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rollinouttahere-writes · 9 months ago

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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.

Everything is okay. You’re safe for now.

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.

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.

#portgas d ace #portgas d ace x reader #thatch one piece #thatch x reader #marco the phoenix #marco the phoenix x reader #yandere one piece #one piece #one piece x reader #one piece x y/n #one piece x you #whitebeard pirates #yanderefangirl #yandere #platonic yandere #x reader #reader insert

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alexa-yukiyu · 11 months ago

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Hey! Hey! Hey! 😝 I'm back

Anyways can I request a whitebeard pirates x fem child reader? (Maybe 5 years old?)

Reader is half bunny and she's always shy and a bit of a coward and her ears are always down like this

She's always with whitebeard (on his lap, beside him, or on his shoulders)

The crew gives her nicknames like buns, baby bun, bun bun, Cottontail

Oh and the crew is a little protective over reader because she's the smallest crew member on board 🥺

Maybe like the crew is trying to connect with reader? They thought that Marco would be the first one to connect with her (besides pops ofc) because he's quiet and calm but ironically she connect with ace first

Anyways don't forget to eat, sleep, and drink! Thank you~ ✨

Birds of a bunny ( Whitebeard pirates x F!rabbit!child!reader)

A/N okay okay lets ignore than its been an eternity and get straight into saying that despite me ABSOLUTELY COOKING HERE I kinda butchered the request din’t I ? I kind alet myself go but I just really wanted to get to one of your request at the least cosmo

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

Dividers by @/saradika

Whitebeard hums, swishing around his drink and gulping a considerable amount

“They’re looking for you again,” he states, glancing at a small furry ball on his shoulders

She unfurls herself from her position, moving her drooping ears to uncover her face

“I know:..”

“They’re trying.”

“I know, I know that they are good people, but… they are so rowdy.”

He snickers at that, glancing away from her

“I think you should talk to them.”

She shakes her head at that

“Don’t be a brat. You have to talk to your brothers eventually, and if this is how it will be, then I Will have that be now, Boys.”

She looks at Whitebeard, her eyes widening as she shakes her head vigorously, not liking where this was headed

She squeaks as she jumps off his shoulder. As he reaches for her, hopping her way through the deck, attempting to get away from the crew as they all lunge to try to take hold of the bunny girl

She quickly made her way up to one of the lower crow nests, tucking herself small in the corner of it, ignoring the calls of the males down below

She is not alone for long as Ace, ever the nimble one, makes his way up into the crow’s nest, followed quickly by a half-transformed Marco who perches on the crow’s nest, their entrance being received by sobs from the kit

Ace sighs at the sight, swiftly picking her up

“No! Papaw! Papaw!” She cries, trying to get out of Ace’s hold to run back to the now retreating Captain as he heads for his quarters

“Hey, Hey, it’s okay,” he soothes

“Dokucha, It’s okay, take deep breaths for me.” Marco follows only to wince at his suggestion and was met by higher wails

“No! No! I want Papaw!”

He hums, dipping her

She shrieks as she suddenly finds herself upside down, giggling when he pulls her back up, her ears bouncing as she did

“Heard a laugh.”

She shakes her head, digging it into his shoulder

“No?” He questions, dipping her once again, grinning when her laughter followed on the way back up

“Well, I’m glad you are feeling better, Baby bun,” smiles Marco

Dokucha turned her attention towards the man, staring at him for a moment, her eyes glancing towards her limbs, his arms currently transformed into a pair of wings, his legs turned into two sharp, very sharp talons that gripped into the wood of the nest

“Bright aren-

He stops his words as she begins wailing again, turning her head away from him and trying to dig herself into Ace

“Hey, Hey, what’s wrong? It’s just Marco, I know he looks weird-

He receives an unimpressed glance from the phoenix at that

But he won’t hurt you.”

“No!!” She hollers

“He’s going to eat me,” she bellows

He stills at that, glancing down and back up to his brother; quickly understanding the situation, he stifles a snicker as he gestures toward Marco

“Baby bun, look at me.”

“No! I don’t taste good,” she wails

“Just look for a second.” her sobs continue as she dares to take a glance, her sobs lessening at the sight of a now fully human Marco standing in front of her

“See? Just a normal person, that was just my devil fruit,” he explains, reaching for her only to sigh as she scooched back

“Baby bun, come on, I swear I'm not going to hurt you,” Marco stated once they had returned back to the Deck of the ship; much to the surprise of the rest, she had decided to remain with Ace rather than anyone else despite all the warm and more peaceful greetings everyone offered.

“Marco, you’re terrible,” Haruta muttered

“I didn’t think you were the type to scare little girls,” Vista piped in

An irk mark began to grow on his forehead at the jabs his crewmates threw at him

“Shut up,” he grumbled

“Man, I had the wrong impression of you, Commander Marco,” Saber added in

“I always thought you were a good human, but I guess my first impression of you couldn’t be farther from the truth,” Kutatsu commented

“The next one to make a comment will see what kind of man I am,” he snapped, brows furrowed

“Gee, see that Cottontail? Now he wants to eat us. Don’t worry, I’ll protect you!” laughed Thatcher as he looked at the girl in Ace’s arms while pointing at Marco

She glances at the chef, her lips beginning to tremble once again

“Hah?! What’s wrong, Cotton tail?!”

“You’re going to eat me!”

“What?! What gave you that idea, Cottontail!?” He questions a devastated look on his face as she repeated the words he mocked Marco for no longer than a minute ago

Izou chuckles at the scene unfolding

“You have something to share, Izou?!” Thatch asked, glaring at the sniper, tears prickling in his eyes

“I believe she is referring to your… extravagant hairdo.”

“…”

“Cottontail! I'm not a bird, I swear! It’s hair! It’s hair,” he wailed, trying to hug the girl, only for tears to cascade down his face comically as she backed away from him, digging herself closer into Ace’s Embrace

Marco gives a pat on the man crying on his knees

“It’s alright, Thatch; I will protect her,” he mocks

“Shut up, you damn chicken” he wails

He grits his teeth at that, a sharp smile on his face

“You’re on cleaning duty for a month.”

“What the hell, man?! I'm a commander; you can’t do that,” he wails

Okay im going to do school assigment and im going to write another request hopefully!!

Taglist:

@imaginarydreams

@amethystviolin

@h0n3y-l3m0n05

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hannahbarberra162 · 3 months ago

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Snow Fall, Part 2 (Alpha!Izou x Omega!Reader)

18+ MDNI | on Ao3

The other chapters

***SPOILERS FOR WANO***

Thanks for being patient, I got kinda stuck but I'm back into the groove of this fic. Thank you to @gouraminnow for beta-ing this <3

“ Commander Izou, my h-home is to the right,” you stated with uncertainty as Izou carried you in his arms to your residence. You were wearing flimsy cloth shoes that were unsuitable for the winter climate on the island. By the rips on the sides and wear on the soles, you’d been wearing them a long time. Izou had determined he needed to carry you to the next destination to avoid having you freeze to death. Yet another reason Izou wasn’t upset by the destruction his brothers were wreaking on your employer.

Izou also told you to pack up whatever you needed and that you'd be coming with him to the ship. He told you that he was taking you away from your adopted family and you hadn’t protested. You weren’t looking at him directly as he’d informed you but staring off into the distance. You’d protested initially but he had left no room for argument. He could scent your fear and felt your trembling fingers wrapping themselves around his neck as he carried you through the snowy town. He’d have more time to explain later that you’d be safe, that nothing bad was going to happen to you ever again. But for now he wanted to put as much space as he could between you and the horrible people to dare call themselves your family.

“B-but Commander, you don’t need to hold me, I can -” you’d been trying to get him to put you down since he’d first swept you off your feet; he'd plucked you off the ground you’d even made contact with the snowy sidewalk.

“Carrying you pleases me,” Izou said simply. Given your reserved nature as well as the strict social hierarchy you were raised with, he knew you’d defer to him. It was a dance he hadn’t done in a long time, playing along with the social cues and mores of Wanese culture but in this case it worked to his advantage. If he tried to explain that you were under dressed for the weather or that he felt the need to feel your meager weight in his arms, you’d protest further to prevent inconveniencing him. Truthfully, it did please him to carry you, to have your scent so close to his own, to feel the reassurance of you in his arms. He’d carry you forever if you let him.

“Ah, this is it,” you indicated, pointing to a large, solid brick house with smoke coming out the chimney. At least they’d given you a proper place to live, he thought to himself. As Izou stepped on the cleared path to the house, you shook your head.

“N-no, sorry. The house behind this one,” you said quietly, pointing to a shack set back in the snowy woods.

Of course.

Izou noted the rickety shack and the rags covering the windows - either to keep in heat or to keep prying eyes out. Swiftly walking towards the hut, he opened the door and set you down inside.

“Gather your things,” Izou said softly, putting his hand on the small of your back to encourage you. The inside of the single room hut was as dismal as Izou imagined it would be. There were gaps in the thin wood walls, letting in the harsh winter air. Your tiny bed was crammed into the corner, leaving enough room for a table and a broken chair. There was a small chest, he assumed for your clothes and other necessities. There was a tiny stove, barely large enough to boil a kettle of water. Your home, if it could be called that, was tidy and clean. You'd tried to brighten the space with pictures and dried flowers but it hadn't helped the dismal feeling inside the shack.

“I apologize for the state of my house, Commander. If I had known someone like you would be joining -” you were already bowing to him again, your hands stiff at your side balled into fists. Izou bent down to put his hands on your shoulders and righted you to an upright position.

“Do not apologize. Collect your things,” Izou ordered in a gentle tone. You frowned but nodded and walked over to the small bookshelf on the wall. You grabbed an old, battered tome, wrapping it like you were swaddling a baby in one of the few blankets on your bed. Holding it to your chest, you put it in a basket and saw Izou watching you.

“Ah, the cookbook my father gave me before I left Wano,” you said in answer to Izou’s unasked question. You’d mentioned leaving Wano a few times but Izou hadn’t heard of many people leaving the country in recent years. He’d have to get the full story out of you on the Moby. Moving towards you, he noted a picture of himself tacked onto the wall. It was from his most recent Wanted Poster (an attractive photo, if he did say so himself). You had cut off the bottom portion with his bounty and wanted status so it looked more like a photograph of a friend - or lover. You followed Izou’s eyes towards the picture and hung your head.

“This is embarrassing. Please do not take offense, Commander,” you begged while looking down at your feet. Izou laughed softly into the sleeve of his winter yukata.

“What man would take offense at a beautiful woman having his picture on the wall? Please, continue to gather your things. I would like to take you away from here. This building offends me,” Izou said. You were spurred into action from his words. You gathered a few clothing items and a lacquer hair comb, likely also from Wano based on the style.

“I am finished, Commander. I await your next instruction,” you replied seriously, like you were one of the men under his command. He’d have to get you to relax eventually, to accept help and seek it out from him. The Alpha in him wanted to grab you and take you back to his rooms, to show you he could protect you. But Izou knew you were traumatized and nervous, unsure what to do with yourself while you navigated the relationship between them. He’d give you the time and space you needed to recover before making any large moves. Well, larger than taking you to the Moby Dick and away from the island you called home.

“That is all? Do you have more winter clothes? You are not returning to this residence,” Izou stated, nearing you once more. You shook your head and took a step back, making him scowl at your learned muscle memory. Maybe he should return to the shop and teach your family some lessons in proper manners towards women.

“You will come to no harm under my hand, either from myself or any other,” Izou said softly, cornering you against the wall. You cowered away from him, increasing his anger towards those who had harmed you. Without warning he picked you up again, making you squeak in surprise. The scent of fear was strong in the air, souring your perfect snowy smell. Izou detected the scent of his own anger joining your fear, a potent but unpleasant combination.

“I apolog -”

“Do not apologize to me. None of this is your fault,” Izou said, cutting you off. He wished he had met you in Wano, perhaps before you’d become so averse to any kind of conflict.

“Where are you taking me, Commander -”

“ Izou. Just Izou,” he corrected. If he was going to be your Alpha, you needed to get used to calling him by his first name without any honorifics. He didn’t want to force you to be his mate but he was going to do everything in his power to make it so.

“I-izou, where are we going? To another island? Are you taking me back to Wano?” you asked, your hands kneading together as your legs dangled over his arm. Izou frowned at your question. You were agreeable to leaving the island to get away from the people who had been abusing you but he wasn’t so sure how happy you’d be sailing the seas with pirates, especially ones as notorious as the Whitebeard Pirates.

“Would you like to go back to Wano?” Izou couldn’t take you but Kiku was likely still there. Perhaps he could find a way…you paused, considering his question in silence before speaking in a tone so soft he almost couldn’t hear.

“No, there’s nothing for me there. I - my - there’s no one there I don't think,” you said softly. You didn’t say anything further and neither did he as he felt your warm breath on his neck. Afterwards the only sound was Izou’s boots crunching on the icy path as he continued to walk towards the ship. He didn’t want to pry, it was your story to tell, but he was burning to hear how you’d escaped Wano.

“You’ll come with me on the Moby Dick, Whitebeard’s ship. We will figure out next steps from there,” Izou stated less as a suggestion and more a demand. You looked up at him through your lashes and gave a short nod of your head. That was all it took for Izou to leave the hovel you’d been calling home, reminding himself to have Ace torch the family home later.

“Should I - is my debt transferring to you?” you asked, your hands gripping his clothes as he walked through the wintry terrain. The closer you were to him, the sharper your snowy scent in his nose. He pulled you closer to his chest to smell you further but resisted from burying his head in your uncovered neck.

“Yes, you’ve mentioned this debt. To what does it refer? Your…adopted family mentioned it briefly,” Izou asked, as if he was completely unconcerned.

“Ah, it’s kind of a long story,” you hedged nervously, avoiding his gaze. Izou smelled smoke coming from the other side of the island.

“Is there anyone you’d like to say goodbye to -” Izou began to say before you interrupted him for the first time. He assumed you didn’t want to see your abusers again but perhaps there was someone on the island who had shown you kindness.

“No,” you replied without hesitation. Good, they could wreck and raid the island. Made things easier for Ace to remember. With Ace on his mind, Izou smelled smoke and saw the plume rising from town so Izou decided to take the path away from the center of town on his way to the Marina. He didn’t think it would bother you to see the bakery burning to the ground but he didn’t want to distress you any further. To distract you from the destruction he tried a new avenue of conversation.

“And you are Tasuke, yes? Or is there another name you’d prefer to be called? ’ he continued. He wanted to make sure you felt as comfortable as possible with him. He had heard of other Wanese people taking more “common” names after they defected because their given names were difficult for most people to pronounce.

“Oh, Tasuke isn’t actually my name. It kind of ties into how I came here. About ten years ago, Father - ah, my adopted father - came with the Marines to Wano to trade resources with Kaido -”

“How? The borders are closed and Wano isn’t under the jurisdiction of the World Government, Marines can’t trade there,” Izou asked quietly. He didn’t want to interrupt the flow of your story but he hadn’t heard of Marines on Wano. Not that he’d heard anything out of Wano in 20 years but it was interesting information to know.

“ Ah, my parents owned property along the seashore. Seastone was discovered along the cliffs of their property and Marines paid Kaido for the rights to mine it out,” you explained. Ah, that was the connection. Seastone was known to only come from Wano and given that it was being used by Marines across the Grand Line it made sense they were trading with Kaido. Izou idly wondered how much money Kaido had amassed from seastone mining.

“They spent their life savings to bribe a Captain - Father - to smuggle me out of Wano. I was much younger at the time but still hadn’t presented as anything. Well, I was supposed to be an Omega but my scent never developed. They thought I would have a better life outside of the country, or maybe could find a doctor to tell me what’s wrong with me,” you continued. Izou wasn’t going to interrupt your story again but he wanted to tell you that there wasn’t anything wrong with you, that you were the most perfect Omega he’d ever met.

“The Captain brought me out of Wano and brought me here, saying that the amount of danger he had risked increased the cost of my trip. He said that the amount of money my parents paid was not sufficient and that I would need to work for him to pay off my debt. So I cleaned his house, tended to his bakery, cooked for his family, did the family’s laundry, anything they needed. He said that my wages were going towards my debt but the amount I owed only ever seemed to increase. They would charge me for anything that I needed, any time I took off for being sick, any food I consumed, anything,” you continued. No wonder you were wearing shoddy clothing, Izou thought, you were paying for it in sweat and blood.

“So after a few years on the island, I realized Father had no intention of letting me go. And Wido, my brother…well, you saw. He’s always like that - or, um, worse. I kept asking for people to help me - tasukete. I wanted to, ah, leave those people, maybe escape the island and go back to Wano. I didn’t have any concrete plans, I just wanted to leave here,” you said, rubbing your arms where the bruises lingered. Izou fought the urge to scowl at the memory of Wido harming you but settled on holding you tighter in his arms. You needed comfort from him, not aggression. He wanted to show you that he wasn’t a mindless alpha like some, ready to tear off your clothes and sink into you. He wanted you to see that he would wait until you were ready.

“After a while everyone assumed Tasuke was my name and that’s what they called me. I don’t mind anymore,” you said with a small smile as your story concluded. Izou reflected your own mannerism back to you though he felt like murdering everyone on this godforsaken island and leaving nothing standing. Unfortunately he’d have to trust in his brothers to wreak havoc on the island and not partake in this particular adventure.

“ And your parents?” Izou prompted.

“I haven’t heard anything from them in ten years so I don't know anything for certain. Father’s missions changed and he stopped going to Wano shortly after I came to the island. I can only hope they are alive and well, though they were quite elderly when I left,” you said wistfully, staring at the water he was now approaching by the docks. Izou knew that longing, twisting, yearning. He felt the same for his own sister who he hadn’t been in communication with for decades, since he'd left with Oden. He had written hundreds of letters and saved them all with the intention of somehow getting them to her eventually. His brothers, though sympathetic, didn’t understand what it was like to be completely and irrevocably cut off from home. He wanted to continue the conversation but was now at the dinghy that would take you to the massive ship moored father into the icy ocean.

“Hey! What gives?!” Thatch complained from inside the boat. There was some soot on his winter coat and gloves but Izou didn’t mention it.

“What do you mean?” Izou replied coolly, still cradling you in his arms.

“You’ve never carried me before. Not even when I broke my leg! You made me walk to the beach and Marco had to come get me!” Thatch huffed.

“.....and?”

“AND you’ve been carrying her this whole way! S’not fair,” Thatch pouted, crossing his arms like a petulant child. Thatch broke into a soft smile when he saw the confusion on your face, looking between them rapidly while trying to determine if there was true anger between him and Thatch. Izou guessed you spent the last decade walking on eggshells, attempting to maintain peace between your “family” members and avoid being beaten as a consequence.

“S’alright. Come on, let’s head back before we’re barbecued,” Thatch said, grabbing the oars to the boat. Izou stepped into the dinghy, still holding you and your meager belongings. He settled you into his lap as Thatch shot him a dirty look you couldn’t see and began rowing the three of you back to the Moby. Izou rolled his eyes and pursed his lips, his brothers liked to claim he was dramatic but really, Thatch was the biggest drama queen on the ship. You were busy burying your head and hands into Izou’s chest to avoid the freezing winter winds blowing off the seas. Thatch eyed you sympathetically and grabbed the warm winter hat off his own head.

“Ask her if she wants it,” Thatch suggested, holding the gaudy orange hat outstretched in his hand. Izou didn't wear winter hats, they mussed his hair and he didn't often feel cold. But now he wished he did so he could give you his own.

“My brother Thatch is offering you his hat to keep you warm. You may remember him from the bakery. Would you like it?” Izou asked you softly, patting your hair while he spoke. You picked your head up and looked at it longingly.

“How much does it cost? If I just wear it once?” you asked, biting your lip.

“Nothing. Your debt has been paid off. For good,” Izou said, his voice a little tighter than he intended. Your eyes flicked to his, trying to read his face to determine if he was lying or not. Izou kept his face impassive to let you make your own choices. You turned to face Thatch in the boat and did a bow as large as your limited positioning allowed.

“Thank you,” you said simply, reaching for the hat with shaking fingers. You sniffed the hat as politely as you could and must have found it not repulsive because you put it on your head. Izou was pleased you were warm but was a little annoyed you weren’t wearing anything with his scent on it. He would make some Wanese winter clothes for you like he did for himself once you settled in on the ship. Izou decided to give you some general ideas of who the siblings you had met were.

“Thatch is in charge of the Culinary Division of the crew, Ace - the dark haired young man who ate the most in the bakery - is in charge of Navigation. Marco - the tall blond - is the doctor of the ship and in charge of the Medical Division,” Izou explained. Thatch waved when he heard his name, he probably assumed that Izou was doing introductions. You gave a smile and waved back.

“Nice to meet you,” you said in your beautifully accented voice. Clearly you had learned some Common but your family had likely prevented you from learning enough to make an escape. Language barriers were an easy way to keep you on the island in perpetuity.

“I would be overjoyed to work in the kitchens if Thatch would have me. I am best at baking but I am also competent at food preparation and stocking, dishes, cleaning, and knowledgeable in cooking most types of standard fare. I would be thrilled to learn anything that is needed to -” Izou took your cold hands in his own, partially to warm them and partially to stop your speech.

“ It would be our pleasure to learn from your expertise in the kitchens. But let me make something clear before we proceed - you do not need to earn your keep. You have no debt to settle and no need to prove your worth. You are free.”

Taglist: @mfreedomstuff @animefreak818

#snow fall #izou x reader #alpha Izou #sometimes burning an entire island to the ground might be ok I think #its justified here #x reader #whitebeard crew #thatch one piece #I do really think Thatch would be ~that bitch~#he's nice and kind don't get me wrong #but he ~also~ wants to be carried by Izou #me too girl #op x y/n

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thekraftcryptid · 9 months ago

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“Those warm arms tightened incrementally around you. It was too hot, like he was trying to burn all the tears out of your body. You wanted to push him off- wanted to make him let go, but the heat was the first thing you could really feel.

The first thing that didn’t seem wrong.

“I’ve got you,” Ace’s promise was quiet, “It’ll be okay.””

-Suprise, You Ruined Everything. By HippyMindy52 (Chapter 21.)

Aaaash alright, second art piece for this fic, I’ve been thinking about this scene since the chapter 21 dropped and couldn’t help myself. Ace was so soft and that was so sweet and cute! Can’t wait for the trauma of next chapter and having to talk to pirate daddy.

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pinksugarscrub · 2 months ago

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Atlantis

Milo Thatch! Reader x Kida! Hobie

@yumeaoka-chan , this is my favorite scene rewritten with Hobart in mind.

Word count: 650

Warning(s): Hobie's concept of boundaries

“Okay-” you exhale, “I can do this.”

Placing one hand over your chest while the other supports your weight on a pillar so ancient you want to cry. The intricacies of the architecture reduced to faded imagery. Honestly it’s possible these could describe the topography of Atlantis just as well as it could describe its history. But the city—wait, you’re getting extremely off track.

There’s an Atlantean to confront.

“Look I have some questions for you and I’m not leaving until they’re answered.” You stumbled over your words as you rock on your heels.

Was it honestly possible to sweat this much in an underwater city? Normally your anxiety was bad but not this bad

Then again this wasn’t a normal Tuesday where you presented your findings in front of a committee. Where rejection was just a delayed yes. No this was-

“I have some questions for you and you are not leaving this city until they are answered.”

You sputter as you feel his breath against your ear. His body heat is just as difficult to register as he loops his arm around yours and presses it against your back.

“Hold- wait a minute.” You squeak, almost all in one word.

“Shh, come with me.”

That’s how you’ve found yourself being led by the man who healed the scar on your collar. He has to tug you along as the city grows smaller and smaller until it’s only a speck in the distance.

The plant life is so large and vibrant. Nothing hinders the roots from growing deep within the earth and if they do vines choke the stone until there isn’t anything left.

Crystal clear, and that isn’t an exaggeration. The waterfalls cascade down so far down into the body of water surrounding Atlantis the depth reminds you of a trench.

You hope a leviathan isn’t lurking beneath. A shiver rolls down your spine and then, you’re plummeting as you’re being tugged down a fallen beam by the hem of your jeans.

“You are a scholar are you not?”

The grin on his face has the complaint you had ready dying on your tongue. Tugging your jeans back up by your belt loops along with rolling your top down you let out a sigh. Pushing your glasses too back up the bridge of your nose.

In comparison to the man in front of you, you feel severely underdressed.

There are blue markings under his eye that you didn’t have the chance to notice in your first encounter. A singular gold earring on one ear while several were adorned on the other.

Royalty, he looked like royalty. Not in the polished and refined way the royal family was back home in England. No offense to the queen. It was much more subtle. Stemming from the confidence in his stance. The controlled excitement in his eyes.

“Judging from your diminished physique you are suited for nothing else,” he laughs. Knocking on your forehead as if it were a door.

You are beginning to mind how often he tugs and pulls at you. You aren’t a doll for crying out loud and he must be at least six feet. Were you weak or were Atlantean men just naturally stronger?

“What is your country of origin?”

You protest as he steals your glasses. Setting them on his nose with a triumphant smile. The lenses make his brown eyes larger of course.

You’re struggling to catch up as he spouts out question after question and you’re not doing much better in that department. You feel like a powder keg about to explode.

Carefully sliding your glasses off of his face you chuckle nervously. “Right, well, let’s do this. I have some questions for you too so you ask one then I’ll ask one.”

His smile softens and he lets out a huff. Preferably not at your expense. “Very well, what is your question?”

#hobie brown #hobie brown x reader #across the spiderverse #atsv #atsv hobie #hobie brown x you #hobie x reader #atlantis the lost empire #atlantis au #x female y/n #x female reader #x fem!reader #milo thatch #princess kida #prince! hobie #scholar! reader

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cinnamoonblue · 4 months ago

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The Legend of the Seven Seas | Masterlist

Started: 29.12.2024 Finished: Last Update: 18.02.2025

ON HOLD UNTIL JULY

Summary: The Book of Peace - an ancient book which protects the twelve cities. Stored in the highest tower in the city of Syracuse, the book stands untouched as Prince Sabo brought it home. The prosperity it brings to humanity made it a target to the Goddess of discord Eris, who intends to bring chaos to the people of the twelve cities by making a deal with the famous pirate Portgas D Ace to steal it.

“You're not thinking big enough, Ace. Steal the book for ransom and you can be rich enough to lounge on the beach of a tropical island. Steal it for me, and you can buy the beach. And the island. And the world.” Said Eris, her voice sultry as she passed by Ace, fingers brushing his face.

Main characters: Portgas D Ace x Reader (female) & Eris - Goddess of Discord

Supporting characters: Luffy, Sabo, Marco, Thatch, Izo, Kiku, Whitebeard

Description: This story is entirely based on 'Sinbad: The Legend of the Seven Seas'! Of course I will add my own touch to it and things that are not part of the film, but still it will be following the animation storyline. A lot of lines that I liked from the movie will be included in the dialogue as well.

WARNINGS: explicit language, descriptions of violence, 18+ only, contains explicit sexual themes and content, use of alcohol, implied injury, slow burn, illegal activities, conflicted feelings, conflicted relationship, emotional distress, jealousy, suggestive themes, violence, mentions of monsters. (+ every chapter has it own warnings)

Chapter I | A word of a Goddess Chapter II | The Book of Peace Chapter III | coming soon...

writing, format, header & dividers © cinnamoonblue ©cinnamoonblue, do not copy or plagiarise my work.

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isuckatwritingsobenice · 8 months ago

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mrsportgas · 8 months ago

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Ghost Ridders Cap.4

#Summary: Eight years ago, you were taken against your Will to Mary Goise to become the new slave of Saint Roswald, or rather, to living a hell on earth. One day, while you go with him on a visit to a New World´s island in the New World, but a familiar face appears. This creates the perfect opportunity for you to escape, join the Whitebeard Pirates, and discover more about your past, your abilities, and who you really are. All while you try to endure your new crewmate, Portgas D. Ace, who is incredibly annoying... or perhaps incredibly irresistible? You haven't decided yet.

This story is based in the world of One Piece, with the same characters and timeline. Of course, this story is fiction created by me. Some of the timelines, names, and characters might be the same, also some names, characters, stories, or even personalities may be altered. The story is happening pre-time skip, while strawhats are in sabondy for the first time.

The first chapter is an introduction to the current story, which begins with Ace as your central romance. (This romance may shift to other characters as the story progresses, but don't worry, there's still plenty of Ace to come.) The story is written in first person. Female gender, Y/N, but feel free to change the gender, name, or anything else that makes you more comfortable.♡

Feel free to interact, likes and comments are very welcome!!!!!!! this hepl me keep writing!!! Suggestions and constructive criticism are also appreciated. Images are for more inspiration!!!!!

Previous Chapter.

The bartender's smile faltered slightly, a flash of something unreadable passing through his eyes. His overly enthusiastic demeanor shifted to something more reserved, perhaps even slightly annoyed. "Of course," he said, forcing a chuckle as he turned away to attend to other customers.

Ace stood there for a moment, watching the bartender’s retreating figure before finally turning his gaze back to me.

"What was that about?" I asked, gesturing to the empty glass in his hand. "I didn’t like the way he was looking at you.”

"Great! To be honest i had enough. I'm going back to the ship," I sighed.

"Fine, I'll go with you. Just in case that guy decides to come back," Ace declared.

"I can go alone, Ace. I don't need a babysitter," I replied clearly annoyed as I got up from the chair.

As I reached the exit, I saw out of the corner of my eye how the bartender smiled at my presence. He was kind of cute.

-------------------------------------------------------------

I was walking through the lively streets of the city, heading toward the ship, when I heard footsteps behind me. I turned, ready to fight if necessary. Ace, with his characteristic cocky smile, was looking at me from behind.

"Get lost, Ace," I said as I continued on my way.

"I can't let anything happen to Marco's cute little sister," he responded as he approached me. "Besides, you're the one who crossed my path. I was just heading to the ship to... get something."

I rolled my eyes and kept walking. We both remained silent until we reached my cabin. I was about to open the door, but Ace was still behind me.

"What's wrong? Do you want to sleep with Marco?" I asked Ace as he looked at me with a smile on his face—he was drunk. "Maybe you two can sleep together, in the same bed and everything. I'm sure he'd love the idea."

Ace placed an arm on the doorframe, right next to my face, and getting closer than I’d like (though I really did like it), he said, "You can stay in your room with Marco and his snoring... or you can come with me. You won't regret it." He said while caressing my cheek with his other hand.

I have to admit, Ace's proposal was too tempting, but I didn't want to complicate things. I had just joined this crew, and I didn't want things to get awkward because of one night.

"Maybe another time," I responded as I opened the door and walk in as fast as i could to escape the situation.

Ace's hands grabbed my waist from both sides. His large, strong hands held my entire body. "My room is at the end of the hallway. If you ever need anything, you know where to find me. You... can come whenever you want," he whispered in my ear, just loud enough for me to hear. "Well, I'm heading back to the bar," he continued as if nothing had happened. "The party will fall apart without me." And with that he desapeared.

I entered the room, still in shock from everything that had just happened—the party, the bartender, a smiling Deuce, and Ace...

Marco lay peacefully snoring on the other side of the room.

"So, in the end, it really is Marco, me and his snoring..." I thought to myself.

I fell asleep surprisingly quickly, my dreams filled with all the events of that night. Suddenly, I woke up. Noises and voices could be heard in the distance until silence once again reigned in the rooms.

"ACE!!!" A moan echoed through the hallway.

Was it my imagination? No. The moans, coming from a voice that was unfamiliar to me, continued.

Ugh, had Ace brought someone back? After everything he had said to me? I couldn't believe it. It was just another one of his games. But, to be honest, I'd rather listen to Marco's snoring than someone screaming Ace's name.

--------------------------------------------------------------

I woke up the next morning, remembering what had happened, and my stomach twisted.

I got dressed and headed to the dining hall. Most of the crew was there, eating and talking about the previous night. Among the crowd, I spotted Ace with Marco, Tatch, and... next to him, a blonde girl I had never seen before. At that moment, I started connecting all the dots. He probably went back to the bar and brought someone along, one of the many who were more than ready and willing to go with him to the ends of the earth.

As I approached the dining area, I could feel my heart sinking. The sight of Ace laughing and chatting with the blonde girl felt like a punch to the gut. It was silly, I told myself. I had no claim on him, and it wasn't like he had promised me anything. Still, the way he had spoken to me last night, the way his hands had lingered on my waist, had made me believe, even for just a moment, that I was special to him.

I shook my head, trying to clear the thoughts as I entered the room. The din of the crew's chatter filled the air, but my focus was squarely on Ace. He hadn't noticed me yet, too engrossed in his conversation. I hesitated, unsure if I should approach or just slip away unnoticed. Before I could make a decision, Marco spotted me and waved me over.

"Morning," Marco greeted with a warm smile, oblivious to the turmoil inside me. "How'd you sleep?"

"Fine," I lied, forcing a smile. My eyes flickered to Ace, who was now looking directly at me. There was something unreadable in his gaze, a flicker of recognition, perhaps even guilt, but it was gone as quickly as it appeared.

"Join us," Marco offered, pulling out a chair next to him. I hesitated for a moment, but refusing would have seemed odd, so I took a seat, trying to ignore the blonde sitting across from me.

"So, did you enjoy the party last night?" Tatch asked, leaning forward with a grin.

"Yeah, it was... interesting," I replied, my tone more flat than I'd intended. I could feel Ace's eyes on me, but I refused to meet his gaze. Instead, I focused on the plate in front of me, pushing around the food with my fork.

"Interesting, huh?" Marco chuckled, but his eyes narrowed slightly as if sensing something was off. He was always perceptive, too much for his own good.

"Yeah, you know how these things are," I replied with a shrug, trying to play it cool. I was about to take a bite when I heard a laugh, bright and carefree, coming from the blonde. She leaned closer to Ace, touching his arm as she spoke, and I felt my stomach twist again.

I finished breakfast as quickly as I could, eager to escape the dining hall. I got up and said my goodbyes, feeling the curious eyes of my crewmates on me, and headed to the library. If I wanted to be a good doctor, I had better start studying.

When I arrived at the library, I found Deuce sitting at one of the tables, reading a book. "Didn't expect to see anyone in the library," he said without looking up from his book.

"Someone once told me this was a good place if you don’t want to talk to anyone... or if you wanted to hide..." We exchanged a knowing smile.

I spent the day in the library, talking with Deuce about medicine, sharing books, and exchanging small tips. Marco even stopped by for a few hours, giving us a lesson on how to use certain plants to treat deep wounds.

The sun was just about to set on the horizon. Kotatsu and I were cuddled by the window, watching the sunset when someone gently touched my shoulder.

"Y/n..." Izou's voice pulled me out of my trance.

I turned around, greeting him with a big smile.

"A guy came by looking for you..." Izou's calm but intrigued tone surprised me; there was a hint of uncertainty in his gaze.

"Who?" I asked, surprised.

"Tall, blonde... says you met yesterday at the bar..." he said thoughtfully. "I told him to wait on the deck until you got there."

"Alright, I'll change and go." I wasn't too convinced about seeing that guy again; there was something about him that didn't sit right with me. Plus, in my situation, I couldn't trust anyone, but maybe this was a good way to show Ace that I didn't care about what he had done and that I could move on.

---------------------------------------------------------

Ace was leaning against the ship's railing, staring out at the horizon with the sea breeze tousling his hair. His mind was elsewhere, replaying the events of the previous night over and over again. He could still feel the warmth of your hips under his hands and the frustration of letting you go. But despite his words and actions, Ace wasn’t the type to push someone, especially not you, Marco's sister.

The sound of footsteps on the deck pulled him from his thoughts. In the distance, he saw Izou walking toward him with his usual carefree demeanor, but there was something in Izou's expression that caught Ace's attention. As Izou approached, he gestured toward the other end of the deck, where the bartender from the previous night was waiting, clearly uncomfortable under the curious stares of some of the crew.

"He says he's here to see Y/n. That they met last night," Izou explained, his tone laced with distrust.

Ace felt a knot form in his stomach. He didn’t like the sound of this. "I’ll handle it," Ace said, straightening up. As he walked toward the intruder, he sensed the familiar presence of Deuce following him. "Don’t do anything stupid, Ace."

The blonde looked up as they approached, his posture tense despite his attempt to appear relaxed. Ace noticed Deuce's eyes fixed on the man with his usual cold, analytical gaze.

"What are you doing here?" Ace asked, his voice sounding harsher than he intended.

The blonde smirked. "I just came to see if she wanted to hang out, since we got interrupted last night. Clearly, she wanted to keep talking to me."

Ace let out a dry laugh. "Oh, really? Funny, she didn’t mention anything about that."

The man looked confused for a moment, but then quickly regained his composure, trying to maintain his confidence. "Maybe she forgot to mention it. I left her a note saying I'd come to see her today."

Ace felt his patience slipping. He took a step forward, but before he could do anything, Deuce grabbed his arm. "You should leave. I don’t think she wants to see you," Deuce said, trying to defuse the situation.

At that precise moment, a voice interrupted the heated conversation from behind them. "Deuce?… Ace? What’s going on here?" Deuce and Ace froze at the sound of my voice.

"Nothing, this guy was just leaving," Deuce responded.

I stepped in front of them and walked toward the bartender. "I heard you were looking for me. We should go somewhere… quieter."

I walked across the deck toward the gangplank leading to the port, with the bartender following behind me.

"My name’s Pete, by the way," the guy said as soon as we stepped onto the port.

"I’m Y/n."

"Your friends are… charming," he said with irony.

"They’re just concerned… I think."

We walked through the port until we reached a small hill with a lookout point. Pete and I sat down, and for most the night, we talked about everything and nothing. The conversation flowed so naturally that it felt like I’d known him all my life. Of course, I had to invent my entire life story. There came a point in the night where I felt like I might be able to trust him, but something deep inside me told me not to. Besides, my thoughts kept returning to Ace.

Under the intense light of the crescent moon, Pete suddenly lunged at me, trying to kiss me. But almost instinctively, I dodged him. The truth was that even though I liked him, I couldn’t stop thinking about Ace.

Seeing my reaction, Pete leaned in close to my ear. "What’s wrong, don’t you want to?" he asked, grabbing my hands with one of his.

The sound of a chain made me go on high alert. I pulled away from Pete just enough to see that he was holding a huge chain in his other hand. The guy's face twisted into a malicious grin as he tightened his grip on my hands and tried to wrap the chain around them.

I quickly yanked my hands free with force, kicking him in the stomach, which made him release me so I could escape.

"I didn’t think it’d be this easy to catch you. You know... you should listen to your friends more often," he said as he pulled out a large whip.

I quickly turned around, ready to run, when the large rope coiled around my neck. Sea Stone. The damn chain was made of Sea Stone.

He yanked the chain back, causing me to fall to the ground, and then struck my back with the whip. It was hard to breathe, and the strong lash had left me trembling on the ground. "Who are you?" I managed to stammer.

"CP-0," he replied coldly.

Damn it, I couldn’t let them capture me, not now. I had to fight, do whatever it took; I’d rather die than go back to Mary Geoise.

I got up as quickly as I could, considering the Sea Stone chain was draining my energy. I ran towards the guy to make the chain less taut so I could remove it. He hadn’t expected this, and not understanding why I was running in his direction, he froze. I took advantage of this and reached for my neck, trying to untie the chain. In response, he lashed out at my hands again.

For long minutes, the guy swung his whip wherever my body moved, and I tried to dodge it—sometimes successfully, sometimes not. Seeing this, he threw the whip aside and proceeded to do the same with the chain. The guy's strength surprised me as I saw how he lifted the chain with moderate ease while trying to strike me with it. Since the chain was heavier and longer, each movement he made with it was slow but devastating if it hit me. Exhaustion was starting to take its toll on me; it was becoming harder and harder to dodge the blows, and the Sea-Prism Stone chain was still draining my energy. But desperation and the will to survive kept me moving.

As I dodged another attack, I saw an opportunity. The chain had hit the ground with such force that it created a small dent, but more importantly, it exposed an end of the chain that had not yet been lifted. If I could grab that end, maybe I could gain some advantage.

With a cry of effort, I lunged for the chain, grabbing the loose end tightly. Pete, surprised by my action, tried to regain control, but before he could, I wrapped the end of the chain around a nearby post. The weight of the chain did the rest, pulling Pete sharply to one side and throwing him off balance.

I took advantage of his confusion to run, though I could barely stay on my feet. The pain in my back and hands was unbearable, but I knew stopping wasn’t an option. I couldn’t let him catch me again.

"You can’t run, Y/n! CP-0 always gets what it wants!" Pete shouted, trying to free himself from the chain, but I was already focused on finding a way out.

I knew I couldn’t go back to the ship directly; Pete could catch up to me before I got there. Instead, I decided to run toward a group of nearby buildings, hoping to lose him in the narrow streets and alleys. My breathing was erratic, and every step felt like a challenge, but adrenaline and fear pushed me forward.

I entered one of the alleys and hid behind some barrels, trying to catch my breath and calm my furious heartbeat. I heard Pete's footsteps approaching, and I held my breath. I knew that if he found me now, it would be over.

"Do you really think you can hide from me?" His voice echoed through the streets, and the sound of the chain dragging on the ground sent a chill down my spine.

If I could distract him long enough, I might be able to get back to the ship and warn the others. I needed to make noise in one direction and then slip away in the other. I looked around and saw a pile of small stones near the barrels. It was a risky plan, but I had no other choice.

With as much stealth as I could muster, I grabbed a few stones and threw them toward the other end of the alley. The noise made Pete spin sharply toward the sound, giving me the chance to slip away in the opposite direction. I delivered a solid punch that knocked him to the ground.

I ran again, ignoring the pain in my body, and managed to reach another street before Pete could react. I felt a surge of relief, but I knew I wasn’t safe yet. I had to get back to the ship, I had to warn the others about CP-0.

The deck of the Moby Dick was silent. Most of the crew was asleep. I made it to the hallway, where I stumbled and fell to the ground, making a loud noise.

"Y/N?" Izou came out of his room. "What happened?"

Because of the commotion and our voices, a few other commanders came out of their rooms. Among them was Ace, who was furious at the scene.

"I knew it. It was that stupid bartender, wasn’t it?" he said, walking down the hallway toward the exit.

"Let's get her to the infirmary. Jozu, wake up Marco," Izou said quickly. "Ace… where are you going now?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I´m going to kill him."

Vista made a move, triying to stop him, while the others tell him to wait, to think clearly....but he kept going and disappeared into the dark.

"He's with CP-0; he came to capture me," I managed to say with my last breath.

"Let him go… maybe it's for the best. As soon as Ace returns, we leave; this will give us an advantage to disappear before they alert anyone else," I heard Izou say before I passed out.

I woke up with a start. Nightmares had haunted me all night. Pete… Saint Roswaald, and everything I had experienced until now, had played out step by step in my dreams. I woke up dazed in the infirmary bed, not really knowing where I was. I felt helpless and alone, very alone.

Staggering, I dragged myself to my room, hoping to find Marco there, but when I opened the door, the room was empty.

"He’s with Pops." A voice came from behind. Ace.

I turned around, and the look of terror and tears on my face made his expression change completely to tenderness.

"I… uh… I need to find him," I managed to stammer.

"I think you need to sleep."

Ace had traces of blood and scratches on his face. Then the image of Pete flashed back into my mind and I could feel my eyes starting to get wet.

"I don’t think that guy will bother you again, besides, we’re already at sea—it’ll be hard for them to find us." He was getting closer and closer to me.

My heart was racing more and more—Pete, CP-0… everything was spinning in my head, and a ringing began to fill my ears.

"Y/N?… Y/N!!!" Ace repeated as I fainted.

Flashes came to my mind as Ace was carrying me in his arms. When I opened them once more, I was in a bed, in a room I had never seen before, though it was very similar to mine, only with a huge bed. I sat up a bit, and I heard a small groan. Ace was sleeping soundly on one side of the bed, next to me, though leaving enough space so that our bodies would never have to touch. My stomach fluttered, full of butterflies and nervousness at Ace’s presence. Though I wasn’t sure how I had ended up there, I decided to close my eyes and rest.

----- TO BE CONTINUED-------------

Slow Burn!!!!!

NEXT CHAPTER

16 notes · View notes

shirohige-pirates · 1 year ago

Text

Please keep your hands and feet inside the ride at all times.

White Out

Characters: Marco, Ace, Thatch, Izo

Reader: AFAB, GN pronouns (they/them)

Word Count: 10,427 (I’m sorry.)

CW: Explicit N.SFW content, PWP, gangbang, double penetration, knifeplay (light), oral, anal, deepthroating, breast fucking, degradation, praise, roleplay, CNC, bondage, BDSM, short reader (mentioned briefly, not size kink though)

Summary: I have nothing to say for myself.

Actual Summary: You and your four favorite people try your hands at a little roleplay.

AO3 Link

Keep reading

#one piece x reader #one piece x you #one piece x y/n #one piece smut #marco x reader #thatch x reader #izo x reader #izou x reader #izo one piece #ace one piece #izou one piece #thatch one piece #marco one piece #ace x reader #one piece imagines #zen writes #mdni #x reader #reader insert

865 notes · View notes

puppy-eyyes · 23 days ago

Text

The Chosen (Jungkook x Reader)

Preview:

A village in the woods. Creatures made of shadows. An unwilling contract. She always felt his presence—the weight of his gaze—but never tried to escape. He watched, waited... and finally tricked her into giving what he needed to claim her.

Pairing: Yandere Jungkook x Reader

Word count: 4k.

Warnings: 18+, Yandere, Obsession, Manipulation, Forced Relationship, Kidnapping, Mention of sacrifices, Fear, light smut, will add more for next chapter.

Author's note: Hi there. This is my first fic. I TRIED! It was supposed to be a one shot, but decided to split in two or three chapters. We'll see. The supernatural beings were inspired by Wildwood Dancing and Heir to Sevenwaters by the incredible Juliet Marillier.

PART I

Bloodbark, 15th Century.

The village sat like a forgotten relic, nestled between the blackened trees of the endless forest. Its cobbled streets were uneven, worn down by centuries of footsteps and wagon wheels, and the air always carried the thick scent of burned wood, damp moss, and iron.

The houses were old, their timber frames warped by time, their roofs sagging under layers of thatch and moss. The narrow alleyways between the buildings were cloaked in shadows, places where light seemed to hesitate, and where villagers hurried past without daring to look too long.

In the market square, merchants sold rough bread, dried meats, and bitter herbs beneath weathered canvas stalls, their voices hushed, their eyes flicking toward the towering Old Tree at the village’s center.

The Old Tree.

It stood twisted and massive, its bark blackened and scarred with deep, unnatural grooves—marks that no villager dared explain. No fruits, no leaves, no life. Just a skeletal thing, looming over the square, casting long, claw-like shadows that stretched across the cobblestones.

Long ago, when the land was still young, the massive tree gave enough fruits to feed the village. But on one moonless night, a mark, black as ink, thick as oil, appeared on its trunk. The fruits became rotten, and the villagers felt eyes on them at every single moment. They thought it was a prank of the troublemakers of a neighboring village and paid no mind to the mark.

By morning, the first child was gone, and a message was left behind. The black mark would return during the new moon, a warning that the Night People would need to be fed again.

The Night People are not like any creatures they know. They are shadows made flesh, with eyes that see through walls and voices that only the wind can carry. Some say they were once men, and others that they are the very embodiment of darkness.

The villagers do not fight. They do not resist. They leave their offerings at the tree, whispering prayers to gods who do not answer.

One mark meant they needed a man. Two marks meant they required a woman.

And if there was a third mark, smeared across the door or window of a villager’s home?

It meant the Night People had already chosen.

The villagers would do what was necessary, the only solution is to send a sacrifice into the woods. They resorted to kidnapping outsiders and kept them as possible offerings as a way to preserve the inhabitants.

It was better to give the sacrifice willingly than to risk the creatures taking more.

But once the mark was placed on a home, the family had no choice. No one dares to trick them, for the Night People always know, they are always watching.

Park family home, a day before the new moon.

The farm sat on the village’s outskirts, where the land bled into the forest’s edge. The house was old, but spacious enough for a family of four. It was the worst option the Park family could find.

Y/N knelt near the chicken coop, scattering feed to those little feathered monsters. The birds pecked greedily, while the girl was impatient to return to her room. She hated being outside.

There it was again.

That feeling.

The weight of unseen eyes pressing against her skin, sinking into her bones like a sickness.

Her fingers twitched around the bag of grain. She didn’t turn around. Didn’t lift her gaze toward the forest that loomed beyond the crooked fence, where the trees grew too close together and the shadows stretched.

It had been this way since she came to Bloodbark.

A year ago, the flood had taken everything—her family’s farm, their animals, the land they had lived for generations. When they arrived in Bloodbark, the villagers welcomed them with wary eyes and whispered warnings, but no one turned them away. Her parents looking defeated, the young woman carrying her little brother in her arms.

They could have had the same fate as the people locked in the main barn: the sacrifices, but her father was a strong man and her mother had a way with words. They would become what they call as The Hunters: people who attacks and snatch outsiders.

The villagers gave them land, a place to rebuild.

The first time she felt observed was on her second day, while assisting on settling in. Surely, the villagers probably were observing the newcomers as a freak attraction. No one was in sight.

At first, Y/N thought the unease would pass, but every once in a while she felt that feeling again, sometimes accompanied by a scent - something cold, sharp, and sweet all at once. Like the breath of the forest before a storm.

At this point, she doesn’t even look around anymore. She knows the rules. The Night People never come out during the day.

“Y/N! Hurry up! Dinner is almost ready!” she hears her mother yelling from the window. “Bring eggs if you can find any!”

She laughed. A normal family in such an abnormal place.

Y/N focused on gathering the eggs in her apron and walked back to her house.

The kitchen was warm, filled with the rich scent of stew and fresh bread, but it did little to shake the cold that clung to Y/N’s skin. She set the eggs on the wooden counter, rubbing her arms as she watched her mother move about, ladling thick broth into bowls.

Her father sat at the head of the table, looking out of the window, his brows drawn in quiet focus. Her little brother, Sunwoo, kicked his feet beneath the table, swinging his legs too short to reach the ground. He was humming, oblivious to the unspoken dread hanging in the air.

They all knew what night it was. Hopefully, it would be another month without a demand

Her mother finally sat, smoothing her apron before folding her hands together. “Some stew to keep us warm,” she said, voice light.

The stew tasted good—her mother’s cooking was always heavenly. Their family laughed, ate, and bickered like always—just another evening, just another meal.

If she focused on the familiar rhythm of it all, she could almost forget the iron bolts on the doors, the salt dusting the windowsills.

Sunwoo, swinging his legs beneath the table, slurped his soup obnoxiously.

“Eat properly,” their father muttered without looking up, splitting bread in his hands.

Sunwoo grinned. “I eat properly.” The three-year-old already had a feisty personality.

Y/N snorted. “You sound like the neighbor’s horse.”

Their mother shot them both a look, though her lips twitched. “Sunwoo, don’t play with your food. Y/N, be nice.”

“Why?” Sunwoo asked, still grinning. “Horse eats well.”

Their father sighed, rubbing a hand down his face, but Y/N caught the slight shake of his shoulders—he was holding back a laugh.

For a moment, the heaviness in the room lifted. The stew filled their stomachs, the warmth of the fire softened the night’s chill, and the walls of their home felt safe.

Beyond the glow of their home, where the forest swallowed the last light of day, he watched. A tall figure stood at the treeline, leaning against the bark of a tree, arms folded, his posture deceptively relaxed. Patient. Certain. His dark eyes never strayed from the young woman at the table, her laughter slipping through the cracks in the walls, wrapping around him like a whisper.

She looked so at ease. So unaware.

Jungkook exhaled slowly. He had waited a year, observed her every move, every emotion, and invaded almost every dream.

He had waited long enough.

The dream had become familiar, like a secret she had visited many times before.

She stood near the edge of a dark, still lake. The water stretched out before her, reflecting the faint outline of the waning crescent moon, barely visible, a thin sliver of silver light cutting through the sky. The forest behind her stretched on in shadow, its towering trees reaching out like twisted fingers, enclosing her in a world that felt both familiar and terrifyingly unknown.

A house loomed nearby, she already knew the place— an intriguing structure, yet strangely inviting. Dark glass windows reflected the faint moonlight, glimmering with an eerie, almost unnatural glow. It was a place meant for creatures like him, where the line between what was real and what was not blurred.

The scent of wet earth lingered in the air as she took a hesitant step towards it. And then, it was there—the weight of a hand on her waist, slow and deliberate, as though testing the very limits of her space. Her breath caught in her throat, but she didn’t move. She never did. Not here.

A figure emerged, tall, cloaked in darkness. His form was made of shadows, of smoke, shifting in ways that defied the world she knew. His eyes—though she could never see them clearly—felt like they pierced right through her. His very essence seemed to demand her attention, to pull her closer, even as she fought it.

“Did you miss me?” His voice slid through the air like silk, smooth and dangerous.

She didn’t answer at first, she knew exactly what would come next… and how she enjoyed it everytime. With her silence, the creature pulled her into him. His body, or whatever part of him was tangible, pressed against her. He was warm and cold all at once, like the night itself was alive. She shivered, but not from the chill.

“You ignored me today once again,” his voice murmured, low and dark against the curve of her neck. The touch of his lips there sent a tingle down her spine, a shudder that made her breath catch. His touch was intoxicating She shouldn’t be here. She shouldn’t want this, but she did. His hands slid down her side, claiming her without words.

He pulled her closer, his lips ghosting over her skin. “It’s time for us to be together,” he whispered in her ear, his breath so cold it raised goosebumps on her skin. “Give me your name, and we can end this waiting.”

Y/n felt his fingers trace around her breast, teasing her nipples even with her nightgown separating them. For the past year he has been teasing her body, touching her in places she never thought someone would make her feel good. Always edging, but never completely giving what she needed.

His other hand traced the path of her lower back and moved forward, fingers going straight to her core and teasing her entrance. “Give me what is mine and I’ll give you exactly what you want.”

She gasped, the words dancing on the edge of her tongue. Y/n felt the wetness pooling in the fabric separating his fingers from her core.

His lips were so warm against her skin, making the straps of the nightgown fall down her arms. She wanted to touch him, tangle her fingers into his hair while she delights in the feeling of his mouth in her breast. He made it hard to think, hard to pull away. He felt… real in ways she didn’t understand.

“Your name. It’s the only thing you need to give to me and I’ll give you what you seek” she heard his silky voice, her mind lost in pleasure.

“Y/N…”The name slipped from her lips before she could stop it. The moment it left her mouth, her breath hitched, her chest tightening in horror, as if the very air around her had turned to ice.

His smile—if it could be called as such —spread, and she felt it deep within her, like a seed planted in the dark soil of her soul.

“No…” She stumbled backward, her heart racing in panic, fumbling with her flimsy clothing. The weight of her mistake hit her like a crashing wave. “No, no, no…”

With a sudden force, she pushed him away and turned, running for the house. Her bare feet slapped against the cold earth as she fled, the sound of his footsteps following her, like a silent shadow. She reached the door of the house, her hands shaking as she fumbled with the old wood, throwing it open and slamming it shut behind her.

Y/N shut her eyes closed, trying to disappear if she could. But then, the air grew still. Silent. The shadows no longer moved.

A loud sound woke her up. The clatter of metal—pots, pans. Her mother’s voice called out softly in the house. Y/N blinked, her eyes snapping open. She was back in her room, in her bed, safe. The faint sound of her mother moving about the kitchen lingered in her ears.

It was just a dream…

The Night People don’t come inside.

They never come inside.

But for the first time, Y/N wasn’t so sure.

Y/N’s footsteps echoed softly on the cobbled streets as she made her way to the market. The sun hung low in the sky, casting a rare amber glow over the somber village, but the warmth felt distant. The air was thick with a mix of fear and anticipation, as though the village itself was holding its breath, waiting for something inevitable.

When she arrived at the square, her gaze immediately found the towering Old Tree.

Her heart sank, but only for a moment. Two black marks marred its ancient bark. No one spoke of it directly, but they didn’t need to. The marks were a demand. The Night People requested a woman—any woman.

The offering would be one of The Herd—or, as Y/N had always thought of them, the “people from the barn.” Outsiders, kept in captivity for this very purpose. It was cruel, but the village had long since made their peace with it. It kept them alive.

For a fleeting second, Y/N felt a bitter taste in her stomach. She would have expected more… discomfort, maybe guilt. But that feeling was quickly suppressed, buried beneath something more practical. With the new marks, the village wouldn’t have to sacrifice one of their own. She allowed herself a brief, almost imperceptible exhale.

It was sick, but it was survival.

The others had already lost so much. First Soojin, then Minju, and finally Jeonghan. None of them had deserved it. But the world didn’t care. They had all been given, or taken, as the Night People demanded. It was just the way it worked.

"Y/N!" Wonhee’s voice sliced through the haze of her thoughts.

Y/N turned to see her friend walking toward her, her face taut, a mixture of exhaustion and relief. She spared a glance at the Old Tree, and Y/N watched her eyes flicker with something like dread before she looked away.

“Did you see?” Wonhee asked, her voice low, almost incredulous. “Two marks this time.”

Y/N nodded, almost absently, her gaze flicking back to the tree.

“Yeah,” Y/N replied, her voice emotionless. "I saw."

Wonhee exhaled sharply, shaking her head as she came to stand beside Y/N. Her eyes were wide with something like disbelief, but there was no surprise in Y/N’s gaze. She had seen this before. "I never thought it would come to this," Wonhee continued, her voice barely above a whisper.

Y/N glanced around at the villagers, noting their unease. They were avoiding eye contact, the quiet whispers of their guilt hanging in the air like a fog. They knew what this meant.

“The Herd... They’re people, too,” Wonhee murmured, as if trying to justify the suffering.

Y/N didn’t flinch. It wasn’t her problem. Not really. "It’s better this way," she said, her tone flat, almost clinical. "At least it’s not one of us."

Wonhee shook her head, her lips pressed into a thin line. "It doesn’t make it any less cruel. The village can’t keep using them like that,” she whispered, her gaze drifting toward the barn. “They’re not just cattle, Y/N."

Y/N didn’t look at the barn. Her mind was already far ahead. She couldn’t afford to feel anything for them. It wasn’t just her survival—it was the village’s survival. And if the price was cruelty, so be it.

“I know,” she murmured, though the words felt hollow in her mouth. "But... they’re not the ones we have to protect."

The silence stretched between them, thick and heavy, but Y/N barely noticed. Her thoughts were already elsewhere, moving through the motions of the day.

Wonhee broke the silence. “We kept hearing Jeonghan’s mother every night after he was sent into the woods. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to forget her wails… Her second son in two years," she said quietly, her voice thick with sorrow.

Y/N felt a flicker of something, but it was too fleeting. She had learned not to let herself be affected. There was nothing to be done, after all. “I’m sorry,” she said, not really meaning it. She didn’t know what else to say.

The conversation stilled, and no more words were needed. They both knew the truth. The Night People demanded their sacrifices. The village would give them what was required. And that was all there was to it.

"I need to go back to the farm," Y/N said, her voice breaking the stillness. "I have to get back to work and take care of Sunwoo."

Wonhee nodded, her eyes lingering on the tree one last time. "Take care of yourself, Y/N."

Y/N gave her a tight smile, but her mind was already elsewhere as she turned and walked away, heading toward the path leading back to the farm.

The day wore on, the sunlight beginning to dip below the horizon as Y/N worked tirelessly in the fields. The soil beneath her fingers was familiar, as was the rhythmic motion of plucking weeds from the ground. In the small breaks she allowed herself, she would sit on the grass, her younger brother Sunwoo tucked beside her, his small hands picking at the blades of grass as she brushed the sweat from her brow. She would laugh and joke with him, trying to create a normal environment for him.

But it was when the sun began to sink low, casting an amber glow across the land, that the sense of foreboding returned. The air grew cooler, and the shadows of the trees seemed to stretch longer, like the fingers of something waiting.

"Sunwoo?" she called out, scanning the field, her heart giving a quick, erratic thump in her chest when she didn’t see him nearby. “Sunwoo!” she called again, louder this time, panic rising in her throat.

"Y/N... Y/N, come here!" She heard his voice, too clear and too familiar, carried through the air, but there was no sight of her brother. The urgent call of her name drifting from the edge of the woods, where the trees thickened into darkness.

Her heart skipped a beat, unease crawling up her spine. She looked toward the shadowed line of the forest, but the trees remained still, offering no hint of movement.

It wasn’t like him to wander off, not this far. Her feet moved of their own accord, urgency propelling her forward. She didn’t think, not once, as she ran toward the woods, the trees swaying gently in the evening breeze. The stillness felt… unnatural. The shadows, longer now, seemed to press closer around her, as though they were alive, watching, waiting.

Her pulse quickened. She couldn’t feel Sunwoo, not anymore. Actually, there was no sound at all. The space ahead of her had become vast, dark, lifeless.

And then, she heard it.

A soft chuckle. A voice, smooth like velvet, but so dark it sent a chill through her. “You’re finally here,” it said, low and reverberating.

Y/N froze, the blood in her veins running cold. She recognized the voice, the scent in the air—the smoky, intoxicating fragrance that clung to him, a heady mix of something dangerous. It was him.

She whirled around, her breath catching in her throat. And there he stood, a tall man, face sculpted like an expensive art piece. His dark, penetrating doe eyes—seemingly innocent but filled with an unsettling darkness—locked onto hers. His figure was fluid, like smoke that had taken shape, his presence suffocating, as though the very forest itself bent to his will.

A sharp gasp escaped her lips before she could stop it. “You…” she whispered, her legs trembling beneath her. The shadow man. The one from her dreams. He was real.

"I’m Jungkook, my dear," the man said, a smile curling at the edges of his lips, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “I told you it was time to be fully mine.”

The words echoed in her mind, and before she could comprehend the full meaning, her body reacted on instinct. She turned, heart hammering, and ran. She pushed through the trees, branches scraping at her skin, her breath ragged in her throat. But no matter how fast she ran, the woods seemed to stretch endlessly. Every direction led to the same place—a deepening darkness.

“Y/N...” His voice rang out again, closer now, as if he had always been right behind her, waiting. She could feel the weight of his presence, the pull of it.

Suddenly, she stumbled, avoiding falling to the ground. Her chest rose and fell in quick, panicked breaths as she looked around, her eyes wild, searching for some way out. But there was nothing. The shadows had thickened. The forest had turned into a maze that swallowed her at every turn.

Then, she felt him. His presence so close, just a breath away. His hand brushed lightly over her shoulder, the touch like ice. A shiver shot through her body as his voice echoed in her mind.

“I’ll take you to our home, Y/N,” he murmured, his breath cool against her ear. “You already know the place, been there hundreds of times in the past year.”

“No,” she gasped, trying to twist away from him. “There was no mark on my home, on my window! You can’t take me, I’m not a chosen one” she desperately tried to win her case.

Jungkook’s fingers dug into her wrist, holding her in place with a force she couldn’t break. He chuckled darkly, low and slow. “It doesn’t matter whether a mark was left in your family home, Y/N,” he said, his voice smooth and almost tender. “With or without a mark, you willingly gave me your name. You willingly gave yourself away.”

Her breath hitched as realization struck her like a bolt of lightning. She tried to pull away, but his grip was iron, unyielding.

“No...” she whispered again, the truth settling like a heavy stone in her chest. “I didn’t mean to... I didn’t mean to…”

“You gave me your name, Y/N,” he murmured, his breath cool against her ear. “You belong to me now.”

Jungkook stepped closer, his smile widening, revealing just how much he relished this moment, like he was savoring being able to finally claim her. The prize he’d been waiting for. His lips parted slightly, a twisted, almost gleeful expression crossing his face as he leaned in, his breath cool against her skin.

“You can try to escape, Y/N,” he murmured, his voice low and dangerously sweet, like a predator toying with its prey. “But there’s no way out. You’re mine. You always were.”

The dark gleam in his eyes grew, something feral awakening in the depths of them. He leaned in closer, until his breath was a whisper against her ear. “Your name… it was the last thing you had to give. And now you’ll stay with me forever.”

Her legs trembled beneath her, her body betraying her as she felt a pull toward him, like gravity, an inevitability that made her want to fight even harder. But she knew now. She was bound, marked—not by a visible symbol, but by the act of her own surrender.

to be continued…

#yandere jungkook #jungkook smut #yandere jeon jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook x y/n #jungkook x you #yandere jungkook x reader #jungkook fic #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook imagine #dark fic

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cyborg-franky · 1 year ago

Note

Hello franky san! Hope ur doing okay

Is it possible to ask for comfort hcs of thatch with a s/o who struggles to fall asleep? I’ve been having this problem where my breathing seems to stop when im dozing off, which I then have to get up in my place and gasp for air. It goes on and on like that the rest of the night till I somehow manage to finally sleep. Sometimes I never even go back to sleep coz im just scared it will happen again.

It’s kind of a personal thing and I apologize to you and everyone else if it’s not something that u can relate to.

I hope u having a great day🩷

First of all. I think you MIGHT have sleep apnea [spelling?] and should go to a sleep doctor. That sometimes happens to me and my wife shakes me awake. It's pretty common and I think in severe cases you need a machine to help you at night. I am not a doctor I just know a big bunch of people who have this issue! I would go and check it out ASAP <3

Thatch x GN Reader SFW

Thatch was the type of person who would be fast asleep the moment his head touched the pillow. He was always out like a light, ready to rise with the sun.

But you were his complete opposite. You struggled to fall asleep and even struggled to stay asleep.

Every day, you wake up groggy and feeling unrested, yet you get ready for your job, doing your duties as a member of the 4th division. Thatch knew you had a hard time resting, so he would try to go easy on you in the kitchen, leaving you to simple chores that didn’t involve anything sharp or hot.

Thatch noticed you tried to avoid going back to sleep sometimes, too shaken up from gasping for air, much like a man who’d been drowning, breaking the surface of the waves to gulp in a breath.

He would comfort you as much as he could, and you’d feel a large, rough hand on your back, rubbing you gently and soothing you as your heart raced. You sighed and closed your eyes, trying to focus on his voice, trying to ground you.

“Shh, shhh, darlin’, it's okay.” he cooed and started to snuggle behind you when he was sure you wouldn’t mind his body against yours when your breathing normalized, and you didn’t seem to be in a state of panic.

“Ugh, I hate it, Thatch. I’m so worried I won’t wake up again,’” you confessed and turned to face him, your tired eyes meeting him as he hummed in thought. We should take you to talk to Birdbrain tomorrow. It’s not right to keep this to yourself. Ya never know. He might have the answers,” he said as he carried on rubbing your back.

You nodded only half here as your eyes grew heavy. You kept trying to wake yourself each time you heard your breath deepening in a light snore.

Thatch sat up, leaning against the headboard, his hand now running through your hair, fingers playing with the strands.

“I’ll stay awake and make sure you're okay. How does that sound?” he offered, and you blinked.

“But won’t you be tired?” he shrugged his shoulders and chuckled. “I’ve already slept a near-full night. Let me stay up these last few hours, and if you stop breathing, I’ll be here to make sure you get up. How's that? My word!”

You felt warmth bloom in your chest. He was such a wonderful man, a perfect partner. “Really?” “Anything for you, darling. You just have to promise me you will see the doctor tomorrow.”

“I promise,” you sleepily mumbled and got comfy.

“Sleep tight,” he said, and you were already snoring softly, feeling safe with him.

#one piece x reader #one piece reader insert #one piece x you #sfw #one piece #gender neutral reader #one piece x yn #one piece x yourname #one piece x y/n #one piece imagine #thatch op #thatch #thatch one piece #thatch x reader #thatch x you #thatch x yourname #thatch x y/n

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rollinouttahere-writes · 7 days ago

Text

Solitude Chapter 2

Platonic Yandere Whitebeard Pirates x GN Child Reader

5.8k words

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

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

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

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

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

Weird.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Doubt it…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No.”

Thatch sulks again. He's good at that.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Berries.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

S… St… Str… Wait-

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

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

“Paid?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Everything stops.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I saw it!”

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

“I saw it!”

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

“I saw it!”

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

“I saw it!”

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

“I saw it!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey. You feeling better now?”

You just stare at him blankly.

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

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

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

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

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

#yandere one piece #one piece x reader #one piece x y/n #one piece x you #portgas d ace x reader #thatch x reader #marco the phoenix x reader #izou x reader #whitebeard x reader #portgas d ace #thatch one piece #marco the phoenix #izou one piece #whitebeard one piece #edward newgate #yandere #platonic yandere

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alexa-yukiyu · 1 year ago

Note

hi! Do you mind writing something with a 3y/o child reader and the white beard pirates? Like specifically everyone is celebrating something, and then child reader slips and gets hurt and starts sobbing really loud and all the pirates are panicking?

Parties and Falls (Whitebeard pirates x male!reader)

A/N here we go! And along with this being a request I also wanted to dedicate it to @henrioo since I saw you were feeling down because of the lack of male readers out there and I wanted to cheer you up, this is not one of my best works but im hoping I can make more pieces so that you and all the male readers out there can enjoy and feel included!

Reader here is replaced by Dokucha which means reader in japanese

Dividers by @/saradika

With a Yonko as a captain and one such as infamous as Whitebeard, one who was able to fight on equal ground with the Pirate King Himself, people usually thought of the Whitebeard pirates as a fearsome foe, and although it was true that you would not want them as foe, behind all that lied a close knitted family who all enyoyed one thing, partirs

With a whole bunch of pirates who could drink whole barrels of alcohol, they are the kind of crew that would throw whole week-long parties with everyone involved, and that was the case right now

Dokucha was not the exception. He always had a grand time when all his brothers were brought together on such a happy occasion

He wiggled his way around his brothers to reach the bar where Ace was currently sitting, struggling slightly to climb the top of the stool.

“Ace-nii, can I drink some of that too?” The boy asked, pointing to one of the pints the flame user was currently downing

“Sorry, lighting bug, you can’t have this.”

He pouts, leaning his head on the counter

“But everyone is having it!”

He chuckles

“Sorry, Dokucha, tell you what, how about you ask Thatch to prepare you something? I'm sure he can whip up something delicious for you.”

The boy lights up at that

“Really?!” He beams, the grin on his face quickly returning

“Yes, really, and make sure to thank him. He should be on the kitchen.”

“Okay!” He exclaimed, excited at the promise of a beverage; however, it was in his excitement that he forgot he was on top of a stool; losing his balance, he fell to the ground, the sound of the chair hitting the wood below being drowned by the cries of the child, the crew quickly sobering up at the sound

The entire crew looked down at the small child who was now crying on the ground; some were already rushing to get to him

Izou was the first to reach the small boy, picking him up and giving him a hug, trying to calm him down

He wraps his hands around his brother, their cries still ringing around the Moby Dick

“H-Hey Dokucha, hey, hey, don’t cry, lighting bug, it’s okay. We’re going to take care of you,” Ace reassures him, gently patting the head of the boy

“It hurts!” He cries

“Where does it hurt?” Ace asks as Marco makes his way over to the two

Thatch follows behind, rushing over

He simply points to his hands, small scratches littering them from their fall to the floor

Marco sighs, igniting his flames and holding Dokucha’s hands, healing all the small scratches. However, this did not lessen the cries of the small boy as tears rolled down his cheeks, hiccups escaping him.

“Buttercup, you’re okay. Look, see, your hands are all better now,” Vista says, joining his brothers in trying to calm down their youngest frowning when he shook his head and dug his head deeper into Izou’s shoulder as he continued crying and screaming

Whitebeard, who so far had been watching the whole ordeal play out, stepped in, gesturing at Izou to hand him over, who obliged

Whitebeard smiled gently at the crying boy in his hand

“There, There was that scary?”

He nods

“Y-yeah, and it hurt.”

“Well, you are alright now; look at you; there isn’t a scratch on you now.”

He cries, looking at his hands, and just as he had told him, there were no marks on his hands

“Breath in and out for me, yes, just like that, see you are okay.”

He sniffles, rubbing his eyes dry

“It was really scary.”

“It was scary, huh?” he says with a soft smile

“You feel better now?”

He nods smiling

“Thank you, PaPaw”

Again it’s not my best works but I really hope you enyoyed and @henrioo I really hope this was able to cheer you up a little, and I will try to write more male!reader from now on!

Taglist:

@imaginarydreams

@amethystviolin

@h0n3y-l3m0n05

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hannahbarberra162 · 1 month ago

Text

Hysteria, Part 2 (Mean Victorian Marco x reader AU)

18+ MDNI | on Ao3

Previous chapter

Unimportant: the pattern on Detective Marco's tie is reminiscent of WB's Devil Fruit. I *might* look at this picture too often.

Thank you to @gouraminnow and @quinloki for beta-ing! Thank you to reddit user fleursea for your comment that I used to write the flower bit.

“I - the w-wedding? I don’t - I’m not s-sure -” you stammered, unsure what answer you could give to Marco that would forestall his plans. Your father’s pained moaning was still resounding down the hallway along with your mother’s whispered words trying to soothe him. You turned your head towards the familiar voices but Marco’s hand on your chin pulled your attention back to him.

“Most of my siblings are still in town due to the Gala as well as our engagement. It would be prudent to capitalize on the timing, don’t you agree? The wedding will be two days from now yoi. I have already made the preparations, all you need to do is select a gown and attend,” Marco said with a smile, as if he hadn’t just beaten your father within an inch of his life. You tried to pull your hands back from the tight grip he had your fingers in but it was futile.

“Marco, I -”

“Wonderful, glad you agree my Dove. Come along now, we’re leaving,” Marco said, dropping one of your hands but retaining the other. Mr. Newgate stirred from the chair, rising to his full terrifying height as Marco pulled you along the foyer to the door.

“W-wait! Where are we going? I - it’s the night! I can’t stay with you,” you cried, pulling on his arm to try to slow his pace. Marco looked at you and smiled, like you were still the silly young girl under his boot.

“You won’t be staying in my chambers of course, that wouldn’t be proper for an unmarried couple yoi. We won’t be doing anything as man and wife until after the wedding, and my family will be my witnesses to that fact. You’ll be staying with my sister, Whitey. I’ll have one of the servants come and collect your things for the night,” Marco replied, tucking his cane under his arm as if the matter was completely settled.

“Your sis -no, I can’t, this isn’t right!” you hissed, still attempting to flail away from his hold. Marco stopped walking momentarily, allowing his enormous father to pass and hold the door open for the two of you, the night air blowing against your exposed neck.

“You’re not suggesting you remain overnight here, in a house without adequate guardianship, in a room without a door, correct? As your betrothed, I object to circumstances that would fail to keep you safe, as is my right yoi,” Marco huffed, as if you were the unreasonable one. “I won’t ask again, dear, we’re leaving. We wouldn’t want to keep my siblings waiting.”

Despite your continued verbal protests Marco manhandled you into the large Newgate carriage that was parked outside your house. The six horses pulling the carriage were the largest you’d ever seen and you backed away as one tossed its beautiful mane of hair. Marco’s father sat across from the two of you on the significantly larger bench while you were so close to Marco on the second that your legs were touching. You tried to push yourself as close as you could to the side of the carriage but Marco’s arm around your shoulders didn’t allow for much maneuvering.

The carriage was finer than anything you’d ever been in, regardless of size. Your parents liked to pretend that they were well off wealthy socialites but the reality was that they had to scrimp and save for every event on the calendar. They had one maid, who worked only two days a week, and made sure to have company during those times so others would be waited on by their “servant.” The rest of the time you functioned as the maid and your parents had you going on errands during off hours to avoid meeting other people you knew. It was frustrating and you didn’t see the point but you abided by their rules. They didn’t have a carriage as they lived near the city center so the few you’d been in had been rented cabs when the occasion called for it.

Mr. Newgate said nothing while Marco told you details about the wedding he’d already planned. It seemed he had thought of everything from the venue, to the guest list, to the musicians who would be playing during the ceremony. You weren’t really listening - you stared out the window of the carriage as it took you beyond the borders of the town. It had started drizzling, the light rain making the sky look darker than the hour should have called for. Marco’s fingers were suddenly gripping your jaw, forcing you to look at him. Marco’s smile was as tight as his fingers on your face - Marco did not tolerate being ignored.

“As I was saying, I already submitted the flower arrangement for the ceremony. For our first anniversary you’ll be able to give your input, but right now time is of the essence. Would you care to know the flowers I selected yoi?” he asked, though you knew the answer he wanted to receive. You nodded mutely as Marco’s fingers drummed on your jaw, though in truth you could not have cared less.

“I selected heliotrope, red salvia, blue hyacinth, tarragon and violet. A charming combination, is it not?” Marco asked with a cold smile. Blinking, you thought through the meanings of the flowers that you’d been taught in finishing school. Your face paled as you thought of each flower - heliotrope represented eternal love, red salvia was forever, blue hyacinth meant constancy, tarragon lasting interest and violet was faithfulness. “What do you think?” he asked, removing his hand from your mouth so you could answer. You swallowed thickly, acutely aware of his proximity to you.

“A fine selection. B-but how did you get such flowers together at this time? They’re from all different seasons,” you asked quietly. Marco grinned and patted your thigh over your dress.

“After our wedding I’ll reveal some of my secrets, little Swan,” he said, his eyes blazing. You lapsed into silence as the carriage turned into a long drive flanked by trees. Through the mist of the rain, the oil lit lampposts seemed more like will o’ the wisps, ready to lead you astray rather than to the mansion in the back. As the carriage traveled down the path Marco’s grip on your arm tightened as if to warn you from bolting.

“This is our familial home, Doveling. I hope you find it to your liking, though don’t get too comfortable. After our wedding we’ll be moving into our own residence closer to town, something better suited to newlyweds. Won’t that be exciting yoi?” he asked. You nodded, wishing you could pry Marco’s fingers from your arm. The carriage stopped in front of the large mansion, the front of which looked like a large angry whale emerging from the water. The driver opened the carriage’s cabin doors as Marco put on his hat and grabbed his cane. Looking at you, he patted your hand.

“I’m going to ensure everything is set for your arrival yoi. Stay,” he commanded, as if you were a dog. Marco and his father exited the carriage as you sat by yourself in the light of the oil lamps at the front of the house. Now that you had more room, you wanted to shift on the bench and make yourself more comfortable while you waited for Marco to return. But you found yourself unable to move from the position you had been in. It felt like the same magic that kept your ring on your finger - you were able to move your limbs but if you tried to stand up or adjust your seated position it was like you were glued to the spot. You felt like a butterfly, pinned in place beneath a glass frame for observation. Distressed, you tried to move with increasing strength but weren’t able to make headway. By the time the door to the carriage opened again, you were sweating and could feel your cheeks were hot with frustration but you were in the exact same place Marco had told you to stay.

“Come along now, everyone’s waiting inside,” Marco said, extending you a hand. You grasped it, expecting to continue to be glued to your seat but to your surprise you moved as easily as if nothing had happened. Your mouth was agape as you got out of the carriage, reaching behind you to touch the ordinary seat bench that had been your ruin just moments before.

“Any problems, pet?” Marco asked, waiting for you to complete your inspection of the average carriage.

“N-no, I just - I was stuck - it wasn’t -” you puzzled aloud, taking one last glance back at the mystery carriage as you walked arm in arm with Marco towards the well lit mansion.

“There, there. A lot has happened tonight yoi. Perhaps you are feeling addled and need to lie down?” Marco asked with concern, his hand resting on your forehead to take your temperature. You shook your head as he brought you closer towards the front doors.

“No, thank you. I - the chair -” you stammered, still confused. Marco gave you an indulgent look as a servant opened the doors to the mansion and kissed your forehead.

“We can talk about it later. For now, come meet my siblings. Some you may recognize, some you may not. They all know you, dear wife-to-be,” he said, his teal eyes dancing with amusement. With that you left the mystery of the carriage for another time as you saw the hundreds of men packed within the front hall, talking with one another, drinking tankards of ale, chatting and laughing. The din was overwhelming and you could hardly breathe from the cacophony of so many burly men in one place. Mr. Newgate cleared his throat from the back of the hall and the men faced him quieted back down to a low murmur, almost in unison.

“Marco has an announcement,” Mr. Newgate boomed, sitting down in a throne like chair. A tall man with a facial scar handed him a huge wooden tankard as Marco began to speak.

“Brothers! I present to you my fiance!” Marco said with joy, raising your hand to his lips. You flushed as you were suddenly launched into the center of attention, hundreds of men roaring their congratulations to Marco on his engagement and coming to clap him on the back. You were being pressed in on all sides by gigantic mean, all larger than the society men you were used to. They looked a rough lot, which didn’t bother you of its own, but you already felt off kilter because of the events of the night. Besides, you had a feeling that though Marco looked like a city gentleman, he was cut from the same cloth as his brothers.

Through it all Marco held onto you as tight as if he had talons, never letting you stray from his side. Men came by and gave you courteous bows or tipped their hats to you, asking you various polite questions. None of them looked all that similar, both not to each other and not to Mr. Newgate. It was yet another mystery to have to unravel at a later time. Now you were being sandwiched between Marco and his brother Thatch, who had brought Marco spirits to drink from small glasses. As Thatch drank, you thought you recognized him from somewhere.

Looking down at you from his superior height, Thatch gave you a toothy grin. “Don’t recognize me then, Love? We talk about every other week, yeah?” His unique accent had you honing in on exactly how you knew him - he was the butcher you went to when the maid was not available to run errands. He had seemed a nice enough man, though you really only exchanged small talk as you purchased your wares. In the shop his hair was covered but here it was in a fine style, extending way beyond his head in a follicular feat.

“No, it’s not that - I’m sorry, it’s just that sometimes seeing others in different contexts -” you were cut off by a raucous laugh from Thatch.

“No worries, Lass. I know you’re not a stuck up rich lady like the lot of ‘em. Guess I never mentioned my brother to ya, eh?” You gave a half hearted smile as Marco patted your arm. If you had known Thatch was Marco’s brother you would have avoided his shop altogether, you thought grimly.

“No, I don’t think so,” you said, trying to take a step back and put some space between you and the large men. Marco’s cane gently tapped the back of your calves in a reminder to stay in place.

“Nah, wanted to keep an eye on you through the months. Marco’s orders, even though I’m older than him. Little brother thinks he can order the older around, why he wanted me to -”

“Alright, enough of that,” Marco said primly as Thatch threw you a wink. “I believe my fiance is tired after tonight’s ordeal. Perhaps I’d best be getting her to bed. Is Whitey still here?” Marco asked, scanning the crowd. You took a moment to think over Thatch’s words - Marco had been watching you for years via Thatch - assuming his other brothers hadn’t as well. How long had Marco been planning your future together? You thought you’d done an OK job avoiding him in society but Marco’s obsession seemed to run deeper than you’d expected.

“Nah, left yesterday. Said she had to get back to her new home. Room’s set up though if you’re going to be about,” Thatch said with a grin as he swigged from a flask you hadn’t seen before. Marco rolled his eyes but sported a small smile as he yanked the flask from his brother.

“No need to be crude. No such offenses will be had, I’ll be in my own chambers. We’ve waited so long, two nights won’t make a difference,” Marco said, now taking his own drink from the silver flask. You saw the same symbol etched into the side of the flask that you’d seen on the top of Marco’s cane, a jolly roger of sorts that sported the same mustache as Mr. Newgate. You wanted to ask about it but Marco started towing you off towards the wings of the manor.

“Good night, you rowdy lot,” Marco waved to his family with affection. You remained silent, taking in the loud crew as Marco pinched your arm gently.

“G-good night,” you called out, your voice shaky. You felt like a lamb in a den of wolves as dozens of men and Mr. Newgate called out their polite replies. Swallowing thickly, Marco brought you from the main social hall along down a long hallway, the walls decorated in a beautiful icy blue wallpaper.

“You did well, Sweetling. No one expects you to remember everyone’s names right away, it can feel overwhelming to meet my family,” Marco said with a chuckle. “I wouldn’t be surprised if you were slightly out of your mind after meeting so many new family members. This was Whitey’s hall before she went to found her own family. I hope her furnishings are to your liking,” Marco said, opening a pale blue door with white trim while keeping his hand on your lower back.

The room was pleasant enough, you supposed. Moonlight revealed a large bed with a canopy, a bay window with curtains gently wafting in the night breeze, a bathroom, a chaise lounge, a vanity, and a chest of drawers. It was nicer than your room at home but you weren’t planning on staying the night. As soon as Marco left you alone, you were going to scrounge for any resources you could find and make your escape. The chest on the floor was one of your own so someone had gone through your things at your residence and brought them to you just like Marco had said. Seeing your belongings in Marco’s house had you feeling like your freedom was slipping through your fingers every moment you remained in his company.

You walked towards the lounge and sat down, ready to take off your shoes. Your eyes widened as Marco shut the door behind himself, walking towards you in long strides on the soft, lush carpeting. Nervously, you stood up from the lounge and walked backwards away from him, keeping Marco in your sights at all times. You’d never been alone in private with a man before, not since your childhood meeting with Marco all those years before.

“I thought you said we were going to wait for our wedding, that n-nothing will happen. I-it wouldn’t be proper -” you said as you continued to retreat away from Marco.

“Relax, Doveling. I am saving our first kiss for our wedding day,” Marco said as he rested his cane against the bed and continued to advance towards you. Your back hit the wall behind you as you ran out of room to flee. You turned your head to find an escape path but were brought short as Marco put one of his hands beside your face, looking down at you like a wolf surveying prey. You flushed as he leaned in closer, putting your hands against his chest to keep him at bay.

“Then what -”

“I am saving our first kiss on the lips for our wedding. That doesn’t mean I won’t kiss you elsewhere,” Marco cooed, leaning over you to brush his lips against your neck. You tried to push him away but his body was made of pure muscle. Your breath hitched as his lips met your bare skin, a sensation you’d never felt before. His soft skin met your own as he kissed up and down the column of your neck, making you shiver. You didn’t want to feel anything from his attentions but his tongue caressing such intimate spots had you shifting on your feet and sighing quietly. Raising your shoulder, you sought to deny him access to your neck.

“It might behoove you to remember your place beneath me before we marry, Doveling,” Marco murmured. You tried to hide your whimper but it turned into a squeak as you felt him fisting his hand in your hair and moving your head to the side to grant him access to your skin.

“As your husband, you will not be able to deny me that which I want yoi,” he advised, his teeth nipping your neck in between kisses to your fevered skin. You screwed your eyes shut as his other hand moved from the wall behind you to snake around your back to hold you still. A small whine escaped your lips as Marco continued to kiss you, moving down towards your decolletage and back up the other side of your neck. He used his fist in your hair to move your head like a doll, while his large body caged you against the wall.

Your chest felt hot as Marco bit your earlobe, his splayed hand starting to rove over your back. Everywhere he touched felt like a brand, like a stain upon your skin that would never leave. Even though you were in the same clothes as before, you felt naked before Marco as your hands twisted in his fine shirt, unable to do much more than take what he was choosing to give you.

“Please,” was all you whispered, unsure what you were asking for. You yelped as Marco suddenly bit your shoulder hard enough to break the skin underneath the strap of your dress. This bite burned; it wasn’t like the pleasant bite he’d given your earlobe. This felt like an animalistic claiming and your hand came up to touch the wound, coming away with spots of your blood. He removed your fingers from the bite, squeezing them gently as his large palm engulfed your own.

“It seems a wild, flighty thing can be taught manners after all yoi,” he stated, licking his lips to remove your blood from them. You were afraid Marco would maul you again but instead he smoothed the strap to your dress back down and stood back at his full height. Stepping away from you, he walked around the bed and grabbed his cane, tucking it under his arm once more.

“Good night, Doveling. Tomorrow awaits,” he said with an enigmatic smile. You knew you must look a sight, your face hot and chest heaving with breathlessness, your hair disheveled from where he’d gripped it, a small trickle of blood pooling on your shoulder. Marco looked collected and calm as ever as he gracefully left your room, the door shutting with a soft click.

Surprisingly, the bedroom door wasn’t locked. You knew because you’d checked it several times, opening and shutting it softly while taking small peeks out into the hallway. The lights were still on in the main hall and you could hear Marco’s brother talking and laughing even as the hours continued to creep by. You had searched the room but hadn’t found anything more useful than a ball of twine, a silk stocking, and a small hand mirror. You’d taken all three just in case any of them proved to be useful during your escape.

Deciding against using the door to the hall, you slipped outside to the small balcony. Leaving through the mansion was too obvious and you didn’t know the layout enough to get away if you needed to run from other people. The men were still partying, the raucous noises indicated they were well in their cups. You needed to have Lady Luck on your side but maybe, just maybe, you’d be able to make it to freedom if they were all distracted. The room Marco had given you was on a mezzanine level, so you’d be able to jump off the railing into the soft grass and not hurt yourself. Looking at the full moon’s light on the gardens, you wished it had been any other time of the lunar cycle so that you had more protection from roving eyes but you’d have to risk it.

You scanned the area for several minutes and were reasonably certain no one was around. The night was silent save for a few errant bird calls and the sounds of the party further in the mansion. You carefully stepped up onto the marble banister, crouching down to minimize the effect of your fall. You were grateful now that you had been an avid tree climber as a child, the skills transferable to escaping mansions with possessive fiances.

Jumping down in a crouch, you were able to stick the landing with ease. You quickly dodged behind a nearby tree, your eyes darting to ensure you were still unseen. The drive back to the main road was to your left, it would be easiest to dart between the trees until you were off the property.

Keeping your eyes trained on the mansion, you bolted towards the next tree in the drive, only to bump into an obstacle you knew wasn’t there just a moment ago. You felt pressure on your neck as a large hand pulled you to standing.

“Oh, little Dove, what am I to do with you yoi?” Marco cooed, blue flames flickering across his shoulders as he tapped his chin in thought. Your mouth was agape as your heart beat furiously. He hadn’t been there a second ago, he hadn’t… and what were those flames? How was he not burning..? Perhaps it was some trick of the light of the moon but the flames seemed to be emanating from his body rather than merely atop it. You took a step back as the shadow from the flames now brought a sinister look to Marco’s face.

“I - I…M-Marco,” you whispered, unsure what he held in store for you in consequence of your actions.

“Ah, ah. You’ve caused enough trouble for now, little Dove. Stay still,” he commanded as your feet froze to the ground. You could still move your torso and arms but didn’t have much purchase since your bottom half wasn’t moving. Marco had some kind of white jacket with straps draped over his arm and now that you weren’t mobile, he began folding you into it like a child. It looked like he was putting it on backwards as he began pulling the jacket onto your arms, the high neckline covering the bruises he had left you earlier.

“M-marco, I’m s-sorry -” you said as he wound your arms around your torso in an x shape. The sleeves didn't have holes for your hands, they ended in cloth and straps, which Marco tightened behind you. Even though your arms weren’t frozen like your feet and legs, you couldn’t move them from their crossed position as Marco tightened the leather straps.

“Don’t say things you don’t mean yet, Doveling. You’re sorry you were caught; that’s a good start yoi. We shall see what else you atone for. Come along,” Marco said, picking you up like a piece of luggage and throwing you over his shoulder. His arm held you as tight as a band of iron but there wasn’t much for you to do either way since he’d immobilized your arms. He started walking back towards the carriage rather than towards the mansion.

“Where are you taking me?” you asked, your eyebrows hiking up as Marco’s long strides took you further from the house.

“Somewhere long overdue.”

Taglist: @mfreedomstuff @epochal-oracle @jk--47

#x reader #marco the phoenix #tw yandere #marco op #whitebeard crew #thatch one piece #op x y/n #reader x marco #obsessive yandere #yandere marco #victorian au

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