#zoan fruit reader | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sunandflame · 3 months ago

Text

Heat of the Beast

The signs had been there all day, subtle but unmistakable — the kind of tension that coiled low in your gut and whispered of danger wearing the face of desire.

Warnings: nsfw, rough smut, rutting instinct, size difference, mild breeding kink, use of devil fruit (zoan hybrid form), possessive dominance, tbh it's pwp

Word Count: 3275

Pairing: Rob Lucci x AFAB!Reader

crossposted on AO3

The signs had been there all day.

You had seen it in the way Lucci watched you — those intense, slow drags of his green-gold gaze across your body like he was memorizing you, branding you. The way his fingers lingered too long against yours when passing a cup of tea, the way his breathing had become almost imperceptibly deeper, slower, more deliberate.

Heat.

You knew what it meant by now. Once a month, his animal blood overpowered even his iron will, dragging him down into a storm of instincts he usually despised. He hated losing control. Hated being reduced to nothing but the primal urge to take, claim, breed.

Tonight was worse.

You could feel it in the air between you — thick and heavy, almost buzzing. And even now, as you sat on the bed, pretending to read, you could feel him looming just beyond the doorway. Watching you.

Waiting.

"Lucci?" you called softly, heart pounding, pretending not to hear the way your own voice trembled slightly.

There was a long pause — and then the slow, deliberate thud of his boots across the floor.

He stepped into the room, and the air shifted immediately.

You swallowed hard.

He wasn't fully shifted — not yet — but you could see the signs: the sharp gleam of his pupils narrowing into slits, the slight enlargement of his canines when he exhaled slow through his teeth, his muscles tensed and coiled tight under his black shirt.

When he spoke, his voice was lower than usual — rough, thick with restraint. "Come here."

Not a request. A command.

You set the book down with trembling fingers and stood. Your steps were hesitant — not from fear — but from the electricity that seemed to snap between your bodies as you approached.

You barely had time to inhale before he seized your wrist — gently, but with a grip that brooked no argument — and pulled you close, pressing your smaller form against the broad, tense wall of his chest.

He was burning to the touch. Heat radiated off him in waves. His scent — deep, musky, wild — curled around you like smoke, dizzying and addictive.

His head dipped low, his lips ghosting the shell of your ear.

"You smell like you want me," he murmured, voice a dangerous rasp. "You know what I need. Don't you?"

You nodded weakly, breath hitching, body already betraying you — arching into him, thighs pressing together.

He chuckled low — a dark, rumbling sound from deep in his chest — and his hand slid possessively down your side, over the curve of your waist, pausing at your hip. Holding you there.

"Say it," he ordered softly. "Tell me you’ll let me."

You shivered — half from nerves, half from the way his dominant presence swallowed you whole.

"I’ll let you," you whispered, barely audible. "I’m yours."

A growl vibrated against your body in response — approving, pleased — and then suddenly the heat between you ignited.

His body began to shift against yours — taller, broader, heavier — as the beast inside him took over. Muscle thickened under your palms; black-spotted fur prickled against your fingertips; claws pricked the bedsheets when he caged you against the mattress.

His hybrid form was terrifying — breathtaking — devastating.

A massive leopard-man looming over your much smaller frame, his green eyes burning down at you with pure, unfiltered hunger. He bent over you, nudging your cheek with his nose, inhaling deeply.

"Mine," he rumbled — a savage, reverent declaration.

You whimpered when his clawed fingers gripped your thighs and pushed them apart — rough but careful — as though he barely trusted himself not to tear you apart.

His mouth grazed the sensitive spot below your ear — and for a moment, he simply hovered there — breathing hard, muscles trembling with restraint.

"Last chance," he rasped, voice breaking with need. "Tell me no, and I’ll walk away. I’ll fucking tear myself apart if I have to. But if you say yes..."

You tilted your head back, throat bare to him, surrendering completely. "Yes," you breathed.

And that was all it took.

He surged forward — kissing you bruisingly hard, hands everywhere — dragging you down into the primal, raw hunger he'd bottled up for too long.

You moaned into his mouth as he manhandled you effortlessly — lifting you, spreading you, grinding the massive, throbbing heat of him against your core through the thin barrier of your panties. Still clothed — but barely — the friction between you was overwhelming. You could feel the hard outline of him, huge and leaking through his pants, rutting against you in slow, desperate rolls of his hips.

Your skirt bunched up around your waist; your panties were soaked through in minutes.

Lucci's claws shredded the front of his own trousers enough to free himself — thick, slick, dripping precome already — and he pressed the blunt, hot head against your trembling entrance.

Still fully clothed, panting, grinding against each other like animals in the dark. You clutched at his spotted fur, nails digging deep, gasping his name.

"Lucci—"

"Shh," he growled against your throat, grinding harder, his cock catching against your clit just enough to make you sob.

"Take it," he rasped. "Be good for me. Let me have you."

One savage thrust — and he buried himself halfway inside — the stretch nearly unbearable, so big it stole the breath from your lungs. He froze immediately, a guttural snarl ripping from his throat as he fought the urge to slam into you.

"Too tight," he growled against your shoulder. "So good—fuck, you're good—"

He rocked his hips in tiny, controlled thrusts — barely moving — stretching you slowly, agonizingly, forcing your body to take every thick inch.

Your legs trembled, wrapped around his waist.

Every movement was clumsy, desperate, still fully clothed, driven by pure animalistic need.

Lucci's mouth latched onto your throat — not biting, but hovering dangerously close — and his entire body shook with the effort of holding back enough not to hurt you.

"Mine," he rasped again. "Always. Forever."

You could only nod helplessly — body burning, nerves on fire — as he finally bottomed out inside you, filling you completely, claiming you in the most primal way possible as his cock throbbed deep inside you, buried to the hilt — impossibly thick, stretching you so full it made you whimper breathlessly against his furred chest.

And for one, trembling moment — Lucci didn’t move. He hovered there, shuddering, arms locked on either side of your head, whole massive body tensed like a bowstring drawn to its limit.

You could feel it. The primal, trembling urge inside him to just take you. To rut into you like a wild animal until you forgot your own name. But somehow — barely — he held himself still, teeth gritted, low snarling breaths rasping against your neck.

"Too small," he growled roughly, voice cracked with the effort of restraint. "You're too fucking small—"

You whimpered, squirming helplessly underneath him — but the tiny flex of your hips against him was enough to shatter what little control he had left.

He snapped.

The first thrust wasn't pretty — it was brutal, needy, frantic — a dragging pull-back of his hips that made you keen, made your nails rake helplessly down the thick muscles of his arms. When he drove back into you, it wasn't smooth — it was clumsy, messy, as if he couldn’t not slam back to the deepest part of you, chasing some feral, inborn high.

"Fuck—," Lucci snarled, forehead dropping to press against yours, his whole body shaking.

He pumped his hips in shallow, devastating thrusts — grinding you down into the mattress, holding you like you might disappear if he let go.

Each thrust was a struggle — not because he wanted to stop — but because he wanted to fuck you harder, deeper, rougher than your body could take. He cursed low and vicious under his breath in between every slow, desperate thrust.

Your thighs clung to his waist, trembling, heels digging into the small of his back, trying to keep him there — pressed so deep inside you that you felt him everywhere.

"S-so good," you gasped, arching up into him, sobbing his name.

Lucci snarled — a dangerous, wrecked sound — and bent to crush your mouth under his in a kiss that was less kiss and more claiming.

Teeth scraping.

Tongues tangling.

Breathless, broken gasps between the slamming of hips against hips.

"Say it," he demanded raggedly against your mouth, pounding into you with short, brutal thrusts that made the whole bed shudder. "Say you're mine."

"Yours," you sobbed without hesitation, clinging to him, body clenching tight around the thickness of him.

He lost it.

With a guttural growl, he shoved one huge arm under your waist — dragging you impossibly closer, tipping your hips up at a brutal angle — so he could bottom out even deeper inside you, grinding against your cervix with every desperate thrust.

"That's right," he snarled. "That's right. Mine. Mine. Fucking—mine."

He was rutting into you like he couldn't stop — rough and relentless, making you cry out with every slam of his hips, tears slipping down your cheeks from the overwhelming stretch, the raw burning pleasure.

Your body clung to him, trembling, and it only made him more frantic — chasing the smell of your heat, the slick between your thighs, the desperate way you mewled his name like he was the only thing in the world that mattered.

"Gonna breed you," he growled against your throat, voice raw, almost mindless. "Fill you up. Knot you if I have to. You're mine."

You sobbed something — yes, please, anything — and that was all he needed.

His hips slammed into you faster, messier, all rhythm forgotten — reduced to pure instinct, rutting hard and wild and mindless, grinding you into the mattress with each possessive thrust.

You barely realized you were coming until your whole body convulsed — clenching tight around him — sobbing his name brokenly into the crook of his neck.

Lucci growled— A ragged, feral sound that was half-pain, half-ecstasy — And his hips stuttered once, twice — before he drove himself impossibly deep one last time and came. The heat of it spilled inside you — endless, overwhelming — filling you up so much that you whimpered against his neck, nails raking down his back as he ground against you through the aftershocks.

Even after he came, he didn't stop moving — slow, shallow grinds, refusing to pull out, cock twitching deep inside you, his massive frame caging you down, panting harshly against your throat. Still trembling. Still barely holding back from starting all over again.

You couldn’t breathe. Not properly. Not with the way Lucci’s massive body was pressing you into the mattress, the heat of his skin searing against yours, his cock still sheathed so deep inside you it felt like you’d never be empty again.

He was trembling. Full body, bone-deep shakes — low, ragged snarls rumbling against your throat like he was still fighting himself, even though the worst of his heat had been sated. His arms locked tighter around your waist, keeping your hips pinned flush to his.

You whimpered softly — half overwhelmed, half aching — trying to shift, to ease the heavy stretch where he was still grinding slow, instinctive rolls into your sore, soaked cunt.

The second you moved, Lucci growled — deep, guttural — and shoved himself deeper, grinding into the soft, swollen spot inside you with brutal finality.

"Don't—" he rasped, voice shredded raw from panting and snarling. "Don't move. You're not going anywhere."

You could feel the thick twitch of him inside you — the way his cock swelled slightly, as if even the thought of pulling away made his body rebel. Possessive. Wild. His green eyes, glowing faintly in the darkness, pinned you — the feral glint in them making your heart stutter and your body shiver under him.

Slowly — as if he didn't trust himself — he nuzzled his nose against your neck, dragging in slow, ragged breaths of your scent. You felt the gentle scrape of his fangs skim the soft skin there — not biting, just hovering, threatening.

A reminder.

A warning.

You were his.

You would stay his.

"Smell like me now," Lucci rumbled hoarsely, voice dropping to a dangerous purr. "Inside and out. They’ll know who you belong to."

You whimpered — overwhelmed, trembling, brain foggy from the brutal fucking and the way his weight blanketed you.

Your fingers twitched weakly against his back — still buried in the thick fur between his shoulder blades — and Lucci purred lowly in response, pressing his entire body closer, caging you against the bed as if he could merge you with himself if he just pressed hard enough.

Even soft, even done, there was no escaping him. You were stretched to the brink around him — aching, throbbing — slickness smearing between your thighs, a messy, embarrassing wet heat. But Lucci didn’t pull out. Didn’t let you breathe.

His hips gave tiny, unconscious rocks — not to fuck you, not yet — just to keep himself inside, to keep the bond sealed, to keep your body trembling around his cock until you couldn’t remember what it felt like to be alone. His nose brushed your jaw, a rare, dangerous tenderness in the way he held you — like a wounded animal clutching its mate, afraid you might vanish if he loosened his grip.

"Little thing," he rasped, the words a broken, reverent snarl against your skin. "Took me so well."

You keened softly — overwhelmed, flooded with the heat and praise and the lingering, dizzy ache of being so utterly filled.

He shifted, lowering himself even more until your chest was pressed flush to his — your heart pounding frantic against his much slower, rumbling pulse.

Slowly, gently — he hooked one massive, furred hand under your thigh and hitched it higher around his waist, making your battered core clench weakly around him, earning a low, dangerous growl.

"Fuck—" he gritted out. "Tight still. Don’t squeeze me—"

But your body wasn’t listening — clenching and fluttering helplessly around the thickness of him, still greedy even after being ruined. Lucci’s control frayed further — he pushed into you with a shallow thrust, slow but unstoppable, grinding deep where you were most sensitive. You whimpered, head lolling back against the pillow.

He didn’t stop — moving in slow, aching, endless rolls — dragging his cock along every battered, oversensitive nerve inside you until your thighs were trembling and you were mewling brokenly against his shoulder. It wasn’t rough anymore. It was tender now — brutal in a different way — as if he was trying to mark every inch of you from the inside out, to imprint himself so deep that even time couldn’t wash him away.

The air was hot, sticky, heavy with the scent of sex and sweat and something more primal — something that made your instincts curl inward, pressing closer, submitting without even thinking.

Lucci pressed his forehead to yours, breathing raggedly through his nose, one hand still cupping the underside of your thigh, the other wrapped tight around your back, keeping you caged and motionless under him.

"You’re mine," he whispered, voice wrecked, low, barely human. "Always. Even if you run, little thing. Even if you fight me. You're mine."

You whimpered weakly, nodding — because you couldn’t speak — because it was true — because even if you could have fought him, you never would.

You were his. And he would never let you forget it.

He nuzzled your jaw again, low growls of satisfaction rumbling through his chest as you sagged bonelessly under him — utterly, completely spent — trembling from the overwhelming fullness and the soft, endless way he rutted into you, claiming you over and over, even in the trembling aftermath.

You didn’t know how long he stayed like that — fucking you slow and deep and possessive in the dark, murmuring broken, snarling praises against your skin.

For a long moment, neither of you moved.

The only sound was your broken, shaky breathing against his massive chest, and the low, rumbling growl in his throat that hadn't fully stopped — a deep, vibrating sound of possessive satisfaction and lingering hunger.

You clung to him — fists tangled in the thick fur at his shoulders, face buried in the crook of his neck.

And he buried himself deeper around you, curling his larger body protectively over yours, surrounding you in heat and scent and the heavy, primal thrum of his heartbeat.

His cock still pulsed deep inside you, a slow, lazy twitch of ownership that made you whimper softly — overstimulated, overwhelmed — but somehow craving even more.

You could feel the way his muscles trembled under the fur. Not from exhaustion — no. From restraint. From the brutal, raw effort it took not to flip you over and take you again, harder, rougher, the way his instincts demanded.

Instead, Lucci dragged in a deep, shuddering breath — and pressed his huge, clawed hand between your shoulder blades, cradling you close.

"You’re safe," he rasped into your hair. His voice was rough, ragged — the words almost a plea. "With me. Always."

You nodded weakly, still trembling. One massive hand slipped under your thighs, adjusting you so gently it made your chest ache. He moved slowly, carefully — as if he thought you might break if he wasn't careful enough. Still half-dressed, your skirt pushed up indecently around your waist, your panties hanging loosely from one ankle — but he didn’t seem to notice, or care.

All he cared about was the way you smelled — the way you felt — warm, spent, and utterly his.

His tongue — rougher in this form — rasped slowly over your shoulder, a slow, claiming lick that made you shiver again. Marking you. Scenting you. Binding you to him in ways far deeper than any ring or vow could.

You tilted your head weakly, exposing your throat without thinking. The growl that tore out of him was feral — but somehow gentle, too.

Slowly — agonizingly slow — Lucci shifted back, just slightly: shrinking down from his full hybrid form until he was still larger, still powerful, but more human in shape. Still, his green-gold eyes blazed down at you with naked, possessive adoration.

He cupped your jaw with one clawed hand, thumb stroking your cheek — a soft touch that betrayed the animalistic hunger barely restrained beneath his skin.

"You're too good to me," he murmured roughly.

You blinked up at him, dazed, body still thrumming from the aftermath. "I love you," you whispered hoarsely, voice wrecked from crying out his name.

Lucci stiffened — just for a moment — and then his mouth crashed against yours, devouring you in a kiss that tasted like desperation and devotion. When he finally pulled back, his forehead dropped against yours.

He was breathing hard, trembling slightly. "I almost lost control," he confessed in a low, tortured whisper. "You made me feel—" His voice broke off, strained.

You stroked his jaw with trembling fingers. "You didn’t hurt me," you promised softly. "You never could."

Another deep, shuddering breath from him — as if your words physically relieved something heavy in his chest. Carefully, Lucci shifted again — this time fully back into his human form — and collapsed onto the bed with you, wrapping his massive body around yours.

His green eyes watched you — not cold now, but something devastatingly raw. As if you were the only thing tethering him to the world.

One large hand splayed protectively over your belly, fingers curling as if to shield the most vulnerable part of you from the world. He buried his face against your throat again, murmuring something so low you almost didn’t catch it.

"Mine," he breathed. "Only mine."

You smiled weakly, closing your eyes, letting the heavy warmth of him lull you into a fragile, exhausted peace.Outside, the world spun on — but here, in this dark little cocoon of heat and whispered devotion, you were safe.

Cherished.

Claimed.

This was a little request from @potato-imouto under this post. I hope you liked it sweetheart 😘

414 notes · View notes

karinzany · 6 months ago

Text

SPOILERS FOR CHAPTER 1138 OF ONE PIECE

@shishishi-sunny @wyvernslovecake @theheybarrel

I'm basically going to write what I understood from the last panel.

"The First World", ended 900 years ago - beginning of the Great War and to what we call "the Void Century", and "The Second World" - 800 years ago - the end of the Void Century and the beginning of the World Government rule.

The first world was a technologically advanced world, symbolized by the factory. Humanity used the "Mother Flame" - the "forbidden sun" (represented by the balls of energy carried by the slaves) in their industry. The slaves wished upon their liberation, and from what Vegapunk told us, akuma no mi are the materialization of the wishes of humanity. So the Hito Hito no mi: model Nika came to be. A man-made God was born. The "god of earth" Pluton, a ship that moved using the energy of the Mother Flame caused the big earthquake that sank the world 200 meters (chapter 1115), and only the islands we know today remained. To survive the flood, people and animals got on the Noah ark, just like it happened on the Bible passage that inspired the manga.

I'm also curious about "Vearth", the god of earth in Skypiea.

The serpent of hell can be a reference to Jormungandr or the Leviathan. Maybe in the context of One Piece it is Nerona Imu themselves. Maybe it is a former user of the Yami Yami no Mi that brought darkness and death... Maybe it is just the serpent of Skypiea.

"The god of the forest sent forth demons" - the Devil Fruit tree created an army of Devil Fruit users. "The sun merely spread the embers of war" - Nika/Joyboy/The Sun God lead that army into war, his companions of the Ancient Kingdom: Nefertari Lili, Emet, Zunisha.

"The people of the half-moon" - Kozuki and Minks? - and "the people of the moon" - Shandorans, Birkans, Skypieans? - dreamed of a new Dawn. But humanity, the alliance of the 20 kingdoms, killed the sun, Joyboy, and began their reign of terror.

The God of sea became enraged - the Mermaid Princess Poseidon, Joyboy's dear friend, brought destruction after his passing.

"They could never meet again" - Poseidon was exiled in Fishman Island and Pluton buried under Wano. What about Uranus? I don't know, maybe the Mother Flame itself is Uranus and Pluton is "just" the warship.

About the People of the Moon:

Enel's cover page story is now more important than ever. His ark Maxim is depicted on chapter 1138, since it was probably used by the first moon people to come to the blue sea. It has also been a famous theory that the first Joyboy might have been one of them.

Who is that big Dragon in the middle of the page? I'm not sure. Is that the Forest God? I was reminded of the current Gorosei, and it vaguely looks like Markus Mars, just like the serpent resembles Ju Peter.

"The Third World" is about to end right now. It is a post-apocaliptic world where most people aren't aware of the events of the Void Century. We can see a bunch of characters that are well know to us readers and are destined to bring the End of Times and the Dawn of the New World (which we now now it's is going to be the Fourth): Luffy as Nika, Shirahoshi as Poseidon, Loki representing the Giants apparently, Emet the robot who was a companion of Joyboy, a Tontatta, a Mink, and a series of ships with what we assume have the Ancient Kingdom flag:

I would like to bring attention to a character that was highlighted in a previous moment of the chapter. It looks like a Mink, but I think he is a Zoan User - Yamato in his Okuchi no Makami form, the Guardian Deity of Wano.

Finally the big Demon holding the Sun is Imu, next to a ship with their Holy Knights / the Navy. The world will end with the ultimate battle against the Darkness that wants to extinguish the light of the Sun. And the Sun will emerge victorious and bring a new Dawn.

The drums of liberation will play to the rythim of Nika's heart. The will of D. will be fulfilled at last.

As the late Tom would say:

D. = Don = Dawn

Note: Eiichiro Oda studied about the biggest pirates and navigators in the world, which includes the Portuguese, like Fernão de Magalhães (Magellan) or Bartolomeu Dias (Bartolomeo, Bartholomew Kuma). In Portugal, when we refer to a lord or a lady, we put a D. next to their name, short for "Dom" - Sir/Lord or "Dona" - Dame/Lady. For example, Portugal's first king is called D. Afonso Henriques.

I think Oda did a play on words with Don and Dawn, meaning both the sound of a drum and the Dawn of the New World. So the D. clan are the real "lords" of the world.

#one piece #one piece spoilers #op spoilers #one piece 1138 #one piece spoilers 1138 #one piece theory #my post #sun god nika #luffy #imu sama #skypiea #egghead #vegapunk #elbaf #enel

429 notes · View notes

hannahbarberra162 · 2 months ago

Text

Mating Call, Part 1 (Marco x Reader, dubcon, monster Marco)

18+ MDNI | on Ao3 | the next parts

Summary: The World Government has worked hard to obfuscate an interesting fact about Zoan Devil Fruits since the Void Century. In order for a Zoan Devil Fruit to be awakened, the Zoan user must find and claim their mate in accordance with their nature.

Zoan fruit users are driven to find their mates, seeking someone to fill the gnawing need within them, even if they don't recognize it themselves.

Thank you to @gouraminnow and @sordidmusings for reading through this for me! This whole series is a collab with @sordidmusings who came up with the idea of Zoans needing their mate to awaken their fruit - I'm hoping to write for more Zoans so I'm starting with one of my favorites :3

You had toiled and worked hard for so many years so that your life would be absolutely perfect. All your plans, all your studying and grinding, all the years of work and tests and memorization - all of it had finally paid off and now you were able to do what you wanted most in life.

Absolutely nothing.

Well, that wasn’t quite true.

You did still have to work occasionally as the private physician for CP0, but they weren’t often at Enies Lobby where you lived in the year round sunshine. And even when they were in town, they didn’t usually need any help from you other than routine medical care when they were forced to come into your office. The most intense work you’d done in the past 6 months was examining Hattori when he’d plucked out too many of his own feathers after a long night and you told him to decrease his alcohol intake.

You were double certified as a physician and veterinarian, which is how you landed the particularly high paying gig as CP0’s personal physician. After spending a decade (and small fortune) becoming a human doctor you realized that you didn’t care for people all that much. So you went back to school and became a vet and found the work much more satisfying. The patients were always much sweeter and never lied to you, unlike treating ungrateful humans.

The job had fallen into your lap after you’d been recruited by Sengoku himself. You’d been living in the New World after you graduated from vet school and taking contracts on various islands to see where you’d like to live, hopefully somewhere warm and sunny. Sengoku had burst into the small vet clinic, Yagi baying dolefully in his arms and demanded the help of the most senior vet on the island. You happened to be the only vet on the island, so you took care of his pet goat and gave it topical antibiotics for its case of orf.

After his careful examination of his beloved pet and copious amounts of reassurance that Yagi would be fine, Sengoku asked you a few questions about your background. He said he had the perfect job opportunity for you with your expertise in both animals and humans as repayment for helping Yagi. You hadn’t known what that meant at the time and frankly hadn’t cared when he showed you the salary - for that kind of money and job security you’d be willing to be Yagi’s personal assistant.

It turned out the Marines wanted someone competent in animal and human physiology to be available for the Zoan members of CP0 should they need a doctor. Since you graduated at the top of your class for both, you were a shoe in for the position and started shortly thereafter. You weren’t exactly a Marine since you didn’t go through their ranks but you were a contracted officer in the Medical Corps. You didn’t mind wearing the uniform and you didn’t have to go through basic training so however they justified your expensive salary was on them.

Yes, you were finally living the life you’d always wanted. You bought a small house close to the less inhabited shore of the island in order to have some well deserved privacy after years of living with multiple roommates in cramped apartments near your schools. You would roll out of bed in the late morning, check your snail for messages and find it empty, check your empty mailbox, and meander to the office. By early afternoon you’d be free from work and could pursue your hobbies. Technically you were on call 24/7 for CP0 (hence the high salary) but if they weren’t on the island the most they could do is call in an emergency and you could handle those questions under any circumstances.

Which meant that you spent your leisure time painting, singing, walking on the beach, getting high, and listening to music. Since you were only contracted with the Marines you didn’t have other duties and they couldn’t call you in to do anything beyond your contract. You painted some of the wildlife in the woods by your house, practiced singing some of the songs you heard on the snails and tried out every strain of marijuana you could get your hands on - the latest hit being mariejois-uana. Your life was fantastic and you were finally able to relax after decades of hard work.

Well, mostly. The drive that had gotten you this far in life also forced you to ensure that the animals of the island were at least in good health. After so many years in high pressure environments, you needed a little work to feel like you were a full person. To get your fill of needed stress, you took on vet clients outside of CP0 but it was run of the mill domestic pet issues. It didn’t keep you up at night and you were able to enjoy the fruits of your labors. After so many years of working high stress, low paying jobs, you’d finally hit the jackpot and were able to do jack shit most of the time.

Like today - it was the end of yet another sunny day at Enies Lobby and the cool evening weather was just perfect for opening all your windows, getting high as fuck to listen to the latest Soul King album. You began softly humming the tune to his latest hit as you opened the windows to let in the evening breeze. As the curtains fluttered softly in the night, something sent a shiver down your spine, a rare moment of heebie jeebies. You usually felt safe at Enies Lobby, the base the heart of the Marine Corp and filled to the brim with people who could fight - but something felt off today.

You looked out the window from behind the curtains but didn’t see anything beyond the usual sights of the town in the distance. To get rid of the feeling of eyes on you, you closed the curtain a little but kept the windows open as you rummaged around for the newest Soul King album. You thought you’d left it on the coffee table but it wasn’t there - maybe you moved it into the bedroom? Mariejoisuana was supposed to take you to the highest heights - and made your memory shit too. You walked towards the bedroom to check there when you heard unfamiliar voices talking.

“Just use it man, it’s for the greater good.”

“I dunno, it feels bad. I’ve never used it outside of battle. Kinda feels like I’m just kidnapping a defenseless woman -”

“We are kidnapping a defenseless woman, but it’s for a good reason so -”

“ ShhHH! She’ll hear us and yell and make this whole thing so much harder than it has to be. I’d rather not have to fight 10,000 Marines, thank you very much Ace.”

You didn’t need to hear any more to know that you needed to escape now. There had been some Marine training around threats but you hadn’t really listened to the presentation - you assumed everyone else was. You kept moving swiftly towards your bedroom and thanked the gods your window was already open. You got your leg out the window to jump but hesitated as you looked down. The voices were getting louder but you were scared to make the jump to the ground below. You sat on the windowsill and brought your other leg out. You took a deep breath and prepared to push off -

“ Goddammit! I told you she was trying to escape! Oh no you don’t. Vortex,” a man’s voice said from behind you. You didn’t turn around, too scared to look, and pushed off the ledge. You braced for impact but…there was none. Instead you were being pulled back none too gracefully towards the two men, both of whom you unfortunately recognized. The feeling was completely foreign, like being stuck in honey that was slowly oozing back towards your bedroom. You’d been planning on screaming for help but your mouth snapped shut in the face of the pirates rucking up your nice rug.

Fire Fist Ace and Dark Blade Thatch. Both powerful Devil Fruit users, both with bounties in the billions, and both currently tracking mud in your little house.

The force Thatch was emitting onto you was pulling you back towards him much more rapidly than you anticipated. “W-wait, please, I don’t know what you want - I have some money -” you tried to bargain in the vain hope that’s what they wanted.

“Nah, sorry lady. We don’t need your money, we need your help. Ooh, and this weed,” Ace said, plucking your baggie off the coffee table and stuffing it into his pocket. By now you were practically at Thatch’s side and you renewed your struggles to get away while you spoke. Your arms felt like they were bound to your sides and your feet had no traction against the wood floors as you tried to escape.

“My help? I mean, I’m a veterinarian. Lotsa people can -”

“The Zoan doctor, right?” Dark Blade said, staring at you as he kept you within arm’s reach.

“Um. That’s not - I - I have treated a few Zoan Devil Fruit users, sure, but nothing -”

“For those CP9 fucks, right? Er, I forgot their new name - CP10 or some shit,” Ace said as he looked around your living room. His fingers were running over your music snail as he checked out your albums.

“H-hey, don’t touch! And yeah, I’m the vet - er, doctor for CP0 but I promise I don’t know anything important about them, they don’t even like talking to me -” you really didn’t know any pertinent weaknesses or information about CP0 and if they wanted to know about devil fruits, their own Zoan doctor would know more.

“We don’t care about the cat and dog. We need your help right now, so we’re going. Sorry for this,” Dark Blade said with a frown, his eyes flashing with sympathy. You were distracted by Fire Fist touching your records again, getting his greasy fingers on your pristine records.

“Be careful! Those are gonna break, don’t stack them like that. You gotta hold them upright-” you started to say as you watched Ace piled your records in his hands. “Wait, sorry for what?” you asked, pulling your gaze away from Fire Fist who was totally going to crack one of your favorite records.

“ Black Hole.”

You lolled your head to the side, completely sure you had been squished by Sengoku’s hand yourself. Every part of you ached down to your bones, including your clavicle which you were pretty sure was broken. Maybe you’d had a little too much Divine Departure weed the night before and had fallen or something - that shit always gave you a wicked hangover the next day. Taking stock of your situation, you were abruptly brought to sitting by extremely warm hands. You should talk to them about their fever, you thought as you cracked open your eyes.

Oh, right. Fire Fist Ace.

He had you sitting up against his torso as one of his feet powered the small boat that you were on via fire combustion. It wasn’t Striker, the infamous one person boat you’d been taught to identify on sight by the Marines. This was bigger, a medium sized skiff. His arm was wrapped around you tightly as Thatch prepared something with his back turned to you. The boat was sailing rapidly in the night, jostling you as the hull flew over the waves. There was a storage hatch under the deck of the ship and it seemed large for such a small ship.

“Told ya we shoulda just tied her up, she’s all busted now,” Ace grumbled as Thatch turned to face the two of you. He had a canteen of water and a few pills in his hands. You stiffened against Ace, who took the opportunity to adjust you further upright. He slowed the boat down so you’d be able to drink and talk on the sea as you sailed in the night waters.

“Yeah, maybe you’re right. I didn’t mean to keep you in there so long,” Thatch remarked, reaching to hand you the water and the pills. You recoiled away from him, unsure if the offerings were a request or a demand.

“In where? How long?” you rasped, your throat bone dry. The drops of perspiration on the canteen had you rethinking your refusal as Thatch tried offering it to you again.

“In the black hole. It was only a few days, I didn’t think it would hurt you so badly. Take this, it’s just water and ibuprofen. It’ll help with your injuries,” he explained, handing you the items. You took the pills in your good hand and the canteen in your injured one, the weight of the water pulling on your broken clavicle. You eyed the water and pills skeptically but at this point it wasn’t like you had many other options and you really wanted the water.

“It’s not drugged, promise,” Thatch said, raising his hands with a smile.

“Why would you say that? I didn’t think it was,” you replied, rolling your eyes. The pills looked legit as far as you could tell so you popped them into your mouth with your good arm and switched the canteen to your good hand since you couldn’t raise your arm above chest height without hurting your shoulder more.

“Force of habit I guess? People always seem to think I’m going to drug them,” Thatch said with a sunny smile and a shrug of his shoulders. You grimaced and raised the water to your lips, thankful for the cool liquid coursing down your throat.

“That’s because you do drug them,” Ace said, checking the log pose that was on the arm wrapped around your waist. Thatch scoffed as if he was offended.

“That’s not true! It’s only once in a while, and usually when Marco asks me to. Oh, which reminds me, we should tell you what’s going on,” Thatch said, scratching his goatee. Your stomach sank - Marco the Phoenix was an incredible doctor regardless of his fighting feats. If there was a problem he couldn’t solve you weren’t confident you’d be able to figure it out. In addition to his battle prowess, he also was a formidable physician and often sent letters of dispute to scientific journals when they published bad studies or studies with poorly drawn conclusions. You’d actually gone back and forth with him once on a study about interspecies compatibility in various ecosystems- you still thought you were correct but he had raised excellent points as well. Either way, if there was an issue with Whitebeard, Marco would be the better choice to fix it, not some doctor-turned-vet with a penchant for White Snake weed.

“The Marines aren’t going to pay a hostage fee for me, it’s in my contract,” you explained, taking another sip of the water. It was the best ambrosia you’d ever had after being stuck in that place for unknown amounts of time. You remembered being sucked into a black hole but nothing after that until you reawoke. It was like having a double hangover mixed with the Sunday scaries - not even including the stabbing pains from your shoulder as the boat bounced as it hit waves.

“It’s a little sad they don’t care about you,” Ace said as he adjusted the trajectory of the boat towards something faintly glowing in the distance. “You work so hard for them -”

“I mean, not really,” you interjected with feigned nonchalance. “But yeah, they’re not coming. So if you’re going to kill me or if it's money you want -”

“Again, we don’t need money, and we’re not going to kill you,” Thatch explained, rolling his eyes. “We need help with Marco.” Your eyes narrowed - that wasn’t the answer you were expecting.

“You need me to help Marco the Phoenix with something?” you asked, trying to understand the situation. Ace and Thatch locked eyes and Ace looked away.

“Something like that. Here, eat this. I’m not sure what’s left in the cave,” Thatch said, handing you a sandwich. You closed and set down the canteen to take the sandwich in your good hand. Now that you were up and moving around the pain in your shoulder was growing by the minute even with the ibuprofen.

“What’s with your hand?” Ace asked, poking your shoulder. You hissed in pain and dropped the sandwich into the small puddle of water at the bottom of the boat.

“It’s not ok, I broke my clavicle. Or, you did, I suppose,” you said, fishing the sandwich out of the water and throwing a nasty glance at Thatch. The sandwich was a little wet but you’d eaten worse.

“Sorry about that, I tried to make the dimension with as little gravity as I could. I’m not used to kidnapping non-fighters, all the other doctors before you were other pirates. Marco’ll probably fix it for you,” Thatch assured you. Ace just hummed.

“What do you mean ‘probably’? I thought that was his thing, that he healed people,” you asked, talking with your mouth full of the soggy bread. The meaty sandwich wasn’t too bad, even wet.

“Well…that’s the problem. He would treat you if he was in his human form. Or even his hybrid form. Or even his normal Zoan form. But he’s in a weird version of his Zoan form and we can’t get him to change out of it,” Thatch said, reclining in the little boat. “He won’t talk to us and he won’t leave the cave he’s holed up in. We don’t know why,” he explained. The sandwich turned to ash in your mouth as you swallowed a large lump.

“And what do you want me to do about it?” you asked, looking at Thatch. Thatch looked at Ace, Ace looked at you. Both of them shrugged.

“THAT WAS YOUR PLAN? That I would know what to do? How the fuck should I know?” you yelled at them, momentarily forgetting your pain to flail your arms. You immediately retracted your arm like a wounded wing, cradling your arm to your chest to quell the rising pain.

“Because you’re the Zoan doctor,” Ace said, like it was a completely rational thought.

“Yeah, for like, Kaku! He doesn’t get stuck as a giraffe! How the fuck am I gonna help him? I don’t even have a devil fruit or anything! Oh my fucking gods,” you said, your head falling into your one uninjured hand. The teal glow in the distance was getting brighter. “Are you taking me to him now? What the actual fuck is your plan?” you asked rhetorically. Ace rubbed the back of his neck with his hand, nearly dislodging his hat.

“Well, he’s done this before. But never for so long and he’s never refused to change back either. He used to hole up in his room for a few days and be all broody but come back about an inch taller and a whole lot stronger,” Thatch said, completely undisturbed by your outburst.

“Yeah, he’s a phoenix. It’s part of his rebirth cycle,” you grumbled as you took in the information. The Marines had lent you a banned book about Zoan fruits and the forms they took and you’d read it during your training. There had been a section about the Phoenix and you had glossed over it, focusing more on the fruits you’d be working with. Now you wished you’d paid more attention outside of the individual patients you saw - maybe some of that information could have come in handy.

“See? You’re doing so good already!” Ace said with a grin. “You know more than us and everyone else we’ve tried.”

“Everyone else? Are there a lot of pirates there? You said you brought some doctors,” you asked hesitantly, unsure you wanted to hear the answer.

“Not anymore,” Thatch replied, his grin fading. “But you’ll do well, I can feel it. There’s something about you - I’m not sure what - that I think he’ll like. Marco ‘n I have been brothers for decades now, I can pick his type out of a crowd,” Thatch said, regaining his smile in what you were guessing was meant to be a show of support.

Fuck.

A couple of hours later the boat had reached a small island. There wasn’t much on the island except for a large mountain, a beach, and a small forest. A bright blue light was blazing from inside a large cave on the side of the twin mountain peaks, like a wild fire in the night. The closer the boat got to the shoreline, the more your head and shoulder hurt. How the fuck were you going to get Marco to change back? What would happen if you didn’t? What happened to the others who had tried?

You had spent the previous hours on the boat trying to think back through everything you could remember about the Tori Tori no Mi, Phoenix model but couldn’t remember all that much more than general information. You knew more about Zoan fruits than most people on the Grand Line but that didn’t make you an expert. You tried focusing on the information you did remember - you had a feeling you’d be needing it soon.

From your reading you knew that Marco would be going through life and death cycles, dying and being reborn from his own ashes. He’d become stronger with every cycle but ultimately stall in awakening his fruit unless...something. You’d read it but kind of glossed over the information, completely sure you’d never need it. You weren’t sure why the World Government had banned the information but you’d signed many forms to the effect that you wouldn’t tell a soul otherwise you’d be sent to Impel Down for treason. Even so, some of it didn’t pertain to your ability to care for Cipher Pol so you hadn’t tried hard to retain the information about awakening. Either they did or didn’t awaken their fruits but it didn’t affect how you’d treat them.

The boat stopped as it hit the rocky shore of the beach and Ace hopped off to tether it to a nearby rock. There was already a rope attached to the rock for docking, they’d clearly been here at least a few times before. The light from the cave was now pulsating and a sharp bird cry pierced through the night. Goosebumps blossomed on your skin as the reverberations continued to bounce off the peaks in the darkness of the night. You had no desire to get any closer and were just about to take your chances swimming away - even with your broken clavicle - when Thatch’s hand clamped down on your good shoulder.

“C’mon, he’s waiting.” Thatch had gathered all the items in storage into a large sack that he’d slung over his shoulder. He threw the sack onto the shore and stepped into the water, which only reached his knees.

“Up ya go,” Thatch said, picking you up and slinging you over his shoulder with ease. You tried to hide your whine as your bad clavicle was jostled but Thatch merely gave you a sympathetic look and kept moving. As a physician you knew there wasn’t really anything to do for a broken clavicle except wait for it to heal but in the meantime it really, really hurt.

“Sorry, chica. I’d let you walk but I don’t feel like chasing you down. Saves us all some time,” Thatch explained as he went up the path towards the mountain. Ace had finished tying the boat and grabbed the large sack, falling in step with his fellow Commander. You weren’t saying anything and neither did they as the cry repeated in the night. It almost sounded like the call of a mourning dove, deep and resonant, as if calling out for someone.

Shortly thereafter, Thatch approached the mouth of the unnaturally glowing cave. It was the kind of supernatural glow that had you wanting to scramble away but Thatch’s arm around you wasn’t budging. The lizard part of your brain flashed in warning - nothing that made that kind of light was good for your future. Ace set down the bag and pushed it gently further into the cave.

“Marco…..Maaaaarrrcoooooo….we’re back!” Thatch yelled in a singsong voice into the cave. There was no reply.

“Marco, I know you can hear me…I brought more meat for you. And a doctor! A lady doctor this time!” he continued while setting you down. Your eyes darted towards the path to the beach but Ace shook his head at you, crossing his arms and taking a widened stance.

“What the fuck’s a lady doctor? I’m a regular doct - er, veterinarian,” you hissed at him, annoyed at the gendered terms. You wished you kept your mouth shut as a giant, flaming blue bird head poked out of the cave and titled its eye to look at you.

You froze where you stood, unable to move under the piercing gaze of the Phoenix.

You were familiar with Marco the Phoenix as he looked on his wanted posters. They usually showed him in his hybrid or human form but you’d also seen his full bird form in some archive footage you’d watched in researching all known logia devil fruit users. Marco was cited as an example for you to study as a human who was completely in tune with his Zoan counterpart - Zoan and human one and the same, two sides of the same coin.

This being was not even the same kind of currency.

This was not Marco, nor was this the Phoenix as you’d seen it before. This was some kind of primordial god, imparting its judgement on mankind. Even glacing at the legendary creature gave you a sense of the weight of eons, something from a time long gone by. You almost had the urge to bow to it, to present your weak neck as tribute and sacrifice to something greater than yourself.

From your memory, the Phoenix was large - as was Marco - but nothing like this. The Phoenix took up most of the space in the large, high ceilinged interior cave, leaving about twenty feet of space around it in any direction. It was enormous, the rippling flames of its body reaching to grace the walls with its movement. Whereas Marco’s flames promoted healing, you saw many scorch marks on the walls where something had been burned to a cinder.

Not only that, it looked different than all the pictures and videos you’d seen. The Phoenix was normally light teal with a Whitebeard Pirates insignia on his chest and gold accents. Now the Phoenix was a deep blue ombre, going from the familiar teal down to a midnight blue nearly as dark as the sky. Not only that but the teal flames were flickering into red flame at the tips, more in line with the mythical creature rather than the pirate you’d seen. This was no healing Phoenix, this was an avenging god - and you were the sacrifice.

“Oh fuck no,” you whispered, mostly to yourself. The Phoenix’s head reared back only to bring its eye right next to your body. The head of the bird was roughly the size of your body and the beak was curved with sharp edges, ready to snap you in half. As the Phoenix shifted you saw some human bones behind its body, the charred remains the only signs of life besides you and the pirates in the cave. Your chest heaved with hyperventilation as Thatch pushed you further towards the animal.

“Hiya, Markie. We brought you some more food too. C’mon, change back for us, Pops misses ya,” Thatch said while sporting an overdone pout. The Phoenix trilled but didn’t take its eyes off of you as Thatch emptied the contents of the sack onto a stone slab in the cave. “Yeah! That’s her! Don’t kill this one, she was hard to get. She’s a vet and a doctor, isn’t that fun? I mean yeah, she’s a Marine -”

“- contracted by the Marines,” you interjected quietly, unable to break eye contact with the Phoenix. You backed up a few steps but Ace was right behind you, ready to stop you if you ran.

“Oh shit, really? I kinda feel bad then,” Ace said, clapping your shoulder. You winced and squeezed your fist. All the movement from being carried had caused you immense pain, you’d just forgotten it in the face of being eaten whole.

“Careful you stupid fuck, my clavicle’s still broken! By the way, gimme my fucking weed,” you hissed at Fire Fist. “You’re leaving me here to die either by bird or starvation -”

“Hey, be nice. We brought food! And Marco’s not gonna kill you,” Fire Fist said with a huff, crossing his arms across his chest.

“I bet you said the same thing to those other people and their charred femurs are saying something else,” you continued. “Gimme my weed back and at least let me die peacefully!” you whisper yelled at him. You didn’t want to yell in case that upset the Phoenix. Ace sighed but reached into his cargo shorts for the bag he’d taken from your house.

“Here, take it. But -”

“No buts. Buy your own or steal it from the next kidnapping victim,” you said, shaking it and grasping it in your hand.

“Was good shit too,” he grumbled, kicking the dirt. You wanted to continue going back and forth with him but Thatch had finished unpacking.

“Well, Markie, that’s our cue. Have fun but please try to change back. We’ll be by in a week or so if we don’t see you sooner,” Thatch said to Marco, giving him a facetious salute. “And uh, try your best? We’d really like our brother back so if you can fix him we’ll let you go,” Thatch said, almost as an afterthought.

“Wait, if the Phoenix doesn’t eat me and I can get him to turn back, you’ll take me back to Enies Lobby?” you asked.

“Ah, no. We’re too far from it now. I guess we’ll take you to an island with a Marine base on it or something,” Thatch said.

“Did the two of you think through any part of this plan?” you asked as Ace and Thatch walked together back to the front of the cave. You desperately wanted to leave with them, but it wasn’t going to happen.

“Eh, usually Marco’s around to stop us from actualizing our bad ideas, but…well you know the problem. Good luck!” Thatch said brightly, waving to you. Ace waved too but was still grumbling about the weed.

“W-wait! Just one ques-” you tried to follow just to ask if there was fresh water on the island but you shrieked as a giant blue wing cut you off from the receding pirates. The Phoenix hadn’t moved but shifted position and the giant wing covered the entrance to the cave. You tripped as you stepped backwards away from the fire, landing hard on your butt. The jostling hurt your clavicle and you felt tears threatening to fall. You breathed hard for a few moments but stood up. This was no time for tears - you had to keep your wits about you to survive the next week until Thatch and Ace came back.

Taking a deep breath, you closed your eyes and tried to focus on what to do next. Now that you were alone with the Phoenix in the cave, its close watch was making you more uneasy at every turn. It was still watching your every move as you shifted your weight on your feet. You moved back into the cave slowly, edging closer to the wall of the cave. It clearly didn’t like visitors if the bones were anything to go by and you didn’t want to be dinner. After you found a smooth expanse of cave wall, you lowered yourself to the ground to think more clearly about your situation. The Phoenix still had you in its sights but it wasn’t making any movements towards you.

After years of trainign, you couldn’t stop yourself from doing a visual exam of the animal in front of you. The Phoenix had flames gently lapping from its core, like waves as they went from the ocean to the shore. As you looked more carefully, you saw that parts of the Phoenix were singed - notably along the tips of its wings and near the joints. You didn’t really know all that much about its cycles but you were guessing it was getting closer to dying and being reborn.

The thought sparked another fear in you - if Marco died while you were there, what would Thatch and Ace do? It theoretically wasn’t possible since Marco was healthy and young but the nagging fear had a trickle of sweat rolling down your spine.

You took stock of the food on the table - if it was only you, there’d be more than enough to last you for a week. But you weren’t sure how much the Phoenix ate so it was difficult to determine how to ration everything. For right now the sandwich felt like lead in your stomach; you weren’t hungry anyway. Your neck was killing you though. You thought through your first aid training and decided to fashion a makeshift sling for yourself since the Phoenix wasn’t doing anything for you, despite Thatch’s assurances that it would heal you.

You unzipped and removed your outer shirt and set it on the ground. It was a Soul King sweatshirt you got at the concert you’d attended and not the right material for a sling. The Phoenix watched you indifferently but you still turned to face the wall when you tried to take off your tshirt. Surely the Phoenix wasn’t interested in your human body but the thought of being naked in front of it wasn’t appealing. It was difficult to remove your shirt, your broken bone not allowing you to take it off without immense discomfort.

So many hours later, all the ibuprofen had worn off and you were trying to muffle your cries when you reached to peel your shirt off. You hissed loudly when you had to raise your shoulder, clutching at it in pain. It didn’t matter that it hurt for a short moment, you’d have to make a sling to stabilize the broken bone.

Without warning, the teal wings of the Phoenix were about you, cocooning you within their flames. You screamed out of surprise, unsure if you were about to be eaten or killed in some other gruesome way. Its wings were keeping you in a feathered, fiery cage as you tried to find a way out. Suddenly the flames leapt over your body, making you jerk back in surprise. That only served to push you further into its plumage. The Phoenix’s beak was at your back, steadying you from falling again as its fire washed over your body.

Gone was the pain from your shoulder and clavicle, gone were all the smaller scrapes and pains you’d gotten on the boat ride, gone was even the small cut you’d gotten from sticking your finger into your can of Helmet Breaker beer when drinking. You were healed from head to foot while engulfed in the flames of the Phoenix.

The Phoenix moved its wing back to resting as you caught your breath from the experience. Its head was still right behind you as you leaned backwards, taking a moment to process what had happened. As a doctor and vet, you’d often dreamed about the types of powers that Marco had but you’d never met anyone who had felt them first hand. It was a heady experience, almost like when a wave bowled you over in the ocean, sending you tumbling under the water. You didn’t know which way was up and you weren’t sure you could find it if you tried.

Now that the Phoenix had shifted its body, you were able to see the moon high in the sky. It was late at night and between the black hole, the boat ride, your clavicle, and the bird, you were feeling completely exhausted. You turned to the Phoenix and wanted to express your gratitude in some manner, even if it couldn’t understand you perfectly. You bit your lip and turned to the Phoenix, which was now considering you with a spark of cognition in its eyes.

“Th-thank you,” you said, bowing perpendicular to the ground. You remained bowed for a moment, your hair moving to reveal the back of your neck. The Phoenix chuffed at you, but moved its head back towards the rest of its large body. Standing back upright, you slowly moved back to the spot you had been in before. You sat on the floor of the cave and lowered yourself to lie on the ground. It was cold but at least it was dry, you supposed. Wrapping yourself in your Soul King sweatshirt\, you yawned to yourself as you closed your eyes, much more tired now that you were lying down.

You squeaked as you felt the hard beak of the Phoenix moving you closer to its body, like a game piece on a board. Your hands instinctively reached into its feathers to keep yourself stable due to the movement but once you realized what you’d done, you jerked them back away in fear that it would upset the giant carnivorous bird. But the Phoenix didn’t squawk or bite you, just tucked you under its wing like it would an errant chick. You didn’t dare move away from the position it had put you in, unsure what it wanted to do next. Little by little you relaxed as the Phoenix did as well, laying its long neck against its body and settling in for the night.

Whereas the healing fire felt like it danced across your skin, now that the Phoenix was calm it felt more like energy lazily washing over you - like a low current of electricity rather than the jolt you’d gotten before. The sensation was unusual but it did have some kind of calming effect on you as you tucked yourself closer into the Phoenix’s side. If it wanted you closer to its body until it ate you, you weren’t going to disagree. Your last thought before drifting off was that at least you’d be a warm meal.

@mfreedomstuff

#x reader #op x y/n #marco the phoenix #marco op #whitebeard crew #thatch one piece #portgas d ace #reader insert #monster #phoenix form Marco #he's not changing back just yet #get what you get #reader x marco #marco one piece #tw dubious consent #tw dubcon #dubious consent

324 notes · View notes

2b4st4r · 13 days ago

Note

Hello can you do one where the reader has a tiger or lion type devil fruit and chopper wants to test if his rumble balls will work on her and they do but it makes the reader go crazy and it’s her vs the strawhats who don’t want to hurt her and maybe have her injure nami and/or robin in the process thank you!🫶

Claws of Chaos

Strawhat pirates x lion Reader

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

⋆˚🐾˖° Words: 7,986

⋆˚🐾˖° Warnings: violence, slight gore/injury, description of loosing control, mind altering effects, female reader(hinted!), and animalistic transformation/ways.

⋆˚🐾˖° A/N: hellooo! i hope you enjoyed although it might not be exactly what you wanted— i tried.

⋆｡‧˚ʚ🧸ɞ˚‧｡⋆

The familiar creak and sway of the Thousand Sunny was your constant lullaby, a comforting rhythm that had replaced the concrete jungle of your past. As a Zoan Devil Fruit user, specifically the Lion-Lion Fruit, you were an anomaly even among the Straw Hats, a crew already brimming with the extraordinary. Your very being resonated with the spirit of a lion: fierce, loyal, and occasionally, surprisingly lazy.

Right now, sprawled across the Sunny's grassy deck, you were in your human form, soaking up the midday sun. Your tawny hair, a permanent testament to your Devil Fruit, glinted, and a low, rumbling purr, a subconscious habit, vibrated in your chest. It was a sound only the crew truly understood.

Suddenly, a blur of rubber-limbed energy disrupted your peace. "Y/N! Race you to the crow's nest!" Luffy's boisterous challenge echoed, a wide, infectious grin plastered on his face. You responded with a playful growl, a flash of your fangs making him laugh harder.

A moment later, with a flex of your muscles, your form shimmered, and you were no longer entirely human. Your hands morphed into massive, clawed paws, your spine elongated, and a powerful, tufted tail swished behind you. Your face, while still recognizably yours, now bore the unmistakable muzzle of a lion, and a thick mane of fur framed your features. This was your hybrid form, the perfect blend of strength and agility. You shot off like a cannonball, your laughter mingling with Luffy's as you raced him up the mast.

Later, while Sanji whipped up a culinary masterpiece in the galley, you found yourself draped across the sofa, fully in your lion form. Your golden fur was warm and plush, and your eyes, keen and intelligent, observed the chaotic symphony of the Straw Hats. Chopper, your fellow Zoan, often snuggled into your mane, finding comfort in your warmth, a tiny reindeer nestled against a magnificent beast. He understood the primal shifts within you better than anyone.

Zoro, ever the stoic, would occasionally find you napping, a massive lion shape curled in an improbable corner. He'd simply step over you, perhaps offering a gruff, "Don't get in the way, furball," but never truly bothered. Nami, despite her initial apprehension, had learned to appreciate your fierce loyalty. She knew if anyone dared to threaten her map room, you'd be a roaring, formidable guardian.

Usopp, bless his brave, but often terrified, heart, would still jump a mile when you let out a full-throated roar, even if it was just a yawn. Yet, he'd also be the first to recount tales of your bravery in battle, exaggerating your already impressive strength. Robin, with her quiet observations, often watched you with an intriguing gaze, as if studying a fascinating, wild creature. She’d sometimes offer a gentle scratch behind your ears, a silent acknowledgment of the beast within.

Even Franky, with his "SUPER!" pronouncements, had a soft spot. He’d occasionally try to invent something to enhance your lion strength, much to your amusement. Brook, ever the gentleman, would politely ask if your purr had any musical qualities, often leading to a surprisingly melodious rumble from your chest. And Jinbe, with his profound understanding of the sea and its creatures, respected your raw power and instinct, often sharing quiet moments of contemplation with you on deck.

You were the Straw Hats' resident lion, a creature of instinct and loyalty, an essential thread in the vibrant tapestry of their chaotic, wonderful lives. Whether you were the quiet observer, the playful challenger, or the formidable protector, you were always, unequivocally, one of them.

The salty tang of the sea air always sharpened your senses, and today was no exception. As the Thousand Sunny cut through the waves, a glint of silver in the water caught your eye. In an instant, your focus narrowed, and the world outside of that glimmering fish seemed to fade. Without conscious thought, your body began to shift. Fur rippled across your skin, your teeth elongated, and your hands curled into powerful, prehensile paws, tipped with sharp claws. You were in your hybrid form, poised and ready.

Before anyone could register what was happening, you launched yourself from the deck, a tawny blur against the blue. A low growl rumbled deep in your chest, a sound that was less human and more primal. The fish, a large, iridescent specimen, tried to dart away, but your instincts, honed over countless moments of Devil Fruit absorption, were faster. A powerful swipe of your clawed hand, and the fish was yours, held firmly in your grasp.

You re-entered the Sunny with a triumphant shake of your head, dropping your catch at Sanji’s feet. He stared down at the massive fish, then at you, a half-amused, half-exasperated expression on his face. “Well, I guess dinner’s decided then, Y/N-chan,” he chuckled, ruffling the fur on your head. You responded with a pleased rumble, already eyeing the next potential catch. It was moments like these, when your lion instincts fully took over, that the crew truly saw the wild heart beneath your human exterior.

Your protective nature, an inherent trait of your lion spirit, manifested in countless ways. You viewed the Straw Hats as your pride, and anyone who threatened them would face your unbridled fury.

One blustery afternoon, a rogue wave slammed into the Sunny, sending Chopper tumbling towards the railing. Before anyone else could react, your body moved on its own. With a powerful roar, you lunged, transforming into your full lion form mid-air. Your massive body slammed into the railing, creating a protective barrier just as Chopper slid against your warm fur. He let out a surprised squeak, then buried his face in your mane, trembling. You let out a low, comforting purr, nudging him gently with your nose, your eyes scanning the churning sea for any further threats.

During a particularly tense standoff with a group of intimidating bounty hunters, Usopp found himself frozen, his usually quick wit failing him. You saw the fear in his eyes, the waver in his stance, and your leadership instincts kicked in. Shifting into your hybrid form, you moved to stand beside him, your presence a formidable shield.

“Focus, Usopp!” you growled, your voice deeper, imbued with a touch of a lion’s commanding roar. “They’re just overgrown alley cats. Show them what a real king looks like!” Your decisiveness and confidence were palpable, a jolt of courage that seemed to shock Usopp out of his paralysis. He took a shaky breath, adjusted his goggles, and with a newfound resolve, unleashed a volley of projectiles.

Even in quieter moments, your lion traits shone through. When Nami was meticulously charting a course, you often found yourself settling near her, your large, warm body a silent, reassuring presence. You’d watch her work, a low, contented purr vibrating in your chest, a subtle declaration of your unwavering loyalty. She’d sometimes lean against you, finding comfort in your solid warmth, a silent acknowledgment of the strength and protection you offered.

For you, the Straw Hat Pirates weren’t just a crew; they were your family, your pride. And like any true lion, you would fight, hunt, and stand by them, always.

The afternoon sun dappled through the leaves of the small, makeshift jungle Robin had conjured on the deck. You lay sprawled on your side in your full lion form, a low rumble of contentment vibrating in your chest as you batted playfully at a dangling rope toy Usopp had fashioned for you. It was essentially a ball of yarn tied to a stick, but the simple movement and texture were endlessly entertaining to your feline instincts.

Nearby, Chopper sat cross-legged, his large, innocent eyes fixed on you with intense curiosity. Over the past few months, your unique Devil Fruit had become a source of endless fascination for the little doctor. He'd pepper you with questions whenever you shifted, his notepad clutched tightly in his hoof.

"Y/N," he'd begin, his voice high-pitched and earnest, "when you shift into your hybrid form, do your bones actually elongate and then retract? Or is it more of a… rearrangement of your cellular structure?"

You'd pause your playful swatting, tilting your large head, your golden eyes meeting his. Sometimes you'd offer a slow blink, other times a soft growl that somehow conveyed, I don't really know, Chopper, it just happens. He'd diligently scribble in his notepad, muttering about muscle density and skeletal flexibility.

At dinner, it was a common occurrence for Chopper to bring up your transformations. "Sanji," he'd say, his mouth full of curry, "do you think Y/N's increased appetite in her lion form is due to a faster metabolism or simply the larger size of her stomach?"

Sanji, ever the attentive cook, would ponder for a moment. "Well, considering the increase in muscle mass, it's likely a combination of both, Chopper. Though her purrs do seem to increase after a particularly good meal…" He’d glance at you, a small smile playing on his lips as you licked your chops contentedly.

Chopper’s mind often wandered to the possibilities of your Devil Fruit interacting with his Rumble Balls. He hadn't dared to suggest you take one yet, his cautious nature always prevailing when it came to potentially risky experiments on his crewmates. But the thought clearly occupied a significant portion of his brain.

He’d often be seen muttering to himself, pacing back and forth with his brow furrowed. "If Y/N took a Rumble Ball… would it enhance one of her forms? Or create a completely new one? Maybe a more agile lion form? Or a human form with even greater strength?"

One afternoon, as you lay on the deck in your human form, allowing Chopper to carefully examine your teeth ("Just comparing the canines between your forms, Y/N! For scientific purposes!"), he couldn’t contain his curiosity any longer.

"Y/N," he began hesitantly, his eyes wide, "hypothetically… if you were to take one of my Rumble Balls… what do you think would happen?"

You looked up at him, a playful glint in your eyes. You’d heard his muttering, his endless theories. With a slow smile, you reached out and gently ruffled his fur. "Maybe I'd turn into a giant, fluffy lion-reindeer, Chopper. What do you think?"

His eyes widened even further, a mixture of terror and excitement flashing across his face. "A… a giant fluffy lion-reindeer?! That's… that's incredible! But also… potentially dangerous!" He frantically scribbled in his notepad again, filling pages with diagrams and question marks.

Chopper was also fascinated by your inherent lion traits. He’d observe you intently when you displayed your natural leadership, the decisive way you moved in a fight, or the confident stance you often took.

"Y/N," he’d ask, "when you feel that surge of protectiveness towards the crew… is that a purely instinctual response? Or is there a conscious decision involved?"

You’d ponder his question, trying to articulate a feeling that was so deeply ingrained. "It's… both, Chopper. It feels natural, like a part of me. But I also choose to protect you all. You're my pride."

His small face would light up at that, a warm, fuzzy feeling spreading through him. He truly felt like a part of your pride, a valued member of your unusual, but fiercely loyal, family.

Even simple things, like the way you sometimes groomed your fur in your lion form, fascinated him. He’d watch you meticulously, comparing it to how cats he’d seen behaved. "Your grooming patterns are quite efficient, Y/N! Do you find it helps regulate your body temperature?"

You’d just shrug in your lion form, continuing to lick your paw, a silent maybe in your golden gaze. For Chopper, every aspect of your Lion-Lion Fruit was a puzzle, an endlessly captivating subject of study and wonder, further solidifying the unique bond between the crew's inquisitive doctor and their resident lion.

Chopper's fascination with your Lion-Lion Fruit eventually spilled over into small, harmless (mostly) experiments. His scientific curiosity simply couldn't be contained any longer. You, in your typically laid-back manner, mostly regarded his tinkering with a mixture of amusement and indifference. The rest of the crew, however, had varying degrees of opinions on the little doctor's newfound hobby.

The Whisker Twitch Test

One sunny afternoon, you were lounging on the deck in your lion form, enjoying a nap. Chopper, his eyes gleaming with scientific zeal, carefully approached with a long, thin blade of grass. He crouched down, his brow furrowed in concentration, and gently brushed the grass against your whiskers.

"Just observing the sensory response!" he squeaked, as your ear twitched and you let out a soft huff, your tail swishing lazily. He meticulously noted down your reaction in his ever-present notebook.

Sanji, who was nearby preparing afternoon tea, raised an eyebrow. "Oi, Chopper, leave the lady lion alone. She's trying to nap."

Nami, ever practical, added, "Yeah, Chopper, don't startle her. We don't need a grumpy lion on our hands."

You simply opened one eye, glanced at Chopper, then back at the horizon, your purr resuming. It was a mild annoyance at best, hardly worth the effort of a full roar.

The "Roar-O-Meter"

Another time, Chopper, with the help of a somewhat reluctant Franky, constructed a makeshift "Roar-O-Meter." It was essentially a large funnel connected to some of Franky's gadgets, designed to measure the decibels and frequency of your roars in different forms.

"For comparative analysis of vocal cord resonance!" Chopper explained excitedly as you shifted into your full lion form.

Luffy, ever the supportive captain (when it involved something loud and fun), egged you on. "Go on, Y/N! Let's see how loud you can get!"

You obliged with a mighty roar, the sound echoing across the deck. The needle on Chopper's contraption jumped wildly. He scribbled furiously, his tiny hooves flying across the page.

Zoro, who was attempting to nap under the mast, grumbled, "Could you keep it down? Some of us are trying to find some peace."

Robin chuckled softly, observing the scene with amusement. "It seems our little doctor has found a new research subject."

You, meanwhile, just stretched languidly, unfazed by the noise or the strange contraption. A roar was a roar, whether it was being scientifically measured or not.

The Dietary Observations

Chopper also became hyper-observant of your eating habits, especially when you shifted between forms. He'd meticulously track what and how much you ate in each state.

"Y/N, did you notice that in your hybrid form, you tend to consume more protein?" he'd ask during dinner, pointing at your plate.

Sanji would chime in, "Well, it makes sense, Chopper. She's got more muscle mass to maintain in that form."

Usopp, with a nervous glance, would add, "Just try not to eat me, Y/N, no matter how much protein you need."

You'd simply nod, taking another large bite of meat, your focus more on satisfying your hunger than on Chopper's dietary analysis. As long as Sanji kept the food coming, you were content.

The Fur Sample Collection

Perhaps the most persistent of Chopper's experiments involved collecting samples of your fur in different stages of transformation. He’d follow you around with a small baggie, waiting for stray hairs to fall.

"Just need a few more samples from your human form, Y/N!" he'd call out, brandishing the baggie.

This particular habit often drew the most reactions from the crew.

"Chopper, that's a little creepy, don't you think?" Brook would quip, a rattling sound accompanying his words. "Though I must admit, your dedication to scientific inquiry is… spirited! Yohohoho!"

Franky would sometimes help Chopper build specialized combs to collect the fur more efficiently, much to Nami's exasperation. "Seriously, guys? We have enough weird stuff on this ship without cataloging Y/N's shed fur!"

You, however, rarely objected. If Chopper was happy examining your fur, it didn't bother you. Sometimes, you'd even deliberately shed near him, a silent offering to his scientific pursuits.

For you, Chopper's experiments were just another quirky aspect of your life with the Straw Hats. As long as they didn't interfere with naps or meal times, you were perfectly content to let the little doctor poke, prod, and measure to his heart's content. The crew's reactions, however, were a constant source of mild amusement.

The tension on the Thousand Sunny was thick enough to cut with Zoro's sword. Everyone was gathered on the deck, not for a party or a strategy meeting, but for something far more unusual. Chopper, his hooves visibly trembling, clutched a small, iridescent Rumble Ball. His eyes, wide with a mixture of terror and unbridled scientific excitement, darted between the tiny pill and you.

You sat cross-legged on the deck in your human form, calmly filing your claws with a small, flat stone you'd picked up from a recent island. A low, contented purr rumbled in your chest, completely oblivious to the nervous energy radiating from your crewmates. You trusted Chopper implicitly, and if he wanted you to try one of his strange candies, then so be it. Besides, you were always curious about new sensations.

Luffy, surprisingly subdued, had gathered everyone for a briefing. "Alright, everyone! Chopper's gonna do something super cool with Y/N! So, just in case things go… extra super cool, we need to be ready!"

"Extra super cool?!" Nami shrieked, clutching her log pose. "Luffy, this could be disastrous! What if she goes berserk and tears the ship apart?!"

"That's why we have contingency plans!" Chopper squeaked, despite his shaking. He pointed a trembling hoof at the stern. "Franky, I need you on standby at the Coup de Burst lever! If Y/N shows any signs of losing control, we might need a quick escape!"

Franky, though trying to maintain his "SUPER!" composure, was sweating. "Y-yeah, doctor! Super escape, coming right up!"

"Sanji, prepare a large quantity of calming herbal tea, just in case her instincts get… overstimulated," Chopper continued, his voice a little shaky.

Sanji saluted, already heading to the galley. "Understood, doctor! The finest calming brew for our lioness!"

Chopper then turned to Zoro. "Zoro, you need to be ready to… well, just be ready! Your strength might be crucial!"

Zoro merely grunted, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword, his expression grim. He trusted you, but he also understood the unpredictable nature of Devil Fruits.

Usopp was already sketching escape routes on a piece of paper. "I'm thinking smoke bombs! Lots of smoke bombs! And maybe some net traps… just in case she gets too… liony!" He gulped, picturing a rampaging you.

Robin observed the scene with a serene smile, though her eyes held a hint of concern. "Perhaps I should prepare some extra hands to restrain her, should the need arise."

Brook, ever the lighthearted one, nervously strummed his violin. "I hope her new form won't be too… terrifying! Yohohoho! Though I suppose I am already a skeleton, so what more could I fear?"

Jinbe simply sat in silent contemplation, his large hands folded. He trusted Chopper, and he trusted you. But even he seemed to be mentally preparing for any eventuality.

You, meanwhile, continued your meticulous claw care. You heard their frantic discussions, their theories about "enhanced forms" and "instinctual overloads." It was all just background noise. Your focus was on the subtle reshaping of your claws, ensuring they were perfectly sharp and clean.

"Are you ready, Y/N?" Chopper finally asked, his voice barely a whisper, as he held out the glowing Rumble Ball.

You looked up, your golden eyes calm and steady. You offered a small, confident smile. You were always ready for whatever adventure the Straw Hats, and life, threw your way.

The Rumble Ball gleamed in Chopper's hoof, its strange power waiting. The crew held their breath. The moment of truth was just beginning to unfold.

With a calm demeanor that belied the crew's escalating anxiety, you reached out and gently plucked the Rumble Ball from Chopper's trembling hoof. The small, colorful pill felt oddly inert in your palm for a moment, an unassuming vessel for such potent power. You popped it into your mouth, swallowing it with a gulp.

For a few seconds, nothing happened.

"See?" Usopp breathed a sigh of relief, lowering his still-smoking slingshot. "Nothing. Just a really weird-tasting candy."

Luffy’s grin started to stretch, "Told you it would be super—"

Then, a low hum vibrated from deep within your chest. It wasn't your usual contented purr. This was different, deeper, almost a thrumming vibration that resonated through the deck of the Sunny. Your muscles began to bulge, stretching the fabric of your clothes. Your golden eyes, usually so warm and intelligent, suddenly narrowed, the pupils constricting into slits.

A wave of intense heat radiated from you as your form began to distort. It wasn't the fluid, natural shift the crew was used to. This was violent, disjointed. Your limbs elongated unevenly, your back arching into an unnatural curve. Fur, coarser and darker than your usual tawny coat, erupted across your skin in patches, not a uniform covering. Your face contorted, twisting into a grotesque mockery of a lion's muzzle, wider and more angular, with elongated, jagged teeth that protruded even when your mouth was closed. A jagged, bone-like ridge began to grow along your spine, making your silhouette menacing and alien.

You were no longer the graceful lioness they knew. This was something else entirely.

A guttural, rasping growl tore from your throat, a sound unlike any they had ever heard from you. It wasn't a warning or a playful challenge; it was a raw, primal sound of aggression. Your head snapped up, those distorted golden eyes sweeping across the gathered crew. There was no flicker of recognition in them. Only a wild, unbridled fury.

Luffy’s smile vanished, replaced by a look of stunned disbelief. "Y/N...?" he murmured, a rare uncertainty in his voice.

You took a lumbering, uneven step forward, your massive, clawed paws scraping against the wooden deck. Another growl ripped through the air, deeper and more menacing this time. Your head tilted slightly, as if trying to place them, but the blank, feral rage remained.

Chopper stared, his face paling, the color draining from his fur. "This isn't... this isn't anything I predicted!" he stammered, frantically flipping through his notes. "Her forms... they're usually so balanced! This is... a mutation! An unstable one!"

You let out a louder roar, a sound that made the very air vibrate. Your new, monstrous form coiled, muscles bunching, ready to spring. Your eyes, devoid of any warmth or familiarity, fixed on Nami, who let out a terrified gasp.

This wasn't your pride. This was an invading pack. And you were ready to defend your territory.

What will the Straw Hats do to calm you, or protect themselves, from this unpredictable new form?

The monstrous form that was once you coiled, then lunged. It was a terrifying blur of dark fur and jagged edges, moving with a speed that belied its bulk. Your distorted golden eyes were locked onto Nami, who let out a terrified scream as you bore down on her.

Nami scrambled backward, tripping over a coil of rope. She desperately threw up her arm, but it was too late. A single, powerful swipe of your clawed paw connected with her forearm. The sound of rending fabric and a choked cry filled the air. When you recoiled, a deep, ragged gash was visible on Nami's arm, blood already welling and staining her sleeve crimson. She clutched it, her face pale with pain and fear.

"Nami!" Sanji roared, a whirlwind of furious kicks already aimed at your flank. He moved with a speed born of desperation, trying to divert your attention. "You monster! How dare you hurt Nami-swan!"

The kicks connected, but you barely flinched. The attacks that would normally send you tumbling merely seemed to irritate this new, wild form. You turned on Sanji, a guttural snarl tearing from your throat. Your teeth, now elongated and razor-sharp, snapped at the air, and you lunged again, forcing him to dodge frantically.

"Gum-Gum... Pistol!" Luffy's voice boomed, stretching an arm back before unleashing a powerful punch aimed at your chest. The blow landed with a sickening thud, sending ripples across your tough, mutated hide. You stumbled back a step, but your eyes, still devoid of recognition, merely narrowed further. Another feral growl ripped from your throat, and you charged Luffy, your new, bone-like spinal ridge scraping against the deck.

Zoro, grim-faced, drew his swords. "This isn't Y/N," he muttered, bracing himself. "This is just a beast." He moved in, a flash of steel, trying to keep you away from the injured Nami. His attacks, usually precise and impactful, were met with startling ferocity. You parried his slashes with your massive paws, your claws sparking against his blades.

Usopp, trembling, fired pop greens. Large, tangled nets erupted, trying to ensnare you, but your enhanced strength ripped through them like tissue paper. "She's too strong! The nets won't hold her!" he cried, scrambling for more ammunition.

Chopper, his face a mask of horror, was screaming. "Her power levels are off the charts! It's like a limitless rampage! I... I don't know how to stop her!" He tried to get close, to reason with you, but a sweeping backhand from your paw sent him skidding across the deck, barely avoiding a direct hit.

Robin, her usual composure fractured, unleashed a flurry of arms, trying to pin your limbs, but your raw power shattered her sprouted hands as easily as glass. Franky, bellowing, tried to tackle you, but you shrugged him off with a roar that vibrated through his cyborg body. Even Jinbe, with his formidable Fish-Man Karate, found himself struggling to contain your relentless, unthinking assault.

You moved with a terrifying, primal grace, your new form a terrifying engine of destruction. Your growls were constant, a chorus of pure, unadulterated rage. You saw only threats, only enemies. The very crew you protected with your life now faced the full, unrestrained fury of your Devil Fruit, warped and unleashed by Chopper's unstable concoction. The Sunny had become a battleground, and you, the familiar lioness, were now its most dangerous predator. The crew moved with a grim determination. They couldn't hurt you, not truly, but they had to stop you. Your roars echoed across the deck, a constant, terrifying sound that tore at their hearts even as they fought for their lives.

"We can't use anything too strong!" Luffy yelled, dodging a swipe that would have cleaved the mast. "Just hold her down!"

It was a desperate, chaotic dance. Franky, despite being thrown earlier, lumbered back into the fray, his iron body proving somewhat resistant to your blows. He tried to lock your arms, but your strength was phenomenal, a raw, untamed force. Zoro, ever the tactician in battle, wasn't aiming to wound but to disarm and restrict. He used the flat of his blades to deflect your attacks, trying to create openings for the others.

It was a combined effort, a testament to their bonds. Sanji, agile and precise, continued to harry you, kicking at your legs to throw you off balance, aiming for pressure points he knew wouldn't cause lasting damage but might create momentary disorientation. Robin's numerous arms appeared, not to restrain with crushing force, but to entangle your limbs, to wrap around your torso, trying to trip you. Each time you tore through them, more appeared, a relentless, frustrating net of flesh.

Luffy, finally, got his chance. As you lunged at Zoro, distracted by his relentless deflections, Luffy stretched his arms back, wrapping them around your torso. "Gum-Gum... Embrace!" he grunted, using his rubber body to absorb your thrashing, trying to pin your arms to your sides. You roared, a sound of pure frustration, thrashing even harder, but Luffy held fast, his own immense strength barely containing your rampage.

With Luffy holding your upper body, Zoro moved in quickly. He wasn't gentle, but his movements were calculated. He drove the hilt of his sword into the side of your neck, a precise blow designed to stun, not injure. You let out a choked gasp, your thrashing momentarily faltering.

That was all they needed. Franky tackled your legs, bringing you crashing down to the deck with a mighty thud. Sanji moved in, pinning one of your flailing arms with his foot. Even Usopp, overcoming his fear, helped Robin sprout more arms, weaving them around your legs, tightening the makeshift restraints. Chopper, tears streaming down his face, rushed forward, pressing his tiny hooves against your fur.

"Y/N! Snap out of it! It's us! It's your pride!" he wailed, his voice cracking.

You continued to growl, your eyes still wild, struggling against their combined might. But the raw power of the Rumble Ball was beginning to wane. Your roars grew less frequent, your thrashing less violent. The dark, coarse fur began to recede, the jagged bone ridge along your spine softening, melting away.

Then, with a final, shuddering gasp, the monstrous form flickered. The distorted muzzle receded, the elongated limbs shortened. In a flash of light, the grotesque beast was gone, replaced by your human form.

You lay there, unmoving, on the deck, your clothes tattered and torn. Your golden eyes, now wide and dazed, slowly blinked open. They drifted from Luffy, who was still holding you, to Zoro, then Sanji, Nami, who was cradling her bleeding arm, Usopp, Robin, Franky, Brook, and Jinbe. There was no recognition, not truly. Just a blank, disoriented stare, as if you were looking at strangers. A silent, bewildered glance at Nami's injured arm, then back at the faces above you.

A tremor ran through your body. Your eyes fluttered, then rolled back. With a soft, almost inaudible sigh, you finally passed out, utterly spent, leaving behind only the echoing silence and the lingering fear of the monster you had become.

The silence that fell over the Thousand Sunny after you collapsed was heavy, broken only by the lapping of waves against the hull and Nami's pained whimpers. Chopper was the first to move, rushing to your side, his small hooves scrambling over the deck. He pressed his ear to your chest, then frantically checked your pulse.

"She's okay," he whispered, his voice thick with relief, though tears still streamed down his face. "Just exhausted. The strain... it was immense."

Nami, despite her injury, was already being tended to by Sanji, who hovered over her with furious concern. Her arm was bleeding freely, a stark reminder of your uncontrolled power. Usopp, still trembling, helped Robin carefully gather you up, your limp form surprisingly light in their combined arms. They carried you gently to the infirmary, Chopper fussing over every step.

Luffy stood rooted to the spot, his usual boisterous energy completely drained. He stared at the spot where you had transformed, his brow furrowed in a way his crew rarely saw. "She didn't... she didn't know us," he murmured, his voice uncharacteristically quiet.

Zoro sheathed his swords, his expression grim. "That wasn't Y/N. That was something else. A pure beast." He glanced at Nami’s arm, then back at the door to the infirmary. "It was terrifying."

Inside the infirmary, Chopper worked diligently. He cleaned and bandaged Nami's arm, his medical precision a stark contrast to his earlier panic. Then he turned his attention to you, carefully checking your vitals, listening to your breathing. He covered you with a warm blanket, his small face etched with guilt and worry. He knew this was his fault, his experiment gone horribly wrong.

The rest of the crew eventually gathered outside the infirmary, speaking in hushed tones. The usual banter was absent, replaced by a somber quiet. The image of your distorted form, your vacant, enraged eyes, was burned into their memories. You, their protector, their comforting lioness, had become a nightmare.

Hours later, as the sun began to dip below the horizon, casting long shadows across the ship, Chopper finally emerged. His eyes were red-rimmed, but a flicker of hope was in them.

"She's stable," he announced quietly. "Just needs rest. A lot of rest." He looked at each of them, his voice gaining a shaky resolve. "I'm so sorry. I... I didn't realize the Rumble Ball could have such a volatile effect on a Zoan. It clearly over-amplified her Devil Fruit, pushing it beyond its limits and into a primal, uncontrolled state." He wrung his hooves, his gaze falling to the deck. "I almost hurt her. And I hurt Nami."

Nami, despite her bandaged arm, managed a weak smile. "It's okay, Chopper," she said softly, though her voice still trembled slightly. "We know it wasn't you, and it wasn't Y/N. It was the Rumble Ball."

Luffy walked over to Chopper and gently patted his head. "It's okay, Chopper. We're all alright. And Y/N will be fine. We just gotta be careful next time." His words, simple as they were, brought a wave of relief to the little doctor.

As night fully descended, a heavy quiet settled over the ship once more. The incident had shaken them, a stark reminder of the unpredictable dangers of Devil Fruits. But it had also reaffirmed their bond. They were a family, a pride, and they would face whatever came their way, together. Even if it meant facing their own friend's unleashed power.

You awoke in the dead of night, the familiar rocking of the Thousand Sunny a dull thrum beneath you. The infirmary was dark, lit only by the faint moonlight filtering through the porthole. A deep ache permeated your muscles, a soreness that felt far beyond a normal workout. As your grogginess began to dissipate, fragmented images flickered through your mind: a monstrous form, a terrifying roar, the frantic faces of your crewmates.

Then, a sharp, agonizing memory pierced through the haze: Nami's scream, the flash of blood on her arm. A wave of nausea and guilt washed over you, so potent it felt physical. You didn't remember the specifics of your rampage, but the image of hurting Nami was seared into your consciousness.

Despite the lingering weakness in your limbs, you couldn't stay there. The guilt gnawed at you, a relentless beast in your chest. You had to see Nami, had to know she was alright.

Slowly, carefully, you swung your legs over the side of the cot. Every movement sent a jolt of pain through your body, but you pushed through it, driven by the overwhelming need to apologize. You stumbled out of the infirmary and made your way through the quiet corridors of the ship, your bare feet padding softly on the wooden floor.

You knew Nami shared a room with Robin. The door was slightly ajar, a sliver of moonlight illuminating the interior. You hesitated for a moment, your heart pounding in your chest. Then, taking a deep breath, you slipped inside.

The room was still and peaceful. Robin was asleep in her hammock, her expression serene. In the other bed, you saw Nami, her bandaged arm resting gently on the covers. Her breathing was soft and even, but the sight of the white bandage sent another pang of guilt through you.

Ignoring the protests of your aching body, you quietly climbed into bed beside her. The mattress dipped slightly with your weight, but Nami didn't stir. You curled up close to her, your body instinctively seeking warmth and connection. You positioned yourself carefully, making sure not to jostle her injured arm, and nestled your head gently against her shoulder. The familiar scent of her hair and the faint sound of her breathing were a small comfort in the storm of your guilt.

Some time later, the first rays of dawn began to paint the sky with hues of orange and pink. Nami stirred, a soft groan escaping her lips as she shifted in her sleep. Her eyes fluttered open, and for a moment, she looked around the unfamiliar room with a confused expression. Then, her gaze landed on you, your face buried in her shoulder.

Surprise flickered across her features, followed by a soft understanding. She remembered the chaos of the previous night, the terrifying transformation, and the searing pain in her arm. But she also remembered the look in your eyes before you passed out, the dazed, bewildered confusion.

You felt her stirring and lifted your head, your own eyes heavy with exhaustion and remorse. The first light of dawn illuminated your face, showing the raw guilt in your expression.

"Nami..." you began, your voice hoarse and barely above a whisper. "I... I'm so sorry." Tears welled in your eyes, blurring your vision. "I don't remember everything... but I remember hurting you. I would never... never intentionally hurt you, any of you. Please... please forgive me." Your voice broke, the guilt overwhelming you.

Nami looked at you, her expression softening. Your tears, the genuine anguish in your eyes, spoke volumes. She reached out her uninjured hand, gently cupping your cheek. "Hey," she whispered, her voice surprisingly steady, "it's okay."

You flinched slightly at her touch, still expecting anger, but her touch was gentle, reassuring. "It's not okay," you choked out, fresh tears blurring your vision. "I hurt you. I saw your arm... I don't know what happened, but it was me."

Nami sighed, a soft, weary sound. "It wasn't you, Y/N," she insisted, her thumb stroking your cheekbone. "It was that stupid Rumble Ball. Chopper told us everything. You weren't yourself. We all know that." She shifted slightly, wincing as her bandaged arm protested, but kept her gaze locked on yours. "You're our protector, our lion. We know you'd never hurt us. Not really."

You looked down at her bandaged arm, a fresh wave of shame washing over you. "But I did," you whispered, the words tasting like ash in your mouth. "I lost control."

Nami's free hand found yours, intertwining her fingers with yours. "And we were there to bring you back," she said firmly. "That's what a crew does. That's what a family does. We look out for each other, even when things go completely insane." She offered a small, tired smile. "Honestly, Y/N, the scariest part wasn't you hurting me. It was seeing you so lost. Like you didn't know who we were."

You squeezed her hand, a fragile connection forming between you both. "I... I remember flashes. Just... wildness. And then seeing your face, and it was like I didn't understand." A shiver ran down your spine at the memory. "I'm so sorry, Nami. Truly."

"It's over now," Nami said, her voice laced with a quiet understanding. "You're back. That's what matters." She gently nudged you closer, and despite the lingering soreness, you instinctively curled into her warmth. She didn't pull away, instead, she wrapped her uninjured arm around you, holding you close. "Just promise me no more crazy experiments with Chopper, okay?" she murmured, a hint of her usual exasperation returning.

You managed a weak, watery chuckle, the first genuine sound of amusement since you'd woken up. "Promise," you whispered, burying your face in her shoulder, finding solace in her forgiveness and the familiar comfort of her presence. The guilt still lingered, a dull ache, but her words, her unwavering acceptance, had begun to soothe the raw edges of your remorse. You were back with your pride, and that was all that mattered.

The soft murmur of your apology, raw with guilt, hung in the quiet room. Nami looked at you, truly looked at you, and saw not the monstrous form of last night, but the friend who protected her with the fierce loyalty of a lioness. She raised her uninjured hand, gently cupping your cheek.

"Hey," she whispered, her voice still a little hoarse, but gentle. "It's okay. I know you didn't mean it." She paused, a small, knowing smile touching her lips. "That wasn't you."

The quiet understanding in her words was a balm to your wounded heart. You leaned into her touch, a tiny, almost inaudible whimper escaping you. She shifted slightly, making more room, and you instinctively curled closer, finding solace in her familiar presence. The last thing you remembered was her soft touch, then the comforting darkness of sleep claimed you both once more.

Later that morning, the aroma of Sanji's breakfast wafted through the ship, pulling Nami from a deep slumber. She stretched, wincing slightly as her bandaged arm protested, then slowly got out of bed. You were still deeply asleep beside her, curled into a tight ball, your breathing even and peaceful. Nami smiled softly, tucking the blanket around you before heading out to the galley.

As she entered the dining area, the chatter of the crew immediately ceased. All eyes turned to her, a mixture of relief and lingering concern on their faces.

"Nami-swan! You're awake!" Sanji exclaimed, rushing forward with a perfectly brewed cup of coffee and a plate of pancakes. "How's your arm, my love?"

"I'm fine, Sanji, thanks," Nami said, taking the coffee. She felt a slight tickle on her cheek and brushed it away, then noticed a few strands of tawny fur clinging to her pajamas. It was your fur.

Luffy's eyes, ever sharp, immediately widened. "Nami! You have Y/N's fur on you!" he declared, pointing.

Usopp gasped dramatically, "Don't tell me she got out again in the night!"

Chopper, who had been anxiously waiting, rushed forward, his eyes fixed on the fur. "Did she transform again? Is she alright?"

Nami chuckled, a soft, warm sound that reassured them. "No, she's fine. And she didn't transform." She took a sip of her coffee, then glanced towards the infirmary where your room was. "She came to my room last night."

A ripple of surprise went through the crew. Zoro raised an eyebrow, while Robin's serene smile broadened.

"She did?" Chopper asked, his voice full of wonder. "But... why?"

Nami looked at them, a gentle sadness in her eyes. "She woke up. She remembered... hurting me. She was really upset. She just came and cuddled up next to me." A small sigh escaped her lips. "She apologized."

The news hung in the air, a profound truth. The terrifying beast they had faced last night was gone, replaced by the friend who felt such deep remorse.

"She remembered..." Chopper whispered, his eyes welling up again. "She truly sees us as her pride."

"That's our Y/N," Luffy said, a wide, genuine smile spreading across his face. "Even when she's crazy, she still cares."

Sanji wiped a tear from his eye. "Such a gentle heart... our lioness."

Brook let out a quiet "Yohoho," his skull shining in the morning light. "A true display of love, even in such a frightful situation."

Franky wiped a tear from his eye. "SUPER emotional!"

Jinbe nodded, a deep understanding in his gaze. "Her instincts are strong, but her bond with us is stronger. She truly is one of us."

The brief, terrifying incident of the Rumble Ball had left its mark, a stark reminder of power unchecked. But the quiet, heartfelt apology, the need for comfort and connection in the dark of night, solidified something even more profound: your place as an indispensable, deeply loved member of the Straw Hat Pirates, your heart as loyal as any lion to its pride.

The morning sun, now higher in the sky, streamed through the galley windows as you finally stirred. The familiar scent of coffee and sizzling bacon filled your nostrils, a welcome comfort after the unsettling dreams that had plagued your sleep. The soreness in your body was still there, a dull ache, but the overwhelming guilt from the night before was even more potent.

You pushed yourself up, dressed quickly in clean clothes Chopper had laid out, and walked towards the galley, each step feeling heavy with apprehension. As you pushed open the door, the lively chatter inside immediately died down. All eyes turned to you, a mix of concern and relief on their faces.

"Guys," you started, your voice a little shaky, "I..." You swallowed hard, meeting Nami's gaze first. Her arm was bandaged, a stark white against her tan skin. Your throat tightened. "Nami, I am so, so sorry." Your eyes welled up again. "I remember... I remember hurting you. I never wanted to. I don't know what happened, but I'm so incredibly sorry." Your gaze swept across the rest of the crew. "I'm sorry to all of you. I... I lost control. I would never intentionally hurt my pride."

A beat of silence, then Luffy was there in a flash, his arms wrapping around you in a tight, rubbery hug. "It's okay, Y/N! We know it wasn't you! We know you'd never hurt us on purpose!"

Nami, despite her bandaged arm, reached out and gently patted your shoulder. "He's right, Y/N. We know. Just... don't do it again, okay?" She managed a small smile, and you felt a wave of profound relief wash over you.

Chopper, tears in his eyes, rushed up and buried his face in your leg. "It was my fault, Y/N! My experiment went wrong! I'm sorry!"

You gently stroked his head. "No, Chopper. It's okay. We learn."

The tension eased, replaced by the usual boisterous energy of the Straw Hats. But throughout the day, you found yourself making quiet gestures, small apologies woven into your actions, reaffirming your loyalty and affection.

After breakfast, as Zoro settled down for his mid-morning nap on the deck, you approached him. He opened one eye as you came closer, then closed it again, clearly expecting you. With a fluid, silent shift, your body expanded, fur rippling across your skin until you were in your magnificent full lion form. You circled him once, then carefully, gently, you lay down, settling your massive, warm body directly on top of him.

Zoro grunted beneath your weight, but didn't protest. He simply adjusted his head, nestling it into the thick, soft fur of your mane, letting out a contented sigh. He knew this was your way of saying sorry, a silent offering of comfort and trust. The rhythmic purr that rumbled deep in your chest was a soothing vibration that slowly lulled him back to sleep. You watched over him, a silent guardian, your golden eyes half-lidded.

Later, you found Sanji in the galley, meticulously preparing ingredients for lunch. You nudged the door open with your nose, still in your full lion form, and let out a soft rumble. Sanji turned, a slight smile on his face. He simply reached down and scratched behind your ears, right in that spot that made your leg thump. "Trying to earn extra treats, Y/N-chan?" he teased gently. You just purred louder, leaning into his touch, your way of saying, thank you for understanding.

You also spent time near Usopp, who was meticulously cleaning his slingshot. You lay close by, watching him with attentive eyes, your tail occasionally thumping the deck. He was still a little jumpy, but your calm presence seemed to reassure him. He even ventured to pat your head, albeit cautiously.

That evening, as the stars began to appear, you curled up near Nami and Robin as they charted their course. Nami's bandaged arm was still a constant reminder, but as you rested your head on her lap, a low purr rumbling, she simply ran her fingers through your fur. It was a silent acknowledgment, a reassurance that all was forgiven. You were their lioness, and you were home.

The incident with the Rumble Ball was a stark reminder of the power you wielded, but your inherent nature, your deep love for your crew, always shone through. The Straw Hats knew that no matter what monstrous form you might temporarily take, at your core, you were, and always would be, their fiercely loyal pride member.

149 notes · View notes

standfucker · 1 year ago

Text

Post-Injury Hurt/Comfort Series - Monster Trio

Characters: Luffy, Zoro, Sanji

Reader: GN

Word Count: 3.3k

CW: blood, gore, graphic depictions of injury, stitches

Ao3 Link

After writing The Break, I've always wanted to do drabbles of the same scenario for other characters, so here we are. ( 0v0)/

Luffy

It happens in an instant. One moment, you’ve brought your mace down on the head of the lion Zoan, dropping him like a sack of potatoes. You collapse next to his body, exhausted from the fight.

The next moment, the lion Zoan lunges at you from the floor, one massive paw smashing into your face with all the strength of their devil fruit, sickle claws tearing your flesh open.

You go flying. You hit the ground hard, leaving a smear of blood from your body skidding. Dazed, you try and get your bearings, berating yourself for letting your guard down early, praying it didn’t cost you the fight. The lion Zoan snarls and charges you.

“Gum-Gum Whip!”

The sight of your captain intercepting your opponent brings a heavy relief–if Luffy’s finished with his own opponent, that means your part is done, too. You can finally catch your breath.

With the rest comes the dull, burning pain across your face. The enemy mostly got you in the nose and mouth, miraculously missing your eyes. Blood runs from your nose and mouth and drips from your chin, bleeding as heavily as a head wound. Still, you’re not too concerned. It’s only when the rest of the crew catches up to you and you try to talk that you realize how much damage the lion did, because not only does speaking hurt, but Nami makes a face at the sight of you.

The local anesthetic that Chopper gives you helps a little bit, but it still hurts when he realigns your nose and stitches up the gashes. Luffy holds your hand the entire time, knowing you hate needles.

“Good job, Y/n!�� Luffy says after Chopper’s done. “You’re real tough!”

“Thanks, Captain.” You sigh. “I would have been fine if I hit him again, but I thought he was down. I forgot how resilient Zoans can be.”

“You didn’t want to kill him.”

“I know, I shouldn’t take these fights so lightly–”

“Y/n, that’s a good thing.” Luffy stretches an arm around your shoulder. “You’re a good person. Besides, I was able to take him out easily because of the damage you did.”

“Nami looked horrified when she saw my face,” you say. “I must look like a mess.”

“You do,” Luffy says honestly, making you smile–which pulls on your stitches.

“Owww, oh…smiling hurts.”

“Then don’t smile!”

“I can’t help it. You make me smile. You know this.”

Luffy rubs his chin, eyes rolling up as he thinks. “Then I should stay away from you.”

“Nooo, don’t do that! I need you around to cheer me up! Especially now.” You take his hand that’s hanging around your shoulder, feeling your chest lighten when he squeezes back.

“Well, in that case, I’ll just not make you smile!” he says.

“I don’t think that’s possible.” You chuckle, then look at the mirror hanging on the wall. If you need to lower your mood, there’s an easy shortcut–the combination of your inflamed, swollen skin, plus the stitches make you look nothing short of monstrous.

Luffy notices your face falling. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s going to scar. And not even in a cool way.” Living with severe facial scarring probably won’t be that bad–you are a pirate, after all–but it’ll still be new. And, to be honest, you’re not ready for your appearance to change so dramatically.

“What are you talking about? It’ll be super cool!” Luffy says earnestly. “Everyone will know what a strong pirate you are!”

He’s trying to cheer you up. You don’t want to bring him down in the dumps with you, but you can’t help but be bummed out.

“But what if I don’t want to look cool?” you say. “What if I just want to look like me? I mean, who could possibly find a face like this appealing?” You ghost your fingers over the stitches on your lips. “Who would kiss lips like mine?”

You think you’re holding it in okay, but the admission has you tearing up. You’re being ridiculous–you should be happy to be alive. But why did it have to be your face? Why…

Luffy stares at you in that way he does when he’s thinking. You can’t tell what’s going through his mind.

It happens in an instant.

One moment you’re sitting next to each other in silence. The next moment, he wraps his other arm around you, pulls you in close, and lightly presses his lips against yours in a soft kiss.

It hurts a little, but it also feels so good that your tears break free and sting where they roll over your cuts.

“Did that hurt? I’m sorry, Y/n,” Luffy says when he pulls away.

“No, no! It was nice! It was really nice.” You have to fight not to smile.

“Oh, good! I liked it too!” he giggles, looking overjoyed.

“When I heal up, will you do that again?”

“I can do it right now!” Luffy says eagerly, but you clear your throat and tilt your head toward the doorway.

Chopper is standing there, little hooves on his hips, thoroughly unimpressed with the both of you and your method of boosting morale.

Zoro

Zoro was always one to downplay his injuries. Next to Chopper, you gave him the most trouble for it out of anyone in the crew. He figured that so long as he got medical attention, the extent of the injuries was no big deal.

He never expected to be on the receiving end.

In the heat of battle, he’s entirely focused on his opponent. This enemy crew is tough, but not the strongest they’ve faced. Strong enough to demand his full concentration.

However, Zoro knows the unique sound of a sword cutting through flesh. When he hears the shhk! noise behind him and remembers you’re also fighting a sword user, he’s so badly distracted he almost gets hit. He has just enough presence of mind to finish off his enemy before turning around.

That’s when he sees you fire a bullet into your opponent’s leg, your free arm wrapped around your stomach. There’s blood seeping between your fingers. In the time it takes him to rush to your side, you shoot your opponent again in the other leg, making him crumple, then once in each arm, rendering him completely unable to fight back from where he lays.

“Yo,” you say casually, but you’re trembling all over. Your torn shirt is staining quickly.

“You got cut,” Zoro states. He tries to pull your arm away so he can see your wound better, but you step back.

“I’m okay,” you say. You and Zoro both look down at your abdomen as you pull your arm away just slightly, and Zoro sees the unmistakable grayish-pink of your large intestine before you quickly plug up the gash with your arm again. You look back up at him. “It’s just a scratch.”

Zoro’s about ready to stab you himself, his eyes going wide with horror and rage.

“Are you insane?!” he shouts. “A scratch?! Shit, where’s Chopper–?!”

“Ha ha–ow ow ow, hurts to laugh.” You grin, but Zoro notices you tearing up from the pain.

“Okay, just, stay still,” his hands are held up hesitantly, unsure of what to do, and he calls over his shoulder. “CHOPPER! Get over here right now!”

Once Chopper arrives, he applies an emergency field dressing and instructs Zoro on how to safely carry you back to the ship’s infirmary. You act like you’re in high spirits the entire way there, smiling up at Zoro like everything’s fucking dandy.

“This is kinda nice,” you say. “I haven’t been carried since I was little.”

“After you heal,” Zoro says, “I’ll carry you around as much as you want, okay?”

“Promise?”

“I promise,” he says gently. “Does it hurt?”

“Of course not,” you say, and Zoro curses himself for having asked–he can see you wince with every harsh step he tries to avoid.

“We’re almost there. Almost there.”

“Relax, big guy. I’ve been through worse.”

You haven’t. He’s been in every major fight you’ve been through, and it’s never been this bad. Your blood is still warm on his skin, and your color’s getting paler, and it’s all because he couldn’t protect you.

The surgery takes longer than he thought. He’s pacing the hallway outside the infirmary so much that even Sanji starts to make a comment, which would have started a fight had Robin not intervened and sternly told them both that everyone was worried.

When you come to, it’s to the sight of Zoro standing over your bed. You don’t manage so much as a ‘yo’ before Zoro gets onto his hands and knees, bowing so low his head touches the floor.

“I’ll never let it happen again!” he says, minding his volume–Chopper is only allowing him to visit because Zoro promised he wouldn’t stress you out. “It’s my fault! I’m sorry–”

“Get up.”

He peers up at you. Your face is twisted up like you’re holding something back, but you force it into a sneer.

“Get up right now, or I’m going to make fun of you,” you say. He hesitates long enough for you to roll your eyes. “Don’t be a pussy.”

That brings him right back to his feet. “What’d you call me?!”

“You heard me,” you say. “I’m alive, aren’t I? So relax.”

“I can’t relax!” Zoro snaps. “You got hurt because of me! I was too weak! I couldn’t–couldn’t stop this from happening!”

“Whatever.”

“Whatever?!” He no longer minds his volume. “How can you be so–so calm about this?!”

“How can you be making this about yourself?”

That shuts him up real quick. Realizing his mistake, Zoro starts to get a sour feeling in his stomach, but you only smile.

“Now you know what it feels like,” you chuckle and wince, “ow–what it feels like to have someone be dismissive of your injuries. So the next time you get hurt, you big dumb idiot, how about you have some self awareness and let me worry?”

Zoro deflates a little. “I still can’t just forgive myself like that.”

“I’ll do it for you.” You hold out your hand until he takes it. “Roronoa Zoro, I forgive you–so long as you do one thing for me.”

He leans in. “Anything. What is it?”

“Even with the pain meds, I’m still sore. Kiss it better?” You smile the way you do when you’re joking, but it soon turns to a look of surprise when Zoro leans in even closer. He hesitates for a moment, face hovering above yours, before his free hand comes to cradle the back of your head and he presses a firm, intent kiss to your lips.

You stare at him when he pulls away, your expression slowly morphing into a smile–not a playful one, not a masking one, but a real smile.

“W-What’s with that look?” Zoro says, flustered now. Wasn’t that what you wanted?

“I meant kiss my stomach, dummy.”

Zoro’s eyes widen, but before he can remedy his mistake, you weakly pull him back in for another kiss. This time, he obliges without question.

Sanji

Sanji barely dodges a brutal strike from his opponent, then finishes them off with a flaming kick to the skull. You grin at him as you down your own opponent with a heavy strike from one of your tonfa.

“Careful there, Hotfoot! He almost got you!” you yell gleefully, only to narrowly avoid getting hit yourself.

“Worry about yourself, Sticks!” Sanji calls back, mirroring your grin.

“They’re not sticks!” you say yet again, smashing one of the tonfa into a pirate’s head and knocking them out cold. “You’re just jealous I can fight with my hands!”

“I choose not to fight with my hands!”

“Sure you do!”

You were well aware of Sanji’s commitment to only use his hands to cook, but it was still fun to pretend it was a skill issue. Sanji knew it was all teasing anyway. The two of you greatly enjoyed your banter, whether in or outside of battle. As physical fighters, your rivalry was a friendly one. After all, out of everyone in the crew, you spent the most time talking to each other.

The next wave of pirates comes, this time stronger than before–the enemy’s commanding officers. The battle becomes too serious for you to go on making comments, and your focus gets pulled toward your opponents.

It’s a hard, bloody fight. As soon as he defeats his opponent, he worries about how the others are faring. The rest of the crew is almost done with their own one-on-ones, and he finds himself rushing to find you first, his pace hurrying when he finds one of your tonfa lying off to the side.

You’re straddling your opponent on the ground. Your non-dominant hand is broken, held crookedly against your chest, and you’re bleeding from your hairline and mouth. With your good hand, you beat your tonfa into your opponent’s skull, over and over, a broken cry tumbling from your bloody lips with every strike. Your opponent is no longer moving, but you don’t stop, tears streaming from your eyes as you mash his face to a visceral pulp.

“Hey, hey, hey!” Sanji skids to a stop next to you, grabbing your wrist before you can strike again. “He’s dead! It’s over. It’s over. You won.”

You look at him with wide eyes. Your mouth is held open, and at first, Sanji doesn’t realize what’s wrong, but he can tell you only won by a hair from the way you’re trembling. He gets down and pulls you into a gentle hug. “I got you,” he says. “I got you. You’re okay now.”

He holds you at arm’s length and checks over your body for any injuries, finding none. Mouth still open, you pull away from him and start patting the grass with your good hand, searching for something.

“Y/n? What’s wrong?” he says. “Please, say something.”

Sanji expects something tired and sarcastic, like ‘you don’t look much better.’ Instead, you make a strange, groaning noise as your response, and he feels a chill run through his body. You always had a quick retort for him, even when things were dire.

You seem to find what you were looking for, your hand closing around something. Sanji helps you stand up, and when you open your hand, he sees a few teeth in your palm that must have gotten knocked out.

“Your jaw’s broken,” Sanji realizes aloud, and you nod, and suddenly the way you hold your mouth open is deeply unsettling.

The silence that follows your surgery, however, puts Sanji at an even greater unease. Your jaw is wired shut to let the bone heal, and Chopper says that for the next six weeks, you won’t be able to speak at all.

You carry around a notepad with you, but for a while after you wake from the anesthesia, you don’t write anything down except to answer Chopper’s questions, opting instead to sulk.

“Come on, Sticks,” Sanji says lightly as he signs the cast on your hand. “I know you have something to say.”

You flick him off with your good hand, then seem to regret it, your face fallin along with your hand. Sighing through your nose, you grab your notepad and scribble something down, then hold it up for him to see.

‘I look like a chipmunk.’

The lower half of your face has, naturally, swollen up. Sanji shakes his head. “No, no, you look fine! You…” A pointed look from you makes him concede. “Okay, yeah. It’s swollen. What did you expect?” You look away, and he pats your shoulder. “Ah, come on, it’s not so bad. Most people find chipmunks cute, you know.”

Your eyes widen slightly and you give him a look of surprise. Sanji stiffens.

“Um, well, I mean…” he stammers. Though he doesn’t leave, for the rest of that day, you both avoid looking at each other.

From the beginning to the end of your healing process, Sanji stays by your side, always finding a way to make you feel better. He’ll hype you up by doing a drumroll while he’s waiting for you to finish writing out a thought, something which the rest of the crew picks up as well. When you’re hanging out with him in the galley, he’ll do hibachi tricks with the food he prepares to cheer you up.

The food he makes for you especially helps you get through the long weeks. You were severely bummed out at having to miss his cooking for weeks–until the first sip of the soup he cooked. You never knew a liquid diet could be so delicious. Sanji takes the time to roast and blend anything you’d wanted. Thanks to him, being unable to chew food doesn’t affect your nutrient intake at all.

He also indulges you in your favorite drink without you having asked, which is surprising. It’s not the first time he’s gone out of his way like this, but it does feel more special when you’ve been in such a vulnerable state.

‘Maybe there’s an upside to this after all.’

Sitting in the galley while Sanji cooks, you hold up your notepad for him to read.

“And what is that?” he says, walking around the prep table with a mixing bowl in his arms, looking down at what you’re writing.

‘I love y’

You pause, staring at your notepad with a weird, dumbstruck look. Sanji’s eyes widen, slowing down his mixing for a second, but you quickly recover and finish scribbling.

‘I love you treating me extra special.’ You hold up the notepad hesitantly, avoiding his eye.

Though feeling warmth rise in his chest, Sanji plays it cool. “Well, I’m glad you’re finding the positive in this,” he says. “I personally miss the sound of your voice.”

You drop your notepad and fumble to catch it with only one good hand, accidentally smacking it to the floor. Both you and Sanji crouch down to pick it up, and freeze when your hands touch.

The urge to say ‘sorry’ is strong, though you can’t speak. Face burning, all you can do is look at him apologetically and hope he understands. But when you do, he’s looking back at you with the same expression he has when he reads a brand new recipe. Like he’s figuring something out.

You go to pull your hand away, but his fingers close around yours. “I, uh… I really mean that, you know.”

Swallowing, you glance down at his hand holding yours, then back up at him, and nod.

“Y/n,” he says, letting go of your hand to instead cup your cheek tenderly. “Would you… I mean. Can I…?”

With your heart pounding, you nod again, and Sanji leans in. You close your eyes, and a moment later, his lips brush yours, feather-light. Just that barest contact makes your head spin almost as bad as it did when you got your injury in the first place.

Sanji breaks free, and you stare at each other. A slow smile spreads across your lips at the sight of his nose starting to bleed. You both stand up, and you write something down quickly.

‘I’m sorry I can’t kiss you back.’

“That’s okay,” he says, reading the note over your shoulder. He rubs the back of his neck, grinning. “I’ll gladly do all the work.”

And Sanji does, in the quiet, private moments where it’s just the two of you. And yet, when the day finally comes for Chopper to remove the wires, and the first thing you do upon leaving the exam room is call out Sanji’s name, he’s so elated that he picks you up with a spin, kissing you in front of everyone before he can help himself.

#one piece imagines #one piece x reader #luffy x reader #zoro x reader #sanji x reader #x reader #reader insert #zen writes

1K notes · View notes

moonydustx · 2 months ago

Note

law x mythical zoan devil fruit eater reader that has some like tiger based devil fruit?💕 law would probably find it cute

Hi! Thanks for the request! I hope you don't mind, but I think that - not on purpose, pinky promise - I focusing more on the zoan side than the mythical one. I hope you can still enjoy it.

✦. 　⁺ 　 . ✦. 　⁺ 　 . ✦. 　⁺ 　 . ✦. 　⁺ 　 . ✦. 　⁺ 　

Law knew it was a very well-planned ambush, but he believed he could handle it. His belief was soon dispelled when he saw the group scatter and your scream echoed throughout the small forest, scaring some birds and causing a tightness in the chest of your crewmates. It was your scream, a pure noise of horror.

"Captain..." Bepo's voice sounded lower than usual, an overwhelming concern crossing the eyes of those present.

"We need to split up and find her." Law replied, releasing the breath he hadn't even realized he had held. "Bart to the south, Bepo to the north and I'll take care of the other corners. Our meeting point is still the polar tang." The other two agreed and left.

You fell from the tree as soon as you felt the bad taste of the fruit on your palate. It lived up to all the complaints you had heard, it was horrible. The pains went away, but you could feel that your body had changed, you had become something new, but something inside you told you that this was something to be checked later.

Running through the trees, it didn't take long for you to find part of your group - more precisely, your captain in trouble. Without thinking much, you threw yourself towards the man who was attacking him, strangely noticing a huge paw coming out of you. What had you become?

As soon as you defeated him, you could see Law looking at you in surprise and it didn't take long for everything to go black.

Your first thought was "can I stay in bed for another five minutes?" and it passed as quickly as it had appeared, after all, you shouldn't even be there. As much as you tried to get up abruptly, two hands stopped you.

"Calm down! Calm down! It's all right, we're back at the polar tang." Law's voice sounded calm, his hands still holding you by the shoulders. "Are you okay?"

"What happened?" The question worked more like rhetoric, with your mind overwhelmed by memories. "Oh shit, what did I become? Your face was terrifying!"

"About that..." he began, seeming to be searching for something. As soon as he reached the book, he turned the image to you.

A white and huge bengal tiger apparently furious. Next to it was some information about what the animal was.

"A tiger?"

"A tiger." Law said and if you didn't know him well enough, you would say he looked dazzled. "You attacked our enemy and then passed out."

"Shit, what do I do now?"

"We can't go back, I think the best scenario is for you to adapt to the fruit, understand how it works." He explained and tried to sound as welcoming as possible. "But before that, you were already injured before you even ingested the fruit, so you're out of commission for a few days."

"Captain, I should..."

"Rest."

"And me too..."

"Complete rest." He said even more firmly. "Two days, I'll reevaluate you and we'll see how we can test your fruit."

The two days dragged on but still passed. As soon as Law said you were free, you ran to the nearest mirror - and somehow, pretended not to see him and the others following you to spy on what you were going to do.

Trying to concentrate, the first thing you managed to do was transform into a hybrid. Black and white stripes adorned your body along with a feline look and sharp claws.

"I don't think that's what I turned into." You said, turning to the small crowd of people at your door.

"Yeah, it really wasn't. Try to concentrate a little more." Law said and again, the curious glint was present in his eyes. Almost like a fascinated child.

Inhale, exhale. You concentrated as much as possible thinking about what had made you transform and nothing came to mind. Your other option to focus was the image Law had shown you. A huge white bengal tiger with black stripes, sharp fangs and an admirable posture.

"This is it." Law's voice caught your attention and when you opened your eyes, you could see the tiger there in the mirror, in your body.

You felt even stronger and more agile, but it was strange to be in that kind of body, that new kind of you.

"Oh look, she's turned into a kitten!" Bepo was the first to approach and even with the screams asking him to wait, he stroked your head and it was strangely comforting. "See? She's still our crewmate.

"I want to pet her too." Some voices said in unison.

Trying to save you from the many hands that wanted to touch you, Law invented that he needed everyone to leave, giving you time to get used to it.

"I can imagine that everything is different." He bent down to the height of your tiger form. "Can you speak?"

When you tested it, only a roar came out of your mouth, which drew a light laugh from the man.

"Okay, I think it's too early for that." He touched your head and slid his fingers to the back of your ear, giving you a brief caress that made you purr involuntarily.

Law just smiled at you and stood up, waving before leaving you alone. He would resist admitting it, but you had become even cuter.

It wasn't long before you returned to human form and established the agreement that you would gradually try stay in your animal form, trying to get used to it and Law couldn't take his eyes off you.

He had already caught you licking your own paws and even trying to nibble Bepo - who ran around the entire submarine - besides Shachi and Penguin having discovered that you would react like any other puppy when seeing a ball or a string hanging down. You had noticed that you had instincts that went beyond your will too.

Law tried to just enjoy it, but it was impossible not to want to pet you as soon as you lay down at the foot of his table for a nap or when you - in your tiger form - tried to steal the snacks from his food plate. It was adorable, but he wouldn't admit it.

On cold nights, the group would cuddle up to you and Bepo trying to find warmth in your fur - even Law would get between the two of you. And in the heat, everyone else had to deal with the tantrums of the two of you too.

And that's why Law would always give you ice chips, and that Bepo would never know that you would earn a little more. And also that Law would always give you some kind of affection whenever he passed by you. Having a tiger on board wasn't as scary as it seemed.

Extra:

With all the tests, changes and incidents that a pirate life can have, you hadn't told your allies about your transformation and that was all Law needed to take away Kid's peace.

While the two were talking, you silently transformed into a tiger and appeared behind him. The man's first reaction was to scream in fright, moving away and cursing Law for not helping him. As soon as he got ready to attack, Law promptly acted, taking you away and placing you next to him while, amid cynical laughter, he explained to Kid that you were his partner. And as always, his tattooed fingers slid through your black and white fur. The gesture becoming a sweet and involuntary habit.

#fiction #reader insert #one piece #no use of y/n #trafalgar d law x reader #law x you #law x reader #trafalgar law x reader #trafalgar law

195 notes · View notes

cuckoo-on-a-string · 1 month ago

Text

A Sparrow at Sea 1/?

MDNI

Whitebeard pirates/reader (fem)

Summary: Turned into a bird as part of a slave-smuggling operation, you get your revenge - and then your revenge gets you. Panicked and alone, you crash land on a very large, very famous ship full of very large and quite infamous men.

I promised myself I wouldn't post another incomplete one-shot, but here we are! Dealing with a bit of burnout and could use the interaction, buddies. Aiming for maybe two more 'chapters.'

Enjoy!

Master List

The bastards turned you into a bird.

So, you set their fucking warehouse on fire.

You sat – perched – several rooftops away, watching the little flames you’d gathered work into the prepared kindling.

Satisfaction glowed warm in hollow bones.

It hadn’t been easy. You’d labored for hours, too angry to rest after escaping the Devil Fruit user’s sweaty hands as he tried to shake your shrunken body out of your clothes and into a cage. You’d pecked his hands bloody and taken off through a broken shutter.

The kidnappers’ second Devil Fruit user, a Zoan type, slammed into the wood behind you, the owl too big to fit through the same crack a sparrow could. He’d hooted in rage, and you went scrambling over rooftiles and windowsills, trying to understand how to grab things with your feet.

Adrenaline fed into growing anger, and your little heart pumped hard with outsized emotions. Hiding was easy when you were so small. Plenty of merchants threw covers over their market stalls at night, and every building had nooks and crannies you could hop inside. Away from the men, their fingers, and their talons.

Once the owl’s shadow stopped circling and the night lost its edge to the blue hour, you set about your revenge.

Flying was more or less intuitive (a few painful experiments aside). Figuring out what you could and couldn’t lift took longer. You’d hoped to wrap some coals to drop on your target, but they were too heavy and dangerous to manage without hands. You took to setting twigs and scraps alight in torches and open lanterns. The flames caught you more than once, but only your poor little feet. If you lost your feathers, you’d have new problems, and you’d rather struggle to stand than fail to fly. At least in your current shape.

Which you’d have to do something about.

At some point.

If it didn’t wear off.

Which was a level of horror you weren’t ready to face yet. You’d contemplate your future as you took a dust bath in the ashes.

What would’ve taken less than an hour in your human body took until daybreak as a sparrow.

You panted as you watched the fruit of your labor ignite like a second sun. Straw and twigs fed the blaze until it clawed past the shingles and into the beams, growing fast and hungry down the walls and into the great room below. You hoped their smuggled goods would go up in smoke. You hoped the man who’d taken your hand to seal a deal for a few pounds of fenced sea stone would lose skin, limb, or life.

Damned slave trader.

It had all been too well-rehearsed to be their first attempt, and the cage was old and well-used. It wasn’t a bad plan, practically speaking. None of the Yonkos liked having people from their territories poached, even if they participated in the trade themselves, and sneaking a whole person out of a busy port was no easy task, let alone a profitable number of whole persons. A cage full of sparrows, though? No one would look twice.

If you were bigger, you’d lock the doors so they could all burn together.

But maybe they would anyway. The first shouts didn’t rise until the roof had collapsed, and you imagined a room full of sleeping men slapped awake with fire and falling beams.

The flesh on your feet cracked as you adjusted your grip on the roof’s edge, but you took the pain with pride. You’d done this. They thought they stripped your power from you with your sturdy bones and your opposable thumbs, but they were all wrong. Dead wrong. Fuckers.

The smoke hung low over the town, blending with the dense fog rolling in from the sea. Leaping flames illuminated the haze and cast writhing shadows on the streets below. Just as the neighborhood woke to the smell and distant screams, and the first calls for water and aid rang out, a winged shadow launched through the hole that used to be the warehouse’s roof.

The owl looked more like a demon from your diminished perspective, and you hunkered low on instinct, hoping he wouldn’t see you – the one animal lacking common sense – lingering within blocks of the mounting inferno.

But sharp, predatory eyes locked on you, and he dove with a shriek that promised murder. He could disembowel you in the public square and no one would even know they were witness to your execution. The owl was built to stab, and rip, and tear flimsy little things like you apart.

His wings spread wide, and his talons flashed gold as they came to bear.

You flung yourself from the roof, flapping wildly to catch the air as you fell away from danger. The blades on the monster’s feet scratched into the wood where you’d just been, and your heart stuttered.

He wanted you dead as much as you wanted him to burn.

As the owl gathered himself, peering into the dark for his target, you managed to find your balance in the air. Fluttering low and fast, you took the first corner. Your hunter’s wings were silent, and you only knew how close he came when an unnatural breeze cur over your back.

Too close.

No matter how small and quick you were, so long as he kept you in sight, he was always a breath from drawing blood. He knew his shape, and you did not. Sooner or later, you’d run out of corners, out of obstacles to keep between you.

And then you would die.

As a fucking bird.

Overhead, the fog thickened as you neared the water. The smoke wasn’t so heavy, but plenty of people lost themselves in weather like this. Maybe you could lose an owl.

You pushed into the damp, white cloud, serpentining to keep the owl from diving at you again. A discontented rumble of a hoot broke the silence in your wake, and you raced on, chasing the sound of waves and the densest cover.

As the sun rose, the water vapor glowed, catching and holding the light. You hoped it blinded the predator. At least convince him the chase wasn’t worth it.

But you couldn’t hear him. Couldn’t see him. So, you kept on flying like you were being hunted. Just because you were clever didn’t mean you were the smartest one in the room. You’d learned that lesson the hard way many times over, and it rubbed itself into your fresh wounds all over again with the salty sea spray.

There was always someone quicker, someone sharper, someone stronger. Someone with better connections and greater wealth. And no one had the decency to lay their traps in the open with a warning signs for casual passersby.

Over confidence wouldn’t get you this time. You’d fly forever if meant escaping the Zoan-user.

It felt like you did fly forever.

The sun rose, the fog thinned, and you started circling to look above, below, and behind for the shadow of another, larger bird. Besides a few seagulls, though, nothing appeared. Which was a relief until the fog cleared away and nothing but ocean spread below you.

You nearly fell out of the sky when you realized you couldn’t see land. Not even a lump on the horizon. You’d thought the fog would be gone by midmorning, but you realized the sun was too high and too low at the same time, like it had already crested and started heading down.

You were lost.

Worse, you were tired.

Sparrows weren’t seabirds. They couldn’t soar through empty skies to far-flung islands without many rest points in between.

You had flown far. And you saw no rest points. Not even a rock or a breaching chunk of coral.

Panic drained into a reserve, fueling a mindless fugue state that pulled you away from your growing distress. Your wings burned, but you shouldn’t have them at all. Dangerous thoughts. If felt like you were still carrying fire in your fragile claws, and you shuddered as your legs tucked too close to your body. Wrong feet, wrong legs, wrong body.

You shouldn’t be a bird at all, and you were going to die as one because you picked a fight with many someones much bigger than you without any kind of escape plan or preparation. An idiot in feathers with a small brain and burnt toes.

How much longer could you stay aloft? If not for the strong wind, you thought you might’ve already dropped low enough for the higher waves to catch your wings. And then you’d be doomed. Death by drowning or a hungry shark. Maybe even pecked to death by the gulls loitering in your periphery.

What a way to go.

And then you saw a shape in the distance. Tall and broad. That was all you could make out. It could’ve been a sea king for all you cared, so long as it stayed above the surface and let you rest.

The thing had a whale’s face, but not a whale’s shape. A whale island? No. No, you realized those square clouds were sails. Those holes were for cannons, not little caves in a cliff. Even as a human, you distantly understood, the ship – because it could only be that – was enormous. The whale at the head made sense. Good gods, it might as well be a floating island. Or an island whale.

People milled around the deck, so you fluttered up, calling on the last of your energy and determination to find a safe roost. The top of an empty crow’s nest was just what you needed. You crashed into the platform, rolling into the mast, where you sprawled – legs up – under the crushing weight of survival.

#whitebeard pirates #whitebeard pirates/reader #one piece x reader #cuckoo on a string #fic: a sparrow at sea #whitebeard pirates x reader #marco x reader #izou x reader #thatch x reader #ace x reader

126 notes · View notes

chibinasuu · 9 months ago

Text

Little Mouse | Sanji x Reader

Summary: An espionage mission gone wrong had you on the run from the Marines. You snuck onto a random pirate ship to hitch a ride out of town but were discovered by the ship’s cook, who was oddly fond of mice. Tags: one-shot, fluff, no use of y/n, f!reader (one use of “lady” in reference to reader), mouse-zoan!reader, spy!reader, set in East Blue just after Loguetown

a/n: i have always loved Sanji’s soft spot for mice, and this idea of Sanji with a reader who was a mouse zoan wouldn’t leave my mind so please enjoy this little fic!

You messed up.

You scurried through the streets of Loguetown, your tiny paws agilely dodging the feet of all the people milling around.

You really messed up this time.

A couple of marine soldiers were hot on your heels, desperate to accomplish their superior’s bizarre order of capturing a measly little mouse. You reveled in their apparent frustration as they whipped their lowered heads left and right to find you, to no avail. You were too quick for them.

Now that you thought of it, this whole situation wasn’t even your fault in the first place. You prided yourself in being smart enough to know when you were walking into a trap, and you were certainly observant enough to distinguish a lie from the truth.

It just so happened that a member of the pirate crew you were spying on was a fool.

You had been involved in an under-the-table deal with the Marines for over a year now, pocketing Berries in exchange for valuable information that could lead to the capture of East Blue’s most notorious pirates. It was dirty work, and you hated every second of it, but what could you say? Your devil fruit ability was perfect for this and it was a way to put food on your table.

Your mission this time was to scout a small pirate crew, which was affiliated with one of the marine’s bigger targets. You had overheard a crew member telling his captain that they were supposed to meet the “Big Boss” on the western coast of Sixis Island at dawn. You had no suspicions at all that the man was telling the truth, because he had believed the information to be correct. In such a manner, he had unknowingly — luckily for him — passed on false intel to you, and consequently to the Marines. If you had waited an hour longer, you would’ve heard the ship’s captain scolding the man for misinformation following his conversation with “Big Boss” over the transponder snail, which reaffirmed the location of the actual meeting point.

So imagine the Marines’ surprise when they arrived at the western coast to find not a single soul. The pirates, which were positioned on the southwestern coast, were alerted of the Marines’ arrival and successfully launched an ambush, turning the table around and causing an immense loss for the Marines.

The Marines were furious at you. One wrong intel and over a year’s worth of precious, accurate information you provided them went down the drain. You were deemed a traitor, and a bounty was immediately put upon your head.

That was how you find yourself scampering around the streets in a dash toward the harbor. You need to get on a ship and get out of this town as soon as possible. You figured a pirate ship would be your best bet, as they were the least likely to be fraternizing with the Marines.

You were desperately running through the harbor when a stunning caravel with a sheep figurehead caught your eye. You were well-versed in the pirate crews of the East Blue, but you didn't recognize the ship's Jolly Roger — a skull wearing what appeared to be.. a straw hat?

Without a second thought, you snuck onboard, careful to ensure that no marine saw you. You slipped through an open door and found yourself in a quaint kitchen and dining room. You scurried into one of the slightly ajar lower cabinets, and waited.

After what seemed like hours, you heard the crew, which seemed to be a very small one, preparing to cast off from the harbor.

Your nerves started to settle as you felt the ship slowly moving away from the town of the beginning and the end. The exhaustion of the day finally caught up to you, and you found yourself drifting off to sleep to the sway of the ship upon the waves.

The respite was short-lived though, as you were awakened by the clangs of pots and pans. You could only hope that whoever was cooking wouldn’t need anything from the cabinet that you were currently huddled in. But of course, with how your luck was going lately, that was too much to wish for. The cabinet door was suddenly yanked all the way open and you came face to face with a blonde man, his piercing blue eyes wide in surprise. You froze, fully prepared to be met with revulsion, the way normal people react when they see a mouse in a kitchen.

Instead, to your surprise, the young man’s lips curled up into a wide smile, “Oh hey, little mouse. What are you doing here? You must’ve slipped in at Loguetown, huh?”

He picked you up gently and sat you on top of his palm, “Well, aren’t you a cute little fella?”

If mice could blush, you were sure your white fur would’ve turned red all over. No one has ever called your mouse form cute before.

He set you down on one of the long benches on the side of the dining table, and continued talking to you, as if he knew that you could understand him, “A ship’s not a good place for a mouse to live, but since you’re already here, let’s take care of you until we can release you on the next island, yeah?”

He went back to the stove and put a little bit of what he was cooking onto a small plate. The cook placed the plate in front of you, “Dig in, Mouse-chan. I hope you like fried rice.”

The inviting aroma of the warm meal made your stomach rumble, reminding you of how hungry you were. You sniffed around the plate, acting as close to an actual mouse as possible to avoid suspicions, before lowering your mouth slowly and taking a small bite. It took everything in you to remain silent and expressionless as you tasted the most delicious food that you have ever had in your whole life. A few minutes was all you needed to clear the plate. You wished you could thank the chef, but you knew it would be wiser for you to stay in your mouse form in front of him.

“This brings back memories.” He chuckled, though a pinch of sadness was apparent in his smile, “I used to cook for mice when I was little.”

He took away your little plate before serving up the rest of the fried rice onto the dining table, obviously dinner for his crew. He opened the cabinet that he found you in, folded a dishcloth to form some sort of cushion, and put it inside.

He offered his palm to you, and you tentatively jumped onto it. He smiled at your cooperation, then proceeded to place you on top of the soft fabric inside the cabinet, “My crew is a rowdy bunch. It’s probably best for you to stay in there for now.”

He closed the cabinet door, but not all the way, allowing a sliver of light and some fresh air to come through.

The rest of the crew eventually gathered for dinner. You had no intention to spy on them, but old habits died hard, and you found yourself unwittingly perking up your round ears and listening in to their conversation.

You figured out that the crew was composed of at least five people – three more boys aside from the cook, and a girl. They seemed to be on the younger side, and you could tell that the crew was only newly formed.

You were only half-listening as they went on to talk about all sorts of mundane things, until the girl suddenly spoke up, “According to this map, we’re about three days away from the Reverse Mountain…”

Wait… the Reverse Mountain? This small-time pirate crew was heading to the Grand Line? With just five people? You couldn’t believe your ears. You had hitched a ride with a bunch of idiots.

Despite your predicament, a minuscule part of you couldn’t help but feel a tiny bit excited. After all, the Grand Line used to be your dream too, once upon a time. You had fantasized about traveling the world, before reality crashed down upon you and forced you into doing dirty work for the Marines just to survive.

A little voice inside your head told you that maybe sneaking into this very ship was a blessing in disguise. You were a fugitive with a bounty now after all, so what was stopping you from joining a pirate crew and sailing freely in the Grand Line?

The more rational voice reminded you that you were an uninvited guest on this ship. There was no way the crew would take you in – a stranger they knew nothing about, and a stowaway at that. No, you couldn’t dare reveal yourself to them. It was better to get off this ship at the next port and figure out your way from there.

The bustle of the dining room slowly died down as one by one, the crew retired for the night. You heard the sound of dishes being washed, and you felt your thoughts being pulled back to the blue-eyed cook and the kindness that he showed you. If you’ve learned anything from being the user of the Mouse-Mouse Fruit, it's that cooks hate mice in the kitchen. You couldn’t understand why this one treated you differently.

As if summoned by your thoughts, the door to the cabinet opened to reveal the blonde cook, “You doing alright, Mouse-chan?”

You couldn’t help but admire how handsome he looked under the warm lights of the kitchen.

The cook brought a little cup of water and put it beside you inside the cabinet. Once again, you were taken aback by the generosity of this man.

“Sleep tight, I’ll see you in the morning.”

He turned off the lights and headed outside, and before you knew it, a deep sleep claimed you.

You awoke to the crew’s chatter as they had their breakfast. You hadn’t felt this rested in ages. You saw that a block of cheese and some crackers had been placed beside the water, definitely courtesy of the cook, and you nibbled on them gratefully.

The day passed on peacefully, with you taking a much-needed rest inside the cabinet and the cook sparing you spoonfuls of the dishes he was cooking for the crew’s lunch and dinner.

By evening, you were getting a little antsy, the way you always felt when you stayed too long in your animal form. You longed to transform back into a human and stretch your whole body, but you knew it was a risk.

You heard the cook, which you found out from the crew’s conversation was called Sanji, finish cleaning up the kitchen. Just like the day before, Sanji put a cup of fresh water inside your cabinet and bid you good night, then turned off the lights and left the kitchen.

You hesitated for a second. Now that he had left, the kitchen was empty, dark, and quiet. It should be safe for you to transform for a few minutes, right?

Stealthily, you sneaked outside the cabinet, and in the comfort of the unlit kitchen, you turned yourself into your original human form. You stretched your arms over your head, moving them side to side as you extended your spine. You were so focused on the pleasure of being back in your body that you didn’t notice the footsteps heading toward the kitchen before it was too late. There was no time for you to change back into a mouse as Sanji switched on the kitchen lights.

The both of you were frozen to your spots as you sized each other up. Sanji looked you up and down, taking in your fitted white top and pants, before locking his gaze on your face.

His confused expression turned into one of puzzled recognition as he stared into your eyes, the only distinctive feature that you shared with your mouse form. His lips trembled before he sounded out in disbelief, “M-mouse…chan?”

You timidly nodded, heart pounding as you feared what would come next. He would definitely rat you out to his crew, then they would probably throw you overboard.

“I, uh, forgot my cigarettes,” was the only thing Sanji could say amid his shock.

Silence shrouded the room, both of you not knowing what to say, before Sanji finally opened his mouth again.

“Who… what are you?” He asked carefully, in a tone that was filled not with anger, but with curiosity.

“Do you know what devil fruits are?” You uttered softly, revealing your voice to him at last.

Sanji nodded, “Our captain is a devil fruit user. So, you’re one too?”

“Yes, the Nezu Nezu no Mi.” You explained, “It allows me to switch between three forms – my true human form, a mouse, and some sort of human-mouse hybrid.”

He was quiet as he took you in once again, his face lit with wonder. A trail of blood started to flow down his nostril and he quickly wiped it away with the sleeve of his suit.

“Are you okay? You’re not…mad?” You asked hesitantly, before blurting out in one breath, “I’m really, really sorry for stowing away on your ship. You have been nothing but kind to me, and I’ve been tricking you and taking advantage of your hospitality.”

You got down on your knees, “I understand that this is impertinent of me, but I beg you, could you please let me stay until you arrive at the next island? I promise I’ll disappear after that, and I won’t trouble you and your crew ever again.”

Tears started forming in your eyes as you waited for the cook’s verdict. His leather shoes entered your blurry sight as he stepped closer to you. He crouched down before you and tipped your chin up with his fingers, “Of course, you could stay. You could stay however long you like. I don’t know what your situation is, but I would never turn away a lady in need.”

His thumb absentmindedly brushed away the tears from your cheeks as he continued, “I still have to tell the Captain, but I have a feeling he’d be happy to have you onboard.”

“Why?” You asked incredulously, “Why would he be happy to find a stowaway in his ship?”

Sanji chuckled, “Well, for one, you could turn into a mouse. That would be more than enough reason for him to let you stay, or permanently join the crew even.”

At your confused face, he laughed louder and told you, “Trust me, you’ll never meet a man quite like my Captain.”

You slowly nodded, regaining a little bit of composure with Sanji’s reassurance.

“I have one condition, though.” You heard Sanji say as he stood up and offered you his hand.

You felt your heart drop. Of course, he would have a condition. You knew it was not going to be as simple as that.

You took his hand and stood up, lifting your chin in determination, “Name it.”

Sanji grinned cheekily, “Show me your human-mouse form.”

Heat flooded your cheeks at his request. You hated your hybrid form. It was hideous, for goodness’ sake. However, you could not possibly deny the wish of this man, who has shown so much kindness to you.

You let his hand go and took a step back. You drew a shaky breath, before allowing your power to flow over you and shift your body into the only form that Sanji had not yet seen.

You hugged your fur-covered arms insecurely, and nervously looked up at Sanji, expecting to find disgust written all over his face. Yet, his face was filled with what you could only describe as awe. He reached out and ran his fingertips over your whiskered cheek inquisitively, “Beautiful.”

You shivered at his word and his gentle touch, before turning your face away from him in embarrassment and immediately transforming back into a human.

Sanji laughed in amusement at your shyness, “Hey, don’t hide your pretty face from me.”

The heat on your cheeks intensified, and your eyes wandered around the kitchen, trying to find a distraction from Sanji’s gaze upon your face. Your eyes landed on today’s newspaper lying on top of the dining table, the corner of a wanted poster visible from between its pages.

You took out the poster and cringed at the sight of your full name and picture looking back at you.

“Is that you?” Sanji asked, “No wonder I thought your face looked a little familiar.”

He took the poster from you and scanned its content. You felt your heart inadvertently skip a beat as the sound of your name fell from his lips for the first time.

“15 million Berries?” He raised a swirly eyebrow at you, “That’s quite a bounty for a little mouse.”

You sighed, “I guess you deserve an explanation.”

You ended up telling him everything. You weren’t sure why, seeing as he was practically a stranger, but you knew that you could trust him.

You told him about how you left your hometown to go out to sea, filled with dreams of the Grand Line. About how you were stranded on an island with all of your provisions and Berries lost to the sea, and how you ended up accidentally eating a devil fruit to tame your hunger. Of course, you also told him all about how you came to be in this mess with the Marines in the first place.

Sanji was quiet as you talked, only offering small hums and nods to indicate that he was listening. When you finished, he simply thanked you for trusting him with your story.

In exchange, he told you a little about the crew. He told you about his Captain, Luffy, who dreamed of becoming the King of the Pirates. You had initially laughed, thinking that he was joking, before realizing that Sanji was dead serious. You shook your head in disbelief and smiled to yourself, just what the hell were you getting yourself into?

Without even being aware of it, You and Sanji had talked through the night, getting to know one another over cups of tea that Sanji had prepared at some point during your conversation.

The rising sun caught the cook’s attention, and he immediately jumped up to prepare breakfast.

You trembled anxiously at the thought of meeting the rest of the crew soon, not knowing how they would react to your presence.

Sanji noticed and squeezed your shoulder reassuringly, “Everything is going to be alright, Mouse-chan.”

Somehow, you believed him.

You watched the sun creep higher and higher over the horizon, bringing in a new day and hopefully, a new life for you.

Everything was going to be alright.

↳ masterlist

#one piece #one piece x reader #one piece x you #one piece fluff #sanji x reader #sanji x you #sanji x y/n #vinsmoke sanji x reader #vinsmoke sanji x you #sanji #black leg sanji #vinsmoke sanji #one piece fanfic #chibinasuu fics

402 notes · View notes

hummingbird24220 · 1 month ago

Note

luffy x mythical zoan devil fruit eater reader that has some like tiger based devil fruit?💕 myb any other op character, law would probably be cute since he likes cute stuff and hed probably find it cute!

Hello, sorry this took so long. I had the draft but it took me forever to get to editing. It's short - i ended up cutting a lot of it cause i wasn't vibing with it. Hopefully you still like it!

Paws Off, Tra-Guy!

Luffy x Byakko!Reader

Sunlight poured across the deck of the Thousand Sunny as you lay sprawled across the lion head figurehead, tail flicking lazily. Your hybrid form—a sleek, striped blend of feline grace and human mischief—soaked in the warmth. Your ears twitched with each creak of the wood and every faint giggle from the crew.

“(Y/N)!” Your name came with a rush of sandals and wind.

You peeked one glowing eye open just in time to see Luffy barreling toward you. He skidded to a halt beside your lounging form, casting a long shadow.

“There you are!” he pouted. “I’ve been looking everywhere!”

You yawned like a smug kitten, flashing your fangs with a teasing smile. “You saw me two hours ago, captain.”

“That’s too long!” Luffy huffed, arms crossing. “You’re my sunshine. My warm fuzzy nap buddy. My soft stripey pillow. Don’t go disappearing on me.”

You blinked slowly. “I went to the galley.”

“Without me?”

Before you could answer, Luffy plopped down beside you and flopped across your lap like a lazy dog. You purred unconsciously, brushing his hat back to see his eyes.

“Mine,” he mumbled, half-sulking, half-napping.

You flicked his nose with your tail, amused. “Possessive much?”

“Nope,” Luffy said, clearly lying. “Okay. Maybe a little.”

Later that week, the crew docked at a chilly, mist-covered island. Something about it felt strange, and even you were jumpy—ears twitching, tail stiff. You stayed closer to Luffy than usual.

Until Trafalgar Law showed up.

You’d met him once before. He was composed, too clever for his own good, and smelled like trouble (and antiseptic). When he approached the crew, you held your ground beside Luffy.

Law gave a polite nod to your captain. Then his gaze flicked to you. “You must be (Y/N)-ya.”

You narrowed your eyes. “And you must be boring.”

To your surprise, he smirked. “I heard you have a mythical Zoan. Tiger-type?”

“Got a problem with cats?” you asked, leaning forward on all fours like the predator you were.

“Not at all,” he said, tilting his head. “You’re actually… kind of cute.”

There was a beat of silence.

Then—

“Oi!” Luffy barked, standing up so fast he nearly launched himself into orbit. “Find your own (Y/N)!”

Law raised an eyebrow. “Relax, Straw Hat. I was just making an observation.”

“No!” Luffy jabbed a finger toward Law. “This one’s mine! My crew! My nap buddy! My sunshine!”

“Sunshine?” you repeated, snorting.

“You’re warm and soft and you purr when I hug you!” Luffy added with zero shame. “And you don’t look at other captains! Right?!”

You blinked slowly, tail swishing.

Law looked vaguely amused. “Possessive much?”

You just leaned into Luffy’s side, arm brushing his, a smug grin on your lips.

“Maybe a little.”

That night, Luffy refused to let you out of his reach, pulling you into a pile of blankets on deck.

“You’re gonna stay right here,” he mumbled, wrapping his arms around you. “No wandering. No Tra-Guy.”

“No Tra-Guy,” you agreed, curling into him.

The enemy base erupted in smoke and chaos. Marines scattered like ants as you landed in the center of the battlefield, claws cracking the stone beneath your paws. Your body shimmered with spiritual light — fur like silver flames, stripes glowing faintly blue, eyes radiating celestial fury.

In your Byakko form, you were a force of myth — regal, terrifying, beautiful.

“YOOO!! You look AWESOME!!” Luffy shouted, grinning from atop the roof of a nearby warehouse. His hat fluttered in the wind, hands snapping to his sides as steam hissed out.

You growled, half-chuff, half-laugh. “Ready to go wild, captain?”

“Gear Second!” Luffy vanished in a blur, reappearing beside you as you lunged forward — a glowing blur of white-hot tiger fury — fangs and claws sweeping through enemy ranks as he tore through the air beside you with piston-powered punches.

You fought like you were made for each other.

He flattened a marine, and you pounced over him to knock out the ones behind.

You slashed at a swordsman’s blade, and Luffy punched him in the gut before he even blinked.

You roared — celestial power building as crackling stormlight gathered in your chest — and Luffy cheered. “THAT’S MY (Y/N)!!”

The ground caved under your lightning-charged roar, knocking back the entire platoon.

In the aftermath, panting, smoke rising, you shrank down into your half-beast hybrid form, fur still glowing at the tips.

Luffy landed beside you with a goofy grin, arms stretched lazily behind his head. “You’re the coolest. Ever.”

You flicked his hat with your tail. “Obviously.”

Back on the Sunny that night, the crew was all praises.

“Daaaamn, that was flashy,” Usopp whistled.

“I want a lightning roar,” Franky muttered, sketching something ridiculous on a napkin.

“Such elegant destruction,” Brook said, resting his chin on his violin.

Zoro grunted approvingly from where he sat sharpening his sword. “Tch. You held your own.”

Even Nami smirked. “I think you burned half the budget in lightshows alone.”

And then… Law arrived.

He’d watched the fight from afar, only joining when most of the heat was over. Typical.

“Impressive control,” he said, eyeing you with his usual clinical calm. “I didn’t expect such… divine manifestation from a feline-based Zoan.”

You tilted your head, cocky. “Jealous you didn’t get a fluffy mythic tiger?”

“Maybe a little.”

Before you could snark back—

“Traffyyyyyy.”

Luffy’s voice cut across the deck, drawn-out and dramatic.

You blinked.

Luffy marched over, flopping dramatically between you and Law like a kid guarding his last cookie.

“What’re you doing over here, Tra-guy? Huh? Don’t you have, like… hearts to steal or something?” Luffy squinted. “We don’t need your creepy compliments.”

“I was complimenting her power, not flirting,” Law said flatly.

Luffy squinted harder. “Well stop it! My sunshine doesn’t need weird sword doctors being impressed!”

You rolled your eyes. “You’re literally lying on my feet.”

“I live here now,” Luffy muttered, arms crossed as he leaned against your thigh.

You sighed. Law gave you the tiniest smirk before walking away — but not before tossing back a low: “If you ever want a captain who doesn’t throw tantrums, let me know.”

Luffy growled behind you. “TRA-GUY—!”

You nudged his face with your tail. “Luffy.”

He blinked up at you.

You smiled. “You’re my captain. Forever.”

His cheeks pinked. “…Really?”

You leaned down, kissing his scarred cheek. “Really.”

He lit up like the sun. “YOSH!! Let’s fight together forever, (Y/N)!!”

You laughed. “Only if I get to nap on you after.”

“DEAL!”

#one piece #x reader #reader insert #luffy #sanji #nami #nico robin #tony tony chopper #usopp #luffy x reader #trafalgar law #request

99 notes · View notes

fanaticsnail · 10 months ago

Text

Don't Run

Masterlist Here

Word Count: 4,600+

Synopsis: In one moment, you were standing beside your boss and enjoying the silence between you as you worked. In an instant, the dynamic shifted: you became the hunted as opposed to the hunter. When you ducked towards the ground, shifting your eyes and tilting your head to read the tracks left by your target, Rob Lucci was hit by a wave he had long since prayed he had repressed. Instinct.

Themes: Rob Lucci x afab!reader, NSFW, 18+, smut, MDNI, primal play, no prior relationship, dub con, half-shifting, monster loving, zoan tendencies, Lucci has hit his season, knotting, slight yandere, hunting, a little out of character for Lucci as a monster, Lucci in rutt, workplace rivals to lovers, chasing, claiming, use of the word 'mate'.

Notes: I wanted to do something for Lucci that leaned a little more into the monster aspects of Zoans. I hope you enjoy!

Everything happened so fast.

In one moment, you were standing beside your boss and enjoying the silence between you and him as you tracked a pirate for the celestial dragons. Feet falling in perfect synchrony, breaths silenced while your eyes both focussed, you found the trail you were searching for with relative ease.

That silence was not to remain as such for long. In an instant, the dynamic shifted: you became the hunted as opposed to the hunter. When you ducked towards the ground, shifting your eyes and tilting your head to read the marks left on the ground, Rob Lucci was hit by a wave he had long since prayed he had repressed. As he took in the way your body arched and knelt low to the ground, he automatically undressed you with his eyes and saw himself claiming you as his Zoan alter. He couldn't fight it, it all coming to him as automatically as breathing or walking.

Instinct.

Rob Lucci had earlier dismissed Hattori so the two of you could focus on using your keen eyes to search for any indication of your target, rather than your usual inclination to hand feed the bird dried corn kernels you traveled with. You were sweet amongst the sour faces he grew accustomed to. Despite how you were in battle, you always had that way of brightening any room you entered. The celestial dragons almost enjoyed you, and your coworkers adored you.

But Lucci? He both hated the softness to you, and appreciated you being that presence for him when the time came. Your natural charisma did wonders for sating the cruelty of the celestial dragons, but Rob Lucci despised the small up-twitch in your tone. You were sweet, despite your role beside him. Too sweet for your own well being.

The Zoan-Fruit user kept his eyes sharp and focussed, only ever affixing to the ground in front of you both while you searched. When you bent down to peer at the tracks a little closer, his chest rattled with a deep growl that bubbled and shook within his throat.

The perfect arch of your back awoke that desire deep within his soul. His withheld urges finally broke when he saw you in that position. Ass rounded, kneeling to the ground, focussing on your task on all fours, the beast within him swelled to life against his will. You looked so good on your knees, almost playing that role he so desperately needed you to.

Submission.

At hearing the growl, you hastily snapped your head in his direction for further instruction. Truly thinking he saw something you did not manage to see, your eyes rounded innocently and your lips parted in a soft heart-shape while you gazed at him in question.

“Sir, what is it?” you asked quietly, darting your eyes between his while reading his squared body language, “Are they close? Do I need to-?”

“-Don’t run,” his growl cracked from the recesses of his diaphragm, “It will make what’s about to happen so much worse.”

Slowly rising to your feet, you turn fully to face him. His purred growl grew in intensity, prompting your foot to fall back and prepare yourself for battle. Unknowing what you were preparing yourself for, you ensured you remained below his eye level while you flexed your muscles to ready yourself.

“Have we been found?” you whispered, your eyes never leaving his face while you peered through your peripherals around the area.

“No,” his tone quietened, that same rattling purr swelling in his chest. His lip almost upturned at the corner as he uttered a small quip, “Not yet, at least.”

“Then what is it?” Your voice raised in frequency. You arched your back and rolled your shoulders back. “I just found their tracks. What’s wrong-?” Your sentence halted as Lucci cut you off.

“-You... You've triggered it,” he snarled with a vile accusation laden in his tone. “The way you bent just now. I-... I need-...” He shook his head, attempting to chase away the need pooling in his belly and the adrenaline igniting a fresh wave of lust over his skin.

Mate.

His rounded pupils split into symmetrical slits as he focuses his shifting gaze on your much smaller form. He had hoped he had grown out of this by now, and took the correct combinations of melatonin and herbal remedies to sate it. But the way your ass all but presented to him while you knelt towards the floor said otherwise.

Body swelling with the ignition of need, he felt his top and bottom canines protrude from his jaw while his muscles broke and cracked to morph into a larger form. His eyes never left yours as your own rounded in fright. Those eyes, that soft innocence in your face, the almost unnoticeable quiver in your lip while your heartbeat began to drum in your ears.

“Sir?” your soft and unsure voice cut through the air, “What did I trigger? Some form of trap they laid out for us?”

Lucci’s body vibrated with intensity. His body propelled his foot forward against his will. He was screaming to have a semblance of control. His arched eyebrows furrowed down in the center of his head. The pads of his feet expanded and broke through the soles of his shoes. Toes curled, claws protruded and cut into the dirt beneath him.

You turned on your heels, eyes holding firmly against his and checking him over. Lucci was angry. Everything about him was screaming both aggression and need, and it began to frighten you.

“Don't run,” he warned you, his usual cadence cutting through and his eyes widened in panic, “It will be so much worse if you do. I can't-... I won't be in control of myself if you run.”

“What can't you control, sir?” You frown at the way your voice catches in your throat, your fright rising and taking over your body, “Talk to me. What is going on?”

“Zoan Fruit users,” Lucci purred, a cruel smile rising on his face as he lowered his body down to the floor, “Take on similar urges of their animal counterpart. I-... I thought I'd repressed it enough.” His shoulders rolled back, his unblinking eyes drinking you in as he crouched in a low position, “But, it appears, I have come into my season.”

Temperature fluctuations and travel had taken its toll on his body and mind, confusing the beast within him and driving his urges wild. Although he claimed disinterest in you, you were his perfect match. He hated that. Your sweetness countered his terror, your haste in fights married themself perfectly his own brutal rage. He needed you to submit to him, and he needed to ensure you did so quietly to not bring you harm.

Your eyes widened further, your arms falling out to the sides as your body began to make a choice for you.

Rob Lucci was telling you he was consumed with the lust of the beast lingering beneath his skin and swelling his adrenaline. Putting together the pieces yourself, it seemed the animal within had chosen you to breed whilst in the middle of a mission. While you did find Lucci attractive, his abrasive and standoffish attitude pushed back your desires for him. You would rather approach Kaku to date than Rob Lucci. He was at least reasonable in your eyes. The only redeeming quality about Rob Lucci was that cute little pigeon he usually traveled with.

“I would never ask this of you,” he halted his steps towards you, his body trembling beneath the physical strain of holding himself back, “But I can’t contain it for much longer. If, just for a moment, you could consider allowing me to be close to you,” his snout protruded, his eyes darkening as his lust deepened, “Just inhaling your scent could sate me. I wouldn’t need to c-claim you. Just allow me to hold you for a moment, a-and I can repress the need to-... fuck you.”

More of his body gave way. His calves extended to a taller stature as his chest broadened with his skin stretching and darkening over his body to the warm gold and dark spots you had only even seen in battle. You had never been darkened by his terrifying silhouette before, never having his animality facing you. Only ever having worked beside him in this form, your heart began to panic.

Your strength was haste in battle. Scrapping with a flurry of jolts while using your speed to counter opponents twice your size. While you attempted to scream at your body to rid it of its fear and stand your ground, your training immediately kicked in and your reflexes propelled you to run.

“Don’t run.”

The barked order only ignited your need to flee to safety. Immediately picking up your heels, you sprinted at your full speed throughout the heavily wooded area. You barely heard the roll of "No!" roaring from his chest as you ran.

Branches snapped beneath your feet as you sprinted towards your freedom, attempting to remain as quiet as you could with the man clawing at your achilles. Your body pushed you to full acceleration, your chest burning from the intensity of your adrenaline swelling your veins. Knees brushing with the shrubbery, breath controlled and steady, you continued to run until you felt yourself far enough from the beast to hide.

Concealing yourself to the best of your ability on the moss-covered forest floor, you crawled backwards beneath the coverage of a fallen tree trunk. Your heart pounded in your chest as you heard the heavy panting of the leopard-man tracking you. Lucci was cold, calculated, borderline sociopathic, and usually without emotion. You felt you would be able to reason with Jabra or Kaku if they were like this, even giving into them if they’d asked politely enough. But Lucci scared you.

You heard heavy sniffs of the air, prompting you to raise your palm to clap over your nose and mouth to stifle your shocked breathing. You had absolutely lost the trail of your target now, choosing to run from your colleague while he lost control of himself in lieu of following them and bringing them in. Scrunching your eyes tightly shut, you felt four sets of heavy paws digging into the branch on top of you.

Holding your breath, you made yourself as small as possible. Legs tucked into your chest, arms around your calves, and palm still clapped over your lips, you hid from the monster searching for you. Heavy inhales and deep rumbling purrs shook the air within Lucci’s chest and shook you to your soul.

Behind the shroud of your eyelids, all you could picture was the man transformed into the beast above you. What would it be like to finally be caught by him? What would he do? Could he be reasoned with? Would he immediately attempt to fuck you into submission?

You did not have to ponder for much longer as the bark split beneath his claws, severing a hole in your makeshift covering with the tear in the fallen trunk. You stifled your scream, scampering to both flee outwards and bury yourself deeper inwards beneath what remained of the shelter. The two options fighting within your mind had your body uncooperative to your whims. As you finally chose to flee outwards, two large paws circled your ankles and tugged you back in beneath the large trunk.

The animal had captured you, pinning you beneath him and growling into your face. Back laying flush with the ground, your widened eyes peered up at the half-shifted man caging you within his extended arms. His jaws split into a large snarl, saliva connecting his upper and lower jaw as he roared down at your body.

Turning your head to the side, you expected him to bite and claw at you: hastily slashing your throat and leaving you to die in a pool of your own demise weeping out of you. But it never came.

In lieu of such pain and slaughter from the man turned beast, you felt a friction on your stomach down over your clothed cunt. Your neck turned, his beastial jowls pulling back and extending his coarse tongue to roll over your flesh and swipe at your pulse. His hips snapped feverishly forwards, rutting his red-tipped cock against you while staining your pants with his damp precum. Inhaling your scent, he lapped at your neck and began to gnaw at the muscle: not enough to break the skin, but firm enough to hold you steady while he rubs his otherworldly cock against your clothed center.

“Mine,” he purred against your skin, his neediness increasing in the friction against your abdomen, “Mine.” His repetition of the word rose in volume the longer he rut into you. His glossy precum dribbled against your pants, completely dampening it while he continued to growl and preen against your neck. Each time it made contact in a crude glide against your clit, your breath hitched as arousal began to seep from your slit.

Rob Lucci was no longer reachable as the large leopard humanoid dragged his cock against your clothed heat. Gasps, grunts, and growls exited him as he continued on. He couldn’t finish like this. Not after the chase. He had you pinned beneath him, and the Zoan creature wanted to claim you completely as his prize.

Fabric broke as his claws ribboned the material of your pants. Your legs kicked out, but his knees pinned your thighs wide as his cock bobbed with need. Within the beast, Lucci was screaming at himself to at least have some semblance of decorum. He could see you through his otherworldly eyes, glaring at you as you squirmed beneath him.

“Still,” the beast growled, looking at your exposed cunt as it glistened with arousal. You scrunched your eyes shut and attempted to block the next few moments out. He was going to fuck you, just as he said he would, and he was going to be in this form while he did.

In another life, you could’ve seen you both continuing to work together, building a comradery rapport as you had been for the past year. You may have even called him friend by the end of it, perhaps being open to a relationship should he halt with his cold attitude and showcase some semblance of warmth.

“Look,” the rumbled order purred from above you. You opened your eyes, gently turning your head towards the man towering over your cowering form. The only reason you truly ran from him in the first place was due to the fright that overcame you at being on the receiving end of his wrath in this form. You would’ve never ran if you knew the kindness in the beast’s eyes as he stared down at you. His cock twitched as it made contact against your glistening pussy. His red tip leaked as he rubbed the engorged head against your clit.

“Mine.”

Pushing the tip within you caused you to squeak out in protest. Eyes wide and gazing up at the creature, your lip quivered as the leopard-man inched further into your entrance. Your body stretched to accommodate him, the earlier grinding of his cock against your clothed cunt withdrew enough arousal as your earlier rush of adrenaline paved the way for your lust to overcome you. Truthfully, you craved this. The way he possessively held you with a need no other partner had expressed. You had never felt so wanted in your life, and within the arms of the Zoan-Fruit user, your body gave in to the touch.

Relaxing your core, you gently reached a shaky hand to press against his furred jowls. Caressing his cheek, you darted your eyes between his with a soft nod. Unsure whether Lucci was truly reachable or not, you wanted to reassure your superior that you were okay: that this was okay. The way your body reacted was okay, and your need for him was okay.

The man peered down at you like you were a meal, taking a moment to lean in to that soft touch before fully giving in to his desires. Your wrists were hastily bound within his claws as he sheathed his cock completely within your heat. The swollen bulge at the base of his cock slammed against your body: your smaller size unable to take the swell within your pussy without preparation. Your stomach bulged with the sheer size of his cock entering you, as you silently screamed out in the fine line between pleasure and pain.

In his large left claw, he took both of your hands and rose them above your head while his right clutched at your hips. Without care, he lost himself in the feeling of your walls. You let out a soft whimper as the burn from the stretch intensified with each cruel glide. His hips snapped into yours at a punishing pace as his grasps bruised your hips and wrists. Repetitively spearing himself deep within your body, you felt your cunt beginning to clench eagerly around him.

“Mine,” he growled once more, his pace growing rabid and feral. His thrusts were deep and intense, never expelling his full length from your cunt as you struggled to accommodate him. The burn subsided into a dull ache as his tip slapped against your cervix, prompting your soft gasps to fall away to whimpers and soft whines. Your pussy molded to his shape with each powerful thrust, but never truly felt prepared enough to adjust to his pace.

You were a doll in his arms, his claim over you intensifying with the cruel piston of his cock in your slick heat. The way he seemed to hit all of the sensitive and pleasure forming nerves to make you cry out and clench around him had you gushing for him. You should be trying to push him off, chastising him for ruining your pants after chasing you through the forest, but each rock into your body had you getting wetter and wetter for him. You felt your body relaxing, the pit in your belly beginning to coil tight in the promise of a brutal orgasm rising.

The squelching of his cock meeting his knot at the base had him more wild and frantic the longer he pummelled you. Completely sheathed with a rapid flurry of anxious thrusts had his base drumming against your slit.

He was going to try and put it in.

“L-Lucci-!” Your strangled cry had him pushing harder into you. The swell of his knot rammed against you, your tight entrance prohibiting him from bullying its way into you no matter how hard the buck or rutt. He growled in response, releasing your wrists from above your head and surrounding your waist in his firm grip.

“Knot,” he roared, holding your waist firmer and attempting to slam his hips more intently against yours. Your pussy refused to budge, even though your mind screamed at it to allow him to. You knew he wouldn't stop until he entered that thick bulge into your slick heat, and you whimpered at the thought of him continuing to try to no avail.

“Lucci it won't fit-,” you tried, desperately willing him to listen to you. “I can’t take y-you like this. I-If you can turn back to your regular self, I-I can-.”

The leopard-man growled as he unsheathed his cock from you completely. You were shocked, thinking the man had come to his senses and was about to repress his animal urges and return to the cold, dark-haired man you knew him to be. Instead, he flipped you onto your stomach: face colliding with the moss-covered ground as he used the heel of his hand to arch the middle of your back and force your ass up.

In the same position that broke his hardened resolve in the first place, he immediately resheathed himself with a loud roar. The reverberations falling from his roar echoed within your chest, immediately making your pussy flutter around his hard, red cock. As the knot pressed up against you, he set a rapid and brutal pace hammering it against your slit. The heavy claps of your thighs meeting his hips had your eyes rolling in your skull, feeling completely claimed by him in the submissive position he’d curled you into.

Crouching back onto his hind legs and planting his heels, he snapped intently into his hips from behind, slotting you down onto his cock in heavy thrusts. With his hands now both circling your hips, removed from your back in a quick glide, he used the shameful amount of slick falling from your pussy to finally push himself over that ridge.

He managed to force his knot in with a single, intense thrust.

As soon as his knot settled into you, it caught on the ring of muscle at the base of your heat. You could taste the earth rubbed into your lips from the earlier spin, your abdomen wound in a tight vice as your orgasm halted as soon as he pressed his knot inside you. Right on the edge, and without a way to move against him to draw it forth, you felt his cock begin to twitch in the depth of your cunt none before reached. You needed something to tip you over, pussy tingling and abdomen shuddering while you whined and mewled out for him.

“Cum,” he barked down at you. His command immediately took root in your body, prompting it to submit to his wishes without question. At that order, you felt the waves of bliss crashing over you as you were shepherded into ecstacy. Your pussy began contracting and fluttering around his cock as the warmth of his own release emptied himself within you. He roared something that sounded like your name, the gurgled choke of his otherworldly voice breaking into his usual tone.

“I-I’m cumming,” you cried out, screaming his name and a babble of incomprehensible words as your tears began to leak from the corners of your eyes, “Lucci, nnngh- I’m cumming.” You were in ecstasy, never before feeling so full and stretched by a partner prior. Viscous cum began flooding your abdomen and immediately splashing back against the base of your cervix. The knot at his base acted like a plug: holding the entirety of his load deep within you and choking you with how much volume it truly was.

Lucci rolled the both of you onto your side, his cock still buried at the knot as the final twitches of his cock deeply spilling into you had you gasping for air. Your soft tears began to build up in intensity, rolling down your cheeks as your shoulders shook. Containing your whimpers in your lips after such a hefty release coming out of nowhere, you drew your hand up once more to press over your lips and nose. Eyes scrunched shut, you tried to contain yourself as you were overcome with heavy emotions. You replayed the events from the day, hoping it would make sense if you focussed it enough.

Your colleague had propositioned you, and while you didn’t say ‘no’, you also didn’t say 'yes,' until he was already buried within you. Terror at his otherworldly form compelled you to flee, and that chase exhilarated you to the point where your fright became arousal. Tearing through your clothes, he bullied himself into you to the point your teeth chattered at the stretch, but it didn’t feel wrong. It felt almost as if you were meant to be his-.

“-Mate,” Lucci’s voice softly purred at you. His tongue lulled out and began to drag the coarse muscle against your neck. Slowly lapping at your skin, the barbs on his lengthy pink tongue collected a few of your tears and pulled them back into his mouth. His body relaxed against you, his muscle deflating at the ring of your pussy circling at his base. The arm around your waist began to melt back to the flesh of his mortal self.

“Lucci, I-.” He hushed you by drawing you back further into his arms, nuzzling his forehead into your neck while inhaling deeply. His cock was still buried, knot throbbing as he reduced back into the mortal you knew him to be.

“-I warned you not to run,” he whispered huskily against you. His lips met your skin and pressed a warm and gentle kiss into it, “I would’ve been so much more gentle.” Another kiss melted against your skin, his words rolling easily off his tongue and pressed into you. “It could’ve been so much more beautiful. Not like...,” he twitched his cock, still deflating at the knot as he shifted back into his usual self, “...This.”

You whimpered at the twitch, with a chuckle met in response from the man behind you.

“Did I hurt you?” he asked, almost shyly in comparison to his usual cold-heartedness. You gently shook your head in ‘no,’ knowing truly that you would have a dull ache and burn as soon as you managed to struggle shakily to your feet.

“Liar,” he muffled his lips over your pulse, his gentleness continuing as he began fixing your shirt from behind you. “You took me well, like you were made for me.” You hid your head in your hand, feeling truly fatigued and grimy after that full chase and having his cock buried balls deep within your pussy.

After taking a moment to calm yourself down with a few gulps of air, you addressed the man behind you as your superior.

“We lost track of the target,” you stated monotonously, “They will not be pleased with our failure.” Lucci hummed behind you, pressing his forehead to the base of your skull and inhaling now his muzzle fell back into his human appearance. He drank in your scent in any of his forms, taking you in and creating a memory of the harmony falling from your skin and rising in his lungs.

“I don’t care. We will find them again,” he nodded, pulling back and taking a look at your body against his. You were so small, and your skin was flushed and sweaty from sprinting. “Rest now.” You nodded, your brows furrowing as you felt him still buried deep within you. The swollen knot continued to pulse against your walls, the thrum of your heartbeat deep within your pussy matching the join bulbing at his hilt. You truly felt as one with him, and you didn’t quite understand it.

“What did you call me?” You asked him quietly, “You called me something. Your-.”

“-My mate, yes,” he confirmed, settling himself behind you. Using his hand to gently caress your skin, he moved it up and down your arm before settling over the bulge in your stomach where his cock was buried. “Regardless to how you feel about me, whether you hate me, loathe me, or tolerate me for the sake of the missions: you are my mate. Mine.”

You took a moment to think on it, rolling the thoughts over in your mind and the earlier terror his form induced in you.

“I don’t know if I want that, sir,” you confessed to him in a voice so soft it almost went unheard. Lucci tensed behind you, his muscles growing taut and already beginning to swell into his other form. He tried to calm the beast within down, managing to sate it with a few intentional breaths. Leaning into your ear, his lips and breath tingled the shell and lobe of your skin while he extended his threat with a sense of promise.

“When you wake every day with my face between your thighs, lapping at your cunt and making you cum over and over again on my face, you might change your tune,” he purred, gently tugging on your lobe with his extended canines. “When you take my knot in my office, crying and squirting on it while I hold a vibrator against that pearl at the top of your pussy, you will have it melt into your memory.” You squeaked as you felt his hand dip down between your legs and gave the tip still pulsing at the top of your pussy a gentle pinch, “When the other Zoan’s notice my scent on your body, taste our lust in the air, and see my seed dripping down your thighs beneath your uniform, you will know for sure.”

“Know what, sir?” You asked him, turning to face him with rounded eyes. His human eyes swelled into yellowed slits, his pupils blowing in lust as he rolled your arousal around your slick pussy. His cock swelled within you, although his knot began to deflate. He slowly began to rock into you, fucking his cum back into you with slow and heavy motions.

“You’ll know who you belong to,” he whispers, his lips meeting the corner of your mouth as his bucking kept its steady pace, “You’ll know who will protect you as his own.” His lips traveled further up to half covering your mouth. “You’ll know who will never leave you for wanting in this life.” His hand drew up to the tip of his cock buried within you, pushing down on your stomach while he fucked steadily into you. “You’ll know you’re mine.”

“Yours?” you gasped, already feeling the need begin to rouse in your abdomen. Lucci’s lips covered your own, his pace beginning to pick up as he felt his own need swell in his stomach within his human body. Tongues colliding, teeth gnashing, he sloppily fucked into you while he passionately kissed you with all of the emotion he no longer repressed. While it was not yet love, you could feel the beginnings of the fresh sparks rising between you. Pulling away, he bore his intense and possessive gaze into your eyes, uttering one word that had you immediately almost cum there and then.

“Mine.”

And you were his, just as much as he was yours.

Tag list: @mfreedomstuff @daydreamer-in-training @since-im-already-here @gingernut1314 @writingmysanity @i-am-vita @indydonuts @feral-artistry @the-light-of-star @empirenowmp3 @racfoam @sunflowersatori @carrotsunshine @skullfacedlady @jintaka-hane @thenotsofantasticlifestory

#one piece #x reader #rob lucci #lucci #op lucci #lucci x reader #one piece x reader #rob lucci x reader #afab!reader #x afab!reader #friday the 13th event #monster loving #half shifting #monster x reader

1K notes · View notes

alexa-yukiyu · 1 year ago

Note

Just imagining cat child being a zoan cat type she loves napping in the sun(or cuddling against ace or marco) she would rather die than admit that she loves head pats.

When the crew gets to rowdy she just goes to nap next to pops.

Whenever they run into trouble on islands Ace is grinning before letting yn go and attack, because she's so tiny. She just bites the ankles

I think she'd get the nickname "ankle bitter"

Apawling Cattitude (Whitebeard pirates x f!Cat!child Reader)

A/N See what I did there 🐈 im so funny and goofy, anyhow I COOKED HERE, just pure cooked down below, especially on that ankle biter part 😎

Here Reader is replaced by Dokucha as place holder which stands for reader in japanese

Dividers by @/saradika

“Brother Marco, are you done yet?” the young child groans, lounging in one of his examining tables

“Not yet; there are still a few things I need to finish up,” Marco responds without even turning his head around

“I’m cold,” she whines

“There’s a storm outside, so I can’t warm up in the sun, and Ace fell asleep while eating again; you're the only source of heat around.”

He sighs, turning around on his chair and picking up the child from the table, putting them on his lap, and turning back around to his paper

“There, now will you let me finish these papers?”

She smiles, cuddling up to him and closing her eyes, basking in warmth

“You’re so warm, Brother Marco.”

“Yes, yes, I know, but you aren’t making my job easier.” He says as he works on finishing his papers, his actions betraying his words as he begins petting her head, scratching behind her ears

She hums, letting a loud purring sound at the sensation, leaning closer to him

He lets out a snicker at the sound

“Why are you laughing?” She mumbles

“Nothing.” He mumbles before continuing to scratch behind her ears

“I just remembered a conversation in which you said you did not fold at being petted,” he said with a chuckle

“Ten minutes ago, to be specific, if I am not mistaken.”

She jumps up at that, a frown on her young face

“I’ll have you know you are mistaken! I do not fold at something such as pets; I am not some stray cat!”

He raises his eyebrow

“Then, could you explain the purring I heard just a moment ago?”

“Yeah, you need to get your hearing checked.”

“Did you forget about my devil fruit?”

“Must be malfunctioning 'cause there is something wrong with em.”

“You’re such a brat; just admit you enjoy being petted.”

“Hmph,” she scoffed, jumping off his lap

“I'm going to go see if Brother Ace woke up; maybe his ears will be working better than yours, Brother Marco.”

He smiles, watching the child go, leaning his head on his hand

“Do come back if you want more,” he calls out

“Shut up!”

He snickers under his breath but says nothing else as she storms off

Tiny footsteps could be heard hitting against the boards of the Moby dick as Dokucha hurriedly made it to the mess hall, looking for her freckled brother, spotting the rambunctious man over in one of the tables

“Brother Ace, you’re up!” She hollered

Ace, sitting down in one of the tables with the rest of the brothers, quickly wolfs down his food at the sound of the voice

“What’s up?” He asks as he sees his sister approaching, raising an eyebrow

She stretches her hands towards him, opening and closing her hands

He chuckles at the motion before grabbing her and picking her up, placing her on his lap

“What is it, kitty cat?” He teases

“Nothing,” she smiles, cuddling up to him and his heightened warmth

“Sure.” He chuckles, rubbing her ears gently as they are on his hands

“Then why the sudden rush to see me?”

“Brother Marco was being mean, and I was cold,” she mumbles

He chuckles at the small girls voice

“Oh was he? You mean your kitty purr didn’t work on him?”

“I don’t purr!” She said once again, jumping up, glaring at him

“Hah, really?!” he gasps in fake surprise

“Could have sworn I heard it, din’t you, Thatch?” he asked with a grin, looking at his brother, who was putting some plates down on the table

Thatch chuckles, shaking his head with a grin

“I did hear a small purr, yes.”

She pouts about to tell them off when one of the tables when up in an uproar; by the look of it, one of her brothers had started a drinking competition once again

She sighed, jumping off Ace’s lap and continuing on her way to find a place to nap in peace

Whitebeard hums as he hears soft knocking at the door of his chambers

“Come in.”

“Papaw!” She whines, climbing her way into his bed

He chuckles as she climbs all over his bed

“Gurararara” he laughs scratching her head.

“What is it? Is there something you need?”

“Mess hall is too noisy; I wanna nap,” she said, cuddling into his chest with a smile, sighing in relief

“There,There .” He said strokinb her hair as she cuddles into his chest, his own soft smile growing as he looks down at his little one

“Sleep here for now, brats know to keep it down around here”

“Thank you, Papaw”

“Make sure to sleep well.”

Dokucha now sat on top of ace’s shoulders, leaning her face and hands on top of his head as they walked

“What are we looking for again?”

“Izou left ahead of us to intercept the guys we were after; we are his backup,” he answered as he briskly walked through the grassy field

“I see him. Okay, ankle biter, you’re up,” he said, grabbing the girl from his shoulders and putting her on the ground, kneeling down on the ground next to her

“See the guy with the red shirt? He’s a long-distance sniper; I need you to take him out while I go help Izou with the melee fighters.”

She grins, her two incisors poking out of her mouth as she did

“Bite?” she said, looking at her brother, waiting for permission

“Yes, you can bite; go get ’em.”

She grins, shifting into her cat form and running closer to the guy; once close enough, she began prowling, silently approaching the guy until she was right next to them, at which point she pounced on them, making quick work of them, removing their going and easily gaining a surrender

She shifted into her human form, grinning as she kneeled on the now fainted man, chuckling as she watched her brothers make quick work of the rest of the enemies

“Impressive.” Izou praised her, approaching the girl, Ace following behind him, looking down at the man she had incapacitated.

“You’re getting better at that,” he grins, rubbing her head

She gives him a toothy grin in response, purring at the affection

As a reward for her hard work, Izou decided not to comment on the very obvious purring coming out from her as he continued rubbing her head , her ears tilting and twitching as she enjoyed her hard-earned pampering

That scene where Dokucha was kneeling on top of the guy, I was thinking of that one scene where young shanks was doing the same, eating chocolate (?)

Shanks really be stealing hearts since back then, I ‘ll take 1000 chapters on Roger pirates, Thank you < 3

Taglist:

@imaginarydreams

@amethystviolin

@h0n3y-l3m0n05

642 notes · View notes

nyarlathotep-thecrawlingchaos · 10 months ago

Text

Next chapter incoming

I didn't except it this soon, either.

It's still writing itself and dear GODS I hope this momentum continues.

Flight Risk

Young!Mihawk x Marine!AFAB!Reader

Ch.8 of who even fcking knows like maybe ten-ish...? First Chapter Link for newcomers, will update with other chapter links soon

Brief summary of The Story So Far: Your mission, as a Marine and Zoan type devil fruit user (gray parrot), is to gather intel on Dracule Mihawk, a pirate on the Grand Line who has become a thorn in the Marines' side over a relatively short period of time. You're his prisoner now, and you have no real hope left that you can see aside from his acceptance of the Warlord proposal.

We're venturing into NSFW territory in this chapter. So Warnings for that, and continued Yandere stuff.

Wordcount: 3588

Taglist: @i-am-vita, @browneyedhufflepuff, @h0n3y-l3m0n05, @littleleelee, @nerium-lil, @dragon-bubs , @animefreak818 , @byysandra , @lufemia , @gizamalblythe, @lufemia @schanwow

You guys are all amazing tysm!!!!!

The first time you had awoken in the castle on Kuraigana Island, you had jumped so badly you had very nearly reverted straight out of your devil fruit form—and that in itself would have marked the end of your mission before it had even truly begun, given you had fallen asleep perched on Mihawk’s shoulder.

You jolted awake just as violently this time, and the first thing your gaze fixed upon was his sharp yellow eyes. You did panic for a moment, attempting to shift back into the avian form you had grown so accustomed to over the past two months, before remembering exactly where you were—lying across the cold stone floor of the dungeons.

Exactly how you had come to be here—by making the mistake of sneaking about in the middle of the night to call Bogard and inform him that you had no choice but to shift to plan B and propose the offer of Warlord status to your target.

Your target, who was seated in a chair in your damp, dark dungeon cell, staring down at you with a speculative frown.

“Awake at last.”

You winced as you strained against the floor to pull yourself up into a sitting position, too groggy for a moment to register why you were having such a difficult time, until the seastone shackles around your ankles clinked and rattled with your movements. Right. He had made completely sure that you wouldn’t be capable of escaping.

“You chose a particularly inopportune moment to faint earlier,” he commented, crossing his arms. “We were discussing this Warlord offer your superiors are considering presenting me with.”

You only vaguely recalled bringing it up—it must have been in the moments just before you lost consciousness. It was clear he had left you alone at some point during your slumber. He now had his open trench coat draped around his shoulders, his sword leaning against the corner of the cell. He traced your line of sight over to it and gave a small chuckle.

“Don’t worry yourself, dear. I simply prefer having my blade close. Though I’m sure you know that. You know a great deal more about me than I do you, after all. But I’m sure,” he went on, standing from the chair. You pressed your back against the wall as he approached you slowly, the toes of his boots coming to stop mere inches from your bare feet as he looked down at you, “that will come to change in time.”

He held his hand down toward you. You stared at it for a moment, before slowly lifting your hand, your breath catching as he took it in his with an almost gentle grip, this thumb tracing across your knuckles for a moment.

“You don’t have a fighter’s hands,” he said, turning your hand over, his much larger, rougher fingers tracing across your smooth palm. “Have you trained in anything aside from subterfuge?”

“Basic combat,” you said. “I’m best with throwing weapons and small blades.”

“Ideal for your stature and talent in stealth operations,” he commented.

He gave a small, thoughtful hum—then wrapped his hand around yours and pulled you to your feet, grabbing you by your hip before you could stumble straight into him. He turned with you and moved a hand to your shoulder, pushing you down into the chair he had just vacated himself.

“And, purely out of curiosity, what of your knowledge in birds?” he asked, pacing around the side of the chair slowly. “I can’t imagine you learned any of that from your Marine comrades.”

You shook your head, swallowing as his shadow fell over you from behind, glancing over at his hand resting against the back of the chair. “M...my mom,” you said quietly, your stomach churning at the sudden thought that you would probably never see her again. “She’s an ornithologist. Specializing in parrots and corvids. She runs a rescue service for them. I learned everything from her.”

“And yet you chose to join the Marines?” he said, amused. “Perhaps your father’s influence?” You gave a short nod. “Of course. Could have stayed at home on the farm, safe and sound, and yet...here you are. But I suppose it did give you the experience necessary to utilize your devil fruit to its fullest effect. I can see why your superiors chose you for this task. Not many could have pulled it off as well as you did.”

You felt the chair creak behind you as he leaned down against it, sending a cold chill down your spine as he reached up to brush your hair behind your ear, to tilt his head and fix you with an amused smirk as your shoulders grew stiff as stone.

“That was a compliment, little bird,” he said lightly, tracing his index finger slowly down the curve of your neck. “What do we say when someone compliments us?”

“Th—thank you,” you forced out, swallowing. “S-sir.”

“Good girl,” he lilted softly, close to your ear.

You thought you might faint all over again when he briefly pressed his lips to your temple before straightening back out and lightly ruffling your hair. As gentle as his actions seemed, they were laced with a thinly veiled threat—a threat that if you did anything other than what was asked of you, what he expected of you, there would be swift and severe repercussions. He didn’t have to say it for you to know it to be true.

“Are you able to provide me with the full details of this whole Warlord proposal?” he asked, moving around to the other side of the chair. He stopped in front of you, crossing his arms. “Or will you need to contact your superiors?”

“They would know more than I would,” you said quietly—and that wasn’t a lie. You had been given the basic details, but he would need to speak with someone of much higher rank than you to garner any further information. “I—I can call them. They’d likely want to set a meeting if you’re interested—”

“Let’s not get too ahead of ourselves,” he said. “I’m interested to hear more of what the World Government might consider a mutually beneficial arrangement between pirates and Marines. I haven’t said I’m interested in the offer itself yet. That being said…”

You shifted back in the chair when he knelt down in front of you, reaching into his pocket—but all he pulled out was a small ring of keys. You recognized the Marine insignia etched into the metal ring before he lifted your foot and turned one of the keys in the shackle wrapped around your ankle.

“I am interested to speak to your commanding officers,” he said, lowering your foot back down. He lifted the other, and paused with the key in the lock, his sharp eyes darting up to meet yours. “You will accompany me to the study in the tower below my bedchambers. Should you make any attempt to escape or use your devil fruit ability, I don’t think I have to tell you what will happen.”

You swallowed, nodding quickly in understanding. “Y-yes, sir.”

“Very good. I was fairly sure you’d understand.” You bit your lip as he slipped his hand slowly up the length of your calf, his palm coming to rest against the side of your thigh just above your knee, his eyes remaining on yours as he turned the key and pulled the shackles away from you. You flinched as he lightly squeezed his hand around your thigh, keeping his hand there as he stood and rested his other hand against the back of the chair, hovering over you. “You’ll stand slowly, and you’ll walk in front of me. I don’t think there’s any need for me to hold your hand like a child. You ought to know your way around fairly well by now.”

“Y...yes, sir,” you repeated weakly.

Hundreds of thoughts swam through your head as you lead the way from the ground floor of the old, expansive castle to the eastern tower—whether you would ever see or speak to your mother again, how Garp and Bogard would respond to the news that you were compromised, whether or not you would even live to see the light of the next morning, why Mihawk was being so gentle with you, why you felt a flutter deep in your stomach every time he touched you.

Why, for the entire duration of the walk up to the study, with him even stopping once to allow you to venture alone into a small bathroom to clean yourself up and tend to any other personal needs—why you didn’t once consider the possibility of a potential escape plan.

He expected you to comply—he wouldn’t expect you to shift into your devil fruit form at the nearest window and take flight off into the quickly darkening evening sky.

Yet the thought only crossed your mind once he sat in the armchair behind the desk in the study, the thought of why you hadn’t considered the possibility. Before you could consider it any further, he lifted his hand and motioned for you to come over, leaning forward to pull the den den mushi across the desk toward him.

“You’ll call your superiors,” he said, his gaze not once leaving you as you slowly crossed the room. You nodded, stopping in front of the desk and reaching for the device. “No.” He pulled it further out of your reach, motioning for you again. “Come here.”

You tensed at the sharpening of his tone, and moved around to the opposite side of the desk with a little more urgency, stopping a few feet away from him, your eyes flickering between his yellow irises and the snail.

Closer, when he motioned for you again, stopping at the side of the chair, staring down at your feet as you shifted your weight between them.

You glanced up when he lifted his head again, pointing down at the floor and making a small, tight circular motion. “Turn,” he instructed.

You obeyed immediately, turning around slowly, arms crossed tight across your churning stomach.

“Better. Now…”

Your eyes clenched shut when he wrapped his hand around your wrist, gasping in alarm when he pulled you down, down onto the chair with him, your back against his chest. His hand left your wrist to brush against your hair, tucking the strands behind your ear and your shoulder.

And they shot open again when you felt him lean forward behind you, his broad torso pressed against your back, watching him grab the receiver of the den den mushi.

“Make the call for me, pet,” he said, handing it to you before pulling his arm tight around your waist, holding you against him as he leaned back again. “And keep quiet unless I say otherwise. Is that clear?”

“Y-yes, sir.” You couldn’t speak in anything more than a strained whisper, your face flaring with heat, immediately reaching forward to dial the number at his command and holding the receiver between his ear and your own.

You shut your eyes again when you heard a familiar, gruff voice answer.

“Vice Admiral Garp. If you have this number you know what to do.”

“Vice Admiral Garp,” repeated Mihawk, sincerely surprised. “Garp the Fist. Hero of the Marines. My, my. I suppose I should be honored.” You drew in a sharp breath as his fingers curled lightly, possessively around your waist, as he turned his head and rest his forehead against your temple, his voice soft and warm against your ear. “I had no idea the adorable little pet you sent me was so important.”

You flinched at the sharp static that came through the other line for a moment, as if the old vice admiral had tightened his hand considerably around his own den den mushi.

“Dracule Mihawk,” he growled in response. “Where the hell is she?”

“Safe,” he responded. “Unharmed...relatively. Though I imagine she must be quite frightened, wondering what I plan to do with her.” You nearly whimpered when he reached across, curling a strand of your hair around his index finger. “Quite the gifted little spy. I might never have known what she truly was had I not overheard her conversation two nights ago.”

“Dammit, kid…” you heard Garp grumble under his breath. Then, louder, in a more commanding tone, “You’ve got two options, Hawk-Eye. You can let her go, or I can come get her myself.”

“With an entire armada of Navy vessels in tow, I presume?” he responded, sounding as if the idea bored him. “You’re not really in the position to be making threats, old man. The cadet is unharmed...for now. And really. You send me such a pretty little pet and expect me to sen her right back before I’ve even had any time to enjoy her company?”

You held your breath as his hand drifted down from your waist, his fingers brushing against the top of your thigh just below the hem of the over-sized shirt he had given you to wear.

“Call her your pet again, you sick son of a b—don’t—let go of that—”

“Mmm?” Mihawk hummed quietly, curiously at the sound of the brief scuffle at the other end of the call. You were fairly certain you knew what it meant, and...it was probably better that Garp didn’t handle this. Your suspicions were confirmed a moment later when another voice came through the call, far more curt but just as familiar to you.

“Read Admiral Bogard. My apologies for the vice admiral’s boorish behavior. He doesn’t handle negotiations well when it concerns one of our own. I presume this is a negotiation and you didn’t simply call for the sake of gloating?”

“Your presumption would be correct,” said Mihawk. “Though I admit, it was also to sate my own curisoty. I couldn’t help but wonder what sort of supposed men would send such an innocent, vulnerable young woman on what could easily have turned out to be a suicide mission.” He rested his chin against your shoulder, trailing his dingers slowly back up the length of your thigh, smirking as you pressed your legs together tightly and tiny goosebumps raised across the surface of your skin. “I guess I have my answer.”

“I take it you have no intention of returning her without hostile measures being taken,” said Bogard, ignoring the taunt from the pirate. “I will ask yhat you allow her to speak so I can ascertain for myself that she is, as you claim, unharmed.”

“Oh, but of course,” said Mihawk, his voice low and dripping with mockery, his mouth nearly brushing your ear. “She’s right here, after all. Go on, pet. Speak.”

“I’m not hurt,” you said quietly.

“You’re sure?” You gave a quiet affirmative hum in response to Bogard’s question—and then jumped in alarm when Mihawk jerked the receiver from your hand, only to push it into your oposite hand. You swallowed, keeping your eyes turned down to your lap, to his hand splayed across your stomach. “Am I correct in assuming he’s listening?”

“Y—yes, sir.”

It became immediately clear why he had moved the receiver to your opposite hand, to the opposite side of your head—you pulled in a small, sharp gasp as his mouth touched the shell of your ear.

“H-he can hear me,” you added quietly, clenching your eyes shut as his hand clenched around the thin material of his shirt that covered your stomach and half of your thighs, tugging it a few inches higher. You could feel his lips curl into a smirk against the edge of your jaw.

“I wonder,” he murmured, “how long you can keep your composure, pretty bird.” He chuckled lightly at the shiver his voice sent through you—a shiver that, no matter how much you wanted it to be, wasn’t entirely in fear.

“Does he have any intention of harming you that you’re aware of?” asked Bogard. His tone was lighter now, but still kept its usual air of authority

“I—I don’t think so,” you said, fighting to keep your breath level as Mihawk trailed his lips lightly down the length of your neck, lifting his free hand to your jaw, urging you to lie your head back. You obeyed the silent command, your shoulders tensing as the back of your head fell back against his shoulder. “H—he-he wanted more details on the offer. The—the Warlord—”

“I’m sure he does,” said Bogard curtly. “And I’m more than willing to discuss it with him. Our immediate concern at the present is your safety. Are you able to tell us where you are?”

“I…”

“Go ahead, little cadet.” You swallowed at Mihawk’s low, amused murmur against your neck, his words affirming that he could still hear both ends of the conversation. “Tell Mommy and Daddy exactly where you are.” You bit back a whimper as he nipped lightly at your neck, his hand at your chin drifting down the column of your throat, stopping to circle a finger around the top button of your shirt.

“A study in one of the towers in the castle on Kuraigana Island,” you forced out quickly, tour words pressing together as he lifted you by your hip and shifted your position, pressing his knee between your thighs to push them further open.

“Alright. Good.” Bogard’s words sounded more distant to you with every passing second, your focus shifting to Mihawk’s hand slipping open the top button of your shirt. “You sound weak.”

“S-seastone,” you said quietly, fighting to keep the tremor out of your voice as the second button came loose, revealing the top of your plain white bra. You bit your lip, watching him push the shirt open enough to trace his fingers along the edge of the undergarment. “Seastone shackles. So I can’t use my devil fruit ability to escape.”

Even though he had removed the shackles before leading you up here, it was the first explanation that jumped to your mind to account for the low, trembling quality of your voice.

“Seastone. Of course,” Bogard said coolly. “Should have guessed. Wouldn’t have been difficult to salvage from one of the hundreds of our ships he’s destroyed…” He let out a sigh. “Do your best to stay safe. Do not attempt to escape on your own. Is that understood?”

“Mm—mm-hmm,” you hummed, almost whimpered, biting down on your bottom lip as Mihawk tugged the last few buttons of the shirt open, moving his hands to your shoulders to push the material down.

“Off,” he murmured against you jaw. “And you’ll hand the phone back to me.”

“H—he wants to—”

“Then put him back on,” said Bogard.

You quickly shifted the phone back to your other hand, and Mihawk plucked it away, holding it out at arm’s length as he briefly leaned in, his lips brushing the corner of your mouth as he commanded once more, “Off, pretty girl. Let me see you. I won’t ask again.” He pulled the receiver to his ear as you complied, trembling as you slowly shrugged the material away from your shoulders, pulling it free from your arms. “Bogard, was it?” you heard him say. “Oh, yes. I am very interested to hear more of how your people think any pirate might be inclined to consider becoming a government lapdog.”

He tugged you back against him again the moment you were free of the shirt, his fingertips tracing leisurely circles over the plane of your stomach.

Drifting higher and higher, playing against the edge of your ribs.

Slipping just beneath the lower edge of your bra, his lips curling into a smirk at the way you tensed against him, in some mix of anxiety and anticipation, growing less and less able to differentiate between the two.

Clenching your eyes shut and biting your tongue against a small whimper as he pushed his hand higher, cupping the swell of your breast in his palm, squeezing his fingers lightly around the pliable flesh.

You could hear his voice as the conversation dragged on, his tone as curt and professional as Bogard’s, but you could scarcely make out a single detail of his words with his rough hand brushing across your breasts, occasionally rolling around the sensitive points of your nipples, forced to use every ounce of your will to keep yourself silent—to pull your own hand up to cover your mouth and muffle a small cry when he lightly pinched one of the sensitive protrusions near the end of the conversation.

“Well, that’s all very intriguing,” he said with a light chuckle as he pulled you tighter against him. “I’ll have to take a bit of time to consider such a tempting proposal. I think...oh, forty-eight hours? Well, if that’s acceptable for you, then it’s more than acceptable for me.” You tensed as he shifted his hand beneath your bra, whimpering as he pinched your nipple a bit harder. “Ten o’clock, two days from now. Perfect. And be sure to inform your vice admiral that I’ll take very good care of our little cadet in the meantime. Oh, of course. No harm at all.”

He lowered his head, continuing in a murmur against your ear, his breath hot against your neck.

“She might not even want to return to your command once I’m through with her.”

#one piece #opla #mihawk x reader #mihawk #dracule mihawk #dracule mihawk x reader #yandere #yandere mihawk #fan fiction #one piece fan fiction #one piece fanfic #mihawk x reader fanfic #dracule mihawk x reader fanfic #flightrisk

246 notes · View notes

hannahbarberra162 · 1 month ago

Text

Mating Call, Part 2 (Marco x Reader, dubcon, Monster Marco)

18+ MDNI | on Ao3

The first part

Zoan fruit users are driven to find their mates, seeking someone to fill the gnawing need within them, even if they don't recognize it themselves.

Thank you to @gouraminnow for reading the rough draft! There's another thank you at the end to avoid chapter spoilers :3

You startled awake as a sharp cry pierced through the early morning light, sitting straight up and scanning the area. Your nervous system was on full alert as you quickly looked for the emergency, the instinct ingrained in you after your years in medical school and residency. After a moment, you relaxed as you remembered you were in a cave with the Phoenix. Right, right. Kidnapped by stupid pirates and trapped with the world’s most temperamental fiery bird.

You yawned and stretched, awake for the day. Unfortunately you wouldn’t be able to go back to sleep now but maybe you’d be able to catch a nap later. You were still resting against the body of the Phoenix, which was more singed on its wings than it had been the day before. You leaned your head back against the Phoenix like it was an armchair. It out a small chirp, almost like a coo.

“You woke me up, you didn’t tell me I have to move yet. You gonna die and be reborn, huh? You better not die on me for real - then your buddies will kill me and I have tickets to see Soul King live in a few months. So just remember to be reborn from the ashes, and all will be well. Hell, I’ll take you with me if you get me out of here,” you said to the Phoenix. Using its flank for support, you stood up to see what Thatch had left for you to eat. You were desperate for some coffee but you wouldn’t get your hopes up. Walking towards the stone slab, you were arrested in your path by the Phoenix’s beak pushing you towards the back of the cave.

“H-hey, wait! I want - I’m hungry!” you pleaded with the Phoenix. It didn’t answer but continued to corral you behind itself. As you got a closer sight of the sharp beak, your jovial tone dropped as you remembered you were dealing with an apex predator. It was getting annoying being moved around like a piece on a chess board but you weren’t going to protest as long as you could see snapped femurs by the far wall.

“P-please! I just need some water,” you begged the bird. The Phoenix made a sound like a chuff as it pushed you further from your goal. It moved you to the back of the cave and stood up onto its long legs, the razor sharp talons at the end of its feet on full display. Now that it was standing, it took up the majority of the cave only leaving you a few feet for yourself.

Now that it stood up you could see more bones piled behind where it had been sitting, cementing your decision to let it do whatever it wanted without protest.

Despite the clear danger it presented you, you couldn’t help but admire its long golden tail in the morning light, the golden circles gleaming like coins as it fanned out behind the Phoenix. You tried to shift yourself to a slightly more comfortable position but the Phoenix puffed up, as if offended. It raised its foot, its sharpened talons inches from your face. You were technically a Marine, but you weren’t courageous like the fighting units - you screamed and screwed your eyes shut, awaiting your death like so many before you.

But it never came.

After a few moments of silence, you opened your eyes a sliver, you found the Phoenix’s foot wrapped around you, its talons close to your side as it curled its toes around you to keep you in place. Despite the proximity of its razor sharp claws to your skin, it hadn’t sliced or mained you in any way. Instead, it had taken one of the canteens in its beak and was dangling by the strap above your head, waiting for you to open your eyes. If you could guess the expression of the Phoenix, you would have said it was amused.

“Oh, um. Thank you?” you said, reaching for the canteen held high above your head. The Phoenix dipped its head down, handing you the water bottle. You grabbed it with shaking fingers before unscrewing the cap. You chugged from the metal container, suddenly realizing how parched you were. You drank until the canteen was empty, the Phoenix dipping its head once more to take the empty container from your hand.

Now that your thirst was slaked you relaxed in the grasp of talon that was still wrapped around your body. The Phoenix churred and looked at you, as if asking a question. You gave it a look before trying to guess what it was asking.

“Nah, I don’t need food just yet. Not really a breakfast person. I’ll get some later,” you said as you rolled your head on your neck. The Phoenix squawked in reply, making you startle in its grasp. “Or, um, I’ll ask you for some food?” you surmised, scared to upset the giant flaming bird. It trilled softly and started to unclench you from its grasp. It could understand you, so maybe Marco was in there somewhere even if he wasn’t coming out just yet. You waited until the claw completely opened before you moved, scootching a little beyond the now relaxed talons. It was clear that the Phoenix was running the show; you were just a monkey in its circus.

The rest of the morning wasn’t particularly eventful, and even relaxing in parts. It wasn’t like there was anything to do in the cave so you spent an hour or so observing the Phoenix. You doubted that many had the opportunity to do so, particularly not vets. The Phoenix wasn’t like any other bird you’d ever seen - it seemed to be a composite of the best features of many kinds of birds. It had the sharp, hooked beak of a bird of prey, its call like a songbird, the beautiful plumage of a parrot, and the body of water fowl. It was an interesting combination and his features blended together seamlessly, its features in harmony.

After a while of sitting in the cave, you started to get bored. You tried to go to the entrance, but were caught by the back of your shirt when you got too close to the platform that sat at the beginning of the cave. A stern look from the Phoenix cemented that it didn’t want you leaving.

“Please? I just want to sit in the sun. I can’t escape - where would I go?” you pouted. You really weren’t going to try, there wouldn’t be a point. The pirates had taken their boat and you had no doubt that the Phoenix would find you and gobble you up if you disobeyed.

The Phoenix trilled softly, which you took for acquiescence. You gave it a bright smile as thanks before slowly walked towards the patch of sun at the entrance to the cave, sitting in the center to warm yourself up. Its eyes remained trained on you as you continued doing nothing but this time feeling the breeze off the ocean. It seemed that the Phoenix didn't mind if you were sitting by the main entrance to the cave but it didn’t want you to leave. It was sometimes difficult to guess what the Phoenix was feeling or thinking but it was able to make this pretty clear.

Sitting in the sun was warmer but still uninteresting. You were trying to find ways to pass the time - so you began cleaning. Yes, it was a cave full of bones and soot and dirt - but you were used to the bones and you preferred a tidy environment, thank you very much. You spent some time organizing the supplies Thatch brought before deciding to sweep. You’d seen bones under the Phoenix too - you’d want to clean those out as well, if he let you.

After a while you realized you were humming to an old, familiar song - the first one that had turned you on to the Soul King, actually. There wasn’t anyone around besides the Phoenix, who was watching you with amusement. So despite your fear of public singing, you started singing “Binks’s Sake” as you picked up various human bones and threw them into a pile. Some were kind of interesting and you idly wondered who had been there before you and if someone new would be looking at your own bones soon.

After a few more minutes of soft singing, you paused and silently examined a particularly long femur - only to hear the Phoenix trilling back to you. You spun in surprise to face the Phoenix, who continued to watch you clean. The Phoenix's call was harmonious, almost lulling, as it continued the song you’d been singing. It cooed the last few notes you’d sung, as if asking you to continue.

“Oh, um. OK. I just - I don’t normally sing for anyone,” you stammered, a blush rising on your cheeks. You hadn’t thought it was listening that closely to what you were singing. The Phoenix repeated the notes again - it obviously wanted to continue.

“Alright, I’ll, um, I’ll try,” you hedged, picking up the femur again. You started the song at the beginning, the Phoenix joining along with you in perfect harmony. It wasn’t that you were good at harmonizing, it was. A smile had the corners of your mouth quirking upward as it continued the lilting tune. The two of you sang together until the end of the song, the Phoenix rewarding you by chirping loudly after the conclusion of the last note.

For the first time in your life, you didn’t feel self conscious singing in front of another being. You could think of a few reasons way. First of all, your audience was a giant bird. Secondly, it was probably going to kill and eat you in the next few days. Thirdly, Marco didn’t seem to be any closer to coming out or communicating with you, so really, what was the harm?

You spent quite a while happily singing with the Phoenix while you continued to work. It has an impressive ability to mimic, understand, and improvise. By early afternoon you’d run through your repertoire and taught it nearly all the Soul King songs you could remember. It had shuffled around as you cleaned and sang, allowing you to clean the edges of the cave and standing up to allow you to clean under it. Sweeping took a long while since you had to kind of whip the debris out with some leftover sacks instead of having a proper broom, but it didn't seem to mind. You cleaned as quickly as you could while under it, you didn't want to be squished to death accidentally. It had also made you take breaks for snacks, taking away your "broom" and handing you food and water like before. You ate the hard bread and cheese while continuing to hum "New World."

After you were done, you wiped your sweaty forehead on the back of your arm, taking stock of the now cleaner cave. It looked much better and now you could be eaten alive in peace. A squawk had your eyes snapping to the Phoenix, who was not enjoying the early afternoon. It had been docile while you were cleaning and singing but now if you were to guess it's feelings, it was agitated.

The Phoenix wing’s were nearly all singed now, the char working its way from the tips towards its mantle. It was an interesting phenomenon, the embers glowing a deep blue rather than the orange-red of normal fire. You frowned and approached it slowly, as if it was the spooked animal and not you. It was going to go through a rebirth cycle sooner rather than later, you thought, based on the rapid progression of its body turning to embers. The embers had spread exponentially, reaching its mantle under your watchful eye.

“Hm, I know this is a part of your life cycle, but I can’t imagine it feels that great,” you said sympathetically. Even though it was a gigantic mythical creature and also a billion Beri pirate, your heart couldn’t help but feel empathy for the poor bird. You stuck out your bottom lip as your fingers twitched to touch it. You weren’t sure if it would hurt you or not, so you kept away. The Phoenix tilted its head with curiosity and slowly spread its wing so you could get a closer look.

“Are you safe for me to touch?” you asked, your fingers raised again. It nodded and you extended your hand to touch the tip of a primary feather, where it had been singed the longest. Touching the glowing embers was a surreal experience - the sensation didn’t match the concrete features you could see with your eyes. The embers felt like touching a tingly cobweb, or a fog so thick you could reach out and grab it. But there was also a firm wing under your hand, the feathers not unlike those you’d seen before in a much smaller form. It was more ethereal than the solid form you’d rested against the night before.

“You really are a very interesting bird, I hope you know. Of course, your plumage is gorgeous, but the amalgamation of the best of the bird world isn’t something I’ve seen before, not to mention all the mythological features. I would love to study you for an extended period of time,” you remarked. The Phoenix looked proud and ruffled its feathers for you, pulling a giggle from your mouth.

“Yeah, yeah, don’t let it get to your head,” you said with a roll of your eyes. There wasn’t much to do after cleaning, so you sat back down near the mouth of the cave. After another half an hour or so watching the far off waves, you stood up and dusted your pants off. You were going to treat this like a vacation, you thought. A weird, deadly, mythical vacation that you did not sign up for, but a vacation nonetheless.

It was time to smoke and chill the fuck out.

Reaching into your pocket, you grabbed the baggy you’d gotten back from Fire Fist and pulled it out. Shaking it, you saw you had a decent amount, but if you’d known you’d be taken hostage you would have brought more. Regardless you didn’t have any papers to roll with and there wasn’t any paper in the items Thatch had left behind.

But there were apples.

You hastily started making an apple bong after grabbing a small knife off the table, your hands moving with practiced muscle memory. It didn’t take long for the bong to take shape, looking not too bad for not having made one in over a decade. Filling the top with weed, you looked around for something to light it with, already knowing what you’d have to use.

“Light me up,” you demanded of the Phoenix, holding out your apple. It snorted and averted its head. You huffed, annoyed that now it wasn’t interested in helping you.

“I know you can, I don’t think all those people were healed to death,” you snarked pointedly. The Phoenix chuffed but remained unconvinced, curling its neck to rest its head on its body. Fuck that, the stupid bird would help you get high one way or another, you weren’t gonna let it ignore you.

“Oh, you don’t think you can make a fire this small? Is that why you won’t? Too difficult?” you questioned, making your eyes as wide as they would go. The only way you’d ever gotten Rob Lucci to see you was by encouraging his competitive side, talking loudly about how Jabra’s health was absolutely perfect, how no one could be in better shape by measurable metrics. Maybe a similar idea would work for the Phoenix - or maybe it was just the weakness of the male ego.

The Phoenix’s head whipped to you and trilled as if in affront. It took in a deep breath and blinked slowly before extending its wing to you. At the very end of the tip of its wing was a tiny red ember, perfect for lighting up.

“Thank fuck,” you sighed with relief, touching the bowl to the bud before taking a deep inhale from your homemade bong. You took a few more deep rips, smoking from an apple not as smooth of an experience as you 2,000 Beri bong, but you’d also had worse. Wanted posters did not make good rolling papers. The Phoenix cooed and closed its eyes slowly, which you guessed was its method of rolling its eyes.

“If you wanna lecture me that smoking is bad for my health, save your breath. You’re a doctor too and based on the pictures I’ve seen of Marco there’s no way he doesn’t smoke,” you said, blowing a cloud of smoke from your mouth.

“You want some?” you asked the Phoenix, who was watching you again. It tilted its head as if in interest. “Not sure he gives any to you,” you mused, turning the apple in your hands. The Phoenix made a clicking sound, as if it was now impatient.

“Jeez, ok. I’ll um, hmmm. I’m not sure how to - I’ll shotgun you,” you declared decisively, more confident now that you weren’t as stressed. “I’ll inhale some and exhale it to you,” you explained. The Phoenix lowered its head as if you were doing it a favor and waited. You took the biggest hit you could manage from the apple, held it in for a moment, and gently blew the smoke into the Phoenix’s face, trying to aim for where you saw its nostrils were. They weren’t easy to see, but you prided yourself on being a good vet. You’d get that bird high, no matter what. Maybe it would chill the bird out as well, or help it feel a little more comfortable while it burned. It was an interesting thought - maybe you'd do research on the effects of weed on Zoan devil fruit users - with a lot of hands on experimentation.

The Phoenix gave you a contemplative look but didn’t move back to its former position, so it must have liked it enough. You repeated the process a few more times before smoking your fill. You got up to put the apple back on the table and meandered back into the cave. Making a bold move, you ambled up to the Phoenix and sat down with you back against it, not unlike how you’d slept the night before. You didn’t say anything and neither did it, as you felt every one of your muscles finally relax after…only one day of tension. How the fuck were you going to last until Thatch and Ace came back?

The thought flitted by as you started watching the transition of the Phoenix from its normal plumage to its singed form. Watching the waves of fire on the Phoenix was hypnotic, it reminded you of watching wind running through fields of wheat. There was no doubt in your mind that it was burning faster than ever. If you had to guess, it would be completely charred by late afternoon or early evening. You laid your head back on the Phoenix and closed your eyes.

Life on the Grand Line was an adventure.

You ended up taking a short nap on the Phoenix. It didn’t wake you this time, you realized as you rubbed your eyes, coming to after what felt like hours. After you woke up, it shook itself out and sidled to the front of the cave. You watched with interest - if the Phoenix left, maybe you’d have a chance for escape or at least a few minutes to yourself. The Phoenix turned to you and put its massive beak in front of your face, snapping it once. You shivered as the sharp edges of its mouth loomed in front of you while the Phoenix gave you a withering look. The message was clear - it was going to leave, but you were supposed to stay put.

“Alright, alright. I got it - I’ll be here,” you said, waving it off. You’d grown more comfortable with the bird, you didn’t think it was going to bite your head off over a little sass - it hadn’t been turned off by your sparkling personality yet. The Phoenix closed its eyes into a half lidded expression, almost seeming to smile. It lept off the edge of the cave, diving down below. You weren’t worried exactly, but you did peer over the lip of the cave just in case - only to see the Phoenix soaring upwards, its gaze trained on you.

You’d never seen anything so breathtaking.

It flew in circles while tracking you with its eyes, as if to make sure you were watching. It didn’t need to though, you couldn’t have taken your eyes off of it if you tried. Its blue flickering flames mesmerized you as it glided through the sky, its teal plumage a beacon of pure beauty. The blazing teal was accompanied by sooty black smoke that came off its charred wings and body, giving an ominous aura to the already threatening animal. By now the overwhelming majority of the bird was charred, perhaps exacerbated by its flight.

You watched it soar lazily through the sky, wishing not for the first time that you could soar among the clouds. You sighed dreamily as it did a loop in the sky before returning in front of the cave. What a life that would be, you thought, to be able to fly away from any of your problems - no limits as you soared through the air, your only limitations your physical ability…you wished you had your paints with you to capture its beauty.

Turning in a circle back towards you, the Phoenix flapped its massive wings rapidly as it gracefully landed, the soot from its flight making you cough as it blew in your direction. The Phoenix’s head immediately dipped to your own, inspecting you closely with its unnerving teal eyes.

“I’m good, I’m good. Just a lot of smoke in the air,” you said, covering your mouth while you coughed. The less time you spent in the wings of the Phoenix the better - you wanted to avoid whatever protective instincts were activating within it.

Which didn’t prove to be possible since just a short while later, the Phoenix fed you dinner handing you rations from what Thatch had left. Unfortunately, unlike breakfast when it handed you the entire pouch of water, this time it would hand you only a piece of food or the skein of water with its beak and take it back when you were done drinking. The Phoenix would only pass you more food when you’d finished chewing the last bite, making the feeding process much longer. Even though it was annoying, you were thankful it wasn’t feeding you like a baby bird at the very least.

You watched as the sun set over the waters, enjoying the lovely evening as the Phoenix kept offering you more food. It kind of reminded you of how animals would eat a lot before scarcity, or a time when they’d have to use a lot of energy. But maybe it just didn’t know how much a small human would eat, you thought with a shrug. Marco himself was seven feet tall or something like that and Zoan devil fruit users had to eat a ton to maintain their energy and forms.

After you’d finished eating and staved off the Phoenix from force feeding you anything else, it slowly limped farther back into the cave. It's drooping wings and shuffling gait showed its lethargy. By now there remained only one bright blue spot on its body, just over where its heart would be. The rest of the bird looked like a living ember, but instead of a pulsing red, teal was emanating from within the sooty, cracked flesh. It was disconcerting to see the embers glow and burn brighter as the bird breathed, sooty layers growing by the second over its body. The Phoenix settled itself into the farthest back corner of the cave, curling in on itself as its fire continued to burn out.

Your mind shrieked that you were in danger but the vet in you had you slowly approaching the Phoenix with your hands up. Its piercing gaze watched you approach but didn’t stop you, closing its eyes as you reached out to put a hand on its charred body like you had earlier in the day. Logically you knew it would be fine, this was its natural cycle that it had completed many times as per Thatch. But you couldn’t stop yourself from wanting to help. You laid your forehead on its body as you ran your hands over it, trying to offer it some kind of comfort in a trying time. It trilled softly but after a few minutes it gently shooed you away with its now charred beak, giving you space for once. You frowned as you went to go sit by the entrance to the cave, feeling impotent as you watched an animal in pain.

You sat down as far away as you could while still inside the cave to mull over recent events. Sitting in the still warm evening sun, you tried to rifle through your memory about Zoan Devil Fruits to see if there was something you could do to help. You were forgetting something key, something big, you were sure of it. Something to do with transformations and awakenings…

A burst of flames and a high pitched shriek had you gasping and looking back at the Phoenix. Instead of the nearly dead embers you’d been patiently watching before, there was now a full house size pyre in the back of the cave. The pragmatist in you was worried for potential cave collapse or the more likely outcome that you'd be burned alive, but realistically the fire wasn’t even hot at close range. A huge explosion of blue fire had you shielding your eyes with your arm, unable to bear witness to the Phoenix as it changed forms.

As you took cover it finally dawned on you, the realization striking you like lightning. A mate. That’s what allowed Zoan users to awaken their fruits - they needed to find their one true mate. That's why Zoan users had one of the lowest rates of awakening - the mate had to be compatible for both the Zoan and human sides. You’d skimmed over that section in the texts, disinterested in the process of their mate finding and only in the results of awakening. Your mouth hung open as the blue fire raged inside the cave, the flames now lapping only a few feet away.

The Phoenix wanted to mate you.

Scrambling to your feet, you made a mad dash for the exit of the cave in an attempt to flee before the Phoenix caught you. Maybe it would be vulnerable or weak during its transition time and you’d be able to make a hasty getaway. You weren’t going to be the mate to the Phoenix or Marco or anyone else in there. A bright blue wing suddenly sealed off your exit from the cave. You squeaked as you skid to a halt and fell down on your butt, scraping your hands against the rough floor of the cave. The Phoenix peered down at you as flames lept from its body to your own, your scrapes immediately healed.

“Why do you run, little mate?” a curious voice wondered inside your head. It didn’t take a genius to know that it was coming from the Phoenix, even if hearing the deep sonorous voice without your ears was disconcerting. It was glorious in its new form, no longer black and charred, but a deep, vibrant blue from head to talon. It blazed continuously, pulsing with vitality as you cringed backwards from the stunning display. There was no doubt in your mind that it was stronger than before, but you didn't want to find out by how much. Even you with your lack of fighting training could feel the raw power ebbing off the beast.

“Y-you can talk?” you asked, trying to buy yourself time and space away from the creature.

“I can do that and much more, mate,” it murmured seductively, watching you with half lidded eyes. It was folding its wing slowly back to its body, and you along with it.

“I’m not your mate, we’re not compatible like that,” you bluffed, raising your arms to protect your face.

“We are fated mates - we are compatible in all ways. Put down your arms. I would not harm you, especially not when I’ve waited so long to find you,” it scoffed as it folded you against its body. You tried pressing your hands against its chest to create some space but the creature was pure muscle and wasn’t giving you an inch to wriggle away.

“The v-vessel? Marco? He’s in there? Can he come out?” you asked, now cringing away as the Phoenix’s beak came close to your neck. Since being reborn it had changed to a smaller size - you guessed it was around 10 ft tall now - but that was still almost double your own height.

“Such a smart mate, you don’t need me to tell you, hm? Of course he’s here - he pretends he is unhappy about this outcome but he is as pleased as I. it bothers him that you were taken against your will, but it was not I who stole you, yes? The vessel enjoys the same pastimes and finds you both physically appealing as well as mentally stimulating. He cannot emerge now, not until I am sated, but he agrees that you are a perfect mate for us,” the Phoenix replied.

Fucking great. Marco, a Whitebeard Commander you’d never met, liked you back. Amazing, the perfect meetcute, you thought sarcastically. Your mind snapped back to attention as the Phoenix closed the gap between you, its head dipping down to look you in the eyes.

“I’m - I’m sorry, I don’t - I don’t want to be your m-mate,” you hesitated, the fear clogging your throat making it hard to get the words out.

“Then why did you participate in the courting, dear mate?” it purred, smugness radiating from it. “You cleaned and prepared our nest, slept on my body, were fed by my hands, sang your sweet warbles with me, shared your wares, even came to me in my time of need. One might mistake that for affection, no?”

“I - I…” you didn’t really have a reply. You had done those things, willingly even. You just didn’t think it would end by being mated to a mythological creature.

“You observed my transformation hasten with your arrival - I even waited to claim you until I took a smaller form so as not to hurt you. Do not worry, you will be unharmed, save for the claiming. But I cannot wait much longer - I grow rabid for you.” It husked, moving its head back once more. It took a step backwards, creating a small amount of space between you. The Phoenix was toying with you, you realized with a start, it already had the outcome set in its mind.

“Now we begin the ritual,” it said, gently pushing you onto the stone floor of the cave with a wing. You fell onto your hands and knees and quickly turned to face it. You tried to crawl backwards as it loomed over you. Your breath came quickly, as a cold sweat ran down your back.

“Wh-what ritual?” you asked, not bothering to keep the panic from your tone. It took a step closer, closing the gap between you. Your back hit the cave wall - there was no where else to go. Looming over you, it leaned down to press its forehead against your own like you'd done earlier, fiery blue blazing in your peripheral vision.

“The ritual so that I may Awaken.”

Thank you to @sordidmusings for the idea that if they hold off on the claiming until after the transformation, they're super rabid for the mate.

Taglist: @mfreedomstuff @rebeccawinters @ratchetprime211 @starsandshht @unknown-y-person @radiantnico @starrlo0ver

#op x y/n #x reader #marco the phoenix #marco op #reader insert #tw dubcon #reader x marco #phoenix form marco #monster fucking #Zoan awakenings #Can u guess what the ritual entails???#It's a big surprise!!#you'd never guess #smoking weed with the Phoenix would be fucking great #maybe he'd take you flying omg #ugh but probably stupid Marco would lecture you for flying while high #whatever back down u go Marco bring out the Phoenix

216 notes · View notes