#reader x thatch

[alexa-yukiyu]

Hello I hope you've been sleeping and eating well, may I request this? Whitebeard Pirates x Inosuke reader like he was the smallest and youngest among them, he gets into a lot of trouble

Inosuke was raised by boars his life and he has little to no human contact

Inosuke is influenced more and more by the Whitebeard pirates ways ways and becomes more accustomed to affection and generosity, learning to also acknowledge the strength of people besides himself and develop feelings of friendship towards the Whitebeard pirates , although he does still retain his proud nature and constant want for praise. He also begins to think more strategically when engaging in combat, using smarter tactics he has picked up from more experienced Demon Slayers and not just rushing into fights head-on without thinking, he goes mad when anyone tries to hurt his family, though despite being a troublemaker he can be shy and quiet whenever it comes to new things like Inosuke would hold Marco sleeve and watch in awe as a parade was happening

So how would the Whitebeard pirates react seeing their youngest and smallest crewmate being quiet for the first time like someone made a comment like "I wonder why would they allow a troublemaker boar into their crew?" And Inosuke started wondering that too and started being quiet as the Whitebeard pirates were behind him glaring at the bastard who made their youngest upset

Doubtful affections ( Whitebeard pirates x m!reader)

I don’t know how to feel about this one yall I really liked it at the beginning but then it was eh maybe I tried to hard using different characters I think that lowkey ruined it but nevertheless here we are I am proud that I finished dit today though! :)

Personification of Fossa was heavily inspired by @hannahbarberra162 ‘s own take on the character :)

Reader here has been replaced by Dokucha which stands for Reader in japanese

Dividers by @/saradika and @/fireflygraphics

“Why does it have to be boars anyway? We haven’t had sparrows in a while, and they are here by the plenty,” Ace whined as he followed after his brother.

“Cos’ the sparrows are here to control the caterpillar population, the villagers recently managed to get it under control and save their crops; boars are killin’ off their livestock,” Thatch huffed out, venturing further into the forest and away from the grasslands the village had made a home in

“We can get some good meat, and they will trade us materials if we help hunt them down; it’s a win-win for both sides.”

Ace let out a hum in response, looking further into the forest and placing an arm out to halt Thatch, gesturing for him to be quiet and lower himself on the ground.

Thatch is quick to understand the reasoning behind his actions as not far from there was a large sounder grazing on the wild vegetation. Letting out a smile as he unsheathed his knife and edged closer to them

“We goin’ to eat good tonight,” he grinned, stalking closer to the boars, knife raised and ready to strike; the opportunity ended as elated for the hunt he had failed to notice the foliage beneath his feet, cringing at the loud crinkling sound that quickly alerted the sounder.

“Ha...Howdy”

“Good going, Thatch,” Ace sarcastically called after they had managed to fend off the angry mothers that had charged at them the minute they realized someone had gotten too close to them and their piglets.

“Quit yer Hollerin; it ain’t matter how it got done. What matters is we got the meat,” he called, rolling his eyes and taking a glance at a nearby bush for a moment, his attention going back to the gathering of their hunt.

“Make yer’self useful and take care of the last one, think might be anotha piglet.”

“Aye, Aye, Captain,”” he called dismissively, igniting one of his hands as he approached the bush.

“Come here, piggy, piggy, come....here? Thatch you might want to take a look at this:”

“What is it? Oh.” The two men gawked at the sight in front of them; perhaps if they were not as worried at the fact that in front of them sat a toddler alone in the middle of the woods, they would have found it amusing at the mannerisms it showed as it let out what they guessed were small growls and charges towards them, a mask just as small as he was decorating his head.

Ace grinned gingerly. He picked up the aggressive child and boosted him up in the air for a few seconds. A laugh escaped him as the boy started giggling, his small hands trying to reach the man.

“Ya ain’t a boar, ain’tcha? What are ya doin’ all alone here?”” Thatch questioned, looking up at the giggling boy

“You don’t think he was being raised by one of the boars, do you?” Ace mulled lowering the toddler onto his hip, occasionally bouncing him

“Don’ see any other way he coulda survive alone out here” he mumbled, slipping off the boy’s mask to take a peak at his features.

“Well, it doesn’t matter cause he’s coming with us”” Ace laughed, but it was cut short as the child sank his teeth into his torso, gaining a hiss from the man.

“He’s gonna give Marco a run for his money.”” Thatch grinned, finding humor in his brother’s glowering

Thatch was definitely not wrong when he spoke those words as Marco stood in front of the child watching at his latest achievement; he had made a mistake in giving his back to a child who had been raised in the wild, and what did this cost him? A clinical bed, as the current one was now trashed, with small claw and bite marks littering it, springs and stuffing exposed to the frigid air of the room

Marco let out a sigh at the sight

“Alright, let’s set things straight; you do not destroy things,” Marco called, stopping the child from digging his teeth into the bed once again. He placed him on his lap, facing him, and held him as he struggled to get away from him and attack him.

“We can do this all day,”” he stated, looking down at the boy, who eventually stopped trying to headbutt his way out and began pointing to the bed.

“Don’t destroy my clinic,” he called sternly. He complied with his silent request and placed the child on the bed, watching him for a while to see if he would repeat her actions. He nodded when he didn’t and simply sat there staring at him. He then began assessing the child, taking all measurements, and, much to his displeasure, vaccinating him.

“There we go, you did great. Now I think it’s time you meet the rest of your brothers. Pops is waiting too.” he called, lowering the boy to the ground, his eyes softening as he gingerly took hold of his sleeve as they left the clinic, slowly walking closer to the deck, the rowdiness of the crowd getting louder and louder the closer they got

“You have improved greatly, Dokucha,” Vista applauded as he approached the small boy after he had successfully beaten his opponents under his brother’s watch.

A now older Dokucha spun around to meet his brother grinning at him

“You think so, Vista-nii?!” He called excitedly as he pulled up his mask and sheathed his wakizashi. Even though six years had already gone by since the day he had been found in that forest among boars, the young boy had kept his signature mask, having to replace it every year to fit his growing body.

“Your agility with the wakizashi has increased. Your movements are much smoother than last time, and your stance has improved as well. You no longer stumble on your feet when you must spin to meet opponents behind you,” he complimented, mirroring the child’s wide smile.

“Of course, I did a good job! I am the best after all!” he boasted as he put his hands on his hips in a proud manner.

“Remember to not underestimate your opponent regardless of their skill, or it will be your downfall on the battlefield,” He said as he placed a hand on the child’s head.

“I won’t, Vista-nii, don’t worry!”

“Now then, I must finish some training with my unit before we depart. Are you able to stock up on some of our supplies? We need new whetstones and truingstones"

“Leave it to me, Vista-nii!”

“Atta boy! I will see you shortly!” He called as he walked away

“Alright! I Saw a blacksmith right around the corner!” Dokucha noted as he made his way into the local village

“Here it is,” he remarked as he made his way inside the store, easily finding the items he was searching for and making his payment. Waving off the store owner as he made his exit, stopping as he heard the shop owner begin to talk, he turned around to see what the owner needed, only to once again be stopped as another voice spoke up.

“Who was that dear?”

“It was one of the Whitebeard pirates; he came to refill some of their smithing supplies.

He knew he was quick to jump into action; he had greatly improved this in the last years as he was less prone to suddenly lash out and act out on impulse. Under his brother’s tutelage, he now analyzed the situation and thought of a solution before his body moved. Much to Marco’s surprise and pleasure, the small boy had shown a great ability to strategize, coming up with strategies and views that never failed to impress him, much to his pleasure.

“Oh, was it one of the commanders? I heard Vista was around.”

“No, it was the boy,”

“That small child that tags along with them? I heard he was up to no good.”

Nevertheless, since he was still a child, it was only normal that many mannerisms he gained during his first two years of life still prevailed, which his brothers and father welcomed as they had grown to be a part of him. This, however, was not the case with people outside his circle; he was not deaf to the people’s words, the whispers of judgment following everywhere he went. He usually never let this get to him as he knew better than to care for stranger's words, but today was not one of those times.

“I wonder why they even keep such a boy.”

“I know, right? If anything, he would be a liability. That crew comprises such strong people, and then there’s him.”

“Maybe they felt bad for the boy, heard he was raised by boars. Can you believe that?” he said with a small laugh.

“Boars?! HA! I'm sure they keep him for entertainment. Their days at sea are very long after all.”

“Oh! That must be it I'm sure they...

Dokucha turned around, not waiting to hear the rest of the conversation, as he made his way back to the ship

“Have any of you seen Dokucha?” Namur questioned as he entered the mess hall, looking around for said boy

“He asked me for swimming lessons, and then the little rascal didn’t show up,” he grumbled, making his way to the table where the rest of the commanders sat at

“I asked him to get some materials from me, but I haven’t seen him since then,” Vista piped up

“I saw him go to his room earlier. Has he not left since then? It’s been hours since then,” Jozu noted, sharing a few worried glances with his brothers

“I will go check in on him,” Izou stated as he made his out of the mess hall

“Dokucha, are you there?” Izou called as he knocked on the door to his room, frowning as he received no response

‘He’s a light sleeper, so there’s no way he didn’t hear my knocking,’ he thought as he took a bobby pin out of his hair and easily unlocked the door, his frown deepening as his eyes fell on the lump on the bed.

“Dokucha?” He called sitting down on the bed

“The door was closed for a reason, Izou-nii,” the child grumbled, his voice muffled by the bed sheets. Despite this, the roughness and scratchiness of the voice was not lost to Izou as he swiftly removed the covers from the boy and pulled him closer to him.

“I have told you that it is unbecoming to not look as someone when you speak,” he called, tightening his hold as Dokucha tried pushing him away.

“Just leave Izou-nii,” he growled.

“I will not leave until you tell me what has had you acting this way.”

“Why do you even care? I’m just a form of entertainment for you guys, so you don’t have to pretend anymore, so...just leave me alone!” he cried.

Shocked by his words, Izou is quick to release him, watching as he broke down in front of him.

“Who told you this?”

“So it’s true!” he wailed, his cries growing louder as he turned away until a delicate hand made his place under his chin and softly turned it back.

“Dokucha. I do not know where you have heard of this, but know that it could not be farther from the truth,” he softly spoke as he lifted his face.

“We care for you deeply; we were all so happy the day Ace and Thatch brought you aboard. Trust me, living in a ship surrounded by such barbarians can become tiring after a while.” He started gaining a small giggle from the child at his words

“But then there was you; you were the most delicate yet wildest thing I had seen,” he voiced with a small smile.

“It was quite a sight, having a toddler run around amock and causing experienced warriors to lose their minds over such a small thing,” he recalled with a smile.

“It’s concerning how quickly you became the most precious treasure that any of us have found. And that is why I would like to know how you ever thought you were simply a means for entertainment,” he finished, looking down at Dokucha.

The child, comforted by the words, threw himself into Izou's arms, sobs racking his small body.

“Was it because of something we said or did? Despite not being as uncivilized as some of them, I understand some of us can be a lot,” he spoke as he hugged the boy closer to him, rubbing his back to soothe his cries.

“No, it wasn’t you guys.”

“Then?”

Encouraged by his words, Dokusha told him of what he had heard in the shop earlier. After a while, his brother smiled at him and encouraged him to relax for a while as he and the others 'handled it.’

“Say Fossa-nii, why did everyone leave?” Dokucha wondered as he looked up at the stars that filled the sky

“They had something that needed ta be handled,” he huffed out as he lay beside the boy.

“What is it?”

“What with the damn questions?! Just shut up n’ go to sleep,” the man growled, only getting a small snicker in response.

“I love you, Fossa-nii!” he exclaimed, throwing himself towards said man, hugging him tightly.

“Tch, yer lucky m' in a good mood,” he grunted out.

"Hey, hey, did you sneak any out today?" the child whispered, looking up at him

"Ya better not tell that idiot about this," he grumbled as he pulled out a small pastry from his pocket, handing it to the boy.

"I won't! Cause then I won't get any treats after hours!" he exclaimed, munching on the pastry and ignoring the snickers escaping his brother.

Ahhhh im tired yall but I finally finished it. What are we thinking?

Taglist:

@Imaginarydreams

@amethystviolin

@h0n3y-l3m0n05

@hannahbarberra162

[hannahbarberra162]

A Negative Outcome, Part 4

Infinite thank you to @gouraminnow who helped me so very very much with this chapter.

The other chapters | on Ao3

TW: angst and not much comfort here but there will be a lot in the next chapter.

Thatch POV

It had been a long time since Marco had been in trouble with Pops. Thatch remembered a time when he first joined the Whitebeard Pirates where Marco had killed someone they wanted for information and Pops had been mad about it. But that was decades ago and Thatch hadn’t seen a repeat performance since. Marco was always doing the right thing, making correct judgements, and trying his best to guide the crew under the supervision of Pops. Which is why nearly half the crew was on deck pretending to be working while listening in, himself included. You were resting in his room, exhausted after the long day and donating so much blood. Thatch had heard Marco’s statements that you shouldn’t be so tired but Thatch had been around long enough to know there was more to a person than just their body. 

“My son, it was the wrong choice,” Pops chided Marco lightly. Pops didn’t need to use a harsh tone or to yell, the effect on Marco was devastating. He looked like he was wilting under Pops’ softly spoken words even as he looked directly at their Captain. Thatch had been in Marco’s position before and it was undeniably worse when Pops was disappointed rather than angry . 

“She was harmed under our care, she needed time to recuperate,” Pops continued.

“But chemotherapy doesn’t work like that, I can’t just suddenly -” Marco tried to interrupt and throw his weight as the doctor on the crew. Whitebeard stopped him with a glance. 

“I’ve lived a long time, Marco. One day would not have mattered,” was all Whitebeard had to say in order for Marco to hang his head. The quiet across the deck was louder than any argument could ever be. Holding himself high once more, Marco looked his Captain in the eye.

“But I… - of course. I’ll…make amends,” Marco replied. Thatch wondered how he would do so given the tension that radiated from you any time Marco came near. Thatch had to spend the majority of his time in the infirmary that afternoon calming and soothing you after Marco had chased you down in the kitchens. Thatch had heard Marco apologize many times but he wasn’t sure he’d ever heard it after Marco had fucked up. Maybe it would be good for the doctor to be humbled slightly, maybe you’d get better treatment from Marco or at least be allowed to live a little more. Thatch finished clearing Pop’s dishes and left to bring them back to the galley. He wanted to be in the room when Marco sought you out to make sure the interaction went as smoothly as possible.

Marco POV

Marco shifted into his Phoenix form as he took his leave from Pops and launched himself into the air, soaring high above the ship. He wanted a few moments of privacy to gather himself before he went to go find you. He needed to center and control his emotions before he talked to you lest he make the relationship between you worse. Which…he wasn’t sure was possible right now. When you told him how you fucking hated him and your facial expression held more emotion during that declaration than he’d seen in weeks. 

Marco had tried to empathize with you as best he could but he never got very far. His devotion to Whitebeard was so strong, he’d do anything to make his Captain’s health improve. He already had by betraying his oath to do no harm and keeping you aboard the ship. Marco would gladly have traded six hours of his day for Whitebeard, it wasn’t like you were working hard. All you had to do was sit in a chair with your arm on an arm rest and relax. And yes, he knew that you missed your family and friends but it wasn’t like he had murdered you. You’d eventually make your way back to them - Marco knew that even with his assistance Whitebeard was mortal and would eventually pass away. It was a temporary adventure in your life, and frankly, most people would go gaga for the opportunity to sail with Whitebeard. You could be having the time of your life but you chose to spend it moping about the ship. 

What really ruffled Marco’s feathers was everyone was acting like he was the villain, like Marco was the one who was responsible for your torment and despair. Yes, it had been his plan, but everyone commented on how well Pops has been doing, how healthy he looked, how lively Pops was lately. It didn’t go unnoticed by the crew how vigorously Pops crushed Teach’s lifeless body once the traitor had finally been defeated. Everyone was pleased with the outcome but they didn’t want to get their own hands dirty by taking care of you.  It was easy to accuse Marco of being unsympathetic and cold but no one was helping you escape, were they? Everyone wanted you to remain and to use your blood but they didn’t want to have to feel bad about it. Marco shook his head trying to clear the negative thoughts. He needed to figure out some way to apologize for making you give blood without causing further deterioration to your relationship. He lazily tightened the circles he was flying in and flew down to land on the deck. He went below deck after shifting back into his human form, finally ready to speak to you. He had to remain sensitive, this was probably the first time you’d had a near death experience. Even before he ate his Devil Fruit, being a pirate came with a certain level of risk. Marco was used to the danger of the high seas but that would be foreign to you as a civilian. Keeping that in mind, Marco headed towards Thatch’s cabin where he assumed you were. You’d hardly left the Commander’s side since Teach had tried to murder you, likely in an attempt to make yourself feel more secure. Listening from outside the cabin, he heard Thatch speaking to you in his deep voice and you responding occasionally to his questions. 

Your POV

There was no other way to say it - you were hiding in Thatch’s room after your time in the infirmary. You felt completely depleted in mind, body, and spirit as you looked through the assorted books Thatch had in his room. Turned out he liked poetry and once upon a time you had too. But since you’d been brought on the ship your interest had dwindled. You ran your finger down the spine of a familiar book, a popular volume of romantic poems. At some point you thought all you ever wanted out of life was someone to care for you and love you like the people in the poems but it turned out you craved more important things -  like freedom and autonomy. Even so, you plucked the slim book off the shelf and turned it over in your hands, opening it to the bookmarked spot Thatch had left. 

A knock at the door had you whimpering in distress. You were never so jumpy before coming on the ship but now you startled at the tiniest noise. The door opened to reveal a concerned looking Thatch on the other side. Your cheeks heated as the chef came closer to check on you again. Thatch had been practically babysitting you since the events of the previous day and you felt awful for taking up so much of his precious time. You didn’t want to be a burden on the one person who seemed to care how you were feeling and maybe gave a shit about you.

“How ya doin’ Baby Pie?” Thatch asked, approaching you slowly. You tried to put on a cheery front so he didn’t come home to a dour loser every time he wanted to rest in his room.

“I’m good. I’m just, um, relaxing. I’m gonna go though, sorry. You can have your room back, I’m sure you want some alone time,” you said apologetically, closing the book and moving to replace it on the shelf near the couch before you left.

“I don’t want alone time, I came to see you. And you’re welcome to stay here as long as you’d like. You don’t have to go back to that other room,” Thatch said quietly. You hadn’t actually thought about where you’d go if Thatch wanted his room back. The thought of going back to the room where you nearly died wasn’t in the realm of possibility for you. Maybe you could find a room in the infirmary that was far from the phlebotomy room? But Marco wouldn’t go for that, you didn’t even have to ask. Beds were scarce and needed to injured crew, not frightened civilians.

“What’re you thinkin’ about Porkchop?” Thatch asked, plopping down on the small couch in his cabin. He held out his arms and spread his legs, a silent call for you to come sit on his lap. It felt childish to constantly seek out touch but you feet were propelling themselves towards the chef anyway. As you neared he scooped you up and placed you in his lap, wrapping his warm arms around you. You leaned into him, even the smell of oil imbued his chef’s coat not ruining your moment. 

“Porkchop?” you asked lightly, nuzzling into him. You felt  there was something building between the two of you but you didn’t want to address it right now. You were a little vulnerable and wanted some leeway in case your growing feelings weren’t reciprocated. You’d live in delusion land for just a bit longer before you brought yourself back to reality and talked to Thatch about your crush. 

“Mm. Guess that wasn’t one of my better ones, eh? You can go back to being Sugar,” Thatch teased, squishing you between his muscled arms. He gently took the book from your hands, turning it over so the cover was showing. “You like poetry?” he asked softly, the fingers of his other hand drawing circles on your thigh.

“Yeah, guess so,” you answered, eyes already closing. You hadn’t been able to truly rest without Thatch around, feeling too unsafe and anxious to fall asleep. Eventually you would have to get over it and be an adult again but the chef was too comforting for your own good. A knock at the door had you stiffening up immediately. Thatch’s arms tightened around you as he beckoned to whoever was behind the door. You bristled as you saw Marco pushing in the door, his face sour like he’d eaten a crate of lemons. If Thatch wasn’t there you would have tried to take your chances by running again but you knew there was no way that you’d be able to escape the two of them together. But maybe Marco wasn’t there to talk to you, maybe he needed more from you, more time in the phlebotomy room, more blood coming out of your arm -

“I did six hours! I promise! I can’t - please -” you went straight to begging, trying to push Thatch’s arms off of you.

“No no. It’s not that yoi. You did fine today. I came to apologize to you,” Marco stated plainly. You didn’t respond, unsure what Marco was playing at. He’d never apologized to you before, why was he starting now? Sure he made you give blood the day after you were almost murdered but that was practically par for the course. You knew he didn’t feel bad about kidnapping you or using you but you were curious what he would say.

“I’m going to give the two of you privacy but I won’t be far,” Thatch said, taking you off his lap and placing you on the small couch. You made a small sound of protest and looked up at him with doleful eyes. You didn’t want to be left alone with Marco, especially not after you told him off not too long prior. Marco didn’t seem to take anything you said too personally but you also hadn’t told him to fuck off before either. After Thatch left the room it became awkward and quiet as you waited for Marco to continue his thought. Marco came inside and shut the door, leaving just the sound of the waves against the sides of the ship.

“I came to apologize for making you donate -”

“Give,” you corrected Marco. You’d never been so bold before but maybe almost dying would do that to a person.

“Pardon?” Marco asked, now crossing his arms and leaning against the wall.

“I don’t donate my blood. You take it,” you replied. You wished that your voice had held out for the whole sentence - you squeaked out the end. Marco bristled and you scooted backwards, putting more distance between the two of you. 

“Yes, I suppose that's true yoi,” Marco conceded as he set his jaw. You regretted saying anything - if Marco was in the mood to play nice you shouldn't have spoiled it. Marco closed his eyes briefly and took a deep breath before he continued, crossing his arms and drumming his fingers along his bicep, as if this entire conversation was irritating him. 

“As I was saying, I am sorry for taking your blood today. I should have listened to you and let you rest. As a doctor, I know the importance of mental health as it affects the body and it was an oversight in my error to not let you recover yoi. You can have tomorrow off even though it does affect Whitebeard’s chemotherapy schedule,” Marco finished waving his hand in your direction. He paused as if he was waiting for something. 

“Thank you,” you gritted out through your teeth. Marco didn’t seem to notice your tone but did give you a curt nod as if he was expecting your thanks, like he was granting you a huge favor for not forcibly taking your blood for one single fucking day. You wanted to roll your eyes and kick him out but it wasn’t your room in the first place. 

“I hope you understand how much this affects everyone else yoi,” Marco said coldly. You wanted to retort back that being nearly murdered affected you badly when the door creaked open again.

“Marco, your apology sucks,” Thatch said, folding his arms across his chest. Marco bristled but didn’t say anything further. “No man, come on. Say something real,” Thatch prodded Marco as he blocked the door with his wide frame and tacitly prevented Marco from leaving. Marco looked at his brother, shifting his weight onto one foot. He exhaled and walked over, sitting down near you on the couch. You’d been near Marco many many times but never in a casual setting like this. You almost gave him your arm out of reflex but were able to stifle the impulse at the last moment. Marco considered you with his blue eyes, like he was really seeing you as a person for the first time. He put his hands on his knees and began speaking to you softly.

“I am sorry you were almost killed. I truly am. That shouldn’t have happened and you’re not used to anything remotely like that. I’m not going to say I understand because I don’t and I can’t imagine how terrified you must have been yoi. I know you didn’t choose to be here with us and that you’d rather be home. I know. So for what it’s worth, I am sorry that you almost died. It wasn’t your fault and I’m not sure how much my promise to keep you safe is worth anymore yoi.” Marco gazed at you intensely while he spoke. You didn’t know where to look so you kept your eyes trained on your lap. Marco continued in the same calm tone.

“That being said, no, I’m not sorry for what I did today. You’re not the most important person on the ship. I’m not the most important person on the ship - it has always been and will always be Whitebeard. So yes, you get tomorrow off to recover but after that you have to go back yoi. None of us have a choice. I wish things were different, that I could drop you off on the next island, but life isn’t that simple. There’s a lot hanging in the balance, a lot more than you know. There are so many people, islands, territories that need Whitebeard’s protection. Even though you don’t want to be here, you play an important role in the fate of the world and I can’t let you go. Not yet. Can you understand that? Or at least try?”

You blinked rapidly at Marco’s statements, this the most raw emotion you’d ever heard from Marco since you’d met him. He always kept his true feelings guarded, crafting each sentence carefully to construct a meaning that didn’t necessarily match his own opinions. You preferred this real Marco to the palatable version he presented to you - at least you knew where you stood now. You looked at him as he waited for you to respond, his half lidded eyes still studying you.

“O-okay. I understand,” you said quietly, turning over Marco’s words in your mind. Thatch stood up and moved in the room giving Marco space to leave. Marco nodded at you and left, shutting the door quietly behind him. You exhaled a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding and looked over at a gently smiling Thatch.

“Seems like we have a day to plan,” he said, clapping his hands together. 

“Oh, uh, I didn’t think - you still have to work though, right? It’s just me, I wasn’t expecting -” Thatch crossed the room and sat back down right next to you on the couch. Reaching onto the bookshelf he pulled off a large thesaurus and opened it, revealing a bottle of rum hidden inside. Uncorking it, he took a swig and offered it to you as well. You must have looked surprised because Thatch furrowed his brow in mock confusion.

“What? It’s the least likely book for anyone to pick up. They’d have to first use the dictionary to find out what a thesaurus is. Anyway I got good crew under me, they can handle everything for a day. We’re celebrating starting tonight, take a sip,” he said, pushing the bottle into your hands. You hadn’t had alcohol since Marco had banned you after catching you drinking three beers. The hard liquor burned your throat as it went down, warming you all the way. 

“What’re we celebrating?” you asked, genuinely curious.

“You,” he said, laying a muscled arm across your back, his hand hooking around your upper arm. He pulled you into his own body, your head now leaning against his own shoulder. You snorted but didn’t object as you handed back the bottle to Thatch.

A few hours later you stumbled out of Thatch’s room. You really didn’t have all that much to drink but your tolerance was low from abstaining for so long. You wanted to catch a shower in the women’s bathroom before you went to bed - you hadn’t had a proper one since before the…event.  Walking down the now dark hallway towards the women’s quarters, you heard a conversation in progress. You thought you heard your name so you waited before turning the corner, curious to hear what the crew was saying about you.

“Tough break for that Bloodbag, eh?” you heard someone say around the corner. They called you -  Bloodbag…? Is that what everyone referred to you as when you weren’t around? You waited where you were, you wanted to eavesdrop on the rest of the conversation even though you were already on the verge of tears. 

“Yeah, I mean who knew Teach had it in him? Not the killing, killing her would be easy. I’m saying the betrayal part -”

“I know, to hurt your own crew -”

“Well, she’s not crew exactly, she’s more like -”

“Like Marco’s pet, or medicine for Pops or whatever. Still would suck to be murdered by Teach though. Nasty bastard had to be put down by Captain himself. But yeah, I get you, it’s like stabbing Pops yourself. Good thing she lived,” someone continued.

“Yeah, then we would have had to find another Bloodbag. It took so long to find that one in the first place, we’d have to start all over again…” the second man trailed off as their voices and footsteps receded while they walked down the hall towards the infirmary. 

Oh.

Your mind went blank as you processed what you heard, standing in the hallway unmoving for a few moments. Being tipsy didn’t help as you replayed their words in your mind over and over. You began to move robotically towards the bathrooms again, gripping your towel tightly in your hands. You didn’t really know how to feel at that moment - in some ways you were happy that the bandage had been ripped off your wound. You always suspected that the crew didn’t care about you and this had confirmed it. At least these two were being honest as opposed to Marco and Thatch and Whitebeard or anyone else who was kind of nice to you. 

You spaced out for some time while your body continued to move. Your brain was consumed with going over the overheard conversation and you later found yourself in the women’s bathrooms. You were sitting in the communal bath, staring at the tiled floor wringing a washcloth between your hands. Your fingers, toes and palms were wrinkly, clueing you to the fact that you’d been in there for a while and the soreness in your fingers meant you’d been wringing the cloth for a while. None of that really mattered though. Even though the water was now cool you remained in the bath, sinking down to your neck. A firm knock resounded on the door, breaking you from your trance and making the water slosh as you sat up quickly.

“Who - who is it?” you called out. Any of the nurses wouldn’t have knocked and you guessed a killer would have just come right in.  

“It’s Marco,” a familiar but muffled voice said through the thick wood. Drying yourself in a towel and covering your body in a fluffy robe, you padded towards the door. Cracking it open you saw it was indeed Marco and you pushed it open more widely.

“S-sorry, was I in here too long?” you asked, tucking your wet hair behind your ear.

“Yes, and now you’re cold but that’s not why I’m here yoi. I think we both overheard a conversation earlier that wasn’t ideal,” he said, his earlier casualness forgotten.

“You mean the bloodbag thing? I mean it wasn’t great but -” you started, minimizing your feelings. Maybe you’d journal or something later but now that you knew how things really were you didn’t feel like pouring your heart out to Marco again.

“It wasn’t appropriate and those involved are being punished -”

“Not appropriate? I - you're gonna try and deny it? Gonna try and tell me I'm anything else? I don’t care and I don’t have the energy for this. Thanks for the day off tomorrow, I’ll see you the day after," you said, shrugging your shoulders. You sidled past Marco, walking out of the bathroom. Marco extended his arm but retracted his hand, letting you pass without further incident.

You didn't know where to go now that you were tired and ready for bed - in your foolish heart you wanted to go back to Thatch’s room. But after that blood bag conversation you weren't sure if he actually enjoyed your presence or just spent time with you out of obligation to his captain. It would certainly make sense for Marco and Thatch to work together, you were much more compliant for Thatch than you were for Marco. Maybe they were playing you off one another to get you more amicable to the situation you were in. You passed the turn to Thatch's hall but kept going, avoiding the now familiar room.

You plodded on until you reached your old room, the one that - you pushed that memory out of your head as you opened the door and looked around. Someone had cleaned your walls and brought in new furniture to replace the broken furnishings. Taking a deep breath, you stepped into the room and shut the door. 

[spitfire-of-the-sea]

The Stowaway Series, Part 4: Karma

Guys. I know it's been *ages* but work is kicking my butt and taking away my will to write at the moment. (Thanks, science. No, it's great, please ruin all my hobbies for me).

Thanks for all of you who were waiting and encouraging me to continue. <3 The name for reader!Kitty is not yet fixed, if you have a preference, let me know in the comments!

And now, without further ado:

Find part 1, part 2 and part 3, if you want to read the beginning of this. =)

Word count: 3.4k Warnings: Still SFW. Just naked butts. Pretty safe, I think? Characters: Ace, Marco & Thatch… and cat!reader :D and Pops appearing, too!

The Stowaway Series, Part 4: Karma

You sat there, just watching them with zero thoughts in your brain for a couple of moments. Two grown pirates – one with a bounty of well over a billion, the other still with a respectable bounty of over half a billion – as they splashed each other with water and bubbles alike. Half-naked, of course, because none of them was wearing a shirt anymore.

What was this?! A Coca-Cola commercial?! What kind of freak pirate ship had you ended up on?!

You blinked slowly, your drenched fur slowly dripping water and making a puddle around you. A bubble slid down your nose and made you sneeze.

Or, perhaps, this was the male version of pillow fights…?

Somehow, right then a bucket smacked Ace right in the face and you thought that you probably preferred the more traditional pillow fights. Like, the ones that didn’t break your nose or anything. Not that Ace seemed to have any problem – if anything, it was the bucket that seemed rather worse for wear now. Slightly deformed, very much melting.

You instinctively ducked when a piece of soap came sailing towards your head and thanked your feline reflexes for saving you from looking like a Persian cat. You shuddered at the thought and slowly, one by one, your brain cells blinked back into existence. This brought with it the revelation that you were absolutely drenched and dripping wet, still bubbly, and very much in need of a proper rinse.

It did, however, also come with the realization that those two were currently pretty distracted and for the first time, you weren’t held by a half-naked man, surrounded by pirates, or incapacitated by water. This, you happily noted, was your chance to get out of here and find a place to hide away with your ninja-like skills. A place that was…-

“Did those two boneheads just abandon you like this, kitty?” the voice connected to the two hands that picked you up cooed at you.

Okay, so your perception wasn’t the greatest at the moment. So what?! You’d been through a lot, okay?!

With a deep, deep sigh, you just hung there in those hands that had closed around your ribcage, not even bothering to fight anymore. You were so done with this shit.

1/10 stars. Do not recommend. Service personnel is pretty hot but ultimately fails at its job.

“Shall we finish the job, hm? Maybe by the time we’re done, Marco will have scrubbed that feral little raccoon clean, too,” Thatch murmured and you were taken over to the shower he had just occupied.

And then… with a start… you remembered that he had been in exactly that shower like a moment ago and he’d been utterly naked. You also remembered that you had visually confirmed only minutes ago that he had a fine ass and the rest of his anatomy had also been pretty convincing.

On the one hand, for the sake of your modesty, you should be very concerned with the fact that he was probably still naked and you were about to enter a shower – also fully naked because you didn’t really count fur as clothes – with a man you had met less than an hour ago.

Had he saved your life? Yes.

But still. You were a good girl. (Or at least that’s what you usually told yourself. Most of the time.) You didn’t climb into showers for some naked and very splashy adventures until you were reasonably sure you’d actually end up having a good time.

On the other hand… you twisted in his arms and threw a curious glance down his front, your tail twitching in interest. If the rest of his body was any indication, he’d be…

Awwww. Covered with a towel.

“Miss Kitty, have a seat,” Thatch said and placed you on top of a little stool. You blinked up at him, not fully unsatisfied with the treatment. For one, he was being polite, and additionally, he had basically perched you on a little throne. Yes. Yes. This was acceptable.

Happy to hopefully get rid of the surplus bubbles you generously offered him a paw, somewhat ignoring the fact that you were supposed to be a simply stray cat, and he took it with a chuckle and started to rinse it clean.

“Or should I call you Lady, hm?” he asked and kneeled down next to you, very carefully washing all the remaining shampoo from your fur as you glanced down at him regally.

Admittedly, this didn’t feel too bad, you had your little perch, a pretty damn good-looking guy kneeling in front of you and basically giving you the finisher of a spa treatment…

Maybe you’d actually give them like… 5/10 stars after all.

Within a couple of minutes, you were actually pretty much clean and he turned off the water and stroked you with long, even movements to squeeze the water out of your fur. It felt quite heavenly, to be honest, and you might actually have started to purr a bit again…

Of course, you just couldn’t have nice things, could you?

Because this was when the door banged open – you were pretty sure some tiles cracked at the impact, and a freaking giant entered the room. And not to be dramatic… but he barely fit through that damn door and by your very modest estimate, it was probably four meters high. You started to look up along the legs. And looked up. And up. And.. still up.

When your gaze landed on a bare chest – what the fuck else, this ship apparently suffered from a severe cloth famine – you noticed enough scars to supply a full battalion of soldiers. And as it traveled even further up, you noticed a white captain’s coat slung over wide, wide shoulders. And as it finally reached a face, ducking in below the doorframe, you saw a white beard.

A.

White.

Beard.

You made a gurgling sound as all the air in your lungs suddenly rushed out of your body and you went first stiff, and then hot, and then felt the fur all along your body desperately trying to puff up against the forces of the remaining wetness in your fur.

Oh no. Oh no no no. This was Whitebeard. The legendary Whitebeard. The guy who’d fought the Pirate King and lived to tell the tale.

“I’m hungry,” he said by way of greeting, “and the boys told me to come here.”

The pressure in the room was almost overwhelming and your feral instincts kicked in before a single brain cell could so much as put a word in in favor of reason. He’d eat you. He’d fucking eat you. He was Edward Newgate, the famous Whitebeard. They’d cleaned you up to serve you to their bloodthirsty captain who ate babies and cute kittens for breakfast!

With a battle scream, you exploded out of Thatch’s hands onto the floor and barely managed to land on your feet in your blind panic. In a feat of pure elegance, you somehow tripped over your own tail only one step further, resulting in you face-planting on the floor for about 0.1 seconds, because that was all the time you allowed yourself to waste. Digging your claws into the tiles, you pushed off and actually propelled yourself onto the wall, just below knee height for the giant between you and survival. If you hadn’t been so busy not getting eaten, you’d have complimented your athleticism.

“What the…-,” Thatch managed to say by the time you took the second long leap towards the door.

You’d manage. You were swift. You were like the wind.

“Flight risk!” Ace screamed when you did your third leap and pushed himself off the floor to rush after you. Fate was in your favor. His foot landed on a bar of soap, his eyes widened comically, and his leg was pulled out from under him as he slipped. You’d have appreciated the beauty of it, probably, the arch his body described as his ass went up and his upper body went down and he landed – hard – on first his shoulders and then his head. You heard something crack and faintly hoped it wasn’t his head. It was pretty.

“Not so fast-yoi!” Marco chuckled as he plucked you out of the air in your fourth leap without breaking a sweat, wrapping a towel around you at the same moment. “And here I thought you were getting used to us.”

There was a select choice of words on the tip of your tongue. Among them were several that were connected to a certain part of his anatomy and the places he could shove it. You were not gonna be eaten! You’d scratch their eyes out! You’d carve your name into their faces! You’d fight until your last breath!

You had claws! You were a ferocious tiger, no matter how small! You had the devil’s power…! You… fucking… couldn’t get out of the towel!

“Now, what’s that?” Whitebeard asked, his tone rather surprised than particularly hungry.

“A cat,” Thatch answered helpfully and ambled closer, toweling his hair dry as he walked.

Maybe that was the problem. Maybe you should turn back into your human form to show them that you were not a cat and therefore, should not be eaten. Perhaps you should declare that you were not a virgin, either, just to be absolutely sure that they wouldn’t think you were useable for any sort of ritual or for feeding to the giant or…-

No. No. That was dragons. Dragons ate virgins.

What did giants eat?!

“I can see that,” Whitebeard answered, somewhat exasperated, and ducked lower to get a better look at you while you were fighting to get out of the towel. Your claws sliced through the cloth like a hot knife through butter and yet you just couldn’t get free. You shot a wild look at the giant captain.

You were no more than a snack for him. Surely, you weren’t even worth the effort!

But maybe it was no effort. He’d swallow you whole. Like that famous whale at the start of the Grand Line, that supposedly swallowed ships whole. You fought with renewed ferocity and Marco clicked his tongue at you, fighting to keep you under control.

Ace slowly tried to get up again, clutching his hands to the back of his head. “Ouch.”

He was still alive, then. Good. At least you thought it was good…? Perhaps…? At least you hadn’t gotten any cat-eating vibes from him.

The sounds of fabric ripping below your claws announced how close you were to freedom and Marco cursed under his breath, juggling you from one hand to the other to avoid giving you a chance to latch onto one of his fingers.

“Is anybody going to tell me why there’s a cat?” Whitebeard asked finally, his tone surprisingly even.

“It’s our new cat,” Ace said, rubbing at the back of his head. There were tears in his eyes as he tenderly felt around for the quickly forming bump.

“Our cat?” Whitebeard prompted, slowly sounding less patient.

“Yes,” Ace confirmed. “Spot.”

You sank your teeth into a piece of towel and ripped at it, glaring up at Marco, who reached for a second towel, frowning. “She doesn’t have a single spot-yoi.”

“I see lots of spots,” Ace muttered and blinked slowly. “I knew it all along. The soap almost killed me. Told you it causes more harm than good.”

“Your head is way too hard for that. You’re fine. Also, I think Whiskers is a far better name,” Thatch threw in.

Personally, you thought they were both pretty shit. With a low growl, you twisted in Marco’s hands, managed to graze his index finger with one fang, and then were rolled into a second layer of towel. You didn’t feel entirely unlike a burrito.

Heh. A Purrito.

You were hilarious, even when you were 5 seconds away from being eaten. But you were not about to give them any ideas.

“Would you stop that?” Marco asked you with a sigh. “It’s just Pops-yoi.”

“Fluffy?” Ace suggested and slowly came to his feet. Even upside down and pretty sure something horrible was about to happen you could appreciate that the drops of water glittering on his skin and slowly sliding down his very defined abs made him look fine as hell.

“Killer,” Marco threw in and you glowered, wiggling yourself forward and out of the towel wrapped around you millimeter by millimeter. You were still contemplating the idea of turning back into a human – both to be able to think straight again and to maybe tell them that you wouldn’t stand for such ridiculous names. Ah, and the detail to please not eat you or do something else horrible.

Thatch leaned forward and booped your nose. You snapped your jaws at him but he was too quick for you, you didn’t even manage to nick him. “Catness Everclean,” he happily suggested and you couldn’t help it, you rolled your eyes.

So he read those types of books, huh? Probably also read romance novels and smut. You scoffed.

“Boys…,” Whitebeard said with a tone that you knew pretty well from your father. It was the tone he used when he was down to his last nerves and he was between giving you up for adoption and accepting his hand in making you the person you were. Your ears twitched.

“Can we keep her?” Ace asked, slowly coming closer, one eye squeezed shut and with one hand still at the back of his head.

“I don’t think…-,” Whitebeard started.

“Look how cute she is!” Ace immediately continued and grabbed you out of Marco’s arms. Still covered in one layer of towels, plus a few stripes of the first one. You tried to twist but his grip didn’t give an inch.

His effort was admirable, really, but with only your face visible in the layers of towels, and your eyes almost popping out of your head from the effort of fighting for freedom, you probably looked more deranged than cute.

“We already have a dog,” Whitebeard answered slowly.

You hissed, sounding somewhat suffocated. Probably due to the lack of air in your lungs at this current moment.

“Somehow, she reminds me of Ace-yoi,” Marco muttered, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “Is she trying to kill us? Sure. But in a slightly deranged and yet charming kinda way. You can’t really be mad at her. It’s cute, in a way.”

For that, he got another hiss. Sadly you couldn’t give him the middle finger right now. Which was probably good, you reminded yourself, he was an evil pirate, after all.

“Lady Floofiness,” Ace said as if he had heard nothing. When he tried to kick Marco who stood beside him, the older commander simply moved out of his way. “Once she’s dry, you can see for yourself. She’s really pretty and very, very gentle.”

Okay. You were pretty happy he hadn’t cracked his skull open. He was pretty cute. Plus, he probably wouldn’t let you get eaten. You hoped. At least he was your best shot in this room.

Marco snorted a laugh. “Gentle? She tried to amputate my finger. Again.”

“You held her wrong,” Ace hissed under his breath. “You need to support her…-“

“Butt. I know-yoi,” Marco answered with a shake of his head, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

What was this fascination with your butt?! You had a pretty great one, sure, but in your human form. That you were not about to show them. You had decided so. Perhaps your animal instincts had been a bit overwhelmed by the giant standing at the door, but you slowly lost the fear of somebody wanting to eat you.

Or perhaps you were just going numb. Whichever one.

You squinted up at Whitebeard, who was looking at you with a frown. His beard twitched as he regarded you and you quickly reversed direction and instead of trying to get out of the towel, you buried yourself deeper into it, away from his prying eyes.

“Stefan might not like it,” he finally said.

“He likes Kotatsu just fine,” Ace countered. “And she’s much smaller, won’t take up any space. She can sleep in my cabin.” He started to slowly unwrap you and you grabbed one corner of the towel and tried to hold onto it, suddenly not desiring freedom so much. Freedom meant having no barrier between you and those piercing eyes.

You were still holding onto the towel desperately when two giant fingers grabbed you by the scruff of your neck and picked you up. Gulping, you winced when your body went limb, suddenly unable to do anything but stare at the giant man who had picked you up. He held you in front of his face and you held your breath. This was it. This was the end.

He opened his mouth and you squeezed your eyes shut.

Goodbye, cruel world. I’m leaving you today.

“Stefanie,” he said then and you slowly opened one eye back up.

A brief moment of silence, then Thatch cleared his throat and Marco shuffled his feet, searching for words. Ace was less polite. “That’s a shit name, old man,” he blurted out.

“Fluffy isn’t much better,” Thatch murmured and Ace shot him a glare.

“Says the man who suggested Catness Everclean-yoi.” Marco crossed his arms in front of his chest and shook his head.

“Yeah, and Killer as a name for a teeny tiny fluffy cat clearly wins a prize for creativity,” Thatch shot back.

Marco shrugged. “We can also call her Calamity Jane, seeing as how she made Freckles almost crack his head open, made you bleed for the first time in, what, four years? And has actually managed to nick my skin here.” He lifted a finger with a frown and you could see a tiny drop of blood there for a moment before blue flames engulfed it and it was gone in the next moment.

Thatch, who saw the sparkle in Ace’s eyes, quickly shook his head even as he took a look at his forearms and registered with some surprise that you had indeed managed to scratch him. He dabbed at it with the end of his towel, still shaking his head. “Absolutely not.”

“I think it’s cool,” Ace weighed in and came to stand just below you, holding his arms out expectantly. You curled your tail around yourself and hoped that you’d indeed be handed over again. Ace was the one who held you in the most comfortable way – by far!

To be fair, perhaps you hadn’t given Marco much of a chance with your little panic attack.

But that was hardly your fault. You were in a room with Edward Fucking Newgate, also called Whitebeard. Also having the highest bounty in the whole of the fucking world. You were pretty sure a little panic was justified.

“You just like it because it fits into your little card naming scheme. Ace. Spade Pirates. Spadille. Calamity Jane,” Thatch accused him and when Marco raised an inquisitive eyebrow, he shrugged. “Queen of Spades? Calamity Jane?”

“Oh,” Marco made and rubbed at his chin. “Then no.”

“Hey!” Ace snapped and lifted himself on his tiptoes to reach for you.

You honestly shouldn’t feel so relieved at the guy heartily grabbing your butt, but at least Whitebeard let go of the scruff of your neck and you dropped into Ace’s outstretched hands. Gulping down a shiver – not quite successfully – you were happy when he brought you close to his chest again. Especially since he didn’t seem to mind that you were still wet.

“I haven’t said yes yet,” Whitebeard reminded them with a sigh. “At least I know now why they were all snickering like idiots when they sent me here.”

“You also haven’t said no yet,” Ace reminded him with a grin and started to stroke you with long, calming movements. Eyes unblinking and brain simply overloaded thanks to the last hour, you lay there against his chest and contemplated whether this was karma. Whether perhaps you had stolen one too many times from the rich and given to the poor. Mainly you, actually. But you were poor.

Ugh. You needed a cocktail with lots of rum and a cigarette.

And you didn’t even smoke.

[randompersion]

What a way to get rejected!

Original art is not mine!

[rollinouttahere-writes]

platonic yandere WB and orphan feral child reader

Solitude

Platonic Yandere Whitebeard Pirates x GN Child Reader

5.3k words

Summary: Your life of isolation on an abandoned island is interrupted when a mistake leads to you being spotted by some pirates.

Warnings: brief descriptions of death and violence, starvation, drugging, forced adoption, platonic yanderes

Creeping closer to the shoreline left your nerves rattled. While it wasn’t unheard of for pirates to stop at this island, you’ve never seen a ship so big before. You stare in awe and fear at the behemoth of a ship stationed not far from the shore.

From your hiding spot under some brush, you’ve seen several pirates leave the ship and disperse throughout the island. Presumably, they were looking for food. They wouldn’t find much. This has been a bad year for fruit and berries, and the few animals that called this island home were getting harder and harder to catch.

Frustration ate away at you. There was so little for you to eat as is, and these people were about to steal what was left. You were already starving, and now it’s about to get worse. Still, you weren’t stupid enough to confront them about it. Talking to pirates was a dangerous idea… you learned that lesson the hard way.

Being stranded wasn’t so bad at first. You still had your mom and dad, and they took care of the bulk of the work. They’d built the treehouse that you call home and taught you how to survive. While they were always trying to flag down passing ships for help, you’d never cared all that much about it. You could barely even remember what civilization was like anymore, so you felt no real desire to go back to it. Being alone with your family was all that you knew, and the idea of anything else felt scary.

Everything came crashing down the day that some pirates docked at the island. Your parents told you to stay put in the treehouse and approached the crew to beg them for a ride back home. Following them was something you would go on to regret for the rest of your life. Despite your family being nothing but kind and respectful… they were brutalized. All you could do was watch in terror as your parents were beaten to death for “bothering” the pirates.

You hated pirates. 

Dragging your parents’ battered bodies back home was a grueling effort. They were so much bigger than you were, and you couldn’t stop crying as you looked at their bodies. If you hadn't seen it happen, you wouldn’t have even been sure it was them. Then you had to dig their graves with your bare hands. It took all day to get both of the holes deep enough to put them into. You brought over the biggest rocks you could carry as a way to mark where they were so you would never forget.

Ever since that day, you’ve been completely alone. It was hard. So much harder than you ever imagined. It’s not like you didn’t know how much your parents had done for you while they were still alive, but it was completely different having to now do all of it by yourself without any guidance. 

Gathering and storing rainwater was all up to you, getting food was all up to you, starting fires to cook meat and keep warm was all up to you. There were many points during the first year by yourself where you thought you were going to die. Miraculously, you managed to survive and settle into your independent role. You’ve survived on your own for a little over three years now by following your instincts and what your parents taught you. Today was the first time you’ve considered going against one of your rules.

You knew that your next course of action should be to leave and hide out until these pirates get off the island. Getting as close as you already have was needlessly risky, but you couldn’t help it. They were cooking up a bunch of food on the beach and it smelled amazing. Your stomach growled and you were salivating as the aroma of cooking meat assaulted your senses. Maybe it’s because you were starving from struggling to forage this year, but you couldn’t bring yourself to leave.

It was stupid… but you need food. If they’re going to take your food, then why shouldn’t you take some of theirs? The guy that had been cooking left a little while ago to go back to the ship for something, and no one else was around. If you were quick… This should be fine.

After taking another glance around to confirm that no one would see you, you spring out of the bushes and sprint for where the food is. There are several tables littered with food. You skid to a stop in front of one and grab the first thing that you see. Crouching down behind the table, you examine your find. It’s brown and has a tough, yet crumbly exterior. When you squeeze it, it gives easily and crackles under the force of your hands. Without a second of hesitation, you bring it to your mouth and bite into it. The inside is white and much softer. It’s simultaneously chewy and crunchy, and you love it. Your eyes start to grow wet as you chew it.

It tastes so good.

The rest of it is eaten in seconds, and then you grab more of these things off the table and stuff them into your bag that you carry with you everywhere. As much as you want to sample everything now, you have no idea how much time you have before someone comes back. Getting caught was not an option. If pirates killed your parents just for speaking to them, you didn’t want to find out what they would do to someone who stole from them.

Random food is stuffed into your bag as you frantically look around for signs of someone coming back. You approach the fire that has meat roasting over it. Your mouth watered as you smelled it from so close up. You reach for it, then pull your hand away. It would make more sense to cut off a piece with your knife. Grabbing something that’s roasting over an open fire will just burn your hand.

You drop to your knees and try to find your hunting knife in your bag. Just as you find it, you hear something. Footsteps. Your heart hammers in your chest and you frantically scramble under the nearest table. Peeking out from under the table, you see the cook coming back with a basket in his arms. He drops it on a table, then walks over to where the meat is cooking and checks on it.

One of your hands clutches your knife, while the other covers your nose and mouth to keep yourself quiet. Your heart is pounding in your chest so loud that you’re scared he’s going to hear it.

The man approaches the table you’re under and stops moving. You shake in fear, thinking you’ve been found. He lets out an exasperated sigh and calls out, “Can you people not wait ten minutes before pillaging?!” He grumbles under his breath about bottomless pits and starts to turn away, only to stop when he hears something.

Your stomach growling.

Trying to clutch your stomach does nothing. It’s too late now. You can only hope that he didn’t actually hear that, but it was so loud. What feels like hours pass in the tensest silence of your life, then a hand shoots under the table and grabs your arm before hauling you out into the open.

You’re effortlessly brought up to eye level with the cook, who stares at you with a baffled expression. His mouth opens and closes a few times before words actually come out. “Who… Where did you come from?”

Finally, your instincts override your terror, and you slash at him with your knife. His arms are so long that you can’t even reach him, but the action is still enough to be startling and make him drop you. The second you hit the ground, you run. You duck under the table to grab your bag and then take off towards the woods.

“Hey, wait! Come back!”

The cook tries to run after you, but you’re able to easily lose him once you enter the forest. There are plenty of tight squeezes that you know someone his size won’t be able to fit through. It’s not long before you’ve stopped hearing his voice and you can finally slow down. You lean against a tree as you catch your breath.

Normally, you wouldn’t get exhausted so easily, but your emaciated body couldn’t handle much exertion anymore. You pant hard and cough loudly as you sink to the ground. Internally, you curse at yourself for being so weak. You need to get back to the treehouse. Just because that one guy gave up didn’t mean that there wouldn’t be others.

Forcing yourself to get back on your feet, you continue the trek back home. You pull out another one of those brown things from your bag and start munching on it. This one tastes just as good as the last, and you can’t help but wonder what it is. It isn’t like anything you’ve ever had before. 

As you walk, you hear something strange. You freeze and look around. It sounds like… a bird? But the flap of the wings is much louder than you’re used to. You whip your head around frantically while trying to identify the source.

Then you see it. A giant, blue bird was flying overhead. And it looked like it was on fire. You watch, slack jawed, as it lands on a branch above your head and peers down at you. It isn’t behaving aggressively, but that isn’t enough to quell your fear. That bird could easily swoop down and pick you up, and its talons looked like they were as long as your fingers. You start walking backwards while keeping your eyes locked on the animal. You aren’t far from your treehouse now. If you could just get in there, you should be safe. That giant bird looked too big to fit inside.

Much to your horror, the bird starts following you from a distance. Its actions aren’t necessarily predatory yet, but you figure that’s only because it’s trying to decide if you’re worth the effort to prey on or not. It takes effort to not run, but you’ve learned over the years that doing that will only encourage the animal to attack. You walk at a brisk pace while watching the bird as closely as you can while periodically glancing over your shoulder to make sure that you’re still going the right way.

You’re relieved when you see your treehouse come into view, only to quickly become distressed when the bird lands on one of the branches supporting it. This is enough to give you pause about entering it. You really don’t want to get too close to that bird. It could easily carry you away if it was able to grab you… but it hasn’t behaved like a predator at all yet. Maybe it’s just curious and will go away once you get inside?

Taking a deep breath to settle your rattled nerves, you start climbing up the tree. There used to be a rope ladder, but it fell apart about a year ago, so now you’re stuck scaling the tree using its trunk, branches and the vines growing on it.

Once again, your weakened state was taking a heavy toll on you. Normally, you could get from the forest floor to the treehouse in a matter of seconds. Today, after your previous run and the fast paced walking you did, you were so exhausted that you had to take a break halfway up. A vine is tightly clutched in your shaky hands to help keep you steady as you sit on one of the branches, trying to catch your breath and get your head to stop spinning.

The familiar sound of heavy wings flapping cuts through the air again, and you look up in hopes that you’ll see that weird bird flying away. The bird flies behind the tree, then comes around and lands on another branch. The one that you’re on. 

The branch dips under the added weight of the large bird, forcing you to hold onto the vine tighter to keep from falling. Your heart was pounding again as the creature inched closer to you. You’re frozen in fear and stuck staring up at it as its head cranes over to you. The way its eyes examine you feels weird. It seems so… calculated. Intelligent. Birds’ eyes have never looked so purposeful to you.

Now that it’s so close, you can’t help but be drawn to the markings around its eyes. The way that the purple feathers frame them reminds you of the glasses that your father wore. The reminder makes your chest feel weird, so you quickly dismiss it. This isn’t a good time to be getting sentimental. You need to get into your treehouse before those pirates spot you, or this bird decides that it wants to eat you.

Using a burst of energy brought on by your desire to not become a snack, you frantically close the gap between you and your home. The bird doesn’t lunge after you, much to your relief, but you still slam the hatch shut as soon as you get through the hole in the floor that acts as the entrance to your treehouse. You collapse on the floor, gasping for breath and coughing loudly between each ragged inhale.

You freeze and snap your head up when you hear the bird take off, and you wonder if it’s about to attack your home. It’s so large that you think it would be able to cave in the roof just from landing on it. Much to your relief, however, the flaps of its powerful wings grow more and more faint as the animal flies away from your home. Your head falls back onto the floor as the tension finally leaves your body.

It takes a while for you to recover from your exhaustion enough to get to your feet. When you do, you trudge over to the pile of fabrics and furs that make up your bed and fall onto it. You slide your bag off your shoulder and rip open the flap so you can finally sate your appetite with your findings.

Everything is okay. You’re safe for now.

At first, all you can do is gawk at how much food you have. You’ve never had so much food at once. It’s almost overwhelming to have so many options in front of you in such a plentiful amount.

Snapping out of your choice paralysis, you grab something that you think is a fruit. It’s bright orange, and the skin feels thick and textured. You sniff it, but the smell isn’t all that strong. Experimentally, you bite into it. The skin is tough, but once your teeth break through, juice squirts out and drips down your hands and into your mouth. The taste is like nothing you’ve ever had before. It’s so strong and sweet and it makes your mouth feel funny, but in a good way. You rip out the chunk you bit into and chew it. The skin doesn’t taste very good, and you wonder if you’re even supposed to eat it. You pick off pieces of the skin until you can bite into just the flesh of the fruit. When you do, you feel like your previous assumption about the skin was correct. Eating the flesh directly was infinitely better with the skin out of the way.

You make quick work of the rest of the fruit. Your hands and face are sticky, but you’re feeling happy for once. You took a major risk stealing this stuff, but it felt worth it. Your stomach was going to be full, and you got to taste new things, even if it would be just this once. You’re about to dive back into your bag of goodies, but then you hear it.

Footsteps. Lots of them. 

Your previous elation is gone in an instant and replaced with raw fear. You unsheath your hunting knife and drop into a crawl. You go over to where there’s a small split in the wall for you to peer out of without risking being seen. As you squint through the crack, your heart drops into your stomach when you see three people approaching the tree your home is in. One of them is the cook that saw you earlier. You start to panic, realizing that you’ve been hunted down.

This is it for you. You’re about to suffer the same fate as your parents because you got careless. 

You scurry backwards until your back is against one of the walls. There’s only one way in and out of this treehouse: the hatch on the floor. It isn’t very big, only one person can climb through at a time. Maybe, just maybe, you’ll be able to take them on as each comes through. It’s unlikely, but this is your only chance. You refuse to just roll over and let them kill you. If you die today, you’ll go down fighting.

The walls muffle noise from the outside, making it impossible for you to make out what’s being said. What you can hear loud and clear is someone scaling up the tree. The branches creak loudly under that person’s weight as they easily climb up. In mere seconds, you see the hatch get pushed up and to the side. Your fingers squeeze around the hilt of your knife in preparation for what you need to do.

A head pokes through. A man with dark hair and freckles on his face peers around your treehouse. He chuckles quietly and mutters to himself, “This really takes me back.”

He starts to haul himself through the hole, and that’s when you finally spring into action. You lunge at him with a snarl and bring your blade down on his neck with all your might. At least you tried to. 

With seemingly no effort, the man grabs your wrist, effectively bringing you to a halt. His grip is impossibly strong. You try to pull away, but he won’t budge. You expect the man to snap your arm or hit you with an attack of his own, but he barely even reacts to you. He keeps a firm, yet surprisingly painless, grip on you while he finishes climbing into your home. He speaks to you in a casual tone, “Relax, kid. No one’s here to hurt you.”

Your wrist is released, but he snatches your knife out of your hand and closely examines it. He runs his thumb along the edge and laughs a little. “Damn, I didn’t even need to block. This thing is so dull that I don’t think it would have been able to cut me.” When he looks back up at you, you scramble back, completely terrified from how easily this guy disarmed you. The man notes your apparent terror and sets down your knife before holding his hands up, “Hey, take it easy. I promise I’m not going to hurt you. No one will.” A hand is extended toward you. The hand is open and relaxed. “I’m Ace. What’s your name?”

All that you do is stare at him. You’re not sure what he’s doing. Does he expect you to give him something after he already took your knife? 

The smile that he was sporting drops slightly, and he retracts his hand. “Not much for handshakes? Can you at least tell me your name?” Again, you just stare at him. You don’t know why he’s behaving the way he is, which only makes you more anxious. Ace’s smile droops more. “Can you talk? Do you understand what I’m saying?”

You decide to answer his last question with a tense nod. The response makes his smile return and he appears to be oddly relieved for reasons that you can’t fathom.

Ace scoots closer to you while pulling something off of his belt. “That’s good. I was starting to get worried that I’d have to act out everything.” He removes the top from the thing he pulled off his belt and holds it out to you. You can’t see what’s inside it from where you’re crouched, but you can see steam coming out of it. “Here, I brought something for you.”

When you don’t make a move to take it from him, he sighs and sets it down on the floor before moving back. “No need to be so suspicious, kid. Thatch warmed up some milk and honey for you. He thought you could use it.”

You don’t know what milk or honey is. Is it food? Accepting something from a pirate feels like a bad idea, but you get the feeling that he doesn’t plan to go away until you do. And with him blocking the way out and also having your only usable weapon, you feel like you don’t really have a choice here.

Carefully, you creep forward. Your eyes stay trained on Ace as you do. His own eyes are flitting around your home. The lack of focus on you helped soothe your nerves slightly, but you still scrambled back frantically once you were able to grab the weird cup-thing. It was warm to the touch, and the stuff inside was white. You sniff at it, and your stomach growls in response to the comforting aroma. You take an experimental sip. The taste is sweet and soothing, but also weirdly familiar. An old memory tickled at the back of your mind, but not clearly enough to fully remember it. Have you had this “milk and honey” before? Maybe before your family became stranded on this island?

Immediately, you tilt the cup up and start gulping it down greedily, wanting to drink it all before Ace could try and take it back. It’s gone in a matter of seconds. Despite just being a drink, it felt oddly filling. You feel disappointed that it’s gone already, but you don’t want to push your luck by asking for more.

Ace’s shoulders relax when you finish the drink, though you’re not sure why. He attempts to converse with you again. “See? I’m not so bad, right? I don’t suppose you want to tell me your name now, do you?”

Sharing your name feels weird. Your parents were the only people who ever knew it, and a part of you wants to keep it that way. But… Ace has been strangely nice to you. Maybe it won’t be a bad thing to tell him.

“... (Y/N).”

Your voice croaks and your throat aches from just saying the one word. Now that you think about it… you don’t think you’ve spoken since your parents died. There hasn’t been a reason to since that fateful day..

The noticeable pain in your voice caught Ace’s attention, and he frowned. He moves closer to you again. While you do tense up, you don’t move away, which he appears to take as a good sign. He moves even closer to you and speaks up again, “You look pretty hungry, (Y/N). Thatch brought some food for you.”

This makes you perk up and glance around his person, trying to figure out where he’s keeping the food at. He picks up on that and laughs lightly. “I don’t have it. If you want it… you have to come with me. Okay?”

As soon as he says that, you recoil. While he had earned a little bit of trust, it wasn’t enough to make you blindly follow him.

Ace’s hand shoots out and grabs yours before you can back away too much. His grip is firm, but not crushing. He squeezes it gently and speaks in a calm voice, “You don’t have to go far. You just have to come down from this tree. Thatch and Marco are waiting at the bottom.” When you don’t look convinced and instead keep trying to pull away, he drags you over to the hole in the floor and guides you to look down. The other two people you saw before are standing by the base of the tree. They smile warmly and wave at you.

“They just want to see you and make sure you’re okay. Can you please come down so they can do that?”

Your instincts are screaming at you to not agree and stay up here. You’ve already taken too many risks today, and this feels like an insane idea. You’re already vulnerable purely from your physical state, but you would also be outnumbered three-to-one if you go down there.

But, what’s stopping them from coming up if you don’t cooperate? It feels like you’re already caught, so maybe you should just do whatever they say so as to not upset them

With significant hesitation, you give Ace an affirmative nod, which makes him grin widely. You expect for him to start climbing down so you could follow him. Rather than that, he abruptly picks you up and drops out of the hole. You squawk in surprise and flail as both of you fall. Your eyes screw shut and you brace for impact, only for him to somehow slow down just before he lands. It almost sounds like there’s a fire for a moment, but by the time your eyes open so you can look, the noise is gone.

And you’re surrounded by three pirates. 

You shrink in on yourself as the other two stare at you. They don’t look angry, but you feel scared of them regardless. Ace sets you down on the ground, then gently pushes you towards them.

The tall cook that you ran from earlier crouches down and smiles widely at you. Even now, he towers over you, prompting you to lean back against Ace. Your wariness does nothing to deter the cook. He pulls out a small box and holds it out to you.

“Hey there! I’m Thatch. You gave me quite the surprise earlier. I thought for sure it was Ace getting into the food early.” When you don’t take the box, he pulls the lid off and shows what’s inside. There’s a bunch of food densely packed into it, and the wave of smells that hits you leaves your mouth watering. 

Your restraint dies on the spot, and you quickly snatch the box out of his hands and grab a handful of food before stuffing it into your mouth. You glance up at Thatch while you’re chewing and see him holding out some tiny, shiny thing with some points on the end.

He chuckles and stuffs it back in his pocket while returning to his full height, “I guess we can teach you about silverware later.”

While you eat, you keep your back pressed against Ace’s legs. You’re only half paying attention as the men talk amongst themselves.

Thatch spoke first, “Can they talk?”

“A little. I got them to tell me their name, but it sounds like the kid hasn’t said anything in forever. Their name is (Y/N).”

The blonde man, who you’re assuming has to be Marco, kneels down and starts examining you closely. His glasses reminded you a little bit of the bird you saw earlier. His scrutinizing gaze makes you hold your box of food tighter and turn away from him slightly. This makes him chuckle and speak to you in a soothing voice, “I’m not going to take it. I just want to get a good look at you so I can make sure you’re okay.”

His hand touches your hair and lifts clumps of it up. You wince as the matted sections of hair tug at your scalp. You used to keep your hair cut short but were forced to stop when your knife became so dull that it couldn’t really cut through anymore.

Marco hummed quietly and muttered under his breath, “Might be best to just shave it all off.” He dropped the hair clumps and moved on to examining your face. His eyes zeroed in on something in particular, and he frowns. “Did you break your nose?”

The question brings you back to a time shortly after your parents’ death. Your father had done the majority of the hunting when he was still alive, and he would use his rifle to take down some of the larger animals on the island. You had tried using it to kill a hog, but that ended horribly. Not only had you missed, but the gun jerked backwards and slammed right into your nose with a loud crack. When you managed to get to a stream so you could see your reflection, you saw that your nose was crooked. You had tried to fix it, but it hurt so bad when you touched it that you weren’t able to make it much better.

You snapped out of your thoughts and nodded your head to answer Marco’s question. He carefully holds your face and runs his thumbs down either side of your nose. Pain shoots through it, making you whine and try to pull away. He allows you to, which you appreciate.

“Is it hard to breathe through your nose?”

You stuff the last handful of food into your mouth before answering him. It takes a moment for you to find the words and force them out, “A little… used to it…”

Marco sighs softly at your answer. He pulls out a piece of cloth from his pocket and uses it to wipe off your face and hand. The cloth is put away, and he continues with his questions. “Are your parents here?”

The question makes you tense up. You didn’t appreciate how many reminders you were getting of them today. You nod stiffly, then point over to the rocks marking where they’re buried. The men glance around in confusion for a moment before looking back at you. You sigh and go over to the rocks and pat the dirt. “Here.”

All of their faces contort as they figure out what you meant.

Thatch was the one to break the silence. “You aren’t out here all alone, are you?”

You nod.

“How long have you been alone for?”

“... Three years.”

They all share wide-eyed looks with each other. Marco quickly strides up to you and takes one of your hands in his, “Let’s go back to the ship, okay?”

“No!” Any previous calm you had faded away and was replaced with a raw panic. You flailed your arm in a desperate attempt to get him to let go, but much like Ace, he wouldn’t budge.

Marco uses his other hand to grab your shoulder and force you to hold still. “Calm down, you’re just going to hurt yourself. We’re going to help you. You aren’t going to have to be alone anymore.”

You try to keep fighting, you really do, but your head starts to spin and your limbs grow weak. Before you can completely collapse, Marco scoops you up into his arms. You want to push him away, but your arms won’t do anything. All that you can do is blink wearily at your surroundings as they all swirl and blend together.

Thatch steps closer and gently pats your head. “About time. I was starting to think I went too light on the dosage. Did (Y/N) not drink all of the milk?”

“They did. They downed the entire thermos in a few seconds. I didn’t think they were going to so much as make it out of the treehouse awake.”

“I guess they’re tougher than I thought. The poor thing looked so scrawny and sickly that I was afraid I might kill them with a normal dose.”

All that comes out of you is a weak whimper as your vision starts to fade to black. Marco rubs your back and begins to walk. The gentle rocking from his gait only makes you nod off faster. His voice is quiet as he tells you assurances of how everything is going to be better now, but it does nothing to comfort you.

Terror is the only thing in your mind as you finally succumb to whatever they just did to you.

[bbyjackie]

𝐒𝐎𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐋𝐒 𝐀𝐒 𝐀𝐂𝐄'𝐒 𝐆𝐅 — ♡

one piece social media + dating pt.2 feat: ace

♡ liked by chef.thatch, marco_o and 11.4k others

_ynln: mad he lost a handstand contest to some kid 🥱🥱

tagged: ace

ace: tell me how i got rated a 6/10 and that rat of a human got 9/10 🫤

↳ marco_o: you definitely got bullied as a kid with that attitude (liked by chef.thatch, _ynln, yamatoto)

↳ _ynln: MARCO JWVFIJBVFQO 😭😭

↳ ace: just letting you guys know, i wasn't bullied. i was the bully 💪💪

↳ izou.u: that does NOT make it any better

↳ saaaa_bo: why are you proud of that, all you did was bully luffy

↳ ace: now i'm not saying i stand with bullying but.. ☝️

↳ yamatoto: BUT WHAT???

p1rateking_luffy: Hehe Ace remember when we used to have handstand contests and Makino was the judge! 😁

↳ _ynln: omg that sounds adorable

↳ ace: yeah and you would fall on your head

↳ ace: makes sense why you're so stupid

↳ p1rateking_luffy: what does that mean

↳ ace: see what i'm saying

↳ saaaa_bo: you're literally the last person that can say anything

♡ liked by nicorobin, p1rateking_luffy and 9.6k others

_ynln: girls don’t want no scrubs!

[music: No Scrubs - TLC ♫]

tagged: lovenami, nicorobin

nicorobin: had so much fun with you 💗

↳ _ynln: I MISS U ALREADY

ace: YOU ARE SO BEAUTIFUL I CAN'T STOP LOOKING AT THESE PHOTOS 😍😍❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥💝💞💕❣️❣️

ace: I AM NOT A SCRUB GIVE ME A CHANCE!

↳ _ynln: stop i have a boyfriend

↳ ace: screw him, i'll fight your boyfriend

↳ _ynln: he'll mess u up

↳ ace: HE PROBABLY STINKS

↳ _ynln: yeah he does LMFAOO (liked by saaaa_bo, marco_o)

↳ ace: 😐😐

ace: PLEASE ONE CHANCE PLEASE 😩😩

↳ _ynln: YOURE SO ANNOYING 😭😭

lovenami: WHEN CAN WE HANG OUT AGAIN

↳ lovenami: I MISS MY HUSTLE PARTNER ALREADY

♡ liked by iampops, sh444nks and 13.1k others

_ynln: i want to be that dog so bad

tagged: ace

marco_o: holy shit i've never been jealous of a dog

↳ ace: dw u can kiss me anytime 😘

↳ marco_o: bruh no i meant i want to sock you in the face

sh444nks: HAHAHA this is so good

↳ _ynln: omg i made it in life, redhair shanks commented on my post????!

↳ iampops: Yn I comment too

izou.u: first photo made my day, thanks yn

↳ yamatoto: real!!1!

p1rateking_luffy: AHAHHAHAH THIS IS SO FUNNY HAHAHHA

saaaa_bo: this photo is free therapy

ace: WOW THIS COMMENT SECTION MADE ME REALISE ALL MY FRIENDS ARE FAKES

↳ yamatoto: so glad ur self aware!!

↳ _ynln: love u i swear!

↳ ace: u r full of shit

↳ _ynln:❣️

♡ liked by saaaa_bo, iampops and 18.4k others

ace: my pookie dookie 💩 💗

tagged: _ynln

_ynln: words can't explain how much i hate that caption

↳ ace: my sweet white mocha frappuccino with two pumps vanilla, chocolate drizzle and one scoop of java chips

↳ _ynln: omg wow i was so close to pressing the block button

_ynln: rare photo of ace w a shirt on ‼️

saaaa_bo: @_ynln blink twice if u need help

iampops: W photo 💪

↳ ace: POPS WHAT

↳ marco_o: WHO TAUGHT YOU THAT

↳ iampops: Big slay ☝️☝️

↳ iampops: Yn no cap 🚫

↳ izou.u: someone literally needs to come get their grandpa 😭

↳ _ynln: pops using colloquial language needs to be protected in a museum (liked by ace)

p1rateking_luffy: Yummy food 😋😋

[innerfare]

Blue Balls - Ace: Part 1

Summary: Ace ends up with a case of blue balls; text below the cut

Pairing: Portgas D. Ace x Afab!Reader

Genre: smut

CW: oral sex (Ace receiving), dirty talk

Word Count: 1,001

———

Ace rubbed his hand up and down his muscular chest, trailing it down his abdomen where it met yours. His fingers tangled with yours, and he found himself conflicted: he wanted to grab your hand and use it to pull you to your feet so he could kiss you some more, but he also wanted you to stay on your knees in front of him, eager for his cock in your watering mouth. 

He stood with his legs apart, that big cock of his in his other hand, while you looked up at him with your precious doe eyes and licked your lips, swollen from the sloppy, heated kisses the two of you had shared. 

You bore more evidence of those kisses on your neck, red and irritated from his tongue and teeth. At the sight of those marks, and with a perfect view of your cleavage in your pretty bra, his cock twitched in his hand. Did he want to cum on that cleavage, or did he want to cum in your mouth? You always told him he could cum anywhere he wanted, leaving him with paralysis of choice. He told himself he didn’t have to decide yet, that he had the entire night to choose. 

“Finally got you alone,” he muttered. He’d barely made it through dinner, and he’d almost challenged Jozu to a duel for making a joke about you that was clearly goodnatured and you’d laughed at; Ace was too tightly wound that night to see the humor in it. 

Before you, he’d been perfectly capable of getting himself off. Now, he needed your lips around his cock or his cock in your pussy or at least his tongue on your clit twice a day to feel like himself.

Golden pussy, Marco called it. 

Ace had punched him for daring refer to your pussy, even if to compliment it, but he knew his brother was right. 

You smiled up at him, untangling your fingers from his to keep rubbing his lower stomach, the muscles tight and rigid beneath your touch. With your other hand, you grabbed his calf, massaging his leg muscles. You placed a few sweet kisses against his inner thigh, nuzzling your soft cheek against him like he wasn’t one of the most dangerous, most notorious pirates in the world, like he wasn’t some sort of terrifying monster. 

The intimacy made Ace want to explode into a ball of flames, but he knew he had to keep his body temperature down for your sake. 

He let out a low breath, stroking your hair again. 

“You’re so fucking hot,” he said in that low voice of his. It did all sorts of things to you, the masculine tenor of it. It reverberated through your body, and you pressed your thighs together in hopes of finding some relief. 

You could feel the cream in your panties. It happened more often than not around Ace. 

Ace thumbed the tip of his cock, spreading the pre cum around. 

“Easy, tiger,” you said with a smile. “That’s my job.” 

He groaned at the sound of your nickname for him, and then he groaned again when you took his cock out of his hand and held it in both of yours. It looked so much bigger when you held it, seemed so much heavier. And yet, he felt lighter, knowing full well you’d take his full load in your mouth- or on your tits- and relieve all that tension he’d been carrying around with him. 

“That’s it,” he said. He gathered your hair in his hands to keep it out of your face as you leaned in to kiss the tip. When you licked and sucked, he went crazy, but it was your kisses on his throbbing cock and balls that made him feel special- important, even. His chest swelled as you kissed down his length. “That’s a good girl.” 

“I swear it’s harder than usual,” you said against him. “I can tell how much you need it.” 

“I really do need it,” he agreed. 

“I’ve got you, tiger.” You placed sweet kisses on his heavy balls. 

Ace groaned again. He couldn’t help but push his hips forward, earning a giggle from your lips before they closed around his balls. He tightened his grip on your hair. 

You sucked lightly, well aware how sensitive he was. After a few seconds, you released them with a loud pop. You gave them a few more sweet licks, and Ace moaned.  

Suddenly, there was a knock at the door. 

“It’s me,” came Thatch’s voice. “I need you on deck.” 

“I’m busy, Thatch.” Ace looked back over his shoulder and stared daggers at the door, but his expression quickly morphed into one of relief and pleasure when you dragged your tongue up his shaft and took the head of his cock into your warm mouth. It was all he could do to keep from moaning your name. 

“Actually, I need y/n for something. And don’t bother claiming she’s not in there. I could hear you moaning all the way down the hall.” 

You sat back on your heels and wiped your lips. “I’m coming, Thatch.” 

“Be quick about it.” With that, his footsteps faded. 

You pouted up at Ace and picked your shirt up off the floor. “Sorry, tiger.” 

Ace groaned, this time from frustration rather than pleasure. His mind was hazy, and he could barely string together a coherent thought. 

“What could they possibly need you for?” 

“I’m sure it’ll be quick,” you said, rising to your feet and stepping into your shorts. You buttoned and zipped them before standing up on your toes to press a lingering kiss to Ace’s lips. “I won’t be long.” 

“You better not be.” He palmed his cock, but it brought him little relief. “I need you for something too, y/n.” 

———

Hope you enjoyed it! You can read Part 2 here! And if you want more content, you can check out my masterlist here!

[cyborg-franky]

How they walk by your side

Hand in hand. Ace, Marco, Sanji, Usopp, Franky, Penguin Hand in hand but swaying your hand as you walk. Usopp, Luffy, Killer, Perona, Corazon

Linking arms. Thatch, Marco, Sanji, Franky, Brook, Killer, Shanks, Sabo

Pinky fingers linked. Sanji, Usopp, Nami, Perona, Shachi Arm around your back. Ace, Sanji, Franky, Law, Shanks, Corazon

Arms wrapped around you so it's impossible for you to walk. Luffy, Shachi, Sabo, Corazon

Hand in your pocket. Thatch, Sanji, Kid, Buggy, Penguin

No contact but it still feels warm, thats just how they are. Deuce, Izou, Zoro, Jinbei, Law, Kid, Kuro, Zeff, Crocodile [hires someone to hold your hand] Everything all at once, so many hands. Robin

Puts his hand in your pocket even when he's not there. Buggy

[portgasdbru]

whitebeard pirates groupchat

wb pirates (ace, izo, marco, thatch) x reader

cw: funny/crack, drug mention

[coveofsecrets]

“𝙷𝚒𝚍𝚍𝚎𝚗 𝙱𝚎𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝙻𝚒𝚙𝚜”

-> Platonic! Yandere! Whitebeard Pirates x reader

-> Warnings: small descriptions of violence, attempted kidnap, implied reader having an abusive family, drugging (didn’t actually happen), tugging on self’s hair, possible ooc-ness since this is my first time writing for Whitebeard pirates

-> Word Count: 4.5k words

-> This was HEAVILY inspired by @rollinouttahere-writes’s vampire Ace au!!! Most of the ideas/hcs(?) here is from them. I just felt really inspired from their au, so I wanted to write this!!! If anything seems historically inaccurate, please let me know! Also, even if it says Whitebeard Pirates, it’s… mainly just. Thatch. I love him too much <3.

─── ✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰*.:｡✧*.｡:｡*.｡✱ ───

"Eat up."

A bowl is held out to you; one full of thick liquid and solid things, contents sloshing inside of the container as it’s moved towards you.

"I haven't cooked human food in a long time, but I largely remember how to make it, so it shouldn't be too bad."

The person holding the bowl of soup gestures in your way, silently asking you to take it.

Honestly, it doesn't look bad.

In fact, it looks delicious.

Filling, too.

An orange color, bits and pieces of meat and vegetables peeking through the liquid, soup bubbling due to the soup’s warmth…

Your stomach rumbles.

The one across from you tilts his head, lips pulling into a fang-bared smirk as his black eyes raise in knowing mirth.

Despite the aching in your midsection, you look away from the man, pushing the soup away from yourself- a bit too rough, with how some of it has spilled out.

"No thanks," You grit out, poorly concealing your distaste for the vampire. "I… have rations in my bag."

A laugh is all that comes as a response, the soup pushed towards you to the point it invades your vision.

"Not to be rude, but your bag looks near to empty," He points out, "Whatever you've got in there won't last you to the next town."

He's right.

He's right and you know it.

He's right, you know it, and you know that he knows.

The only things being a half-eaten apple and a reusable water bottle in your traveling bag, it doesn’t take a genius to guess there’s not much in there.

...you wanna rip your hair out.

A scowl making its way onto your face, you practically bare your teeth at the one before you.

"So? I have no reason to accept food from you, Thatch. For all I know, this shit could be drugged! Hell, I wouldn’t even be surprised, because all you’ve ever done for me is make my life more difficult than it needs to be!”

Well, Thatch is not the main aspect of your headache.

Rather, he's a part of that problem.

A ginormous, powerful, and vampiric problem.

To frame what’s been going on, it all started a long time ago (a year), in a run-down establishment you managed to find for temporary shelter (a gas station off to the side of the street), where you met a man who had the look of a person with nobody to call his own family (he seemed lonely), standing in wait to sacrifice a part of what was to his name (he was waiting for the customer in front of him to stop arguing with the cashier).

Since you also needed to sacrifice a part of your dignity, you were behind him.

Thus, with the two of you bored, interaction sprouted- quite beautifully, in fact. A stem of a topic took place, leaves of conversation forming, and flowers of bonds blooming.

It was nice.

Ace, as he called himself, was nice.

Being one of the first people you talked to after moving out, that guy was... pretty cool.

A warm fire, heating up your palms and sending its head across your body, letting you find comfort from the stormy winters outside.

Until the fire turned hot, scathing, forcing you to pull your hands back before the skin burned off from the muscle.

"Thirteen?" Ace echoes, "That's a young age to be traveling. Do your parents know about this?"

To that, you stiffen, and the man seems to piece together a bit of your situation, moving on from his question.

“You don’t have to answer that, but… going exploring at a young age probably isn't good for you. Lots of people would love to hurt a young thing like you.”

You sigh, "I know, I know… but, I just… can’t necessarily find anybody to travel with? I mean-” A laugh is forced out of your throat. “I don’t think any other thirteen-year-olds are exploring the world. Plus, l've been fine so far, haven't l? I'm in one piece."

Ace's eyebrows furrow. "Haven’t you been only going around for a month? That's too little time to make any sort of assumption. I'm not saying you should go back to your parents, though.”

Oh.

You feel your shoulders droop.

Well that's nice to hear.

“Then what are you saying?”

“I’m saying that it’s best to stick with a group, for now.” He reaches a hand up, rubbing at the back of his neck. “And assuming you don’t exactly have anybody to travel with, how about traveling with me for a bit? I’ll introduce you to this group I’m with. They’re pretty groovy, been with them for a few decades-”

Decades? This guy doesn't look a day over nineteen.

"-and they’re absolutely wonderful.” As he speaks about his buddies, you notice how Ace’s tone has gotten softer- warm, like the sun retreating into the mountains to offer the people underneath it respite from its fiery wrath. “We’re like a family, always taking care of each other and making sure we’re not too reckless. Pops makes sure it’s that way.”

Pops???

"If you stay with them, you'll be safe. I'm sure they'll treat you nicely. Whaddya say?”

Expectantly, Ace looks at you, a kind smile on his face as he waits for your answer.

The only thing you can answer with is silence, as you ponder his proposal.

The Whitebeard Vampires…?

Vampires??

You've heard about certain groups that go around.

Traveling groups, to be more specific.

Some are wannabe hippies who only do drugs and preach about love and acceptance as a joke, others are dangerous gangs that hurt defenseless people in order to fulfill whatever sick desires they have.

The Whitebeard Vampires, though…

You can vaguely remember hearing about them every now and then; small whispers among townspeople, newspapers bored (usually old) individuals read, and WANTED signs brought up on TV.

So really, all you know about them is that they’re popular, and also illegal- any other information is now up to you to imply.

Vampires... mythical bloodsuckers, right? I don't exactly know what the 'Whitebeard' stands for, but ‘vampire' could imply something more sinister, like blood…

All of a sudden, the smile on Ace's face doesn't look friendly anymore.

No longer the setting sun, it is now the star that rises from the mountains, preparing to enact scathing hot violence for the denizens of its green empire.

Yeah, no. I'm not taking any chances.

Hesitantly, you smile.

"I, uh, appreciate the offer, but I'm good!" Is your answer.

Your newly made acquaintance’s face falls.

You feel as if a mistake has been made.

Before you could remedy the situation, though, Ace is quick to speak.

“Listen,” Your name is huffed out. “I don’t think it’s a good idea to keep on travelling alone. Being absolutely straightforward with you, I’m worried. I mean, any sensible person would be. Imagine seeing some eight year old out by themself- you’d be worried, wouldn’t you?”

“I guess, yeah, but I’m not eight?”

Why is he insisting after I said ‘no’?

Ace sighs, “You’re right. You’re not eight, but to me, somebody who’s a lot older than you, you seem that way- and seeing you all alone, it’s worrying. Staying with the Whitebeard Vampires is the best choice for you; you haven’t been travelling for long, and you’re likely unaware of the dangers out there. You could get kidnapped, or maybe worse. You’re lucky to have been safe so far, but who knows what could happen later? Hell, right when you leave the store?”

This is uncomfortable.

Deciding that turning him down politely won’t work anymore, you decide to be firm in your response.

“Listen, I really do appreciate the offer, but I’m fine. Plus, as much as it was fun talking to you, I barely know you, so why would I join some group I don’t even know about?” As you speak, the previous calm you felt is erased, stress taking over once more.. “You’re making me uncomfortable, and I’d appreciate it if you’d stop.”

The older one’s mouth snaps shut.

For a moment, you feel relieved, but it’s soon burnt away when his expression turns steely, lips spreading into a thin line and eyes narrowing in a way that seems like he’s thinking of something you won’t like.

Before he could say anything, though, the customer in front of him finally, finally stops arguing with the cashier; he’s next in line to come up, and he turns back to the cashier, leaving you relieved that was the end of that.

Alas, God is real and he hates you.

Not even five seconds of stepping out of the store pass when your wrist is snatched and, all of a sudden, you’re being yanked across the street.

Wha-?!

The lights of the gas station blur by you, and you can barely see who is dragging you along in the dead of night.

You’re in an unfamiliar place, with nowhere to go home to, and you don’t even know who has you in such a tight grip.

You don’t know anything.

All these unknown variables, uncertainty in this very situation, unknown whether you’ll live or not, what might happen if you live, what might not happen if you die…

What’s going on-!

Your heart is seized by the cold hand of fear, and you’re not able to even think as a scream rips itself from your throat-

“STOP!”

You plant your feet firmly into the ground, trying to take your hand back from the thief.

Who is-?!

Your thoughts, an intelligible mess of screeching banshees, can’t do anything for you.

They can only drown in the sea of variables, flailing around to grab onto something, only for your thought’s oxygen supply to run out, running on the little rationality it has left.

All you can rely on is your body, activating your flight or flight, forcing your veins to feel as if they are pulsing. They beat and thrum against your skin; begging, pleading with you to escape the muscles that trap them and flee.

Flee, far away from the threat.

Flee, far away from the man who’s kidnapping you.

Flee, far away from…

“Don’t panic, I’m not gonna hurt you. I’ll just take you to see the Whitebeard Vampires, and you’ll see for yourself that it’s okay!”

The voice makes its way into your mind, a clear bell within the roar of screams in your head.

Recognizable, known, recent.

Ace?

His tone, calm and encouraging, does nothing to ease the fear running across your spine- in fact, his tranquility is only making everything worse.

I was right about my bad feeling!

The grasp on your heart only becomes tighter, stomach dropping to the pits of your midsection, vision becoming blurry with the terror you’re supposed to feel.

Uncaring of anybody who might turn to see the spectacle playing in this gas station, a sob escapes your lips.

“No, no, no! I don’t wanna!” You almost shriek, “I don’t wanna see your crew, I don’t wanna! Let me go- LET ME GO!”

Another fruitless yank from your side, another fruitful tug from the other side; you’re almost sent stumbling, having to catch yourself before face planting.

Ace, his voice a bit more rough now, continues to speak against your fright. “It’ll be okay, really! Cmon, just give it a- chance-!”

With a grunt, he tugs on your arm again, and you can’t do anything but follow.

“It’s for your own good,” Your name is said through a bite, “I’ve got food inside, so you’re not gonna go hungry!”

What the hell is he saying-?!

“Does that matter?!” You cry, “Let go, let me go-! I don’t wanna go-!”

Before you could prepare to tug at his arm again, somebody shoves the two of you apart- an old man, you think, coming to your rescue.

He turns, yelling at Ace; the words are unknown to you, as you took the opportunity to escape.

Ever since then, you’ve met all sorts of people from that gang of his.

A samurai looking as if he’s from the Edo period, a doctor dressed as if he time traveled from the Black Plague, and a swordsman seeming like he was there when the British colonized India.

Without fail, when they found you- whether by individuals or them in a group- they have tried to recruit you into the same group Ace is in.

Threatening, coaxing, or storytelling; many tactics were implemented to try and take you in as one of them. The storytelling almost worked on you once.

Grand adventures the Whitebeard Pirates go on; exploring land nobody dared set foot on before, collecting treasure that shines brighter than all of the stars in the sky, and experiencing freedom unbound by any rules or regulations…

If it weren’t for the fact that they seemed like a dangerous bunch, you would’ve joined.

And, also, if they weren’t vampires.

…yep.

Apparently, the name Whitebeard Vampires was meant to be literal.

Whitebeard for the name of their leader, and Vampires for the fact that everybody in that crew is a one of those bloodsuckers.

You learned it from that fancy, British-looking guy a few months back… what was his name again? Vest? You don’t really remember. All you could focus on was the revelation that the mythical beasts you’d wet the bed over as a child were real.

Snapped out of reminiscence, Thatch’s voice brings you back to reality.

“Listen kid, I know that our methods may seem…” The vampire pauses. “Unorthodox, but it comes from a place of concern.” His tone is, for a creature such as him, surprisingly soft.

Almost fatherly.

It… it almost reminds you of, when you were young, how your dad would crouch down to be eye-level with you, gently explaining why you should or shouldn’t do something.

“All we know is that you refuse to go to your home, and we’re not going to question it, but we want to see a kid like you safe and happy.”

…you feel small.

“You don’t know anything about me. You don’t know if I’m happy out here.”

A pathetic defense from you, but Thatch takes it as a real one.

“You’re right, we don’t. All we know is that you’re some kid who’s sticking it out on their own. You could be happy, but my crewmates have noticed how they see you suffering, whenever they find you. Throwing up, blood on your face, or a bone broken… isn’t that reason enough to be worried?”

In front of you, fire crackles, shadows flickering across his face.

Through that dancing, one expression remains clear:

Worry.

“We’re not trying to harm you, kid. We’re just trying to help. I’m just trying to help, especially now. I mean-” A small chuckle, “I don’t think you’re going to make it far with that injury of yours.”

It doesn’t take a genius to guess he’s talking about the nasty gash on your leg, caused by the chance encounter with a humanoid wolf thing.

You bring your leg close to you; a pathetic attempt to hide your injury. “shut up,” you mumble, “I can make it just fine.”

The cook raises a nonexistent eyebrow. “Really?” He leans forward. “Just a few minutes ago, didn’t you collapse when trying to stand?”

To that, you say nothing, letting silence occupy the both of you for a bit.

Soon, Thatch sighs, “Listen, just… take the food, kid. We’re not trying to harm you.”

“How am I supposed to know?”

You feel so, so small.

The man speaking gently towards you, stern yet kind, can’t help but make you feel as if you’re a child learning how to regulate your emotions for the first time.

You hate it.

You hate it so much.

Who does he think he is, treating you like some sort of kid? Some sort of- of- dependent, needing an adult to hold their hand and keep them safe from all the dangers of the world!

You’re not like that.

You’re far from that!

You’re independent, you’re strong; hell, you’re not home right now because of your strength!

So who does he, the man who’s been making everything miserable for you, think he is, huh?!

“Ever since I’ve started travelling…” Your voice, a low growl, soon rises to a yell. “You lot have been nothing but trouble for me! First, I have to deal with randoms trying to kidnap and sell me for profit, then constant injuries ‘cause of falling down and breaking something, and now, I have to deal with you lot?! For the past year, everywhere I go, you guys are always there! All I wanted-” a rough wheeze, “All that I wanted was just to get away from my parents, but you just have to fuck everything up!”

You’re not sure why you’re being so emotional right now.

Maybe it’s due to the throbbing in your leg that’s travelling all the way to your head, or the stress of the trip that’s only built up from its starting point.

Either way, you’ve opened your lips, and now, Pandora’s Box can’t be closed.

“I hate it- I hate it all! I hate how you’ve made everything worse- I hate you! I hate you and your stupid crew, and I’d wish you all would go die!”

If you were in less of an emotional state, you would’ve noticed that the forest has gone quiet due to your volume.

“Out of the frying pan, and into the fucking sun, I guess! First I had to deal with parents who won't respect my basic rights, and now I have to deal with vampires who want to suck my blood?!”

Like a pressure cooker that’s exploding, you continue to yell at Thatch, uncaring of any consequences that might follow.

He deserves it, after all- he and his stupid crew deserves it, for making your life a living hell!

“I thought I’d be happy, y’know! I thought- I thought that after getting kicked out-”

The event is fresh in your mind.

Painfully vivid, you can remember being in the house you’ve grown up in, with your parents in the living room you’re so used to; you all were screaming at one another, throwing things, calling each other names, and exchanging fists until you were thrown out, told to never show your face here again.

No matter how long it’s been, the memory still hurts when you think about it.

Like the tears in your eyes, it still stings.

“-that I’d be fine, that- that I could stick it out. But now… now, I have to deal with everything that wants to kill me!”

At this point, you’re screaming at the vampire.

The horrible vampire, who says nothing as you break down in front of him- who looks at you with such warmth, eyes full of kindness for the screaming teenager in front of him.

The evil creature, who’s lips upturned are nothing if not compassionate, treating your problems as if they are real.

The monstrous thing, whose expression reminds you of your mother’s.

“Not just your stupid crew,”

You violently jab a finger in Thatch’s direction.

“But everything! Faeries, centaurs, and other people, too!”

A sharp pain comes into your scalp.

You’re tugging on your hair.

“I thought- I don’t- I don’t know what I was thinking!”

What am I even saying?

What’s coming out of your mouth, is now indecipherable to your ears.

Covered up and muffled by the heavy weight of your stress, brain muddled by all of it coming to crash down on you all at once, you don’t know what you want to say.

All you do know is that you want to scream.

So you do it.

You scream, cry, and wail at him with all of your might, screeching your grievances towards the monster that dares sit by you, as if he’s your friend!

As if he deserves to act like somebody that has your best intentions in mind, when in reality, all he wants to do suck your blood and then throw your corpse out to the rest of the mythical beasts that exist, letting them rip your remains apart.

He’s no different than those other monsters.

He’s no different than the faeries that try to steal your life, no different than the centaurs that want to make you a flattened mess of broken bones and burst organs, and certainly not any different than the rest of his kind that wants to drain you of your blood.

He’s no different.

So you throw everything you have at him.

You throw all of your insults, your trauma, your stress onto him.

Maybe it’s to make him understand what you’ve been through because of him so that he and his crew stop harassing you.

Maybe it’s because you need somebody to listen to your woes, to hear you out on all that’s been harming you since you’ve started to travel.

You don’t know.

All you know is that by the end of your fit, you’re a mess.

A weak, exhausted, vulnerable mess, able to be toyed with by the demon in disguise.

Yet, to your surprise, nothing happens to you.

Nobody roughly grabs you, hurts you, or even so much as laughs at you.

The only thing that happens is that the smell of soup wafts over to your nose, making an excess of saliva build up in your mouth.

“Seriously?”

Your voice stuffy as you speak, you lift your head up; Thatch is sitting next to you, the bowl of soup held closer.

To answer, the vampire warmly- gently, like a cool rain of shower dabbing your skin- smiles at you.

“That breakdown of yours probably took a lot out of you. It’s good to regain your energy.”

…you hate how much he reminds you of his parents.

Before everything went bad, at least.

When your dad would give you those carefree, easy grins, hoisting you over his shoulders to let you see over seas of people; your mother right next to him, laughing with your amazement of the scenery before you.

You miss them.

You miss them a lot.

Even if it was, in a sense, your own choice and fault you got kicked out, you can’t help but want to go back to your old house.

To experience what was already experienced, to feel the warmth you’ve felt before, and most importantly…

To be loved, like you were once before.

What’s done is done, though, and the actions you’ve taken have led you to your predicament.

Stuck with a vampire, who probably drugged your food so he can kidnap you and suck your blood later.

But…

…For these past few hours, he’s been nothing but kind.

At any moment in time, he could’ve just killed you- snapped your neck and drained you of your blood- with your bad leg and exhausted state, you wouldn’t even be able to run.

Thatch didn’t do any of that.

Throughout your tirade, he smiled kindly at you as he listened, not interrupting once, even when you slandered he and his crew.

Hell, he even made you food.

The vampire, who can’t taste human food, decided to make something edible for you.

He’s from the same crew as all those other vampires, but… maybe you should give him a chance?

Maybe.

Possibly.

…

A quick ‘screw off’ flying off your mouth, you snatch the food from Thatch, contents inside shaking with your hands.

Hopefully it doesn’t take like shit.

He did say he hasn’t cooked this kind of thing in a while…

Hesitation grabbing hold of your phalanges, you have to force yourself to move past it, lifting the wooden bowl up to your lips so the liquid can shyly touch your lips.

…huh.

The broth dances over your tongue, blessing its taste buds with the faint taste of chicken as slides down your throat, soothing the strained muscle with a sweet lullaby, your belly warming up from the gentle fire it carries-

…huh!

This is… this is one of the best meals you’ve ever had!

Mm!

And without a second thought, you scarf the thing down.

Practically chugging the dish, you allow the chicken to go down with little chewing, the other fruits (tomato? Lettuce??) adding a lovely harmony to the lullaby.

Oh, how delicious!

Truly, this is wonderful cooking; cooking that should be brought to the best chefs in the world and praised for its superior taste.

Off to the side, you hear the cook laugh, a ‘slow down, you’re gonna choke!’ leaving him.

You find yourself caring less about his warning.

All you can care about is this dish from the Gods, granting a blessing of survival and flavor to you, allowing you to live and enjoy what you’re eating.

Whatever god out there exists, thank you.

Within too short of a timeframe, you finish your soup. Your stomach is filled and pleasantly warm, your body once again able to produce energy for you.

Yet, all that energy is transferred to the action of closing your eyes, exhaustion washing over your body.

That breakdown you had must’ve taken a lot out of you…

“How was it?”

A hand wraps around your shoulders, and you’re pulled close to Thatch, the person’s chest used as a support pillar for you.

You hum, “It was good…” hands coming up to try and push against him, not appreciating the close contact. “Really good.”

…you can’t… push away.

You’re too weak.

Within the swamp of your mind, something sharp pricks into the mud.

You could be too tired to push away, but… it’s odd.

You have nothing to fight with.

No energy.

None.

The pricking turns into a full-on stab, creating a hole within your consciousness.

I have no energy.

“Why am…”

The words die on your tongue, syllables too heavy to force through your teeth.

Oh no.

This isn’t normal.

The lack of energy isn’t normal.

The way you can barely speak isn’t normal.

The way everything around you has become blurry, Thatch’s face nothing more than a mesh of colors, isn’t normal.

He did something.

He did something.

He did something to your food-

You feel yourself shift, the white coat of the cook all you can see.

He-!

Your teeth grit. “You…!”

“Shh…” Thatch interrupts, “Don’t worry, don’t worry. I’m not… hurt y… didn… ythi…”

What the hell…?

Whatever he’s saying is gibberish from the sea floor of your hearing; all the while black dots slowly accumulate your vision, brain begging to leave the cage of your skull-

No-!

No matter how much you fight, you fall unconscious, pliant to whatever Thatch plans for you.

-

“Damn…”

Looking down at your form, Thatch winces.

“You’ve really been through it.”

Sunken eyes, broken leg, permanently-knitted eyebrows…

How did you manage to live this long?

The cook hums, holding you a bit tighter against himself.

Facing so much danger, all on your own… he didn’t even need to drug your food. You just- fell asleep after eating his untouched cooking, because you were that tired.

And starving, possibly.

…god. He hates that thought.

Though, he supposes that doesn’t matter now.

From now on, you’ll be safe in Pops’ care.

Never again, will you have to think if you’ll have only a singular meal today.

Never again, will you have to worry about whether or not you’ll survive the next day.

Never again, will you have to recover alone from the mortal danger you faced yesterday.

Not as long as you’re with Pops.

[stillxnunpxidintern]

Ace: I'm so happy, I could kiss you! Marco: Um...Neat. *later* Marco, lying face down on his bed: I said "Neat," Thatch. Who the fuck says neat these days? It's not neat to say neat but I said it anyways because I'm fucking stupid. Thatch, reading a book: Don't beat yourself up too much, Marco. Everyone gets nervous sometimes. Remember what I did when Reader confessed their love for me? Marco: Didn't you thank them? Thatch: *closes the book and looks at the ceiling* I fucking thanked them.

(Some crack in the form incorrect quotes.)

[alexa-yukiyu]

Hi, could I ask for whitebeard pirates with a female reader that’s kind of like Yor Forger from Spy x Family? Socially awkward and aloof, has poor cooking skills(Poor Thatch having to not throw up to hurt reader’s feelings) but is super strong and polite!!

Little Brothers Beware (Whitebeard pirates x sister! reader)

A/N It's been a but since I saw spy x family so l may be rusty, I know it's not exactly her characterization but similar and hopefully close enough for you!

Reader here is Replaced by Dokucha which stands for Reader in japanese

Dividers by @/drinkthesky and @/firefly-graphics

"I messed it up again, didn't I?" Dokucha sniffled, watching Thatch's face grow more more sickly as he try to down the food.

"Good Job, Thatch. You made our sister cry," Izou drawled, watching the scene before him leaning into the dining table and against his closed fist and a slight smile on his face as he watched the scene unfold.

"How despicable of you," Haruta snickered

"Quit with the yappin’, you idiots!" he sneered, glaring at his brothers.

"Ah, Dokucha, don't cry. It wasn’ that bad, it just had too much spieces," he fusses, turning to her

"It's okay. We both know I am no good in the kitchen," she sighed.

"Or the med bay," Marco called as he walked behind them.

"Or the med bay..." she mutters

"I'm sorry I have failed you as a sister!" she cried, hugging him.

"Look at you, Thatch, making a lady cry again," laughed Izou next to him with a similar mischievous grin.

"Hush ya gettin’ on my last nerve," he growls, snapping his head to them only to turn it right back at the sobs of his sister.

"You could never fail me, Dokucha; yer the best sister I could ever ask for!" He exclaims, rubbing her back in a reassuring manner

"You mean it?"

"He's a liar, Dokucha," Calls Izou

"You're lying to me?" Dokucha questioned, looking up at Thatch, a tremble on her lips

"N-No course not, they are just spouting nonsense."

"That's not what you said with her last dis-.

"Hey, Dokucha, did they ever tell you about the time Izou and Haruta went at it?" Thatch spoke promptly, cutting him off watching with a satisfied grin as her sobs stop at the news

"You were fighting?" she growled as she turned around slowly, glaring at the two commanders, who had wiped their smiles from their faces as they shook their heads

"Of Course not, Big sis; we were only training right Izou?" Haruta called nervously at the haunting glare the woman was sending the pair

"Yes, we were to be sent to an important mission, so we figured some training before leaving would do us good."

Thatch threw them a grin as he leaned over Dokucha's ear, whispering in her ear loud enough for the two to hear.

"Ahh heard they were callin’ each other quite colorful names, and that Marco had too patch up a couple injuries," he spoke with a smirk as he glanced at them.

"You know what? I believe that was Haruta; he was quite angry that morning," Izou commented.

"You traitor!" Haruta hissed

"Haruta..." Dokucha growled, glaring at the man

"Y-yes?"

"How many times have I told you not to fight with your brothers?" she snarled, slowly approaching the man who by now had shot out of the stool he sat on in favor of backing away from her.

"Come on, dokucha, it was just playful banter."

"Banter was it? I guess if you have enough energy to fight with your brothers, then you have energy for a training session with me."

"That's really not necessary."

"I insist, little brother," She chirps, throwing a dark grin his way as she drags Haruta off to the training ground.

"I'll get you assholes back for this!" He screamed back to the snickering men on the kitchen

"Oh-ho, you really do have energy. I'm sure you can do an extra long session then!"

"Wait, no, sis, I didn't mean that!" he wails.

Marco sighed, shaking his head as he drank his tea, looking at the other two disapprovingly.

"She is going to find out, you know; once she finds out you tricked her, she will be furious."

"Oh, come on, Marco, she won't know,I I won't say anything, will you, Izou?" Thatch spoke, glancing at the sniper

"If you remain quiet about me, I will remain quiet about you," he confirmed as they both turned to Marco.

"Leave me out of this," he grumbled, walking out.

"We got dirt on ya too, you know!" Thatch calls with a grin

"Oh? Do remind me, who does your checkups and heals you when you fight amongst each other behind her back or go into dangerous missions, and who keeps silent when you fall ill and don't tell her?" He drawled with a grin hidden behind his cup as he continued walking

"Maybe, let's include Marco in tha silent treaty," Thatch Mutters.

"Agreed"

I just realize it's been a week 🙊 oops? Im also surprised myself I din’t include ace, but ya know the other commanders need some loving too

Taglist:

@Imaginarydreams

@amethystviolin

@h0n3y-l3m0n05

[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.

[shankss-magnificent-ass]

Imagine unjinxing the Whitebeard pirates

Marco: *comes out of his office* finally, I finished all of my paperwork. *Holds out the last file folder*

Thatch: it's about time, you've been in there for days.

Izou: I was wondering if we'd ever see you again.

Marco: it felt like I was gonna be in there forever, I swear if Big Mom attacks us ever again I'll kill her myself, pop's be damned.

Ace: yeah, but it could be worse though. Thankfully it's quiet tonight, so I doubt anything'll happen

Marco, Izou, and Thatch: *give him a look of horror*

Ace: what?

Izou: you just did not say that!

Ace: say what?

Thatch: you basically just jinxed us!

You: *comes out when you hear them yelling* what happened?

Izou: he just said the q word

You: oof

Ace: I'm sorry, I take it back, alright.

Marco: sorry, doesn't unjinx us *points the file folder in his hand towards Whitebeard's lodgings, holding it there only a hair away from your face.* Go tell Pops and the rest of the crew to remain vigilant and careful because things may go tits up soon because of your stupidity

You: *about to be so fucking funny*

Ace: alright, find.

Marco: and don't use the q word when explaining.

You: *takes a bite out of his file and spits the pieces into his hand*

Marco: (⁠ノ⁠｀⁠Д⁠´⁠)⁠ノ⁠彡⁠┻⁠━⁠┻ Fuck! *Storms back into his office and slams the door*

Izou: why are you like this?

You: hmm, it's probably because of the childhood neglect.

Thatch: *wheezing and laughing*

Izou: why'd you do it?

You: to negate the jinx

Izou: and you made Marco bear the brunt of it, you bad person.

You: he could just tape them back together.

Thatch: but we all know he won't do that, so now he has to refill out the report.

You: ╮⁠(⁠.⁠ ⁠❛⁠ ⁠ᴗ⁠ ⁠❛⁠.⁠)⁠╭ sucks to be him then.

Izou: you bitch.

You: says the head bitch

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And Tonight, We’ll Be Warm

It is technically still the 25th where I am so have a holiday-related fic! This is just an excuse to write that obligatory Christmas fic that nobody asked for

Whitebeard Pirates x Reader (no particular pairing but very Ace-centric)

The Whitebeard Pirates never needed an excuse to party, but surprisingly, they always celebrated one specific holiday.

The sight of white flecks on the deck heralded the arrival of the Moby Dick to its destination, the cheery winter island in front of you a familiar sight. You couldn’t see it at this distance, but you had no doubt that if you asked Marco, he’d say that it was decked out in its annual holiday decoration already.

Around you, the hustle and bustle of docking preparations were in full swing, excitement filling the chilly air more than usual. Every year, on the same day and if time was willing, Pops liked to return to this specific island, deep in the heart of his territory, known for its celebration this time of year. It was done often enough that the locals left a special place for the Whitebeards and the crew always brought in supplies when they came. What would commence would be a two-day, island-wide celebration where the Whitebeards and even other friendly crews would toss aside their worries to rejoice. Though Pops’s family may have been a wide assortment of characters from all over the Blues, it was a unanimous agreement that all of you would indulge in this holiday because of how much joy it brought the old man. Though as pirates, there was never a reason needed to party.

You’d been with the crew long enough to have attended a few, the first few times never something you’d never forget. Overwhelming in the best of days, there would be lots of work done once you docked to unload the supplies and crates, but then the locals would whisk it all away and the crew would be able to release themselves upon the festivities. There would be stalls upon stalls of vendors selling indulgent foods, gifts, and knickknacks for the holidays. And—of course—the booze. It was a pirate island, after all.

A relieved cheer broke out as the Moby coasted gently to a stop, a few of those who could handle the jump vaulting over the side onto the dock, while those who remained up top tossed down the mooring line for them. You double-checked the ropes on the winches responsible for lowering the cargo and leaned over to ensure that nobody was in the way.

“Lowering the crates!” You yelled down to the people milling down below. The worn wooden crank was familiar in your work-calloused hands as you cranked it, lowering the creaking platforms of foods and ingredients down. A ‘thump’ and the lines slackening signaled the contact with the dock below you, and you left the unpacking to the ground crew.

Beelining for the rope ladder, you scaled down it to join the others, an eager grin pulling at your cheeks. Wagons waited for their loads, but you left that to those like Fossa and Blenheim, the likes of them able to move much more efficiently when they had no smaller crewmates running underfoot. Your eyes darted across the space, seeking one specific person. For once, a majority of the crew had a shirt and jacket on, only the hardiest of them forgoing it, so it was easy for you to find that tattoo stretched across a tanned back.

“Ace!”

The young man spun around, seeking the call of his name. You started toward him, waving to attract his attention. He returned your grin easily as the two of you met up. Close to him, you couldn't help but let out a sigh of relief. Despite your layers, it was still bitingly cold with the snow fluttering down. But with Ace nearby, his heater tendencies, courtesy of his Fruit, were a warm balm against the low temperatures.

“You were right, this does look fun!” Ace said, hands on his hips as he regarded the festivities beyond the dock. I’m glad I’ll have someone to lead me around.”

“Hm.” You rubbed your hands, fingertips red. “I’ll show you all the good places to hit up. Ignore what Commander Marco says. He’s a geezer who’s got outdated tastes.”

“Does he now, yoi?”

You stiffened, spine prickling with unease as footsteps came close. The warmth of the other flame-related Devil Fruit user on your back betrayed his approach. You shot Ace a nervous smile, grabbing his shoulders and swinging behind him to escape the fingers that skimmed the collar of your jacket. Grabbing the black-haired man’s hand, you readied to bolt but flailed when he didn’t move.

“C’mon! We gotta run!”

Ace glanced back at you, shrugging helplessly, still gripping your hand.

“You should know better,” Marco tsked as he stopped in front of Ace (and you, who ensured you were soundly on the opposite side of Ace from him). He crossed his arms, a lazy smile twitching into something mischievous. “We have to wait for Pops, yoi.”

As if that mention summoned him, the ground trembled with the impact of your captain landing down from his leap off the ship. He did a sweeping glance over his nakama, still milling about the dock as they waited for his arrival, and unleashed his booming laughter. “What are you all waiting for? Go have fun, my children!”

Noise erupted over the dock, and you suddenly found Ace very agreeable as you ran away from Marco. The two of you darted into the crowd, away from the blonde.

“Go! Go! GO!” You yelled as Ace swept you onto his back, laughing as he bolted. You wrapped an arm around his neck to keep balance, while the other one pointed in front of him to where you wanted him to go. Rakuyo jumped out of the way just in time to avoid being plowed over, and Atmos bellowed in laughter when Ace ducked under his arm, revealing you clinging to his back.

Despite you acting as a backpack for him, Ace was barely winded when you finally told him to stop. He regarded the street around you with wide eyes as you slid off him, dusting your clothes. “Where to know?”

You pointed to a little stall that had a small metal stove by its side. “First order of business: Drinks!”

The little old lady there waved as you approached, a smile of familiarity greeting you. “Welcome back, dearie. I see you’ve brought a friend!”

Nodding, you stepped aside to showcase the now-shy ravenette to her. “Hi again Miss Rose. This is Ace! He joined us a little while ago.”

“Showing him around, I see…” Miss Rose said

“Yep,” you said. “I gotta do it since I don’t want to put him through the history lesson that Commander Marco might’ve exposed him to. And I thought it’d be good to start everything off with drinks from your stall!”

Miss Rose tilted her head, an apologetic expression falling onto her face. “I’m sorry, dearie, but my stove just went out, you see. I sent my son off to fetch flint, but it’s going to be a while before I can get anything warm for you.”

“I can help!” Ace said, straightening up as he lifted a hand, small flames flickering to life. He, however, quickly extinguished it, and added on nervously, “I-If you want.”

The woman didn’t flinch at the small display of Ace’s powers, long-familiar with Devil Fruit displays on an island such as this, and toddled over to the stove, pulling open the door, and stepped aside for Ace. “Oh, if you could, that would be delightful.”

Caught off guard by the open friendliness, Ace glanced at you in a silent question. You bumped him forward with your shoulder. “Yeah. Miss Rose has the best cider all around, and you can’t start the festivities without getting a cup.”

Ace exhaled with a smile, sticking his hand into the open maw of the stove. With a flash of orange, the lumber within it lit up. The door was closed, and Miss Rose quickly put a pot over the top. Within moments, the warm smell of spices suffused the air and the pot’s content bubbled merrily away. Miss Rose moved with a speed that belied her age as she quickly set up two steaming cups of liquid. You barely just finished fishing out the appropriate payment before they were shoved into your grasp. Passing one to Ace, you slid the coins over to her quicker than she could react. Grabbing Ace, you led him away despite the woman’s protests refusing your payment and called back, “Thanks, Miss Rose!”

Your action prompted a curious look from him as the two of you hurried from her stand. “What was that about?”

“She’s too kind for her own good, and if I didn’t do that, she would’ve tossed my coin back at my face,” you explained. Taking a long sip, you let out a satisfied sigh at the warmth spreading through your guts and prompted Ace, “Try it.”

He took a tentative sip. Your catlike grin widened as his eyes lit up, and he went in for seconds. “Woah, this is good…”

“Mhm,” you hummed, turning to look at the busy street in front of you. You pulled the cup closer to your face to allow the steam to warm up your cold nose. “It’s good that we got here before the crew. Otherwise, we’d be fighting Kingdew for a spot in line.”

Ace didn’t reply, and you glanced over to see him staring at the colorfully lit lanterns above you that cast festive colors onto the street. You couldn’t help but smile at the sight. It was nice seeing the awe on his face, and you realized this must’ve been why Marco was chuckling at you when it was your first time on the island. 

The growl emitting from him broke you out of your reverie, and you chuckled, hefting a bag of Berry in your hands.

“Alright Ace, since it’s your first time here, you can get any food you want, my treat. But—” You held up a finger when he brightened, “Only as much as this pouch can pay, and don’t spoil your appetite for later.”

“What’s for later?” Ace asked as he began walking to the nearest food stall, something to do with skewers.

“Five, please,” you said pleasantly to the vendor. Glancing back at Ace, you said. “There’s always a big feast and bonfire set up. It’s great. You’ll love it.”

The food was given to you, and you exchanged it with the correct amount of bills, passing four of the roasted chestnut and meat sticks to Ace while you kept one to yourself. Silence stretched between you two for a few minutes as the food was savored. As you were crunching through a chunk of chestnut, you heard Ace murmur, “Lu’ would’ve liked this.”

You swallowed your bite. Aside from his explosive (literally) introduction to the crew, there were a few other things about him that he never kept quiet about, one of them being his very cherished brother. “Oh yeah? I mean, this island is known for good chestnuts year-round, so food like this is common anytime. You can bring him here when you meet him again.”

Ace polished off his second skewer, expression wistful as he murmured, “Yeah…”

“Oi, you two!”

Like twin dogs, the two of you turned to the call. Thatch waved at you, Izou by his side. The former looked a little silly, with a sprinkling of snow piling up atop his pompadour, while the latter looked immaculate in his dark-blue kimono, its woven threats gleaming when it caught the lights. Amusement lit up the two Commanders’ faces when they saw the food in Ace’s hold.

“Putting another person’s wallet to work already, I see,” Izou said with a small smirk on his painted lips.

“Well, better than the alternative,” Thatch quipped, hands on his hips. “The locals may like us, but that can change if someone decides to dine and dash.”

“Don’t worry about it,” you pipped up. “I’m treating Ace today since it’s his first time.”

“How thoughtful,” Izou said. “You would have had the same result tossing your wallet in the sea.”

“I know better! I only brought a set amount.”

“Hey!” Ace protested. “I’m not that bad, am I?”

You, Thatch, and Izou exchanged glances. A beat of silence passed.

Thatch was the first to crack, folding in half as mirth shook his body, and you had to make efforts not to spill your drink in your laughter. Even Izou cracked, one fist coming up to cover his mouth as he snorted. Ace leveled a betrayed look at you all.

“By the way,” Thatch began, once he finally reigned his laughter back in control. “Where are the two of ya headed?”

Shrugging, you motioned down the street you two were on. “Just roaming for the most part, but the goal is to the town center to show Ace the stage before going to the bonfire.

“Hm. Mind if we join y’all?”

You shrugged. “I don’t mind. Ace?”

Silence greeted you, and you whirled around to find him face down in the snow, breathing deeply. Somehow, he still held his drink and food aloft. Sighing, you sent the other men a helpless look.

“We can wait until he wakes up to see what he wants,” Izou amended. “Let’s move him to the bench over there.”

Thatch smiled, lifting a hand. “If ya can grab the food and cup, I’ll carry our resident flamethrower out of the street.”

Chugging the rest of your cider, you crouched down and carefully wormed the sticks and cup out of Ace’s hands. There was no food left, so you tossed those, but Ace’s cup was still three-quarters full and steaming, so you decided to keep that for yourself. At your go-ahead, Thatch effortlessly lifted Ace’s snoozing form, while Izou cut ahead to dust off the coating of snow from the seat. Thatch set Ace down first before sitting down, and you immediately claimed the other empty spot of the sleeping Logia-user, sighing in happiness at the warmth that bled off him.

“I’m surprised that you’re not with Commander Marco, sirs,” you admitted, moving to sip from the cider cup.

You squawked as Thatch took it from you, using his long reach to lean over Ace. He took a sip from it and hummed. “Ah, that’s good. From Miss Rose?”

Sulkily side-eyeing him, you nodded.

“And stop with the ‘Commander’ stuff. We’re off-duty, and we’re all friends anyway.”

“Well, as my friend, you should give me back my drink.”

“Is it really yours in the first place, if you took it from Ace?” Izou asked. He waved the cup away when Thatch offered it to him.

As the brown-haired man was leaning back, Ace suddenly shot forward, knocking into him. The cup flew out of Thatch’s grasp, spilling its contents onto the snow in front of you all. Izou hissed, jerked the hem of his kimono away, and shot the others a poisonous look.

“Haahhhhh? Since when did we sit down?”

“Since you decided the snow would be a good cushion for your face,” Izou replied.

“Ah dang, was I out for long?”

“No,” you said. “Thatch and Izou were wondering if they could tag along with us.”

Ace stood up, stretching his arms above his head. “I don’t see why not! As long as your offer still holds up.”

Sighing in exasperation, you stood up with a shake of your head and a smile on your face. “Fine. But if you want to explore, we gotta get going.”

Your words were a reminder of the changing sky, the days shorter in the thick of winter. The others all agreed, and once everyone gathered themselves, you all set off again. Your motley crew would’ve struck an unusual sight, with Thatch’s stature and hair, Izou’s elegant dress, and Ace completely bare-chested in the snow, but the locals of this island were long-used to it, a few folks even greeting the Commanders by name.

The festival was still as eye-catching as ever, with the soft haze of snowfall spreading a dreamy air over everything. True to his nature, Ace ended up dragging you to a few more food stalls. You four wandered with no hurry, simply basking in the peaceful, jovial air that was seldomly seen on the seas.

“I wonder how long these chestnuts can keep,” Thatch mused as he rotated a candied chestnut in his fingers. Popping it into his mouth, he passed you one from his cup. “I have plenty of recipes that’ll be nice for the colder weeks when we’re sailing.”

“I think if you can store them in the ice closet, they can last up to six months!” you chirped.

You could see his mind beginning to form ideas. “That’s plenty of time. I doubt they’ll last that long. Since it’s so cheap here, I think I’ll arrange for an order to the Moby tomorrow.”

A folded hand fan whapped Thatch on the side of the head, Izou tucking it back from wherever he summoned it from when the brown-haired man turned to him. 

“What gives, you bastard?!?”

“Stop talking about work,” Izou sniffed. “We’re here to relax and enjoy the festivities, damn you.”

Thatch leaned down into Izou’s space. “Well, you didn’t need to hit me!”

While the two senior members squabbled like little kids, you turned your attention to Ace, seeing him contemplating the roasted squid in his hands like it contained the secrets of the world.

“What’s wrong?” You said, popping your head over his shoulder. “It raw?”

Ace blinked, shaking his head and taking a big bite out of it. “Nah. Just thinkin’.”

“Don’t hurt your head over it,” you said. “Now’s a time to turn it off.”

He hummed, and you linked your arm with his and marched forward.

“Well, we’re almost at the town center. You’d like it, I think. And if you don’t, it’ll be something to distract you, yeah? No worries.”

Izou and Thatch fell in line when they saw the two of you heading off. One was fixing the collar of his kimono, while the other had a red mark on his forehead. Neither said anything when you raised a teasing eyebrow in question.

You led them down the streets until it opened up into a wide space, the large, towering pine tree in the middle marking your arrival to the town center.

Ace froze as he gawked at the monster of a tree in front of you all. “Holy shit.”

Tall enough to make even Pops look small standing next to its trunk, the ancient growth was decked out in flickering candles and carved, wooden ornaments of all colors. Bands of embroidered cloth swayed gently, depicting the winter flowers that bloomed this time of year.

“This is one of the island’s pride and joy,” You told Ace, banking on the information Marco told you during your first time. Damn, if he knew, he would never let you live this down. “It was said that this tree was already massive by the time people settled onto this island, and it was decided that they would keep it and treasure it. The festivals came later, but this tree was integrated into every celebration as well. Looks like we came just in time.”

Chattering quieted as a door hidden in the tree trunk opened. A pair of men walked forward to the platform mounted there, rolling some sort of canon in between them.

“It’s safe,” you reassured Ace as you saw him shift in nervousness. “Just watch!”

With a muffled pop, a flurry of flat, petaled shapes shot up into the air. The crowd roiled, eager hands reaching up as the large charms fluttered down. This was what you came here for. This town’s yearly charms, hand-carved from a specific type of lightweight crystal only found here. When refined down into the flowers and the snowflakes fluttering down upon you now, they caught the light in a kaleidoscope of rainbows. They were beautiful.

And very desired.

“Quickly,” you hissed, pushing Ace forward. “Try and grab one! They say that whoever got one will have good luck for the upcoming year.”

Unsure, the man reached out, only to have it snatched in front of his fingertips. The old lady who took it from him gave him a sharp glare and toddled off.

A spark of competitiveness lit up in Ace’s eyes. “Oh, that does it.”

The two of you shared a look of determination, exchanging a nod before delving into the crowd.

“Over here, Ace!”

“Too far!”

“Watch out for that lady!”

Your teamwork fell in line seamlessly, the months together on the seas and all the training and fighting giving you and Ace a leg up. Though it always seemed like there were five people trying for every one charm. Eventually, there was nothing left in reach, but you spotted one still fluttering above the crowd. You were not the only one, as you locked eyes with a burly man who was bullying his way through the crowd toward it. The two of you scowled at each other, and you stuck out your tongue at him.

Looking back at it again, you saw that it was out of reach for even the tallest folks.

But not too tall for what you had in mind.

Spinning around, you pointed at the crystal and yelled out, “Ace!”

The man turned around to spot it, and you quickly took a knee, putting your cupped hands low to the ground. A move that you’d done once or twice before.

“Go for it!” You yelled, hiding a wince when an elbow dug into your back.

Ace stepped back, lining himself up before running towards you. His boot landed in your palms, and you pushed yourself upward, propelling him up with you as he jumped. You turned around to see his trajectory, a wild grin on your face. Ace had a similar expression, one hand on his hat while the other was outstretched as he approached the snowflake. With bated breath, you watched as his fingers grazed the edges of the charm, seemingly missing it before, with a burst of flames from his legs, he propelled himself up a bit and the charm landed in his grasp. With the prize secured, he brought it to his chest and pivoted in the air, landing at an empty spot with a perfectly tucked roll.

You let out a whoop, throwing your arms up in victory, before moving your way through the crowd to where Ace landed. Your cheeks ached not just from the cold, but also from the size of the grin overtaking you sported. Spotting Ace, you hauled him up and pulled him into a hug, your laughter ringing out in the air.

“You got it!”

His cheeks were flushed as well when you pulled back, a pearly smile on his face. “Yeah.”

The crowd’s excitement was dying down and a part of you dropped in dismay over the fact that you’d missed your chance to grab something, too busy making sure Ace had his moment to focus on your own. But you were at least glad that Ace managed to get one of the charms of his own, so you shoved down that bit of sadness.

“What shape did you get?” You asked. “Can I see?” 

He pulled the hand holding his charm away from his chest, and your eyes widened in excitement at the sight of a flat carving of a flame lily. As he lifted it into the air, the clear crystal caught the light, throwing out fiery red and orange iridescence from within its lattice.

“A flame lily, lucky you!” You shot him a thumbs-up. “That’s the most prized one. A symbol of undying warmth in the cold. Good luck is definitely coming your way.”

“There you two are,” Thatch said, panting a bit as he got through the crowd. “You crazy little cretins, I can’t believe you two did that! And don’t deny it, I saw Ace in the air.”

You whistled, adverting your eyes. “Welllll, it was worth it. Ace got this year’s Flame Lily. How ‘bout you?”

“Right here,” Thatch sighed, reaching into the top of his pompadour and pulling out a glittering, clear hexagonal plate that had flashes of smoky black when he tilted it. “Some lady tried stealing it from my hands after I got it.”

“Looks like all that hair really is useful for something,” you chuckled.

He harrumphed, tucking it in the inner breast pocket of his coat. “Whatever. Did you get one this year?”

You shook your head, a rueful smile on your face. “Nah. Looks like my collection is not growing this year.”

You only caught a flash of guilt on Ace’s face before something was thrust into your face.

“Here,” Izou drawled, a bored look on his face.

Going cross-eyed, you took a step back to see what it was. Your eyes widened when you saw the intricate poinsettia carving in his hand, the details of the flower it was mimicking catching the light prettily.

“I found this stuck to mine,” he said, motioning to the bird-shaped crystal peeking out of the collar of his kimono before you could ask. He shook it. “Take it. I don’t need two of them.”

“Aww, you do care,” you teased as you reached for it.

Izou jerked it out of your grip, raising it out of your reach. “I am not above breaking it over your head.”

“No don’t! I’ll be good, I promise!”

He finally gave it to you, huffing out of his nose as he swept past the tree of you. “Fine. Let’s go. We need to head to the beach if we want to catch the bonfire in time.”

At this point, the sky was blue-hued with the end of sunset, the chill settling deeper into your bones. But still, the lights and candles kept the island festivities in full swing.

“So, what do we do with these things?” Ace asked, inspecting his lily carving.

“You just keep it.” You shrugged. “Put ‘em in a box or something. It’s your choice. Hell, you can even toss them into the ocean, but make sure to point out where you did it so I can go diving for it.”

Ace hummed in thought, glancing over to see your expectant gaze on him. With a smile and shrug, he shoved it into his pant pocket. “I guess I’ll keep it. So what are we doing now?”

“Bonfire should start soon,” you affirmed. “There’ll be food and drinks, the full Whitebeard Pirates shebang, yaknow?”

The growling of a stomach was the response you received from him, and you chuckled.

“We’re almost there,” Thatch reassured. 

True enough, you four took the stone steps down from the edge of the town, where your shoes immediately sunk into sand. Already, you could hear the hubbub of conversation, men on their way to getting sloshed. There was a chorus of greetings that rose when those present saw you four.

“Finally,” Atmos roared, his beer sloshing over his tankard. “Was thinkin’ you guys died fighting in the town center.”

Izou scoffed, sweeping past him as he headed for where Vista and Haruta were. “Please. As if I’d be taken out by something so simple.”

“I’m going to check out to see if the Fourth Division needs any help,” Thatch called, splitting away too.

That left you and Ace again, and you steered him toward a table set up with food. You unleashed him upon the meal, picking up a few things that pulled at your interests too, and allowing yourself to mingle with everyone.

Like most other Whitebeard parties, it was easy to be swept up in the merriment. At one point, you managed to wrangle a spot beside Haruta as he lit up the main bonfire, toasts being called out into the air. Smaller bonfires went up around the beach too, like twinkling, golden stars in the dark.

And when the moon was high in the sky, just about the time when you knew the spectacle of the night would begin, you sought out Ace again.

He was warm as you slung an arm over his shoulder, warmer than even the slight bit of alcohol coursing through your veins. “Aceyyyyyyyyy. Come on closer to the bonfire.”

“Hm? Why’s that.”

You pointed to the towering back of Blenheim in front of you. “Too many tall ones over ‘ere. And you’re warm, but I wanna be warmer.”

“I didn’t realize you were such a heat hog,” he said, rising from his seat at your insistent tugging. 

Fossa smirked at him when he saw the two of you pass by. “Looks like you’re the victim this time, brat. Good.”

You stuck your tongue out at the older man, aiming towards a log laid on as a seat, angled to look into the island instead of out over the sea. Plopping into it with none of the grace you normally held when somber, you sighed at the heat that suffused your back from the bonfire.

At Ace’s questioning look at you, you raised your arm and pointed over the top of the island, where the top of the pine tree could be seen peeking out. “You’ll wanna watch o’er there. It’s good. I promise.”

Following your words were the lights from the town being extinguished, plunging the inland into darkness. Soon, the only lights came from the bonfires dotting the beaches like fireflies as everyone settled. An air of excitement took over the party, those sober and not tilting their heads up to the sky.

A whistle announced the first of the launches before the sky exploded with color. Fireworks bloomed in their brilliant glory, popping and crackling hues of sparkling rainbows before fading out. It was stunning as ever, but since you’d seen it a few times before, you chanced a glance at the man next to you.

Ace’s eyes were wide, the glow of the firelight making them glitter. You smiled softly at the way it transformed his features into something softer.

Even though you haven’t known him for long, the look on his face earlier was too somber for your liking. The two of you may not be close-knit, but you were at least friendly with him on the account of you two being newer to the crews. So to see that troubled look that bellied something deeper made you worried. You may not be close enough to pry, but at the least, you hoped that this was enough to lift his spirits lightly.

You tore your gaze from the black-haired male just in time to see the second round of fireworks going up. More impressive than the last, this time the fireworks were set up into shapes. All around you, cheers rose from the crew as the doggy face of Stephan bloomed into view, followed by an impressive arrangement forming the Moby Dick. 

As this round began to die down, Marco appeared at your side, handing you a steaming drink. “Here, yoi. Keep warm.”

Reaching for it, you asked, “Is it warmed rum?”

“No. I’m not letting you have that again, yoi.” He turned to Ace and jabbed a thumb at you. “No matter how much this one asks, no more of Raykuyo’s rum, alright? I promise you don’t want to deal with the aftermath.”

You sulkily sipped from the cup, finding that it was hot chocolate. Sweet, yet not too heavy to upset your stomach. “Whatever, I drink it ‘cause it chases the chill away.”

“You have Ace with you, yoi.”

“I’m still cold!” you barked. Your eyes gained a calculating gleam as you shuffled closer to Ace, your free hand whipping out to latch onto Marco’s wrist. “But if you’re insisting, why don’t you come have a seat, Marco? I’m sure you’re awfully tired, and it’s an awfully good view to see the fireworks.

His half-lidded eyes were knowing as he moved to sit beside you, bracketing you on all three sides with heat. You sighed in happiness, and relaxed, returning your focus to the sky.

With the bonfire at your back, Ace and Marco by your side, and the crew all around you, your heart was warm.

[bbyjackie]

𝐒𝐎𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐋𝐒 𝐀𝐒 𝐀𝐂𝐄'𝐒 𝐆𝐅 — ♡

one piece social media + dating feat: ace

♡ liked by p1rateking_luffy, marco_o and 7.3k others

_ynln: he's 20 and still manages to burn everything in sight <3

tagged: ace

chef.thatch: All my hard work down the drain

↳ marco_o: wait is this why the deck floorboard is scorched

↳ _ynln: ACE DID IT

↳ _ynln: he fell asleep while we were singing happy birthday 😭😭

↳ ace: WOWWW YN YOU'RE SUCH A SNITCH

↳ marco_o: oh my god

iampops: How do I add a caption on Instagram posts

↳ p1rateking_luffy: HAPQPY BIRTHDYA ACE! (liked by ace, _ynln)

↳ ace: thanks luffy!

♡ liked by iampops, izou.u and 5.4k others

_ynln: worth it ❕❕

tagged: ace

marco_o: oh my god this is why we don't trust you guys unsupervised

↳ _ynln: i know u love us (liked by ace)

↳ marco_o: you guys make me want to throw myself off board

↳ marco_o: im losing hair cause of you two

↳ ace: like you had much to begin with LMFOAOO 💀💀

↳ _ynln: 🤣🤣

↳ marco_o: im letting both of u die

izou.u: are you guys the reason why the bathroom looks like shit

↳ ace: it's yn's fault ☝️

↳ _ynln: WTF HOW IS THIS MY FAULT

↳ _ynln: YOU'RE THE ONE THAT SAID 'wHaT iF wE jUmPEd?' AND THEN CANONBALLED

↳ ace: LMFAOOAOO IT WAS SO FUNNY 🤣

iampops: Sons tell me how to add a caption on Instagram posts

chef.thatch: I lose braincells whenever I am near these idiots (liked by _ynln)

♡ liked by ace, saaaa_bo and 4.9k others

_ynln: if he isn't dreaming about me, im going to sell him to the marines 😪😪

tagged: ace

izou.u: is he even breathing in the second photo

↳ marco_o: i hope not

ace: whaattt of course i was dreaming about you my pookie dookie sugar bear cupcake frappe 😜😍🥰😘🤩❤️‍🔥💕💞💖

↳ saaaa_bo: ew

↳ saaaa_bo: kudos to yn for taking one for the team and dating u

↳ _ynln: i can already hear my 550,000,000 berries from here

↳ _ynln: @saaa_bo FRRR YOU'RE THE ONLY ONE THAT HAS MY BACK ☝️☝️

iampops: Sons I've been asking for a week. How do I add a caption on Instagram posts?

♡ liked by theroronoa.zoro, p1rateking_luffy and 9.2k others

ace: my favourite girl ❣️❣️

marco is my favourite of all time

tagged: _ynln

_ynln: everyone don't be fooled, he tackled me into the ocean straight after this 😐😐

↳ ace: my mum told me to chase my dreams, not my fault my dream tried to run away 🥱

↳ _ynln: YOU STARTED SPRINTING AT ME WHAT WAS I SUPPOSED TO DO

↳ ace: start sprinting towards me at the same time 🤩🤩

lovenami: omg @_ynln you ate in this photo

↳ _ynln: NAMI OMG ILY 💞💞

p1rateking_luffy: HEHE MY FUTURE SISTER IN LAW

↳ ace: bet

↳ _ynln: wait what

↳ iampops: yn how do I add a caption on Instagram posts?

↳ _ynln: pops omg you're showing your age rn

marco_o: jesus christ delete the second part of that caption

↳ ace: stop being shy 😚😚

yamatototo: yn needs to be saved 💀💀 (liked by _ynln)

_ynln 36m

[_ynln] ace replied to your story: marco said it was payback for destroying the bathroom, you're next 🤷