#some 15 minutes before dying jhsdfklajsdfhkja

[fowlfics]

So there's this post that went "three person poly relationship made up of two people who are already dating trying to coax someone with horrific self worth issues into a loving relationship. stray cat style"

and then @deadnamedblog went "#This is my favourite Marco/Ace/Thatch take" and the hamsters in my brain decided to toss it in the blender along with the "subtle foreshadowing" tiktok trend: this is the result xD

also S/O to @saraisanamazingcow aka the most amazing cow and The Hype Squad Leader ever o7

i'll just say this is very canon complicit [sic], and in fact makes canon worse despite how deceptively fluffy it appears xD

***

After being together for over half a decade, there were times when Marco could understand Thatch without a single word spoken. 

Significant looks spoke volumes, and the glance Thatch had tossed him over Ace’s head as they brought him dinner was a message Marco had received quite clearly. 

Still, it didn’t stop Thatch from voicing it the moment they were alone in Marco’s cabin. 

“We’re keeping him, right?” 

“If he decides to join the crew-yoi,” Marco responded dryly, hanging his shirt over the back of a chair. 

Thatch draped over his back immediately, hands sneaking around Marco’s waist. “Y’know what I meant,” he said, breath ghosting against Marco’s neck and hairdo tickling against his chin. “I’m not blind, dear, I can see the way you look at him.” 

Marco tilted his head, raising an eyebrow at Thatch’s shit-eating grin. In a practiced move, he shifted them, crab-like, until they reached the bed, climbing under the covers. 

“We’re in agreement-yoi,” he said then, picking the conversation right back up. “But my answer’s the same; We can make the offer, but we can hardly force him to accept-yoi.” 

“We could bribe him,” Thatch offered instantly. “He loves food-” 

Marco rolled his eyes, pulling his boyfriend closer. “Let him join the crew first before planning our marriage, hm?”

***

There’s no

*** 

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Thatch asked, as if the fact that Ace was willingly clinging to his hand wasn’t something he was going to brag about for the next week. 

“Yeah,” Ace nodded; At least, as much as he could while lying on his stomach. “If I’m gonna join the crew, I’m gonna do it right.” 

“You don’t have to get the tattoo, y’know-yoi,” Marco said, preparing the tattoo gun. Ace had specifically requested that he be the one to tattoo him, and he was finding it difficult not to preen over that choice. 

Ace craned his neck to look over at him, glancing between his face and chest pointedly. 

Marco rolled his eyes. “That’s different-yoi. I got the tattoo before the jolly roger was even solidified-yoi.” 

“So you’re saying you started the tradition?” 

Thatch snorted, making himself more comfortable beside Ace. “He does have a point, though,” he said. “It’s hardly a requirement. There’s plenty of crew who don't have the tattoo, and Pops would never expect this kind of commitment.” 

“I want to, though,” Ace repeated stubbornly, letting go of Thatch’s hand to trace the crossed out S of his other tattoo. “I want to celebrate the gain of a family, not the loss of one.” 

Marco had a feeling that tattoo had more to it than the “drunken mistake” most assumed it to be. 

“You’re the type to get a tattoo of your partners’ initials in a heart, aren’t you?” Thatch teased, and Marco had no doubt he meant partners, plural, even if the word sounded exactly the same as the singular. 

Ace spluttered, but settled down easily when Marco pressed a palm against his shoulder. 

“Well, maybe,” he mumbled into the pillow under his head. “Dunno. Never been in a relationship before.” 

Marco exchanged a look with Thatch, his partner’s refusal of getting any tattoos crumbling in real time. 

Something to discuss after getting the jolly roger onto Ace’s skin, he supposed. 

***

There’s no mention

*** 

Marco could hear them coming from a ridiculous distance, and it was even worse considering how shit his devil fruit made his hearing. 

There was a string of thumps—as if, for example, someone kept walking into walls and other obstacles—followed by increasingly annoyed exclamations of pain and consistently insincere apologies. 

“Damn it, Thatch, why did you want to blindfold me if you’re this shit at guiding?!” 

“Well, I did intend to carry you-” 

“So you could knock my head into every doorframe? No way!” 

“Ace, come on-” 

Judging by the loud thumps of boots on the stairs, Thatch lost that particular argument. 

Funnily enough, Ace seemed to be doing better without Thatch’s guidance, at least until coming out onto the deck. Marco managed to catch him before he walked right into their food, thankfully.

“Y’know, if you had your observation haki trained, this would have been a piece of cake-yoi,” he said as Ace removed the blindfold. 

Thatch, having finally caught up, scowled at seeing Ace in Marco’s arms. 

“Eh, I got a nice cake right here,” Ace snickered, clearly referring to Marco if the speed of the correction was anything to go by. “On the floor, I mean. At my feet-” 

Marco sat down at the blanket right by Ace’s feet, just to have some petty fun. 

Thatch settled beside him, pulling Ace along. He got started on serving the food immediately, correctly predicting it was the fastest way to get Ace to stop sulking. 

And, once it seemed like the unorthodox way of getting him to the picnic was fully forgiven… time had come to ask The Question. 

With one last look towards Thatch, Marco leaned against Ace’s side, sandwiching him in between them. 

“We had a question for you-yoi,” Marco said, his voice low. 

“Mhm?” They didn’t have Ace’s full attention, but this was something they factored in when deciding to do this over a meal. Thatch picked up where Marco left off. 

“Would you join our rela-?” 

A loud snore interrupted him, Ace’s entire body going lax as his head tumbled against Thatch’s chest. He never dropped the drumstick in his grip, though. 

Marco couldn’t help but laugh. 

“He’s got the wildest timing,” he shook his head, grabbing a napkin to wipe Ace’s face before he could rub the grease into Thatch’s shirt. 

“Just like the rest of him.” 

***

There’s no mention of Thatch

*** 

Thatch’s next great idea was trying to leave a message written on Ace’s food, which didn’t work out thanks to the combination of two factors: Ace being nearly illiterate, and the speed at which he devoured anything edible placed before him. 

Figuring that being circuitous would get them nowhere fast, Marco decided to take matters into his own hands. 

“Ace,” he put his hand down on Ace’s shoulder, waiting until he had his full attention. “You know how Thatch and I are in a relationship?” 

Ace blinked at him, swallowing the bite in his mouth and not immediately going for another. 

“Yeah?” 

“We were wondering if you’d like to join us.” 

This got Ace to put his food back on the plate, turning towards Marco fully. 

“What?” He asked, his voice quieter than Marco ever heard him. “What do you mean?” 

Thatch decided to join in, crowding against Ace from the other side of the bench. “See, when three pirates love each other very much-”

In a blink of an eye, Ace was gone, flash of sparks the only sign of where he went. 

Marco and Thatch were left staring at each other. 

“...Too much?” 

“Think the love spooked him off.” 

***

There’s no mention of Thatch in the article

*** 

Courting Ace was like trying to tame a wild animal; Move too fast and he’d scamper off, hiding in some dark corner until the imagined danger passed. 

Getting him to accept the fact that they wanted to spend time with him, that their affection wasn’t a trick, was like pulling teeth. 

But they had to be patient. They made their intentions clear, and Ace would come to them if he was interested in accepting their offer. 

Marco had talked to Ace—other than the regular conversations pertaining to their duties—and he knew that Thatch had, too. Explaining where they were coming from, and that Ace was free to reject them if this wasn’t something he wanted. 

With this being his first relationship, rushing him to make a decision he might regret later was not something they wanted to do.

But… They didn’t want to just give up, either. 

The patience finally paid off one evening. Marco had nearly missed the knock on his doors, quiet as it was. Glancing over to make sure Thatch was decent—his partner was procrastinating on getting in bed in favour of leafing through a Devil Fruits encyclopedia—he walked over to the doors, opening it while hoping there was no emergency waiting on the other side. 

But, no; There was no emergency, just Ace. He looked uncertain, his shoulders sloped as he hugged himself. But when Marco opened the doors, he straightened to look him in the eye. 

“Are you-” He hesitated. “Is the offer still-?”

Marco opened the doors wider, stepping aside to let Ace in. 

With a deep breath to brace himself, Ace crossed the threshold. 

“Ace!” Thatch nearly fell off the chair in his excitement, the book instantly forgotten. “Does this mean-?” 

“If… If you’ll have me.” 

The fist pump and little victory dance Thatch proceed to do seemed to have real-time effect on making Ace feel more comfortable, which was the only reason why Marco decided not to tease him about it. 

“Wait, I gotta,” Thatch scrambled towards a pile of stuff he kept in the corner of Marco’s room, despite having been offered a cupboard of his own multiple times. “Can’t leave this here!” 

“Your devil fruit?” Ace tilted his head, curiosity making him relax some more. “Why not? It’s not like either me or Marco can eat it-” 

“Exactly!” Thatch kept the fruit in a tight grip as he ruffled Ace’s hair. “Have you seen yourself? You eat anything put in front of you, I’m not risking you sleep-eating this thing!” 

“I wouldn’t-” 

“No, he’s right,” Marco sat down on his bed. “Sometimes, you fall asleep at dinner and you just keep going-”

“And I’m not about to lose my new boyfriend on the very first night!” 

Ace blushed at the words, but didn’t run away this time. 

“Okay,” he mumbled, and Thatch couldn’t stop himself from pressing a kiss against his forehead. 

“I’ll be right back,” he promised, darting out of the room. 

At Marco’s encouraging pat, Ace settled next to him as they waited. 

And waited. 

And…

***

There’s no mention of Thatch in the article on Paramount War.