#except i'm only a neuron 'cause i fire and i forget kjsdnfksjd

[touchmycoat]

Can I ask for the Whitebeards knowing Marco and Ace are in a relationship and thinking Sabo is a homewrecker because MAS are a bunch of trolls?

ASKDJFKSDJFKSD OKAY I’M REALLY–

I’ll try to finish this now that I remember it again thanks to you, but I def started writing a returning-to-the-Moby fic, set immediately post-Second Chances:

Rated T for mild descriptions of violence

The Grand Line sure was a funny sort of place. Sometimes, Thatch thought, the “Grand” in “Grand Line” stood for “Grand Irony,” or “Grand Tragedy,” or “Grand Piece of Shit.”

Take, for instance, the matter of his brother. No not that one, the other one. No, the other one. No, the other—

Take, for instance, the matter of Marco. “Grand Sap of a Man.” Thatch loved and respected Marco with all his heart, but as with most crewmates (especially ones who have been on the same ship for well over a goddamn decade), Thatch has also come to learn of Marco’s character flaws. Has gotten into screaming fights with Marco about his character flaws. You’re too much of a softie, Thatch might say in exasperation on a good day. Get off your self-sacrificing high horse already, he might snap on a bad one.

See, Marco’s whole martyrdom schtick would be wholly contrived if it weren’t for his stupid fruit. Don’t get him wrong, Thatch was, 99.9% of the time, glad about Marco the Phoenix being Second in Command on their ship. But that 0.1%, when Marco got into those frenzies of determination to give and give and give until he had nothing left, with very little consideration to everything and everyone else, those were what made Thatch angry.

(One of those screaming matches in question served a great example. Division One doctors and nurses had returned from the war-ravaged city they’ve landed at with haunted eyes and shaking hands. It hadn’t been the fighting and the violence, really. It had been their Commander’s ceaseless and insensitive demands for the medical crew to keep draining blood, removing organs, and cutting skin grafts from his person. No anesthetic, and he never even flinched under the scalpel.

That makes it worse, why can’t you understand that, Thatch remembered growling into Marco’s face. He cared for all his adopted siblings, but there was another doctor in particular that he had grown quite close to. She had been one of those stumbling into Thatch’s kitchen, desperate for a cup of coffee to settle her nerves.

Why can’t you understand the rules are different for me yoi, Marco snapped back. There was blood staining his shirt, probably his own. This is what I’m capable of thanks to this fruit, how can I do any less?

So for every patient you heal, you traumatize a crewmate?

Marco had been so offended that they didn’t speak for a week, and it took Pop’s intervention—a rare thing, considering Pop’s philosophy of well-they’ll-get-along-sooner-or-later-and-murder-attempts-are-fine—to finally mend the rift between them.)

Thatch hardly liked getting annoyed or angry with Marco, but after the whole Teach debacle, he felt like it might become necessary again. Not even because of the thing with Teach himself, but because of what came after. Or rather, who came after. A certain young man, with blond hair and nice clothes, Ace’s matching set.

Thatch couldn’t believe, of all the things time-traveling could’ve yielded for Marco, bringing back Ace’s childhood sweetheart and rekindling their love was on the goddamn checklist.

“Like, this is beyond stupid, even for you,” Thatch immediately began to complain, the moment he stepped through the threshold of Marco’s room. “Why would you—Huh? I’ve been trying to tell you this for ages, but sacrifice as a look on you only goes so far.”

Setting down the book he was reading, Marco carefully clasped his hands together and looked up at Thatch. His words were polite—

“You have mentioned that before, yes.”

—but his expression clearly read, oh god, this again?

“I’m not even talking about the giving up your powers thing, or the not telling any of us your secret thing, or the trying to kill yourself in Marine custody thing.” Fine, so maybe Thatch was still a little bit mad about the whole thing with Teach. He did almost die from it; he deserved to be angry about Marco’s executive decision to exclude him from any of the important fighting. “I’m talking about the Sabo thing.”

Frown lines appeared between Marco’s brows.

“The Sabo thing?”

“Just—why?”

Marco, suddenly, looked hunted, his shoulders bunching up in defensiveness.

“Listen yoi, if you’re trying to tell me it’s a bad idea, I know, alright? But I just—I guess I only want—”

“—only want Ace to be happy, blah blah blah, I know,” Thatch interrupted, waving his arms about in annoyance. “But you didn’t have to, you get that? You’re perfectly capable of making Ace happy yourself, but no, instead you went and resurrected his dead boyfriend to let them be happy. This is a new low for you, Marco. Dammit you piss me off sometimes.”

“I—”

So busy was Thatch with dispelling the frustration clouding his mind, that he missed the expression of dawning realization, then the devious grin that flashed across Marco’s face, before Marco schooled his features back into something tragic once more.

“You’re right yoi,” Marco said mournfully. “But they really do deserve to be happy, you know? I had to give them the relationship they asked for.”

“But Ace wanted you.” Yes, now that Sabo and Ace were together, Sabo was technically part of the family, and Thatch really had nothing against the kid. But Thatch could play favorites if he wanted, fuck that. “You realize that, right? Like, full on pining from dusk ‘til dawn, folding your clothes particularly nice on laundry duty, smiling when he got to your dirty dishes on dishwashing duty, all that disgusting stuff.”

“Oh?” Voice going appropriately strained, Marco bit his lip the way he sometimes did when he was trying to keep a straight face (though Thatch didn’t think that was it—after all, why would he be laughing at this surely heartbreaking information?). “I didn’t realize. Tell me more.”