That was also the reason you turned down your latest request to kill Whitebeard. You might have been strong, but you were never an idiot. You might have stood at almost 17 feet, towering over anyone you had ever met, but even you know Whitebeards crew was so loyal it was lethal.

The people giving you the request has been annoyed about you rejecting it, but they could do nothing to stop you as you left, on your way to the next island. There was never a destination in mind if you didn’t have a contract, so you just called it joy sailing.

It was mere coincidence that you found yourself sailing through Whitebeards territory. You had no need for a crew, as you had mastered the skill to create stand-ins with your sun-sun fruit, creating human shaped beings out of condensed solar energy.

The ship you traveled in wasn’t too big either, especially compared to the moby dick. But they had easily spotted you, and your “crew” had spotted them in return. For some reason the whitebeard crew were interested in you, though their interest made your heartrate skyrocket as the moby dick neared your own much smaller ship.

When it became clear they weren’t there to fight, you agreed to link up your ships, even if it was just because you knew they could end you before you would be able to run for it.

Stepping onto the ship, part of you was curious at their lack of reaction to your towering height, even as they had to turn their heads all the way back to look at you to ask questions about your “light crew”, or one of them demanding to know what your favorite food was, or where you got your naginata.

When you finally met Whitebeard though, it all made sense. The guy made even you feel small, even though he wasn’t towering over you the same way you were the rest of his crew. Maybe it was his presence, as he laughed and patted you on the back, greeting you by the nickname the masses called you.

But all you could think about was how seeing someone taller than you made you feel. Just feeling his large hand patting your shoulder, or seeing how he was still taller than you when you sat, was enough for you to think about booking it again.

You had no idea why, but for some reason you stuck around with the Whitebeard crew for a while. To the point where they started acting like you were part of the crew. Even when you tried to turn it down, they’d just give you a knowing look before ignoring your complaints.

In your opinion, you were too old to join someone’s crew, especially with you being known as a “backstabber”, as you never picked one specific side.

And yeah, you knew why you were sticking around for so long. It was all Whitebeard, and that weird, fluttering feeling he gave you, and the arousal he caused, but that was not as important…for the most part.

It was only after the crew had settled on the island to restock that you thought about leaving for real. One of your contacts had called you on your den den mushi, and told you about a very high paying job. You might have been so rich your descendents would live in luxury, but you could never get enough.

Unluckily for you, Whitebeard had overheard the call. He had looked sad about you wanting to leave, but had invited you to join him for a drink before you packed up and went on your way.

That’s how you found yourself sitting beside him in front of a bonfire, just the two of you, both of you decently buzzed and flushed. Your devil fruit power made you mostly immune to alcohol, the heat of the sun burning the alcohol away before it could work, but whatever stuff Whitebeard had on him seemed to have the right kick.

Later you would blame the alcohol for your reaction when Whitebeards hand settled on your lower back. You had abandoned your jacket a while ago, some of Whitebeards crew running off with it to use it for some drunk game they were playing.

Your devil fruit also worked best without too much clothes in the way, meaning Whitebeards hand was right on your back, and your thirsty self had arched into it with a soft groan, your head flopping to the side to rest against him.

Whitebeard had chuckled, but it wasn’t his usual loud guffaw, but something deeper and smoother, like melted dark chocolate or the best whiskey you had ever drank.

His hand had rubbed and massaged your back until you felt like putty, small sparks of light and solar energy flickering across your torso as your control slipped, Whitebeard huffing amusedly at the small jolts it sent through his arm.

You would blush in the future when thinking about it, denying it ever happened, before blaming the alcohol once more. But in that moment, it was impossible to not spill all the thoughts you had about him. How he made you feel so hot inside, how much you fantasied about him, his hands, his height, his cock.

Whitebeard had seemed almost charmed, and maybe he was. It wasn’t every day that someone his age and especially his size had someone fawning over them. Maybe that was why he pulled you into his lap, with your back resting against his chest, as his battle worn hands traveled across the front of your torso.

He murmured and purred into your ears as one of his large, calloused hands groped and pinched at one of your pecs, making you gasp and arch into the touch, legs jolting until his other hand came down to hold your thigh in place.

The praise falling from his lips had you feeling much drunker than you were, vision blurring for a second before you were able to focus again, your own hands grasping at his pantleg as you huffed out a breath.

The veins across your body lit up every now and then from the stored solar energy in your body flickering, causing Whitebeard to chuckle that deep chuckle once more, making some comment about that being a nice party trick.

You were about to snap back a rebuttal, something rude about his own devil fruit power, but before the words could even leave you, the hand gripping your thick slid under your waistband.

Embarrassment flooded your system as you keened, head falling back onto his chest as your hips jolted. And how crazy was that? He was so tall your head fall onto his chest, not his shoulder, not above his own head, his chest.

It had your throbbing even more, immediately coating his palm in a layer of precum, making Whitebeard tsk teasingly, before rubbing the palm against the head of your sensitive shaft, only making you drip even more.

What could you say. You were sensitive. Being your size made it pretty hard to find a partner who could keep up with you, or someone you wouldn’t hurt on accident. And as your fame grew, less and less individuals even wanted to give it a try.

That was why you were keening and whimpering in Whitebeards lap like some kind of virgin, at least that’s what you told yourself to keep your dignity.

It didn’t explain the way you jolted and spilled into his hand when Whitebeard grabbing your chin, turning your head so he could kiss you. Your eyes rolled back, and solar energy flashed across your body as you came, gasping into his mouth, your breath so hot It would have harmed anyone not as sturdy as Whitebeard.

With his lips still pressed against yours he mumbled praise, telling you stuff that had you melting even further into his embrace, hips still jolting and twitching into his hand like you didn’t want it to end.

As you rolled your hips you could feel his own erection, and you almost wanted to pass out from just how big he felt. You had never met anyone who was bigger than you in that way, yet here Whitebeard was, pretty much offering it to you on a silver platter.

The night was spent with Whitebeard wringing more than just a couple of orgasms out of you, at some point leaving you so overstimulated and pleasured that your body had phased out, turning into solar energy.

Whitebeard had cackled loudly at the sight, seeing how you were in so much pleasure you couldn’t even stay solid. When you finally came back to yourself, he placed a big kiss on your cheek and then your mouth, making some teasing comment about it all.

The next morning you couldn’t look his crew in the eye, the knowing looks boring into your large broad back, that for once was wearing a shirt, to cover most of the hickeys their captain had left on you.

And if you just so happened to turn down the job offer your informant gave you, and if you just so happened to attach your ship to their fleet, and you just so happened to start being referred to in the same parental way as Whitebeard, who would be the wiser.

You honestly had no idea how to react when Whitebeards, and you guessed now your, crew started referring to you with a fatherly title in the same way they called Whitebeard Pops. You hadn’t wanted to be open about your relationship with Whitebeard, but to the crew it was so damn obvious.

Even when you and Whitebeard became official, and maybe even married at some point, you still took jobs every now and then, never getting enough of the thrill of money. But it was a lot less, and you pretty much cut all contact with the world government.

Sure, that got you a bounty and a high reward, but you honestly couldn’t care. After all this time you realized, maybe a crew wasn’t so bad. It also helped to have a partner that made you feel safe and cared for, whilst also leaving you limping in the best possible way.

[cyborg-franky]

I want say I really love those big hcs you do, my favorite ones were of the wbp and driving hcs, I laughed so hard.

I wanted to know how you think op characters would react to a jar they can't open? like their partner always comes to them for help opening jars and they're so used to opening them. but what if they couldn't open this one jar? will they leave it? or try harder? I can imagine zoro going 'fuck this' and uses his sword to slice it up bc he refuses to be bested by a damn jar

I read this and I've been laughing about it since you said it because LORD this is the... yes I love this, please accept these headcannons.

IF ANYONE WANTS ANY OTHER CHARACTERS FOR THIS, PLEASE TELL ME. I WOULD LOVE THAT

Marco - You turn to Marco when he entered the kitchen. - He’ll look at you with tired eyes curious why it always has to be him when Thatch is right in the kitchen with you. - Usually, Marco has no issue opening the jars for you, but this one? - His half-lidded eyes narrow as he struggles with it. - This leads you to watch the ship’s doctor sit on the counter, one leg a powerful harpy talon as he still struggles to open it. - Feathers of frustration flutter on the once nice clean floor. - Marco using his bird feet, both of them now trying to open the jar while Thatch yells at him about his ’bird ass on my nice clean counters!’ - You aren’t so happy when he leans back on the counter and holds the now open jar in his scaly bird feet. - “Thanks..” “Anytime yoi!” he says happily and is promptly handed a broom and washcloth by Thatch. Ace - Ace loves when you come to him with any problems. - He likes to puff his chest out and look all confident when you hand him the jar to open. - He knows it’s only a little thing, but he enjoys being needed and asked for help by you. - However, when this jar bests him his temper starts to flare, as does his devil fruit abilities. - He tried to heat just the lid, little by little to see if he can loosen it. - Someone walks past and comments on him not having arm strength. - You all hit the deck when you see Ace’s expression sour and he raises his heat just a little too much and the jar shatters. - “Look, it’s open, happy?” He huffs and hands you what’s left of the jar contents.

Thatch - He thinks it’s cute when you need a hand, doesn’t make you feel bad about it, just makes him feel like a good partner. - With that big smile of his he takes the jar from your hands and tries to open it. - “Oh? Looks like I put the lid on too hard last time.” He chuckles and tries to save face. - “It’s a brand new jar Thatch..” - You watch as Thatch tries his best, runs it under hot water, tries again. - He doesn’t give up. - You take it from him after he’s failed for ten minutes and somehow, it’s loose enough for you. - He lowkey has a little breakdown about it.

Izou - Izou is mildly annoyed that you came to him after he’d just done his nails for something as annoying as jar opening. - But he couldn’t say no to you. - Taking the jar, acting like it would be such a simple task. - Oh no, not at all. - He furrowed his brows, painted lips set in a pout as he tried harder. - Wrapping his sleeve around the jar and attempting to open it. - Setting it down on the table, a sigh as he brushed back his hair. - Getting out his guns. - You grabbed him and tried to convince him why shooting at jars of pickles in an enclosed space wasn’t a good idea.

Whitebeard - You are sure Whitebeard can help you. - This jar has bested you all day. - He laughs, big booming chuckles but happy to help you. - He takes the jar in his hands; it looks comically small in his grasp. - Oh, he opens the jar alright. - He accidentally smashes it like it was nothing. - Leaving you to pick the pickles out of his hand like birds eating seeds. - Marco doesn’t think that’s a bad thing and gets many looks. - “I like feeding Marco in phoenix form, relaxing.” The large man says with another laugh. - All eyes on Marco now.

[henrioo]

★彡 EDWARD NEWGATE

➠ One shots

✰ Someone who wants you:

"About being adopted by whitebeard's crew after nobody else wanted you"

➛ Platonic! WhiteBeard Crew x Child! Reader

➠ Series

none yet

[pinkykats-place]

WhiteBeard Pirates x Reader

One Piece Tumblr Fic Recs

Disclaimers!

None of the stories below are mine.

Mostly female reader inserts.

Some contain mature content.

Credit to @yoshida-midoriko for gif.

Note: if you read and enjoy any of these stories - please like, leave a comment and/or reblog original post!

Whitebeard x F!Reader

Summary: Learning Whitebeard could vibrate his own dick, you were determined to try it at least once. How could you not?

Anchored Hearts

Whitebeard x fem!reader

Summary: You and Whitebeard made a promise long ago, but now you both want more.

Little One

Whitebeard x reader

Ace x childhood best friend reader (who he has a crush on)

Whitebeard Pirates x reader

Summary: you like shiny things and you may have a bit of diogenes syndrome, you just like to collect things!

Platonic Ace, Thatch & Marco x fem!reader

Alexa-Yukiyu’s Masterlist

[alastxrs]

could you maybe do a whitebeard and tall husband who's been with each other for years and when marine ford happens and edward is about to get shot by blackbeards crew his husband sacrifices his life

My Darling Captain, I'll Die for You Always!

𝐄𝐝𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐝 "𝐖𝐡𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐝" 𝐍𝐞𝐰𝐠𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐱 𝐌𝐚𝐥𝐞!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐇𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐆𝐫𝐞𝐚�� 𝐖𝐡𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐧…

❝𝐈 𝐰𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐝𝐢𝐞, 𝐈 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐞.❞

Those were the words Captain Edward "Whitebeard" Newgate had promised his husband, Y/N Newgate when they arrived at Marineford.

They had been together through everything.

When the Whitebeard pirates thought of their Captain and Y/N, they thought about how happy the two men had been and how they wouldn't die unless it was to die with each other.

Yet, the fates were not on their side now.

"Teach!! Don't do it!!"

They had already lost Ace, they couldn't lose their captain too.

Marshell D. Teach stood in front of an injured Edward with his crew and guns in their hands.

The giant man was breathing slowly as he stared at his old crewmate.

He had already fought Akainu and that hit him hard.

Whitebeard didn't understand why had betrayed them and killed Hatch, knowing his old son was going to kill him didn't bring him the satisfaction.

Edward closed his eyes as he thought about his husband and their wedding.

The sun was setting, casting a golden glow over the serene beachfront where Edward Newgate and Y/N were about to exchange their vows. The gentle sound of the waves provided a soothing backdrop to the joyous occasion. Edward, towering and imposing as always, stood with a rare softness in his eyes. Today, the mighty Whitebeard looked almost serene, his usual aura of power tempered by the tender emotions of the moment.

Y/N, just an inch shorter than Edward, stood by his side, a mixture of excitement and nervousness evident in his expression. The two men were surrounded by their closest friends and crewmates, all gathered to witness this monumental moment. Despite the rough and tumble nature of their lives, today was about love and unity, and it was clear that everyone present was deeply moved by the occasion.

As the officiant began the ceremony, Edward reached out and took Y/N's hand, his grip firm yet gentle. "From the moment we met, I knew you were someone special," Edward began, his deep voice filled with emotion. "You’ve stood by my side through thick and thin, and I promise to stand by yours for the rest of our days." The sincerity in his words brought tears to many eyes, including Y/N's.

Y/N, with a voice steady but full of feeling, replied, "Edward, you are my anchor, my strength, and my heart. I promise to love you fiercely, to support you always, and to cherish every moment we have together." The two men exchanged rings, simple bands that symbolized their deep commitment to one another.

"Edward Newgate, do you take Y/N L/N to be your lawfully wedded husband?"

"I do."

"Do you, Y/N L/N, take Edward Newgate to be your lawfully wedded husband?"

"I do."

When the officiant pronounced them married, Edward pulled Y/N into a strong embrace, lifting him off his feet slightly. The cheers from their friends and family were deafening, the joy palpable in the air. The two shared a passionate kiss, sealing their vows with a promise of forever.

A sigh escaped the captain's lips as he looked at the man he had once trusted with his life.

At least, Y/N would be safe.

Or so he would think.

"You'll never be my son, Teach."

And that was when Blackbeard pointed his gun at him, he heard the order to shoot him yet he couldn't process the words.

He was ready to die now.

"Y/N NO!!!"

"DON'T DO IT!!"

"DAD NO!!"

He assumed Y/N was trying to fight against the other men to get to him.

He couldn't hear footsteps.

The gunshots went off and yet he never felt a single bullet pierce his skin from the shots, there was no way these pirates were missing the shots on him when he was standing right in front of them.

Suddenly, the gunshots stopped after awhile.

Edward opened his eyes so he could see yet his heart stopped and his eyes widened at the sight in front of him.

Even Teach was surprised at the sight in front of him.

His beloved, Y/N was in front of him.

His body was covered with blood and the slightly smaller husband of his was shaking trying to keep a grasp on living for a little longer.

Though, a smile formed on his lover's lips.

"If you think I'm going to allow you to die without me, you must be insane Edward.." His husband whispered as he turned his head to look at him. "I know you aren't going to escape alive so I might as well die with you."

He couldn't deny that and he couldn't help himself but to chuckle one last time while Y/N moved next to him slowly.

"Til death do us part, you are taking that too literal."

"Well of course, I told you I didn't want to live in a world without you when we were in our prime no?"

"I'm still in my prime, dear."

"Darling, we are old, these young kids are reaching their prime but ours has ended."

The two laughed as their hands intertwined, Edward squeezed his husband's hands.

The Whitebeard pirates cried louder because this would be the final time they would hear their fathers talk. The Marines were quiet while watching the two lovers, some were crying.

While Teach, he looked angry because he didn't understand what the two men said.

"THE ONE PIECE IS REAL!!!"

Gasps were heard around and everyone around couldn't believe what had been said, a lot of people didn't believe that the treasure of Gold D Roger was real.

Before anything else, the two men let out their final breaths.

𝐂𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐍 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐁𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐃 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐇𝐔𝐒𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐅𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐍.

[kaizokuwritings]

ᥫ | one piece men & romance

VOL. 2 ⸻ ❛ legends + yonko edition ❜

➩ the best words to describe a romantic relationship with ROGER, RAYLEIGH, GABAN, SHANKS & NEWGATE

〚 VOL. 1 ⸻ ❛ worst generation edition ❜ 〛

✧ — gol d roger

free and fun. roger doesn't spend a minute of his life regretting anything. he takes things as they come, and he applies this even to his love life. when he loves, roger accepts the good and the bad that your relationship might bring, but he never regrets meeting you. he doesn't get hung up on details, doesn't think much about what he feels, he just accepts that his heart comes and goes, tossed by the oceans and by his desires. he never gets hung up on it, and prefers to laugh and have fun, because to do the opposite would be a waste of time for him.

✧ — silvers rayleigh

instructive and desire. there is nothing more instructive than a relationship with rayleigh. this man will make you discover a lot of things with passion, whether it is by making you discover new regions of the world or new facets of carnal pleasure. rayleigh is not a constant man, like many pirates, but he is flexible, accommodating your desires, your fears, your feelings. he introduces you to a lot of new things, but that doesn't mean you can't teach him anything either, and rayleigh is a very good teacher, and a pretty good student ;)

✧ — scopper gaban

espieglery and provocation. gaban is often honest and blunt in the way he communicates with others, but he is more subtle when it comes to flirting or being minimally romantic. he likes to provoke you, even more so in public, to let his mouth slide against the thin skin of your neck, just to see your body shiver and move ostentatiously closer to him. he will not miss an opportunity to tease you, especially when he sees you blushing under his compliments and jokes.

✧ — shanks

joy and well-being. shanks is like a sun that knows no moon. no matter what happens, no matter how sad you are, shanks' light will always shine on you. he is always blossoming and even more so when he is around you. he will always make you smile, and your well-being is one of his priorities. he knows your complexes and will try to melt them away with his compliments and sincere love. you are one of the most beautiful things that has ever happened to him, and he intends to make sure that you realise this.

✧ — edward newgate

protection and flirting. despite appearances, newgate is a man who is sensitive to love, no matter what form it takes; whether it's platonic love, or passionate love. whitebeard will do everything to protect this, which is undoubtedly his main weakness, and this is why he doesn't make himself very obvious when it comes to his feelings. but, nothing stops him from being open with people he likes, so never hesitate to flirt with him, he loves it, even if he is already in a relationship with you. he loves the sparkle in your eyes as you drop an explicit joke, how it lights a fire in his stomach and how he tries to hide his smile by drinking more.

[VOTE FOR THE NEXT EDITION!]

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 (open) : @gwedosuns + @lolli-ace + @issatheartist + @cherrykamado + @lawscorazon + @nic0-r0bin + @missbeckman + @ochizokulevy + @thewanderinglunarian

© 𝐊𝐀𝐈𝐙𝐎𝐊𝐔𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒. — all rights reserved. do not repost on any platform.

[quinloki]

Marco, Newgate, Jinbe for Pregnancy kink, breeding kink, Praise kink please

I'm going to preface this with - I see Jinbei and Newgate as very fatherly (not Daddy-ly? ) so I don't have much personal head canon for them. (My apologies, I am a horny bastard most of my head canons are horny-based XD)

That said, I will do my best! I'm not uncomfortable with it or put off by it personally, so no harm. Oh my I thought Jinbei was in his mid-50s, seems he's a spry young 46!

Let's do these by Kink - Praise, Breeding, Pregnancy.

Praise Kink:

Marco - FUCK Yes - Marco will have a hard time not praising you, to be honest. Those calloused warm hands slide over your body just as smoothly as his gaze, and his words drip down softly like honey. It's a steady, soothing cadence, and his words delight in every sound and twitch he pulls from you. You purr so sweetly for him, you take him so well, you always listen like a good [insert here].

He certainly doesn't mind getting praised in return, it's always a pleasure to hear your voice. But he gets more from giving than receiving in this case.

Newgate - Yes - Newgate often sings the praises of his sons and his crew, so it's fairly second nature to him. Of course he would praise someone who could stand by his side, and support him in ways that no one else can. That deep voice rumbles through your body like rocks and thunder, in a tone a little different for you than anyone else.

Jinbei - Yes - Of course Jinbei loves to praise you \o/ This is a very positive and supportive gentleman, and you deserve all the praise. Jinbei is a busy guy, and you've stayed by his side through a lot of employment changes. Things always manage to work out, and you always manage to find your way back to him. The warm hands, the warm voice, and the kind words.

His tone of voice for praising you behind closed doors is a little different, but that's just for you to know.

Breeding Kink:

Marco - Sure - Marco is more than happy to fill you up. He loves letting himself go inside you, the noises you make the way you feel throbbing against him. He couldn't possibly ask for more. But there's not really anything else to it - there's no fantasy of using you just for breeding, there's no connection/desire regarding marking you or filling you up. It's not a matter of "It's hard to get overt enthusiasm out of Marco", so much as there's just not that extra connection or spark for him.

Condom or not he just enjoy finishing inside you and bringing you over the edge at the same time (or near enough to count), makes him feel like he hasn't lost his touch.

Newgate - I dunno - I just don't feel like the guy who adopted (sometimes a little forcefully) a couple hundred sons is at all interested in any part of the process for creating biological children. I do think he's a caring enough guy that he would give it a try, if it was a fantasy of yours. I imagine he'd be more enthusiastic and into it if he was breeding you anally, to be honest.

Now, to be fair, breeding kink does not equal pregnancy kink, so I want to make sure I'm clear I'm not saying they go hand in hand. His hesitation isn't because he can't separate the two, his hesitation is because, well, regardless of gender he's more of a "swiggty, swooty he comin' for dat booty" kind of guy.

Jinbei - Yes - This man appreciates the sight of you just overflowing with his seed. The certain way the blood rushes across your skin, how you tremble in pleasure, there's just something different from other times, and he appreciates that difference.

(I wish I had more, but he's a simple guy who has simple pleasures)

Pregnancy Kink:

Marco - I don't think Marco knew he had this kink until you got pregnant. He'd seen/dealt with pregnant people before now, and it never did anything to him. But once you started showing he started to get a feeling that he wasn't sure what to do with. He became nearly feral in the bedroom, and spent most of his free time tending to you - massaging your feet, rubbing your shoulders, offering to feed you and other acts of service. Anything to be around you.

He wrote it off mostly to some instinctual drive to protect you, but the strong desires and urges were almost hard to control. You two ended up sitting down and talking about it and realizing that it was very much a oh god you don't even know for him.

Newgate - No - Pops wishes anyone who is pregnant good luck. May everything go correctly, and may you have many healthy babies. Just leave him out of it. He's not completely averse to the visual of pregnant people, he's just not terribly comfortable around it. Babies and kids? He's good with that, he's Pops after all.

He just doesn't have any interest in the process.

Jinbei - Sure - Jinbei falls into the "you were beautiful before, you are beautiful now" category. He's not turned off or away because you're pregnant, but he's not doing more or less with you because of it. Well, he's doing more with you - your pregnant - he's going to look after you and help you out like a good partner. He does his best to match your energy and pace - in and out of the bedroom.

Sorry, this is a little bare bones for what I usually do ^_^;

Kinky One Piece Head Canon

[moonmoss28]

Hello luv. Congrats on 550! If you're up for it could I please get either #23 or #24 with the big man whitebeard? Preferably with the reader being the one being hurt and hiding it from him. Thank you l! Stay hydrated and have a great day!

I love writing whitebeard<3

I know you’re hurt

Whitebeard x gn Reader

SFW

Word Count: 317

You came back to the Moby Dick after a fight with some marines. Carefully you walked onto the ship, hoping to make a beeline to your room so you could fix your wounds before anyone could see.

“Y/n, my dear you’re back.” Whitebeard spoke from his spot on the deck.

“Ah, yeah, I'm feeling a little tired, so I'm going to go take a nap.” You smiled, ignoring the pain in your side.

Whitebeard raised an eyebrow, he saw straight through your little lie. Standing up and walking towards you, he towered over you.

“I know you’re hurt, Y/n.” He said.

“I’m fine! Really!” You said, looking up at him.

“I can see that blood stain growing, let me help you.” He said, reaching out his hand.

You sighed and took his hand as he guided you to your room, going straight to your bathroom. You sat down on the counter as Whitebeard grabbed a first aid kit from under the sink.

“I can do it on my own, you know?” You said.

“Lift your shirt.” He said, completely ignoring you.

You sighed, lifting your shirt to show off the gash on your side.

“You should be more careful. I worry you know?” He said, carefully cleaning the wound.

You winced in pain a bit, watching as he gently dabbed the gauze to clean up the blood.

“I didn’t want you to worry.” You said, looking down.

Whitebeard lifted your chin to look at him. “Of course I worry, you mean the world to me. Don’t try to hide stuff like this from me.”

“Okay.. I won’t. You mean the world to me too.” You smiled.

“I’m glad to hear that. Now how about we go find Marco to heal your wound and you tell me what happened.” He said, reaching his hand out for you to grab.

“Sounds good.” You smiled, taking his hand.

[thevinsmokerlaw]

Raffle Prize: Riot w/ Whitebeard & gn!reader

a/n: 3rd raffle prize for my beloved @secretsnailor (っ˘з(˘⌣˘ ) ♡ Bee asked for a scenario where reader gets injured during a battle and Whitebeard just goes off with some comfort afterwards. my dear, it's always so much fun writing Whitebeard for you, thank you for the fun prompt and congrats again for being one of the lucky winners! ♡

contains: mention of blood (nothing super descriptive but reader suffers a hit on the head)

word count: 1k

It all happened within the blink of an eye.

You had let your guard down, irritated by someone calling out your name in the midst of the battle. Was it your imagination? Was it one of your comrades in need of help? It was impossible to figure out what was happening in the storm of voices and gunshots surrounding you, the sound of swords clashing ringing in your ears. In the corner of your eye you made out a kaleidoscope of blue and orange flames, and somewhere to your right you noticed Izou and Thatch standing back to back as they made the enemies drop like flies.

Panic rose in your chest when you couldn’t make out the broad silhouette of Whitebeard in the fray; you would have assumed that a man of his height would be easy to spot, but he had disappeared from your sight completely. Did something happen to him? Was it him who called out your name? You slashed at some foe who had the audacity to underestimate you and just when you were about to move forward, a sharp pain flashed through you with an intensity that drove you to your knees. The back of your head was throbbing, you felt dizzy, trying to understand what just happened.

You tried to breathe through the pain with gritted teeth, your vision blurry from the impact and blood dripping down your face. Leaving your back unguarded, what a foolish mistake. All because your heart had yearned for Edward, sorrow bubbling up in it and making you drop your guard before you could have convinced yourself that he was fine; he was the strongest after all. You whined as you reached for the open wound. Nothing Marco couldn’t fix, but until then you somehow had to make it out of here alive.

“What happened? Who did this to you?”

A voice so low and threatening, a big hand scooping you up carefully. You feel warm skin against yours and don’t need to open your eyes to know that he was here now, that you were safe. Your fingers claw into his coat while you still try not to black out from the pain pulsating through every fiber of your body. You mumble out Edward’s name weakly, making him tense up, blind rage flaring up in his stomach – caused by seeing the love of his life hurt like that, by his own irresponsibility to leave you unguarded for a heartbeat, by the horde of bastards who were foolish enough to pick a fight with his family in the first place.

He’s gonna bring them down, one by one.

You feel Whitebeard’s grip around your waist tighten and hear him calling out for Marco, his voice roaring over the battlefield. His whole body vibrates under your fingertips and you can’t tell if it’s the adrenaline rushing through his veins or if it’s his devil fruit ability, barely contained. He puts you down near some big rock, hidden away from the eyes of others by the tall grass surrounding it.

Your vision is still blurred and you can feel your consciousness slipping away slowly, but you don’t fight it – with Whitebeard’s big calloused hand brushing over your cheeks he reassures you that you’re safe now. A few heartbeats later and you make out Marco’s voice, the two men talking in hush voices, until you feel the soothing cold of the phoenix’ flames encasing you. You sigh from the instant pain relief.

“See? All patched up, yoi.” Marco rests a hand on top of your hand and turns toward Whitebeard. “What now, pops?” “I’m gonna put an end to this.”

You rest your still throbbing head against the rock, grateful for Marco’s healing powers, and rub your eyes, blinking away the blood and the dirt, enough to see Whitebeard’s broad back as he walks into the midst of the battlefield, one fist clenched around his naginata. The jolly roger tattoo is hit directly by the sun and once again you’re reminded of how deep his love and devotion runs – for his found family and for you.

The whole air seems electrified once he goes off, unleashing the incredible power he holds and teaching the foe a lesson on humility. You hear the cheerful cries of your crewmates as you lean back smiling, letting the rumbles of his devil fruit powers comfort you. Marco standing next to you whistles through his teeth and flies off once again after exchanging a smile and making sure that you’re okay, knowing well that a certain someone will come pick you up in a heartbeat anyway.

And so when a little later your favorite voice calls out your name, you open your eyes again and beam, reaching out for him to pick you up. Whitebeard is gentle with you, a sheer contrast to the way he just routed the other crew a few minutes prior. He has both hands wrapped around you and lifts you up close to his face where you nuzzle in the crook of his neck, your fingers twirling around the golden curls of his. You feel his pulse under you, heart still beating fast from the rush earlier, and whisper his name against his skin. 

“I’m sorry for letting you out of sight. Does it still hurt?” You shake your head and smile when he places a kiss on your cheek, handling you as if you were made of glass. “I was just being reckless for a moment. And because I couldn’t make you out in the crowd…”

You mumble the last part, a little bit flustered, but Whitebeard just laughs out loud, his whole body shaking from it. He squeezes you tighter and seeks your gaze, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. The way he looks at you can only be described as full of love and longing. After all, you are the owner of his heart; cracked it wide open and filled it with flowers, written your name all over its walls. 

“Now let's get you home. After this day all I’m craving is some booze and lay down with you…”

[rollinouttahere-writes]

Solitude Chapter 2

Prev

Platonic Yandere Whitebeard Pirates x GN Child Reader

5.8k words

Summary: You are finally graced with an opportunity to be off the ship, but can you handle it?

Warnings: kidnapping themes, violent assaults, death, decapitation, angst, trauma, ptsd symptoms, yandere themes

The much requested chapter two is here, and I hope it lives up to expectation! Thank you to everyone who left such kind comments on the last chapter, it really helped to motivate me to continue!

When you lost consciousness after those pirates surrounded you, you honestly hadn’t been expecting to ever wake up. You made the foolish mistake of stealing from them, so now they would make you pay with your life. That made sense to you. It’s what pirates were supposed to do, right?

So why were you still alive? And why were these pirates so… 

Weird.

There wasn’t any other way to describe these people. You stole food from them. You tried to attack them- twice. And that all happened before they even brought you to the ship. They had no reason to do anything that could be considered kind or generous for you, and all the reason to harm or even kill you.

By the time you came to, several things struck you all at once. The most obvious being that you weren’t on the island anymore. You had woken up in an unfamiliar place. All of the walls and the floor were made of wood like your treehouse, but it distinctly was not your treehouse. Other differences trickled in as your senses returned.

The hardest thing to miss was how much your nose hurt. You had become accustomed to the constant ache ever since you broke it all those years ago, but now it once again felt the way it did the day you broke it. Though you could suddenly breathe through your nose with ease rather than having to rely on getting air through your mouth.

Along with that, you found that your hair was gone. Not completely, but it was now extremely short, feeling almost prickly to the touch. Then there was the smell. You smelled weird. While you couldn’t really describe what you smelled like before this, the new, more unnatural scent was impossible to ignore. It was beyond you what could have happened to you in your sleep, much less why.

Eventually, you would get answers, but they didn’t make sense to you.

Your nose hurt because Marco rebroke it to “make it better”. It was fine as it was in your humble opinion. Not perfect by any means, but you were managing it, so you found his efforts extremely unnecessary. Your hair was gone because it was matted together and apparently unsalvageable. This one bothered you less since your scalp didn’t hurt anymore and you no longer had to worry about clumps of hair obscuring your vision. The weird smell coming from you was something called “soap”. You didn’t know what exactly it was or what it was supposed to do beyond make you smell weird, but it was forced upon you every time they made you take a bath regardless.

What you still didn’t understand about all of this was the why. What did they have to gain from doing all of this? They were wasting resources and energy on you for nothing. It’s not like you were helping them just by being there. All that your presence on the ship amounted to was that there was now someone scuttling around the crawlspaces and swiping food from the kitchen. You had all the benefits of a large rat.

Yet they persisted. They kept you fed and clothed, and some of them were even trying to teach you things. Thatch had an ongoing effort to try and teach you how to prepare and cook food. A foolish idea, truly. You just ate whatever he handed to you. Sometimes, if you were particularly full, you would go along with it, but you weren’t any good at it if Thatch’s constant corrections were anything to go off of. Why did it matter if your hands were washed or if you dropped something on the floor? It was unclear.

Then there was Marco and his battle against your illiteracy. This was by far the most frustrating aspect of being trapped on the ship. Reading and writing won’t help you survive. It won’t fill your stomach or kill threats. It all felt pointless and needlessly difficult. There were too many things to remember, and the effort to commit all of it to memory just didn’t seem worth it to you. Especially not when it meant that you had to spend time around Marco the nose-breaker. 

Up to this point, they have kept you trapped on the ship. The reasons varied depending on who you asked. Marco said that it was because they wanted you to be in better health before setting foot on new lands. Thatch’s claim was that they didn’t want to overwhelm you after having spent your life on an unpopulated island. Ace was the only one that you felt was being honest. He laughed and ruffled your hair when you asked, then told you point blank that they all knew you would make a break for it the second you thought you could.

It was your belief that you were damned to be stuck on this ship until the day you died or could pull off an escape, but that all changed today. The Moby Dick had docked at an island to restock the ship’s food supply, and you were going along to help.

This felt like a trick. Possibly a test. Everyone had gone through great lengths to keep you on the ship every other time it had docked, usually by tossing you at Whitebeard and having him hold you until they set sail again. The one time that they didn’t, you did exactly what Ace thought you would and tried to run only for his overgrown cat to stop you. It was nothing short of humiliating to be dragged across the deck by a cat by the straps of your overalls.

But as you stared at the bustling crowd in front of you, you were able to rule out it being a lie. Sure enough, you were off the ship. It’s not like this was your first time seeing a populated island. Whitebeard’s absurd height allowed you to easily spy on the towns they docked at while he held onto you. But now you were in the thick of it, and that was an entirely different experience.

The unending chatter of the people felt like it was assaulting you from all angles, the cobblestones beneath your feet were unnatural, and you couldn’t see a single tree. As much as you were loath to admit it, Thatch had been right. You were overwhelmed.

A hand came down on your head gently, making you tense and look up at the offender. Thatch was crouched down, attempting to be closer to your height, yet still dwarfing you. He regards you with a warm smile, “You feeling okay, kid? If this is too much for you, we can go back to the ship at any time.”

You bristled at the contact, quickly stepping forward and shaking your head to dislodge his hand. Who knows when or if they’ll let you off the ship again, you don’t want to squander this. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see Thatch sag from your actions, then push himself up to his full height with a sigh that was utterly dramatic.

For whatever reason, Thatch seemed oddly focused on gaining your approval. Granted, everyone on the crew made attempts to get close to you, but he was particularly dedicated to the cause. If he wasn’t giving you food or trying to show you how to do something in the kitchen, he would do other strange things like checking on you throughout the day and bringing you back random gifts whenever he left. The purpose behind any of these actions was a mystery to you.

As much as you want to boldly march forward and capitalize on this opportunity to its fullest, your feet feel heavy. All that you want to do is find a quiet, compact place to crawl into and hide in to escape this onslaught of noise and people. 

But… if you never get used to this, you'll never be able to escape. Enduring this seems to be a necessary evil.

Wanting to keep yourself from being ushered back to your prison, you begin marching forward. You had no idea where the market was, but that was neither here nor there. If you didn't show some semblance of bravery towards this new setting, you're sure they'll cut this excursion short. 

Everyone falls into step all around you, obscuring your vision of the surrounding area; though you could still hear the crowds loud and clear. 

Marco's hand settles onto your shoulder, much to your dismay. You scowl at him and try to shimmy away, but he easily holds you in place.  

“Do you remember what I told you? About how you can't just take things here? You need to wait for us to pay for the food before you eat it, okay?”

“I remember… not stupid.” You finally manage to break his hold and quickly relocate yourself to be on the other side of Thatch to maintain some distance. 

Ace chuckled and lightly shoved your shoulder, an action that he claimed to be “playful”, whatever that means. 

“Oh, come on! Don't be like that. Marco is just looking out for you so you don't get in trouble. Besides, you have earned a reputation for having sticky fingers, you know?”

The odd statement immediately prompts you to look down at your hands and rub them together. You then look back up at Ace with scrunched brows, “Not sticky.”

This makes him, as well as a few of the other people in your entourage laugh. Izou speaks up after the laughter dies down to clarify, “He didn't mean it literally. It's a figure of speech. It just means that you have a tendency to take things that aren't yours.”

“Do not,” you grumble quietly, more to yourself than anyone else while stuffing your hands into your pockets. “Just pick things up.”

“Just because someone isn't actively using something doesn't mean it isn't still their's. You've become a real menace to all of the smokers on board, what with your fascination towards lighters.” Marco hums in thought, then tacks on, “Though I suppose all of them smoking less isn't the worst thing that could happen to them.”

Ace groans in annoyance, dropping his head back, “They aren’t smoking less, they’re just harassing me instead. Now I've got half the crew pestering me for a light every minute of the day.” He shoots an accusatory glare your way, “I bet you have some on you right now, don't you?”

Your hands reflexively tighten around the lighters in your pockets, “... No.” Lighters were by far the best thing you've discovered since your abduction. Gone were the days of beating rocks together to make a spark and hoping that it took. Now all you needed was a quick flick of your thumb, and you had a perfect flame. Collecting such a precious tool was important. So what if some other people claimed they “needed” it? They weren't even starting fires. They only ever used them on those smelly sticks whose scent makes your eyes and nose sting. These lighters were obviously put to better use in your care.

“Yeah, right.” Ace drops his scowl and grins again. “I can't stay mad, I guess. I was stealing way more stuff than you when I was your age. I think you and me would've made great friends.”

“Doubt it…”

Ace brings a hand to his chest in mock despair, “So cold! You really are just like me when I was a kid. I bet Luffy would love you.”

Immediately, he started prattling on and on about that brother of his. A common occurrence that you have long since learned to tune out. 

What you decided to focus on instead was how the crowd was getting denser and more loud. Everyone was talking, some even shouting, as the masses all swarmed around one area. What hell is this?

“Damn. Of course we got here when the place is packed.” Thatch surveyed the commotion with a weary look on his face, not appearing to like this anymore than you did. 

Ace, completely unphased, continues walking, “Don't worry, I'm sure at least half of the people will clear out when they see a bunch of pirates walking around. Then we'll have the market all to ourselves.”

This is the market? The place you're supposed to get food from? How awful. How is anyone supposed to get anything when there are so many people here? Everything will be taken in seconds, and all of the noise means that there won't be any animals nearby to hunt. 

Once again, you feel that uncomfortable ache in your gut, accompanied by sweaty palms. You've never seen so many people at once before. Groups were a bad thing at the best of times, but this unending crowd was more than you knew how to handle. It was more than you ever thought was possible. 

Someone touches you again, on the shoulder. Your body goes rigid and you snap your head around to look at the offending hand sharply. It was Thatch. Of course it was him. It usually was.

“We can go back to the ship any time you want. I don't want you to take on more than you can handle.” He smiles, eyes shining with hope, “You can even hold my hand if you need to.”

“No.”

Thatch sulks again. He's good at that. 

As your group enters the market, you're all forced to walk very close together to the point of bumping into each other. You almost grab onto Thatch’s coat to lessen the odds of becoming lost in this crowd, but you refrain. He would absolutely be weird about it. All of them would be. 

To keep yourself from being overwhelmed by all of the people, you focus your attention on scouting for food in hopes that there might still be some left. 

You can't believe what you see. Piles and piles of food are everywhere. Everyone is taking, yet there is such a surplus that there is more than enough to go around for everyone here. How… How is this possible? You never thought so much food could exist at once, and definitely not all in one place!

In your state of shock, you hadn't even realized that you'd stopped walking. Not until someone bumps into you from behind. You stumble forward, but are steadied by a hand on your shoulder. You stiffly look back at who's touching you and see that it's Marco. Your lip curls in disgust, and you're quick to pull away and catch up with everyone else; all while pointedly ignoring him questioning if you were feeling okay. 

“(Y/N)! Why don't you come and pick out something to celebrate your first time off the ship?” 

Thatch is standing by a table among the mountains of food and gesturing you over excitedly. You cautiously approach him while eyeing the wide array of fruit spread out on the table, some that you recognized, some that you don’t. Your eyes settle on a pink fruit that has green leaves coming off of it like spikes.

It was very odd looking. You look up at Thatch while pointing at it, “Devil fruit?”

The plump, middle aged man with graying hair sat at the table laughed loudly and slapped his knee, “A devil fruit? I wouldn’t be working as a fruit peddler if I had that many devil fruits lying around!” 

Thatch also laughs, though not quite as hard. He ruffles your hair, as he so often does, “That’s a dragon fruit. Do you want to try it?”

You’re about to nod, but then you see something out of the corner of your eye. Large red, seed-covered berries that you had recently gotten to try. You ate them by the fistful, loving the sweet and tangy taste they had. Eagerly, you point at them, “Want those.”

The fruit peddler grins, “Your kid’s got a good eye for quality! Between you and me, I’ve got the best ones here! Though I might be a little biased.” He chuckles and stands up, picking up a basket while asking Thatch how many he wants.

Excitement buzzes through you at the prospect of getting to have your newest favorite treat. But unfortunately, your joy was not to last. Marco crouches down next to you, and taps the sign in front of the berries, “Do you remember what these are called?”

“Berries.”

Marco shook his head, “But what kind? Can you try sounding out the word?”

Just like that, your good mood shrivels up and dies. Why must Marco insist on ruining everything? You stare hard at the squiggles on the sign, none of them making sense to you. Of course you couldn’t read this. He knew that you couldn’t. You know that you’ve been told what these berries are called, but you can’t remember it right now.

He doesn’t drop it when you remain silent. He points at the squiggle on the far left side, “Come on, I know you can do it. What sound does this letter make?”

While all of the letters were just shapes to you, this one was the squiggliest of them all, completely lacking in any straight lines. It somewhat resembled a snake to you. Your eyes widen slightly as something clicks in your brain and you recall one of your lessons with Marco.

Marco holds up a card with two shapes on it in front of you. They’re identical, but one is significantly smaller than the other, “And this one is an “S”. It makes a ‘sss’ sound like a snake. Now say it back.”

“Ssss…” You quietly mimic the sound from your memory, making Marco smile.

“Yes, that’s right!” His finger moves to the right, “Now what about this one?”

Your victory was short lived. You stared hard at the second letter, but nothing came to mind. There was nothing about the two straight lines crossed over one another, the horizontal one being shorter than the vertical one, that made you think of a connection to its sound. You were completely and utterly stumped, and you doubted that Marco would let it go.

Movement behind Marco catches your eye, and you see Thatch standing there and… moving his lips but not making any noise? Was he being weird again? Probably. But he was being awfully persistent. He was staring into your eyes while making the same mouth movements over and over again, and you felt compelled to try and understand it.

S… St… Str… Wait-

“Strawberry!” The answer comes out much louder than you had intended, but you couldn’t help it.

Thatch claps excitedly, “There we go, I knew you had it in you!” He closes and reopens one of his eyes quickly, an action you recall being referred to as “winking”. The basket of strawberries is then deposited into your open arms.

“Paid?”

“Yes, they’re all yours, kid.” Thatch watched as you immediately grabbed two and stuffed them into your mouth. His eyes widened and his smile partially drooped, “Hey, wait! You aren’t supposed to eat the stems!”

His reaction makes you pause your chewing. “Poisonous?”

Thatch sighs and his shoulders slump as he scratches the back of his head, “No, they aren’t poisonous, but most people don’t eat that part of it.”

You swallow your mouthful, then grab another berry, “Tastes fine.” With that said, you pop another whole strawberry into your mouth.

He sighs and shakes his head, while muttering something under his breath about “picking his battles”. You two aren’t fighting. Not right now, at least. Perhaps later.

The rest of the food procurement passes by rather uneventfully. Marco mercifully stopped quizzing you after the strawberries, and you were admittedly more focussed on eating than examining your surroundings. By the time you had finished your snack, everyone had finished shopping. 

It was while you were absent-mindedly swinging the empty basket in your hand that your eyes had finally started to wander again. The docks were packed with ships, mainly civilian, but you could see a few pirate flags billowing in the wind. As much as you hated to see them, you couldn’t help but examine each one.

Of course, there was Whitebeard’s Jolly Roger. Though it was still quite far away, the sheer height of the mast made it stand out among the rest. Your eyes flitted from one flag to another, taking them all in in an almost bored daze-

Everything stops.

The world around you falls silent and ceases to exist as you spot a Jolly Roger with a knife stabbed into the top of the skull and poking out one of the eye sockets. 

“Are you sure about this? They’re pirates, we have no idea how they’ll respond. It would be one thing if this was a marine ship, but pirates are too risky!” Mom’s words came out in a rushed hiss.

Dad’s gruff exterior doesn’t waver in the slightest. “Do you think I don’t know that? I don’t like this either, but what else are we supposed to do? We can’t survive here much longer, and there is no telling how long it’ll be before another ship stops here. Or how long it’ll take for that ship to be a “safe” one. I’m going to go speak with them whether you like it or not.”

Mom inhales sharply and drops her head down as her fingers drum on her gaunt waist. She exhales softly, “I know we can’t afford to wait… but there is a lot worse they could do beyond telling us no.”

Dad’s expression finally softened. “I’m aware… I promise that I’m not trying to be thoughtless about this, but we need to act now. There isn’t enough food on this island to feed even one person properly, much less all of us. Our child deserves to have a better life than this.”

“Fine… but I’m coming with you. They might be more sympathetic if we tell them that we have a family at home that is looking for us.”

The wicker basket falls to the ground and rolls away, not that you pay much mind to it as you take off in a sprint. Distantly, you register your name being called out, but you can’t focus on that now as you dart through the once intimidating crowd with one goal in mind.

Mom crouches down and gently cups your face as she speaks in that comforting, soft way she always does with you, “We’re going to be right back, but you need to stay right here until we come back for you, okay?”

Your lips purse, and you anxiously dig your heels into the dirt, “Why are you guys going if it’s so dangerous?”

“Sometimes you need to take risks in life, even when it feels scary.” Dad hazards a glance your way while loading his gun. You aren’t sure why he’s doing that when he isn’t planning on going hunting.

“Can I come? I want to take a risk, too.”

“No.”

Both mom and dad speak at the same time in an equally harsh tone, one exclusively saved for when you do something that could have hurt you or them. You shrink back and frown.

“We’ll be back before you know it, just stay in the treehouse. Please.” Mom kisses your forehead and stands up. “I love you. We’ll be back. I promise.”

A sharp turn nearly makes you fall on your face, but you catch yourself on your hands and push yourself back up. You run as fast as your legs will carry you as you close the distance between you and the ship.

It comes into view, and you spot several people walking off of it. You know them. You can never forget them. Especially not the one with a ratty black mane of hair on his head and face. An eyepatch covers his left eye now, but it isn’t enough to fool you. 

As you quietly creep through the brush, you hear a commotion on the beach. You rush forward until you can see the shoreline. Mom and dad are there, backing away slowly as a large group encroaches on them.

“You want me to give you lot a ride? Does this look like a cruise ship to you? Do you have any idea who I am?” The man with dark hair stalks towards them, looking amused, but also another thing that you couldn’t place. His eyes made you feel nervous despite the fact that he wasn’t looking at you.

“We won’t be freeloaders! We’ll work for our passage! Please, sir, we’re desperate! We have a family at home, please let us get back home to them!” Mom was clutching dad’s arm. Her head swiveled as she saw all of the pirates surrounding them.

The man let out a bark of laughter, “From the looks of you two, they probably already think you’re dead. But, since I’m so nice, I can tell them as much if you tell me where they are. After we’re done here with you two, of course.”

Mom and dad’s faces go pale. “Run!” Dad pushes mom away just as a pirate lunges at them. Dad punches him, then another as mom sprints away.

The knife strapped to your side is ripped free from its confines. You’ll have to thank Ace later for sharpening it for you. Your feet pound against the wood of the docks as you gain on your target. You raise the dagger and get ready to leap at him.

Just as you do, he turns and sees you, and then arms lock around you from behind, yanking you up and back.

Several men rush past dad, chasing mom. One of them, the one that had been speaking, grabs her by her hair, and throws her to the ground. She screams and fights to get her hair free, “Please don’t do this! Please! We’ll leave!”

“Get away from her!” Dad’s voice came out in an enraged bellow. He knocks down the last pirate he was fighting and rips the rifle from his back. He aims it at the pirate attacking mom, and then there’s a loud BANG.

But not from his gun. All you can do is stare powerlessly in horror. Where his head once was is nothing but a bloodied stump. His body sways, then crashes to the ground.

(Y/N), stop! What has gotten into you?!” Thatch’s voice is right behind you as he struggles to keep his hold on you. You thrash wildly as a series of raw screams tear out of your throat. Ace is holding onto your dominant hand and trying to pry the dagger out of it to no avail.

“What’s with that damned brat of yours?” The dark haired man stepped closer, looking almost bored. “They just tried to kill me. I’ve ended lives over far less.”

“C-Captain! Those are Whitebeard’s pirates. Just let it go.” A smaller man puts himself between you and the captain.

“I know who they are, but I think that I deserve an apology at the very least.”

“Capt-” The man is harshly shoved aside by the captain who is now even closer, only adding to your rage.

“You killed them! They just wanted help, and you killed them!” The accusation shreds your throat as you scream it. All of the hands touching you go stiff at your voice.

Mom shrieks dad’s name and begins to sob and fight harder. The man lifts her off the ground by her hair and throws her away. As she’s laying on her back and struggling to breathe, her terrified eyes meet yours.

“Killed who? You’re going to have to be way more specific, kid.”

Just as quickly as mom sees you, she looks away. She frantically looks around as she pushes herself back, then looks up and starts screaming at the top of her lungs, “I’m sorry! I’m so sorry! Get away!”

“That isn’t going to happen, sweetheart. We aren’t going anywhere until we’re done.”

“I saw it!” You don’t answer his question. You can’t.

Mom takes him off guard when she abruptly lunges at him. She unsheathes her hunting knife and swings it at his face. He stumbles and falls, and she goes down with him and keeps stabbing, all while screaming “get away” over and over again.

“I saw it!”

The other pirates throw mom off of him, descending on her like a pack of wild animals.

“I saw it!”

A club slams into the side of mom’s face, sending out a spray of blood and teeth.

“I saw it!”

A foot rams into mom’s stomach, forcing more blood out of her mouth.

“I saw it!”

A sword is stabbed into mom’s leg, keeping her in place. 

“I saw it!”

The dark haired man finally gets to his feet and marches over to mom’s battered, bleeding body and draws his gun. You can’t take it anymore. You turn and run. You run as fast and hard as you can as mom’s screams come to an abrupt end following a gunshot.

“I- I- I-” All words and thoughts fail you. Your body goes limp as loud, painful sobs tear out of you. Your dagger- mom’s dagger- falls and embeds itself into the wood of the dock.

What was wrong with you? He was right there. He was right in front of you, but you couldn’t do anything. You couldn’t will your body to do anything but cry. The wet heat of your tears feels completely alien to you. You haven’t cried since that day. You forgot what it was like. 

“Hold on,” the captain stares hard at the dagger, “I know that knife! That belonged to the bitch that took my eye!” He laughs, and it makes you feel just as sick as it did the last time you heard it, “I should have known their story was a load of shit! Of course that family they were crying about was actually on the island. I wish I would have put that together before, because then I could have-”

In an instant, you see Izou standing next to the captain. A single flintlock pistol is raised, pointing right at the captain’s head. You see his finger tightening around the trigger, then everything goes black as a hand clamps over your eyes.

A deafening gunshot rings out, enforcing a hush over the crowd. After a beat of silence, a shaky voice calls out, “Captain! You! You’re going to-” Another gunshot. Panic breaks out on the docks, you can hear people running and screaming. You don’t react to any of it, you just hang limply in the air. Your tears have run dry. Now you’re just numb.

“Thatch… take them back to the Moby Dick. We can handle this.” Marco is speaking in a tone barely above a whisper. 

You can hear Thatch start to argue, but then he stops with a sigh, “Yeah, you’re right.”

As he begins to walk away, he shifts your limp body in his arms until you’re facing him. Your face is pressed firmly into his shoulder, still preventing you from being able to see any of what was happening around you. Both of your hands grasp his coat tightly.

Time passes elusively. The amount of time it took for you to get to the ship felt unclear. It could have been minutes or hours. You have no idea. Much louder, heavier footsteps snap you out of your trance, but you can’t bring yourself to care enough to turn to look.

“What’s going on?” Ah. It’s Whitebeard. Makes sense, you suppose. 

It takes Thatch a moment to find the right words. “We… found out why the kid hates pirates so much.”

“I see. Do you want me to take (Y/N) back onto the ship for you?” The question makes you tense and clutch Thatch’s clothing even tighter. You don’t know why. You can’t understand anything right now. 

“No… I don’t think that’s a good idea. I should stay with them.” Thatch matches your strength with ease as he all but cradles you.

Whitebeard hums quietly, “Good. You’re doing the right thing.” A loud explosion echoes from a ways away, making you flinch. “I better go check on them. Make sure Ace doesn’t burn down the whole dock.”

Everything after this is a blur. Things are happening around you, and all you can do is go with the motion. What you do know is that you’re in the kitchen with Thatch, and that the contents of the warm mug in your hands is milk with honey. A favorite of yours. You’re pressed against Thatch’s legs as you sip at it.

Generally, you sit with the rocks that once marked your parents graves when you feel upset. Both had been brought onto the ship when you were taken from the island, something that you were begrudgingly grateful for. Yet here you are, choosing to stay with Thatch rather than going to them.

You loved mom and dad. They sacrificed everything for you. Clothes, water, food, their time and energy. Eventually their lives. 

But those rocks weren’t your parents. They couldn’t hug you. They couldn’t kiss your head and tell you that everything would be alright. 

They couldn’t make you milk with honey just the way you like it.

But Thatch could. He could do all of that and more. As if knowing that you were thinking of him, Thatch took a brief break from preparing food to gently pat your head, an action that you had found annoying up until this very moment. How strange. You don’t get it.

The door to the kitchen opens, and Ace walks in. Usually he enters rooms loudly and without a care in the world, but there’s an undeniable caution to his actions. He smiles warmly as he slowly approaches you.

“Hey. You feeling better now?”

You just stare at him blankly.

“Yeah. Figured as much.” Ace gets closer and pulls some rag out of his bag. “We got those pirates taken care of for you. You don’t ever have to worry about them again. There’s just one thing left to get rid of.”

Ace unfurls the rag, revealing it to actually be the flag from the pirate ship. He holds it out to you with one hand, then snaps the fingers of his other hand, creating a small flame. “Do you want to do the honors?”

It takes your foggy mind a moment to figure out what he means, but when it does catch up, a small smile tugs at the corner of your lips. Shifting the mug to one hand, you dig out a lighter from one of your pockets, flick it on, then hold it out to the flag.

You watch it burn to ash, leaving no trace of its history in its wake.

Tag list (first time doing one, sorry to anyone I missed): @epochal-oracle @one-piecelover @mo-on-lotus @dreamland08 @nightreverie @ashortdork @lordchippie @lucyrose9820 @daniissocool5 @star666fox @ladydoe8

[moniheartsluffy]

one piece headcannons pt2

a/n: don’t worry bout nun sweetheart. just laugh n vibe🫡

luffy: we all know how luffy acts but i think that everytime he sees his grandpa or his brothers he starts acting like the whiney kid he was when he was younger.

kidd: him and killer made the “if im not married by 30 then we’re getting married” promise to eachother. killer forgot all about it but the memory of it haunts kidd til this day.

doflamingo: i swear that he has tripped over that feather cape he be wearing.

law but younger: he has dyed doffy’s feather cape black and hid corazon’s and proceeded to help them search for it… (absolute menace)

franky: he has 100% poured water on iceberg in his sleep and til this day he’s never gotten caught.

ussop: for a period of his childhood i feel like he was an adamant believer that he didn’t have a dad. (yassop knew he could’ve sent a letter or sum)

benn becky: acts like the responsible one but is just as irresponsible as shanks when it comes to certain things (THEM FAWKING CIGARETTES THATS RLLY A BLUNT)

sanji: he has a journal(it’s a diary) and he writes little letters to his mom everyday…he’s done it since she passed and he still has all the journals he went through. (damn that’s kinda sad)

whitebeard: as much as he’d hate to admit it…he kinda considers shanks and buggy as his sons seeing as he kinda watched them grow up. (him and roger coparented lol)

roger: he accidentally forgot shanks and buggy on an island…yes it happened more than once. (man ik rayleigh was on his ass..)

[1chaerry]

Inferno's Promise I

summary: a million chances, a million lives, one last try, Ace can't seem to understand why this new recruit keeps running from him and everyone on board, always sticking close to the nurses and creating remedies for Whitebeard but he had always been a curious one.

word count : 4k

Disclaimer: Reader is called 'Saram' meaning 'Human/Person'

Happy valentine's day to the love of my life, Portgas D. Ace

Also, special thanks to @thebunnednun cuz the Pizza Roll fic made me motivated to finally get the first part out!! Part two is on the way.

Ace didn't understand why this new recruit always seemed to be running away from the crewmates when they attempted to talk to her. She always seemed on guard, doing her job diligently, never making mistakes, always knowing what to do and where to do it without even being told. She was supposed to be a nurse but was working under all the Commanders. She never asked anything, never spoke more than needed.

He didn't like it.

People who were on the crew were like family, warmth and ease, sun rays and salty seas, they were not supposed to feel like the harsh rain and cold winters, gloomy winds and tangy rotten fruit.

He knew the feeling of rotten fruit too well and seeing someone like that left a bad taste in his mouth. It itched at him, she always was on the move. Always moving, always staying away from him.

"Saram, get the barrels!" One of the older crewmen yelled out across the deck as he tied the cargo, Ace found himself looking for the woman unconsciously, perched against the railing and eyeing the working crewmates, his eyes landed on the woman, pushing the barrel with her hands, she was rolling it, at first it was strange, the ways she used to solve chores but now it was seen as efficient.

Dark eyes followed her movement, fingers tapping, drumming against the wooden railing quietly with a light tune, hat tipped a bit forward as his eyes tracked her movements. She reminded him of a fox, cautious and alert, she always kept looking around, never one to settle in knew place, yet she did many tasks in short time spans.

"Saram, we ran out of the medicine again, make some more when you're free." Tate's voice called out, the hot pink uniform wearing nurse walking across the deck towards the plainly dressed woman, Saram immediately looked back, eyes going over Tate's silhouette. The former simply nodded in reply to Tate's words.

The drumming of his fingers continued against the wood continued, a calm look on his face as he eyed her, his jaw ticked for a moment as he watched her quietly slip through the crowds of people and get lost in the ship.

His fingers stopped.

And he walked away, the deck had become boring when she walked away.

Marco was sharp.

He picked up on things faster than most of his brothers, as 1st Division Commander he had more responsibilities than anyone under Whitebeard, eyes and senses always sharp and sensitive. Crystal blues watched Saram attentively, the way she was moving fluidly around the deck, so natural, so perfect - new recruits should not be so familiar with the way tasks happened on the Moby Dick, so at ease with the work.

Marco tilted his head slightly, watching her movements, clipboard in hand as his eyes tracked her above the clipboard, he knew that Whitebeard knew that Saram was not some 'new' recruit, she was quiet, spoken when required, understanding tasks without having to be shown and sometimes even shown, she was so one with the crew that it threw Marco off.

Lips tugged into a smirk as he watched Ace eye her calculatingly, Fire Fist's eyes shadowed by his hat, Marco knew that look, the look of interest and intrigue, a scary thing when it's from Ace. Eternal life and immortality, Marco was the embodiment of this, he took pride in it, pride in who he was, yet seeing the way Saram was blending in like a puzzle piece with the crew, he was beginning to be proud of his skills of deciphering people and their potential as well.

A hum left his throat as he ticked off more tasks, blue eyes going over the papers, Tate walked over to him as he looked through the crate piles, a simple look of greeting from the nurse before she scanned the deck for someone, Marco glanced from the papers and watched as the head nurse called the recruit.

"Saram, we ran out of the medicine again, make some more when you're free."

Saram gave a quick nod before walking through the doors and leaving the deck, Marco's glanced at the side where Ace was standing, light flickers of flames around his drumming fingertips, he raised an eyebrow discreetly to himself as he watched the Second Division Commander push himself off the railing and walk away too.

"Drumming fingers? You're in deep, huh, Ace?" Marco murmured to himself with a contemplative smile, reeking of ice and warm sun, sour grapes and sweet citrine.

The taste of iron lingered on her tongue as she chewed on the candy given to her by Tate, her hands churning the medicine, adding drops of gold liquid into the vial as she chewed quietly, the candy was sweet, maybe watermelon flavored too. The infirmary's bleak walls seemed warm and inviting, the sweet candy in her mouth melted slowly. Saram stood by the table as she mixed the medicine, this was her main task, the main reason she was able to join the Whitebeard Pirates, her medicine and the way it was curing Whitebeard.

"The candy is so sweet!" Marie squealed quietly as Tate handed her another one, the bright pink uniform of the nurses seemed to fit perfectly with the infirmary colors, Saram paused and looked around for a tube of silver liquid. Before she could move away from her work station, a tan hand placed the vial in front of her, dull eyes looked up and she took the vial with a quiet thanks, Tate smiled, eyes skimming over the medicine she was preparing.

"You have really steady hands." Marie inputs as she looked dover Tate's shoulder, "Even our hands aren't that steady and we're nurses."

"Your hands are too unstable for that dummy."

Saram paused for a moment, brief and unseen, before nodding and resuming her work, Sophie brought over empty vials for Saram to fill the medicine with. Tate stood and watched with interested eyes as the woman deftly arranged everything and prepared everything properly, so smooth, so natural, for the nurses, the woman fit in just right with them, she knew what to do and where what was, barely asking questions or throwing tantrums or complaining like the crewmen who tended to do it often.

Eventually she was left alone by them after she handed over the medicine to them for storing and administering to Whitebeard, she sighed and looked around the infirmary for a moment, the sunlight coming through the porthole window, the beds were made neatly and the whole place was empty, smelling of disinfectant and sterilizing ointment.

"Maybe, a few minutes...." She murmured and went to the very last bed at the end of the room, right by the porthole window and lay down, pulling the curtain around the bed. She didn't pull the blanket over her or move anything, quietly lying on top of the blanket and bed, not even on the pillow, eyes flickering, the warm sun rays crossed against her face and arms, her eyes closed as she fell into slumber, promising herself to wake up in a few minutes, there was still so much to do.

Saram didn't have the time to rest.

Not when there were so many lives dependent on her.

Mastering all three types of Haki enable Ace to protect himself better and be more alert, Observational Haki allowed him to find people more easily and stay more alert, he'd have to thank Thatch for that. A warm grin planted itself on his face as he walked through the hallways, smiling at his brothers, freckles face drawing smiles from everyone, Ace always brought smiles in everyone's face around him, to him they were true, for them he was the sun, warm and inviting, safe and protective.

"Are you snooping for Saram again?" Marie teased him as he wandered around the sub-infirmaries, the infirmary area was expanded after a tough battle and many wounded cremates, the infirmary area was a different section of the ship to accommodate the large crew, the girl smiled as she walked out of the storage area and Ace rubbed his nape sheepishly, feeling caught.

"Nothing like thaaaat." He drawled but Marie chuckled, she was younger than him and many of the crew members but she was also observing, she picked up on things faster, Marco and Tate praised her on those skills which she took pride in. Ace didn't fool her, he was more that snooping for the new recruit, he was absolutely smitten, everyone already knew, he didn't know that everyone knew of his new profound affections for the new recruit who barely spoke more than needed and had not interacted more than required, it was love at first sight for him, even if he didn't know, they knew that from the first moment Saram arrived on this ship and offered to heal Whitebeard, who was now much more healthy than before and more active, his skin more bright.

"Main infirmary, don't be loud." She smiled and walked away, Ace helping her with the boxes, Makino taught him good manners, this was a good manner, help people, be kind, be nice, be polite, show humility, be firm but soft. He nodded his head and walked away from her at the crossroad of the hallway, the lights hitting against his bare skin as his boots hit the wooden ground with soft taps. The lower levels of the ship were cooler, especially the infirmary section of the ship because the medicine and equipment kept here, it was a refuge for the crew on extremely hot days, only until Tate and Marco and the others came looking annoyed and scolding and driving everyone away from the area because of the crowd.

His hand pushed open the door to the main infirmary, the one where Marco worked more, the one which was used regularly, the one where a certain someone often hid away. Black boots slightly thump against the floor, quiet echoes radiating in the room, his eyes take in the seemingly empty infirmary, it was cold and felt uninviting, no matter how much anyone came here, how much he came here, Ace could never find the infirmary warm, it was always cold and unwelcoming.

Ace's ears picked up the sound of quiet snores, barely even there, if he didn't have observational Haki, he would not have noticed, quietly and nimbly, he walked towards the source of the sound. His steps slowed as he walked over to the last bed, the curtains drawn, hand slowly raising up to the fabric and pulling it slightly away, breathe catching in his throat as the sight of Saram came into view, the warm rays of light fell upon her slumbering figure almost like art, frecks of light across her, hair tousled and sprawled around her head as she breathes in and out slowly, quietly, hands near her face, loosely clenched as she was curled into her self slightly.

Time stood still for a moment as he stared at her, the sight so quiet and peaceful that took away the cold of the infirmary, his eyes were trained on her face, noting how tired she looked, everyone, he, himself, saw her as this strong wall that would never budge, no sign of wear or chips, Saram had painted herself as someone untouchable, unreachable, someone warm, someone tangy, someone dependable, someone kind: but how was she really?

The freckled fire wielder walked soundlessly towards her, the curtain falling back into place as he stood by her head, wordlessly he sat down on the bed's empty space beside her head, blocking the sun's rays from hitting her face, he didn't realize that his body was instinctively providing shade for her, it felt almost natural for him to do so, to sit and cover her from the harshness, to offer comfort to Saram. Ace's hand shifted, brushing away the hair framing her face and letting it linger near her cheek, his eyes softened, face loosening as she snuggled her face against his palm in her sleep.

His body was naturally warmer than others due to his devil fruit, skin always radiating heat, his crewmates would complain when he smothered them in the hot summer, whining or groaning at the hot warmth, but Saram seemed, in her sleep, to seek the warmth of his palm more, the length of his arm was like a source of warmth for her, her fingers and hands loosely pulling it close to her face and body. Ace could not bring himself to pull away from her touch, not when she looked so peaceful and at ease and childlike.

"Who are you, Saram?" Ace murmured, voice quiet, unlike his usual loud, boisterous self.

The sound of the ship's machinery echoing around them, the sound of the crew, the sound of the crates moving, the sound of Whitebeard's laugh - everything faded away into silence and only remained the sound of waves against the ship and around them. Everything faded away as he sat there, his arm held by Saram in her sleep, the warm rays of the sun on his bare back, the Whitebeard tattoo highlighted and reflected in the mirror on the wall, it reflected a picture of a tattoo, a freckled back, a man and woman.

And so Ace sat there, watching her with warm, kind eyes as she slept, lips pulled into a smile as she snuggled into his palm.

"I hope you're having a good dream." He smiled and brushed away the stray hairs on her face.

It was warm.

Warm and comforting, the smell of smoke and sun and salt, the feeling of heat and love and a foundation, she knew this, knew this feeling, knew him.

"Someday, I'll make you my wife, Saram!"

Shadowed eyes, a big bright smile, freckled skin, the freckles on his body and the tattoo on his bicep.

"When I come back, I'll never leave."

Orange hat, red bead necklace, striped thread bracelet, black boots and the sound of familiar laughter.

"I love you, Saram."

Starry nights, stolen kisses on the Striker, Deuce teasing them, the sound of waves, the feeling of salt water on her skin and the heat under the moon.

"Thank you for loving me."

She woke up with a gasp, her lungs unstable, throat closing as she sat up, rubbing her neck, breathing, trying to force herself to breathe, breathe, breathe, breathe, breathe, breathe! Cold sweat dripped down her skin as the cold moonlight fell upon her skin, the warm infirmary clashing against her iced skin, her ears were ringing, her vision blurry and swimming, she needed to get out, she needed to breathe, she needed to move—

"Saram?"

Her head moved instinctively before her eyes moved up, the ringing stopping, vision clearing as the flame walked closer to her, the warmth heating her skin as the cold moonlight hid away, she could breathe now, she could breathe now, she wasn't drowning.

"You okay?"

She didn't trust herself to speak, something was clogging her airways, she was drowning mere seconds ago, she was doing just fine, she was living, she was working, how could she fall apart like? She hadn't touched Fire Fist even a little bit. Why was her body and mind crashing again? Why? Why? Like every time when they touched, why was her soul crashing when she didn't even touch him this time.

"Marco, did Ace come in here by any chance?" She whispered to the doctor who stopped for a moment, his eyes narrowing, blue flames flickered around him for a moment, his instincts screaming.

"I think he did."

Ace leaned against the railing as he stared at the starry skies, eyes trained on the stars in the blue and black sea, his mind was full of Saram, her eyes, the way she worked, the way she solved problems wordlessly, the way she attended to Whitebeard, the way she slept — his face reddened at that thought, that's no good, going down that road of thoughts was bad.

"You like her." Haruta grinned as he perched onto the barrel beside the flame user, caressing his own mug of alcohol as he watched the freckled sun in amusement, "Really, really like her. Love her, I might even say."

"I don't love Saram." Ace retorted.

"I didn't say Saram."

Ace froze before chuckling, shaking his head, "Too witty, Haruta, too witty."

"Gonna tell her?"

"No, I think.." Ace paused as he thought back to the moment in the infirmary, "I think she already knows."

"I didn't ask whether she knows or not, I asked whether you will tell her or not."

"Don't rush me!"

"Might be good to hurry before someone else takes her away — ack!"

Haruta yelped as Ace burst into flames, literally, the latter himself looked surprised of his actions, he panicked and attempted to go back to normal, he pats his body, frantically trying to douse the fire, Haruta cackles loudly, drinking the alcohol, "Fire boy is in love."

"Go sleep!"

Turns out, Ace would have to face his feelings sooner than he had thought, if the situation at the moment indicated anything. He sighed as Whitebeard assigned him onto a mission with Saram, alone, far away, to act as a couple, a married couple. He had felt his heart drop when they announced it, now he watched as his division set up Striker. Saram came a few minutes later, a side bag slung across her body.

"Ready?" She asked quietly, looking Striker, while he kept looking at her side profile. He zoned out and didn't realize that she was calling or talking to him.

"Ace?" She snapped her fingers in front of his face and he flinched before nodding, "Y-Yes! I'm listening, let's go."

He jumped onto Striker first, his flames softening his jump, he looked up to see Saram still on the edge of the ship, a frown, barely visible on her lips, he felt himself raise an eyebrow, this was the first time he saw her hesitating and frowning, "Something wrong?" He asked, placing a hand on his hip.

"We're taking Striker?" She asked, voice quiet like always.

"Of course." He grinned and almost laughed as she shrunk back like a cat, "You, are you scared?"

At his words, Saram shook her head, "I am no—"

"I'll catch you, jump." He grinned, warm and intense, eyes bearing promise, her stomach churned at the intense gaze, dark eyes holding vows.

"Promise?"

"Promise."

She squeezed her eyes and jumped, praying for the best, a gasp left her involuntarily when hot hands gripped her waist, feet not touching the ground, her eyes opened sharply as she looked down at him, the gummy smile with those freckles that painted his face like a canvas, he was warm, radiating heat like the sun, it always kept her safe.

"Told ya I'd catch you." He gave that signature smirk of his and Saram pushed her palm against his face, smothering it as he let out a sound of surprise, letting go of her as she stood to her feet.

"Less talking, more working."

"No thanks?" He rubbed his nose as she placed her bag onto the ground, his eyes tracked how she seemed to walk towards a corner of Striker and put her things in a manner that seemed almost practiced and used to, she even knew to lean away from the jets.

"Lets go, we have a tight schedule." Saram said as she pulled out a small map and traced it with a stencil, Ace grinned and walked towards her, planting his feet firmly against the floor of Striker, he pulled his flames and the small boat surged forward, activated by flames, he glanced back at her, "Hold on tight."

"Alright." She nodded, eyes tracing the map she had in her hand, the stencil held in her hand, she seemed perfectly balanced even as Ace increased the speed of the engines sending it soaring through the waters.

Unknown to Ace, who was looking forward with a smile, following his eternal log pose, Saram looked up at him from her seat on the floor of the small, if not tiny, boat, her eyes softening at the youthful gaze on his face, the sprinkle of sea water against him, the flow of his wavy black hair, the way he held onto his hat with one hand and that signature smug smile of his, a small, barely noticeable smile pulled onto her own lips as she looked back to the map, the Moby Dick far, far away from them.

The journey was not long but it was difficult, it was night now, colder than before, way colder than before, she was quietly watching the waves as Ace used his flames to propel the boat slowly. The latter looked at her before sitting down beside her in the squished space, their sides pressed against each other as they sat side by side.

"You're too close." Saram remarked, eyes on the waves.

"Boats small."

"uh-huh." She gave him an unimpressed look.

"Ace is dead."

The words hurt her, they tore her apart, she knew, she knew he was dead, that he was not coming back, that he was gone buried six feet under with her soul and heart while her body lived on the ground.

"I know." She whispered as she drew the last engravement in the circle.

"Then why—"

"I'll save him, Marco." She says to him through the transponder snail, knelt on the ground, fingertips rough and calloused, it has been days, weeks, months but still she was still in a loop of having dreams of his death, the blood, the tears, the scream, the words he spoke as life left him—

"Thank you for loving me."

A moment of silence before Marco spoke again, "....you know it's not your fault, right, yoi?"

Her hands paused, eyes unfocused, staring at the picture on the wall that she had pinned, that smile, that warmth, the towering height of Whitebeard, the charisma of Izou, the witty remarks of Thatch, the smug smile of Marco and the way everyone in the picture was smiling and playing around.

"It doesn't reduce the guilt of surviving when they didn't." She whispered but Marco caught it, something in him stirred, a fear of sorts, he knew that Saram could be rash in her decisions, he had a feeling she was doing something she shouldn't.

"Saram," His voice was low as he began, "Where is the book of Kronos, yoi?"

Saram smiled to herself and looked at the transponder snail, not replying and that deepened his fear, the book of Kronos was a book they obtained from a merchant, said to have the ability to transcend time, Izou and Whitebeard always used to say that messing with time had repercussions, that time was horrid and that it should not be touched, therefore the book was hidden deep away from everyone, deep within that locker in Whitebeard's room.

"Just so we're clear Marco, you never could have stopped me." She said into the transponder, Marco's heart stammered as her resigned tone of voice sounded out of the transponder, he jumped to his feet, panic in his lungs, taste of copper and iron and sour grapes filled his mouths as he yelled into the device.

"Don't do it, yoi! Messing with time is—"

"Bad? Cursed? I don't care, Marco, I want my family back, I want Ace back." She said and reached ber hand towards the snail, "For what it's worth, thank you for being the brother I never had."

"Saram—!"

The call cut off as Marco stared in silence at the transponder snail, he slumped over his table as he stilled, gripping his hair with one hand while the other clenched around his table edge, was this it? As the First Commander, he was supposed to be the strong, able to manage people and himself. Why was he losing it all? Why? Why were all his loved ones slipping through his fingers? Was this the curse of being a phoenix? Immortality and eternal life gained, in exchanged of watching his loved ones mix into the sands of time?

"Where did we go wrong, yoi?" He said quietly, a sob choked in the back of his throat, so cruel, so sweet, so harsh, "Pops, Ace, Thatch, Izou - I don't know what to do."

And under the cold moonlight, the phoenix fell apart, immortality like the chains that clung to it's free self, freedom at the cost of being a slave to the very thing that made him soar the skies, was this redemption? Was this karmic debt?

Saram took a deep breath as she stepped into the circle, a smile on her lips as golden and blue glowed around her, encasing her in a cocoon, the last thing she saw was the picture on her wall, her family, her love, staring at her as her body was tugged apart by the powers of the incantation.

"Sorry, we only have one room." The receptionist apologized and Ace felt his ears heat up, one room, with Saram, alone, was just a spell for disaster. Ace glanced back at Saram who was looking around the lobby but he could tell that she was alert, the way her eyes kept darting around, their eyes met and she gave a questioning look, he shook his head and looked back at the receptionist.

"We'll take it."

He didn't acknowledge the look that the receptionist gave as he took the keys to their room, Saram grabbed her bag while Ace did the same, the two walked in the direction of their room. There was a comfortable silence as they walked, Saram was quiet and looking around as they travelled down the hallways.

"If you feel that sharing a room with me is troubling, I can get another room in another inn."

It was the first thing Saram said when they walked into the room, Ace turned to her in surprise, eyes slightly wide before shaking his head, "No, really. It's fine."

He pretended to ignore his racing heart, his burning ears and the heat across his back. Saram pretended that she didn't notice his fingers twitching, the muscle pulsing on his neck, the slow blinks he unknowingly did to calm himself down - how would she explain that she knew his habits from another life? And so they both pretended, unknown to Ace, that they didn't know about his feelings.

Saram freshened up before Ace, dressed in comfortable clothes and hair slightly dripping wet on the tips, a quiet yawn leaving her as Ace looked up from untying his boots by the couch. A quiet, untampered eye contact occured as the two stared at each other.

"I left warm water for you."

"Thanks."

"Remember to put your boots by the door and not on the carpet."

"Got it."

"Ace."

"Yeah?"

"Will you stop staring at me and go take a shower already?"

She had a small unnoticeable smile as Ace scampered to the bathroom, his tanned skin slightly flush, Saram shook her head and used the towel to soak her hair dry. Saram walked around the room barefoot, the feeling of the soft carpet under her feet felt nice, and soothing even, Marco had told them to get a hotel closest to the infiltration area for better surveillance.

Ironically, only expensive and luxurious hotels were near the area and so the duo had to opt for a room quite above their expectations. She practically dragged Ace to this place after talking to Marco over the transponder because he was constantly walking towards the inns that were way, way far off.

She eyed the two pairs of shoes by the couch, one was her's and the other Ace's, call it being bossy but ahe didn't want the pretty carpets of their room to look dirty, and Ace's shoes were REALLY dirty. Saram sat on the windowsill, the binoculars in her hand as she used them to watch the casino they were suppsed to infiltrate.

Usually, Izou would carry out these infiltration missions but he was away with his division on another mission and the other divisions were slumped with work, that left her and Ace, who had just returned from his most recent mission, to be the ones to carry this out because there was no way she was letting the nurses on something as dangerous as this regardless of how tough they were.

Her eyes tracked the target who was mingling with the rich people of the casino, the hand gestures, the way they held themselves, the behaviorisms, the outfits - Saram noted it all, eyes narrowing as she watched through the binoculars.

"Tracking them already?" Ace's voice came from behind, she nodded, eyes still looking through the binoculars, not paying attention as Ace came to stand directly behind her, his eyes curious to look outside. Saram turned her head and immediately froze, Ace glanced and stilled.

There was a minimum distance behind their faces, Ace's body was still slightly damp from his shower, black hair tips dripping water onto her skin, heat emanating from his skin and she remembers that Ace ran hot, literally. Saram opened her mouth to speak but the words in her head never made it to her tongue as she stared at him. Her eyes watched the droplet of water slide down his neck and then averted her eyes back to his face, only for heat to blossom in her chest as she saw his gaze trained on her, steady and unadulterated.

Ace licked his lips as he stared at her, his hands clenching and unclenching and clenching by his sides constantly as she gazed back at him. He knew this was risky, feelings like his were dangerous, this was dangerous. Saram was someone who was in danger from him, he was afraid that he would consume her, her very essence was something he craved and at this moment, Portgas D. Ace wanted nothing more than to let himself consume her.

"You know, right?"

Saram did not reply to him but the way she averted her eyes was enough of an answer. Ace felt his chest clench, she knew that he was enamored with her, maybe even in love and yet she refused to speak of it, speak of him, speak of the way he, too, knew that she would always stay on deck on fixed times during his chores, be near the training yards during his spar sessions doing tasks, how she always administered medicine to Whitebeard whenever he was near the Yonko.

"You will drown, Ace, I am no good for you."

He smiled, that boyish smile she knew from another lifetime, that smile which she could not hold onto. At this moment, she saw something almost feral strange.

"Who says I am afraid of drowning?"

"You should be."

"Are you?"

Saram blinked, fingers slowly sliding up his nape, twisting into his dark locks, pulling him closer, lips ghosting against his, "I should be."

"Saram, I lo-"

And she placed her palm over his mouth, stopping him from speaking, shaking her head, "Don't, not here, not now."

His eyes bore into her own as she spoke, something almost raw and primal flashed in his eyes, Saram licked her lips as she continued, "Reach your 21st birthday and then," she paused, "I will confess to you. Not before that."

A moment of silence before his eyes lidded slightly, hot hand coming to hold her wrist, her breathe hitched as he kissed her wrist, his eyes on her, damp wavy hair shadowing his eyes.

"21st birthday, huh?"

Saram felt her throat dry up as he continued speaking.

"Then prepare yourself, Saram." He said lowly, all mirth and playfulness gone from his tone, his eyes dark and gleaming, "On my 21st birthday, I will devour you."

She gasped quietly as he bit her wrist, heart stammering, only one thought in her head.

Fuck, I am in trouble.

taglist: @captainportgasdace @hannahbarberra162

[yanderes-galore]

Oooh, I wonder what would yandere White Beard as a platonic yandere be like 👀 can I please request that as a concept?

I love this idea so much due to his goals in the series 🥺

Yandere! Platonic! Whitebeard Concept

Pairing: Platonic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Overprotective behavior, Violence, Blood, Whitebeard becomes your dad, Slight manipulation, You're an orphan, Dubious companionship.

Let me just say this... him as a platonic yandere makes SO MUCH sense.

Why? Whitebeard, or Edward Newgate as his actual name, has never expressed any desire to find the One Piece for its treasure (From what I remember).

He's only ever wanted one thing.

Family.

Family is what he considers to be his greatest treasure.

He grew up as an orphan with nowhere to go, forced to watch fellow crew members solve things with violence.

His experiences eventually made him found the Whitebeard Pirates.

Said crew was made with unity and love in mind.

He then became one of the strongest men in the world, and Emperor of The Sea.

His Devil Fruit allows him to create earthquakes, he's a staggering height...

Many people are scared of him.

But to his crew, even when betrayed...

He loves them more than anything else.

So him being a platonic yandere? I can see that.

Based on what we saw during Marineford and the Paramount War, Whitebeard was willing to sacrifice himself for his family.

He takes in orphans and gives them guidance.

He's so intimidating but he's such a dad.

He's compassionate but knows he is simply a man like everyone else, especially as he gets older.

Whitebeard probably met you like he met most of his crew.

You were an orphan with nowhere to go, a prime candidate for someone he wants on his crew.

If you have nowhere to go, he'll happily take you in.

He'd be such a good dad, too.

You'd have a home on the Moby Dick and he definitely protects his family.

I know this is primarily supposed to be about Whitebeard... but...

Platonic/Romantic! Marco and Platonic/Romantic! Ace would work well with Platonic! Whitebeard.

You'd get two overprotective brothers to pair with your new overprotective father.

That, or, you're brought to Whitebeard due to being involved romantically with either Ace or Marco.

Congrats, you get to be an 'In Law' in that case.

In that case you're even more connected to his family since one of his 'sons' loves you.

Whitebeard would love and protect you unconditionally as one of his kids.

He loves his family, including you.

Even in his old age he'd be your mentor, not just a Captain, but a father.

I don't even think he likes being called Captain at times since he views his crew as family.

You could probably call him 'Captain' once and Whitebeard would laugh and correct you.

He's not 'Captain' to you... He's your father.

He really wants you to feel at home and get along with his crew.

Trust me, if there was conflict, he'd know.

No one wants to anger Whitebeard.

He's a huge man and doesn't want violence on his crew.

He wants to be there for you, his newest child, and give whatever advice he can.

Would Whitebeard kill for you? I don't doubt it.

He'd kill to protect his crew and family.

If you were romantically involved with a member of his family, he treats you like you're part of the family.

If you're already part of the family and someone outside of it loves you, he'd test them before accepting them.

You deserve only the best.

He needs to make sure said person is worthy of joining his family.

Once he thinks they can, he'll allow them to pursue you.

Would he be affectionate? Maybe in his own way.

I feel like he wouldn't give out hugs often... unless you asked.

He'd find that amusing but accept it.

He'd be incredibly loyal and caring to his obsession.

If you were having some trouble, then he'd talk you through it.

If you wanted to leave the family, he'd discourage it.

You can only leave if you come back to visit... he'll miss his kid.

He wouldn't kidnap I don't think.

The closest thing to that would be if you were forced into his family by marriage.

My personal pick would be Ace... but up to you.

Good luck leaving a yandere with Whitebeard backing them.

The good thing is Whitebeard would never hurt you.

He wants you to be happy and loved.

He'll be happy to provide such a thing if you let him...

Won't you be part of his family?

[stillxnunpxidintern]

Whitebeard: Ace, you'll be working with Marco and Reader. Ace: Alright! My fantasy threesome! Whitebeard Crew: *blank stares* Ace: ...Of people on a team.

(Some crack in the form of incorrect quotes. Ace's brain to mouth filter stopped working momentarily)