#platonic whitebeard x reader

[sabo-has-my-heart]

Heyy how are you Hope you're doing well and have some food and drink water you need it🫶

So about the request i was wondering if you would be able to make a modern au i am not really sure if you write modern au but if you don't want to make it modern au it's totally fine

It's a scenario with marco adopting a girl (maybe 10-11) who's tomboyish and making her his daughter and basically the whitebeard pirates being whitebeard company (if you write modern au) with pops as the ceo of course and them being a huge family. (I swear they are really family i want what they have💞)

i can imagine izo telling everyone you people can't handle a girl there need's to be a bit of feminine only for the girl to run away cause she found him intimidating but at the end they bond.

Also please can you include the ASL trio as if they are a part of the whitebeard family

I personally had this idea for so long and thought a lot about it that's why i want to see it come to life thank you so much for this chance🥹

Love ya

Hello my dear! So yes, I do write modern AUs, lol. Sorry I didn't get this out sooner, life has been... a pain. BUT! it's out! I hope it's alright, I had a hard time wrapping up the ending. In any case, enjoy!

Warnings: Platonic WBP x Reader, platonic ASL x reader, female!Reader

Word Count: 1450

     Looking down at the little girl in front of him, Marco could feel his heart aching. He couldn’t imagine she was more than 10, 11 tops, but here she was, huddling under what little shelter she could find, trying to stay out of the rain. Walking in over to her, he held his umbrella out a little, covering her as well as he kneeled down. Looking up at him, e/c eyes looked up at him in curiosity and… was it… fear? 

     “What are you doing out here, little one? Surely you have somewhere you can go to escape the rain.” he asked softly, reaching out and placing his hand on her head. The little girl simply shook her head, looking down at the ground sadly. Marco’s expression twisted into a troubled one as he stared at her for a moment, “Come with me. I’ll get you out of this rain and get you something to eat, you look hungry.” Marco offered, holding his hand out for the little girl. She timidly looked down at his hand before looking up at him. He looked like a kind man, nothing like those who sought to kidnap her or hurt her. Tentatively, she took his hand, allowing him to lead her away.

     That had been 4 months ago. After taking her to the office with him, she’d immediately stolen the hearts of all the divisions, though it was a toss up as to if HR loved her more or R&D. No, no, neither of those were correct. The ones who loved her most were Marco and the company’s owner, Edward ‘Whitebeard’ Newgate. It hadn’t taken a lot to adopt the girl, once she’d finally been willing enough to give them a name and her previous orphanage. None of them had known much about her, but it was clear that she was a little cautious, something that none of them had much cared for. She was far too young to be this distrustful of people.

     Sitting in his office, Marco smiled as he watched his new daughter play in the, now renovated, room next door. The very instant the adoption papers had been signed, Pops had begun renovating what had once been an office next to Marco’s, turning it into a playroom of sorts for her so that when she wasn’t at school, the entire building could come and fawn over her instead of leaving her with a daycare, something they had all been vehemently against. Crawling into one of the human sized hamster tunnels, she was immediately off once more, ruffling the new dress Izo had gotten her. The man would sigh, but leave it be. So long as she was happy, it seemed that the rest of the office was as well.

     Hearing his office door slam open, Marco couldn’t help but jump, looking up to see a familiar straw hat and smile.

     “Is Y/n in here? Ace said she was in here!” Luffy asked excitedly, running towards the door to the playroom before Marco could answer. Even though the boy was a good 7 years older than her, he seemed to be her closest friend, the two of them often getting lost in the tunnels together as they ‘adventured’ across the building, the human hamster tunnels winding through almost all of the offices of the upper two floors.

     “Luffy! Get back here! You made a promise to Ace and I! Homework first then Y/n!” Sabo shouted, running into Marco’s office soon after and joining Luffy in the tunnels. The older blond could only laugh as Sabo chased after Luffy and Luffy chased after Y/n. Pops had taken Ace in after the death of the boy’s parents, being Ace’s godfather. Roger and Pops might have been rival companies, but contrary to what the press often said, had been surprisingly good friends. Sabo had been taken in after Ace, Pops filing for custody against Sabo’s parents after a fire left the boy with horrible burn scars. The one he wasn’t sure of, however, was Luffy. The boy had his own home, perhaps not the most attentive father, but a good man. His grandfather had found a… nanny to take care of him from time to time, yet the boy had still wound up with Ace and Sabo more often than not. Still, it seemed to be for the best since Luffy and Y/n got along, so he couldn’t be upset. 

     Another bang made Marco jump, seeing Ace and Izo in his doorway.

     “Marco! Did Luffy and Sabo come this way? Sabo called me saying that he was chasing Luffy and they were headed this way!” Ace asked, making the man smile.

     “In the tunnels, best of luck, don’t forget to take off your shoes.” Marco said, gesturing towards the tunnels, the black haired young man soon darting after his brothers.

     “She’s in the tunnels again?! But… but I just got her that dress!” Izo said with a sigh, looking down rather dejectedly, making Marco laugh.

     “And she loves it… when it isn’t hindering her ability to move.” Marco said, thinking to this morning when he had her put it on for school. He wasn’t lying, she’d been rather happy with the dress, finding that it wasn’t too restrictive, it was comfortable, and it was cute.

     “I haven’t even gotten to see her in it. By later today, it’ll probably be too covered in dirt and scuff marks. How is she supposed to learn to be feminine when she spends all her time around Ace, Sabo, and Luffy!” Izo grumbled, tucking a strand of loose hair back.

     “I’m sure she’ll be fine. Once she warms up to you more, you’ll no doubt be able to dress her up as much as you’d like.” Marco said with a comforting smile as the man in front of him sighed in defeat.

     “I don’t know why she doesn’t like me, Marco. I’ve tried being nice to her, but she always runs behind someone else.” Izo lamented, crossing his arms as he stood in the doorway.

     “It’s because of your first meeting. You pushed everyone aside to meet her, carrying a dress. She figured that anyone that can push away that many people so easily while managing not to rip a dress was terrifying.” Marco said with a chuckle. Izo sighed and nodded, his shoulders sagging as he leaned against the doorframe.

     “I suppose you have a point. Everyone here is rather tall, aren’t they? Well… tell her there’s some mochi in the fridge for her. It’s a recipe I learned from Toki.” Izo said, turning to leave.

     “You… made me mochi?” a small voice called out, drawing Izo’s attention to the glass playroom doors. Izo smiled gently as he looked at her, nodding.

     “Yes. Your favorite, in fact. Marco told me what you like, so I thought you might enjoy some in the form of mochi.” Izo said softly, his heart melting at her smile.

     “Thank you, Mister Izo. I’m… I’m sorry about getting your dress dirty.” she said, moving to dust the front of her dress off as if that would help.

     “It’s alright, little one. How about you and I go shopping one of these days. I’ll buy you something we can both agree on.” Izo said, feeling himself becoming putty for the little girl. Much like the others, he’d already adored her, but Marco was pretty sure she could get Izo to kill for her with that little smile alone. 

     “Y/n, why don’t you go with Izo now to get that mochi. You can eat it while you finish up the other half of that homework.” Marco suggested, watching Izo smile at the idea of her going with him to get the mochi. Looking down at her dress, her brow furrowed as she once more attempted to wipe the scuff marks out of the knees.

     “Don’t worry, little one, I’ll get you something better when we go shopping.” Izo said softly, giving her a warm smile. Almost as if a switch flipped, Y/n was smiling at him and running over, happily taking his hand as he led her away. Marco smiled and sighed softly, watching his daughter walk towards the break room. Even as Luffy ran out of the play area, Sabo and Ace hot on his heels, he couldn’t help but find himself feeling content. The company had always been a family to him; chaotic, loud, and messy, but a family, and seeing his daughter warming up to Izo, playing with Ace, Sabo, and Luffy, and often seeing her with Pops, he couldn’t help but feel more and more like a real family. Even if the family was the entire company.

[rollinouttahere-writes]

Solitude Chapter 2

Prev

Platonic Yandere Whitebeard Pirates x GN Child Reader

5.8k words

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

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

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

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

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

Weird.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Doubt it…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No.”

Thatch sulks again. He's good at that. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Berries.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

S… St… Str… Wait-

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

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

“Paid?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Everything stops.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I saw it!”

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

“I saw it!”

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

“I saw it!”

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

“I saw it!”

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

“I saw it!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey. You feeling better now?”

You just stare at him blankly.

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

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

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

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

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

[gatitties]

Hey hope you having a good day, I was requesting for one piece one shot. So can we do that child reader doesn't act like their age instead they act like a grownup and are VERY mature. Causing them to be like an entire grownup and having worries and feels the need to fix a promblems on their own like a groen up. If its alright can we do the (SH) , (WP), (HP) that try to help child reader feel more like a chuld so reader dosent overthink over things that are not for their age. Thank you. Love your books ♡

─Strawhats, Whitebeard Pirates & Heart Pirates x child!reader (Platonic)

─Summary: The crew takes you on a surprise trip with the intention that you enjoy and behave like someone appropriate to your age.

─Warnings: none

Everyone noticed your strange behavior from the beginning, at least, strange for a child of your age, when normally children were carefree, naive or whiny, you never stopped worrying about things that you definitely shouldn't worry about.

Expenses, proper nutrition, daily exercise to keep fit, you had a notebook where you had a rigorous table for each month, an organization that prevented the anxiety of not knowing what to do or how to act from bothering you, you didn't need 'unnecessary' or 'wasted' time in your life.

What completely confused Luffy was why didn't you want to play with him and Ussop? Normally children are a bunch of inexhaustible and elastic energy, but you prefer to do some problems to train your mind, which is fine in a way, but you didn't even like stuffing yourself with candy with Chopper, you were a child for god's sake! Your arms and legs were small, you still struggled with psychomotor and coordination problems in some situations, but you behaved like someone divorced and with debts piling up non-stop.

Of course, Robin and Sanji noticed that all that maturity disappeared from time to time, in your most vulnerable moments, when mental fatigue takes its toll on the deepest part of you, that's when you let out your true behavior, the one you should have at such a young age.

"Aren't we deviating from the established route?"

"Don't worry about it, we just took a detour, we need to buy somethings before the island we were originally going to."

Nami frowned at the exaggeration in your voice, always so exasperated at the slightest change, thinking it would cause some trouble, of course you were worried because you hadn't noticed that the supplies were running out, but luckily Zoro was able to keep you distracted enough for you to notice that they didn't really need to go shopping.

Your expression was completely indecipherable when Franky put you on his shoulder, pointing at the strange city that was on that island, something similar to the roller coasters and attractions of Sabaody, but on a smaller scale, that they came across this island was luck, Brook read about it in the newspaper and they all agreed that a break wouldn't hurt anyone.

"Are you sure we can take a break? The log pose will get deconfigured if we take too long."

Jinbe patted your head, pointing at one of the milder attractions, silently asking if they should go there or to other intensities.

"We have everything under control, where do you want to ride first?"

"I don't know, I've never been in an amusement park"

You rested your chin against Franky's head, a little embarrassed at not knowing what to do, the fish man smiled softly at you and decided to guide you all to the more childish area, everyone divided and joined together depending on each one's tastes, although at first you felt insecure, you began to enjoy and appreciate the time off, letting your mind go unconcerned about things that were beyond your reach, bringing out your most capricious and childish side, you allowed yourself to be a child during the day. The crew still had to fight your worries, but they were relieved to see that your childish mind was still there.

They're worried, very worried, Marco was the first to notice how you seemed to lose hair for every little problem that happened on the Moby Dick, was there a shortage of food? You were making a shopping list, did the cannons have a malfunction? You'll read books about them so that the defenses don't go down, was there a mess after a party? You got up early to leave everything spotless.

You didn't even bother to run around the deck with Ace, he adored you and used to drag you around to play little pranks on the crew, but you always left him hanging, excusing yourself by saying that they were absurd things and that there were problems to deal with. So everyone has a meeting to talk about why you act like a grumpy old person and not a carefree child, Izo really thinks he'll see wrinkles on your face when you reach adolescence.

"We have to keep the child from thinking about that kind of thing, the other day asked me if I had done the inventory of the medicines."

"My god… the other day the kiddo asked me if could start shooting."

"Mmmh, the child asked me if could start hand-to-hand defense training too."

"Kiddo was worried because the portions didn't have enough vitamins that an adult needs to ingest."

Whitebeard listened in silence, his face darkened as he continued to listen to the others' conversation, he needed to end this, you're not at the age to occupy your mind with that kind of worries, you should worry about getting enough sleep, having fun, getting into mischief, being a little fussy or whiny… it caused him deep pain to see you like that.

"The discussion is over, let's make the child behave like a child."

Everyone listened to their captain's strict orders, his absolute word spreading throughout all of his subordinates immediately, leaving you confused when you were prevented from doing anything the next day, unable to enter the kitchen, Marco's office, or the small armory, you had no time to get angry at the fact that they were delaying your work because Ace dragged you into mischief. It wasn't what you had planned to do today, but since you had no other options, you preferred to keep your mind occupied than to think about why your captain wouldn't let you do what you usually did.

With your thoughts much less occupied, the simplicity of spending a good time with the people who love you made you show a facet much more in line with your age, you laughed carefree at how Marco tripped over a bucket that Ace left lying around, you escaped from Thatch after throwing flour on his face, Izou caught you trying to steal his makeup… your mischievous attitude gave years of joy to the crew, your laughter sounded throughout the ship like a melody, something you usually didn't do.

"This is much better, I hope you can take things more calmly, you will have time to grow up."

Whitebeard directed his words towards you, although you were completely asleep on his lap, he smiled tenderly, caressing your head, he didn't want you to worry about adult things again, you don't need to grow up so fast, you have to give him time to cry when you are a full-grown adult, but you need to enjoy your childhood first.

Law appreciates you, he really does, he loves that you understand that everything has to be clean, disinfected, organized... it's okay that you want to have a healthy routine and he doesn't prohibit you from taking care of yourself, but my god, you have the behavior of an impulsive parent who has twenty children and doesn't have time to take care of them all.

Ikkaku takes care of the food, Bepo takes care of the navigation, Law is a doctor, Shachi and Penguin… well, they are there, but you don't need to occupy all those positions when you think something is going to cause problems. Law understands that you may be a little ─too much sometimes─ more mature than most children your age, he himself had to face childhood in a hard way, but you didn't have to go through that, everyone was there to take care of you, pamper you, you can have a totally normal childhood without worries, however you decide to make all the problems yours.

"You have to stop, I've already told you that you don't need to worry about those things, I'm the captain."

"But-"

It only took one look from your captain to stop you from ranting, he confronted you directly because he knew you would understand what he meant, but you got to the point of worrying about things that he didn't even care about, you need to relax or your heart would stop. No one has died from a little disorganization, some junk food or not washing their hands after eating with nothing but a napkin. But it was too hard to put all those thoughts aside, the crew made sure not to let you think about it too much, but with each passing day it seemed like you were blowing more and more smoke out of your ears like a locomotive at full speed, you could stop doing things but not overthinking them.

He had to pull you out of the Polar Tang, the idea was from the idiot duo, but it was what he needed right now, a stupid and fun idea, ─although Law didn't find it too funny─ he stopped at the first snowy island he found and let the chaos begin on its own.

"This is war, eat snow!"

It only took one of Penguin's snowballs to hit you to activate a switch in you, you don't know if it was out of frustration or because you were having a good time, but you started throwing snow left and right, Ikkaku, Bepo, Law, Jean Bart… they were all fired without discrimination, you didn't stop to think about how the snow got under your clothes or that you'll catch a cold after this, you enjoyed the moment without your mind plagued by unnecessary problems.

"That's our child! ack-"

The crew smiled upon hearing your malicious grin at having hit Shachi, who was celebrating that you had hit his friend, unleashing your most childish and hyperactive side, however he also suffered the consequences of your change of mentality, they still had a long way to go before you stopped behaving like a complete adult, but you let those more childish hues that you hid from yourself show.

[yanderes-galore]

Oooh, I wonder what would yandere White Beard as a platonic yandere be like 👀 can I please request that as a concept?

I love this idea so much due to his goals in the series 🥺

Yandere! Platonic! Whitebeard Concept

Pairing: Platonic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Overprotective behavior, Violence, Blood, Whitebeard becomes your dad, Slight manipulation, You're an orphan, Dubious companionship.

Let me just say this... him as a platonic yandere makes SO MUCH sense.

Why? Whitebeard, or Edward Newgate as his actual name, has never expressed any desire to find the One Piece for its treasure (From what I remember).

He's only ever wanted one thing.

Family.

Family is what he considers to be his greatest treasure.

He grew up as an orphan with nowhere to go, forced to watch fellow crew members solve things with violence.

His experiences eventually made him found the Whitebeard Pirates.

Said crew was made with unity and love in mind.

He then became one of the strongest men in the world, and Emperor of The Sea.

His Devil Fruit allows him to create earthquakes, he's a staggering height...

Many people are scared of him.

But to his crew, even when betrayed...

He loves them more than anything else.

So him being a platonic yandere? I can see that.

Based on what we saw during Marineford and the Paramount War, Whitebeard was willing to sacrifice himself for his family.

He takes in orphans and gives them guidance.

He's so intimidating but he's such a dad.

He's compassionate but knows he is simply a man like everyone else, especially as he gets older.

Whitebeard probably met you like he met most of his crew.

You were an orphan with nowhere to go, a prime candidate for someone he wants on his crew.

If you have nowhere to go, he'll happily take you in.

He'd be such a good dad, too.

You'd have a home on the Moby Dick and he definitely protects his family.

I know this is primarily supposed to be about Whitebeard... but...

Platonic/Romantic! Marco and Platonic/Romantic! Ace would work well with Platonic! Whitebeard.

You'd get two overprotective brothers to pair with your new overprotective father.

That, or, you're brought to Whitebeard due to being involved romantically with either Ace or Marco.

Congrats, you get to be an 'In Law' in that case.

In that case you're even more connected to his family since one of his 'sons' loves you.

Whitebeard would love and protect you unconditionally as one of his kids.

He loves his family, including you.

Even in his old age he'd be your mentor, not just a Captain, but a father.

I don't even think he likes being called Captain at times since he views his crew as family.

You could probably call him 'Captain' once and Whitebeard would laugh and correct you.

He's not 'Captain' to you... He's your father.

He really wants you to feel at home and get along with his crew.

Trust me, if there was conflict, he'd know.

No one wants to anger Whitebeard.

He's a huge man and doesn't want violence on his crew.

He wants to be there for you, his newest child, and give whatever advice he can.

Would Whitebeard kill for you? I don't doubt it.

He'd kill to protect his crew and family.

If you were romantically involved with a member of his family, he treats you like you're part of the family.

If you're already part of the family and someone outside of it loves you, he'd test them before accepting them.

You deserve only the best.

He needs to make sure said person is worthy of joining his family.

Once he thinks they can, he'll allow them to pursue you.

Would he be affectionate? Maybe in his own way.

I feel like he wouldn't give out hugs often... unless you asked.

He'd find that amusing but accept it.

He'd be incredibly loyal and caring to his obsession.

If you were having some trouble, then he'd talk you through it.

If you wanted to leave the family, he'd discourage it.

You can only leave if you come back to visit... he'll miss his kid.

He wouldn't kidnap I don't think.

The closest thing to that would be if you were forced into his family by marriage.

My personal pick would be Ace... but up to you.

Good luck leaving a yandere with Whitebeard backing them.

The good thing is Whitebeard would never hurt you.

He wants you to be happy and loved.

He'll be happy to provide such a thing if you let him...

Won't you be part of his family?

[asce-of-hearts]

Hi hope you're having a good one! I was wondering if I could get platonic yan Whitebeard catching kid Mc trying to sneak off the ship? Him gently but sternly scolding them, maybe making a new rule that they have to be within his or a commander's sight for the foreseeable future. Ty!

Sneaky

Contents: Platonic!Yandere!Whitebeard catching gn!kid!reader trying to sneak off the ship.

more Whitebeard content here

WARNINGS: PLATONIC YANDERE, KID READER.

You're about to do it. Your little legs, barely able to let you run without tripping over yourself, ache to jump from the board and fall into the warm water of the ocean. Why are you doing it? You don't really know, but your brain tells you to do it, and who are you to disobey.

Just as you feel the salty air hit your face, a big hand catches you by the collar of your shirt, and dangles you in the air, as if you were nothing but a little kitten in it's mother's claws.

"There you are," a familiar, masculine voice says. You could be afraid, but you can only smile. It's your papa, your father, your one and only hero. "Goin' somewhere, ___?" He throws you up in the air, you screech in joy as he catches you with ease, and sits you over one of his enormous legs. He looks mad.

"To the ocean. Like my brothers." You answer, truthful.

"Last time I checked, your brothers went in ships and when they were allowed to." He says, narrowing his eyes. Your eyes go wide, pondering, for a moment, if you were about to make a mistake. "And you, little one, don't have neither a ship nor permission."

"Oh..." You say with that little, high pitched voice of yours. Whitebeard can already feel his heart clenching. "So... no ocean?"

"No, sweetheart, no ocean." He ruffles your hair, and sighs. "Besides, you don't have to go in a boat to own the ocean, I'm king of this land... and king of the world if god wants me to," he mutters that last part. "So, in a sense, the ocean is yours as well. Because everything mine is yours." He tries to cheer you up, your eyes lighting up as you bounce over his lap.

"King of the ocean!" You rise, roaring as loud as you can before scurrying off again to do who knows what. He watches you intently, a fond smile on his face. And then he gestures to Marco and Izo to come closer.

"Don't let them out of your sight."

dad man oughhh

hope you enjoyed this

have a great day/night

TAGGING: @bookandyarndragon  @goldenglow149 @mizzhellsingsstuff

  @chercheryblossomsweet  @mimihaitani @bad4amficideas @flow33didontsmoke

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[alexa-yukiyu]

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

Parties and Falls (Whitebeard pirates x male!reader)

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

Reader here is replaced by Dokucha which means reader in japanese

Dividers by @/saradika

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

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

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

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

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

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

He pouts, leaning his head on the counter

“But everyone is having it!”

He chuckles

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

The boy lights up at that

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It hurts!” He cries

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

Thatch follows behind, rushing over

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

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

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

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

Whitebeard smiled gently at the crying boy in his hand

“There, There was that scary?”

He nods

“Y-yeah, and it hurt.”

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

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

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

He sniffles, rubbing his eyes dry

“It was really scary.”

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

“You feel better now?”

He nods smiling

“Thank you, PaPaw”

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

Taglist:

@imaginarydreams

@amethystviolin

@h0n3y-l3m0n05

[gouraminnow]

May I request something with platonic yandere whitebeard and a toddler reader? Like I’m envisioning the crew somehow pick up a young child that recently lost her parents. And she’s traumatized and shy just holding onto dear life a stuffed bunny that is almost as big as her because she’s just so tiny. And poor baby can’t sleep is injured and hides from the crew. She is just so used to sleeping with said stuffed animal and in the same bed as her deceased parents. So she wonders into whitebeards quarters after she was supposed to be “asleep” somehow climbs up onto that giant bed and goes ah yes this feels right and familiar (probably didn’t help that the crew calls him pops and she is like pops? Like papa? I sleep with papa and mama. Mama and papa gone. I no like. New papa? New papa. My papa. Sleep now.) and just melts and cuddles up to him holding her bunny tight falling fast asleep.

Wow this is really specific. I mean this completely genuinely, have some of you anons considered making ocs/dipping your toes into writing yourselves? You've pretty much written your own scenario right here. I got back into writing by chatting with someone I sent long asks to, so I recommend giving it a shot if you're on the fence a all :)

Anyway!

The WBP are the most likely to actually adopt. Everybody else is kind of a deadbeat. Even still, I don't think they'd bring such a young kid along unless there was nowhere safe to drop her off nearby + somebody gets attached. Which is far from impossible.

This kid is either some sole survivor of something horrible, living with adopters deemed unfit for parenting(in which case they likely aren't long for this world), or the dead parents were already connected to the WBP in some way so WB feels some form of connection/responsibility already. Whatever the case, this tiny kid is brought on board.

Real shy like you said, tries to run and hide but won't let go of the massive bunny either so she doesn't get very far... probably does the little kid thing where she sits behind a box or a curtain and thinks she's hidden just because she can't see any of them. They'll humor it, it's better than such a young kid actually finding a proper hiding place and going unsupervised for lord knows how long. Plus it's pretty cute.

Regarding Whitebeard and the sleeping arrangements specifically... I really don't see things working out. First, the kid has to be able to stand the old man's snoring. But hey, I slept through blenders and fire alarms as a kid, so it's possible! But on the other hand...

If Whitebeard rolls over or hell, just moves an arm wrong, he could crush the poor kid. Luckily, he wakes up as soon as she curls up with him. Maybe even sooner, the pitter-patter of her little feet against the floor enough to get his attention. This is the guy who woke up to fend off Ace's knife attack at the last moment, after all. He stays still, making his mind up to scold his adult children for their lapse in care in the morning- she shouldn't be able to sneak by them. That's ridiculous.

But he's not a monster. He's not gonna kick the poor thing out, especially not if she hasn't done much else to get closer to anyone. She clambers her way up onto the bed, dragging the rabbit up with her as she curls up in the strip of space between his arm and his body. And the little whispered murmur of "Papa" once she settles gets him good. So he sighs, resigning himself to a sleepless night, slowly moving his massive hand closer to cradle the poor thing. It's enough to cover her and the rabbit both. He'll be scolded by Marco and the nurses for not getting his rest, and he'll scold his other children for letting the kid sneak into his room in the first place.

It's fine, though. If she insists on sleeping in Papa's room after that night, he has them move a smaller bed in next to his to minimize the risk of squishing. Kind of like a motorcycle side-car but. It's a bed.

[thesharktanksdriver]

The strongest star (platonic)

This is determination from Whitebeard’s point of view when y/n met him and his crew. I decided to make this to flesh out my first post and also thought it would be fun since y/n is kinda an unreliable narrator in their own way due to forgetting a lot of details and events.

Master-list for the series here

Tag list: @peachsuka28 @emptynessinmyworld @badluckinfrench @j-s-l-m @tigerfang-rage @madokamagicaa @rymtea @angstylittleb1tch @badluckinfrench @emmbny @kenkenmaaa @yunho-leeknow @chibiduck

for as long as Edward Newgate could remember, he wanted a family

As unconventional as it had seemed he had always dreamed of a family of his own

That was his dream that led him to the sea all those years ago

The freedom to pursue and accomplish this with the oceans cruel and caring waves

He’s old now, a man accomplished and still having his family grow

So when Marco brings a small child aboard Newgate can’t help but be a bit giddy

It’s been years since the Moby dick had such a young one aboard its old planks

He remembers like yesterday it once did

Children he found bruised and starved, cold and alone with eyes begging for warmth and comfort despite how scared they were

He was once like that, and he swore he’d not abandon those kids like others did for him

Those children grew up now to be some of his many kids

Years heavy on them as they are for him

He watched them grow from scared to proud and strong

And most of all he watched them grow to be happy with the family harboured on a couple planks of wood on the high sea

Each night rocked by the waves with full bellies and a smile on their faces

So it’s safe to say he is hopeful when Marco marches up, carrying a small child of about 10?

The youngest on the ship as of now was Ace and a few from the spade pirates that assimilated to his crew

But he hadn’t raised them, Moreso taken them in and not having the opportunity to truly nurture them in the way he had wanted

They were teens, a fraction of their lives already lived which meant he missed out on significant moments of it

He hadn’t been able to meet Ace’s brothers or be sure to in-still in him that he’s loved

Hadn’t been able to convince spade that he was more than what everyone in his home thought of him

As an old nostalgic man Newgate missed the feeling of being there for something important like that again

And he thought for a moment he could have that again until he noticed your eyes

He’s seen the terrified, angry and hopeless that looked up at him once before

Most of his sons whom he took under his wing had a variation of that when meeting him

But yours are….something else

He’s reminded of the night sky

A sight that he’s been more than familiar with his entire life as he looked to the stars and wished for people to call home

Despite just being eyes he sees more

Bleak empty darkness, swirling with the unknown with the distant twinkling flecks of stars

They are all encompassing and unassuming at the same time

Pits of dullness that shows the withered age that only a seasoned sailor could have amongst the cruel waves

A loss of innocence and all that a child should have

Yet at the same time somehow retains some of it despite it all

It’s conflicting and hypocritical all at the same time yet it’s there all the same

Those eyes stare up at him, no fear but instead apprehension fills its place

If nothing before could have convinced him that he wanted you apart of his family than this did

But he’s known from the moment you stepped foot on this ship he wanted you to have a home here either way

On the Moby dick you start off as a quiet presence that later grows into something bigger

Perhaps even bigger than yourself as the his sons and daughters seek out your company like moths to a flame

He can’t exactly blame them, not when he himself wants so desperately to grasp and hold that light

But he sees your apprehension when around him

The way in which you try to skirt around his presence as best as possible

Something you do exceedingly well

So Edward for your sake decides to take a seat back and watch what happens

Waits to see you ease up on your own time

God knows the amount of patience he has from dealing with Roger all those years ago and his rowdy kids

So he knows when to back down and let the stage set itself

Watch the act before his role is to come

And Edward does exactly that

He watches and waits

Eddie watches as you draw the crew in like a gravitational pull

It’s slow at first

Your cautious but you let your guard down

At first it’s with Marco

Being the one to take you onboard he decides that your his responsibility and take to it like the mother hen that he is

Seeing you inured stumbling out an alleyway really hit him hard

Perhaps harder than you had even noticed

It gets worse especially after you seem to brush off your injuries

He hovers around you a lot under the excuse of checking your wounds but you seem to know better

You always seem to know better

But either way you don’t say anything and simply grumble a bit about him

Moreso out of annoyance than actual disdain

But either or, Whitebeard watches as his first commander stays by your side

Eventually getting you to drop some of your barriers ever so slightly

Like the chipping in a wall that would lead to a crack

You talk and Marco listens

As do others who eventually join in on listening to some of your stories as you sit between the rails of the railing

Feet dangling through the gaps and swaying back and fourth as you tell stories

Everyone listens

Some even stop in their trail just trying to hear what you tell Marco as he similar sits beside you

Clawed feet of his half Phoenix form and firey blue wings tinged in gold crackling gently

The real breakdown comes when he offers to fly you around

Everyone can see something in you ignite at that

Genuine excitement only caused by child-like wonder

It’s one of the only times on your stay he had seen it

The child buried beneath whatever had happened to you peaking out from the brush

This was a good sign

One that Edward is glad to see himself as you soar with Marco

Blue flames giving you warmth even with the cold harsh winds

When you eventually land once more Edward can’t help but smile at the surpassingly content expression painting your face

That crack in your defence grows

The next to chip away at that metaphorical wall is Thatch

The cook quickly making his ways into your good graces when he has you help about in his kitchen

You seemingly can’t really stay still, mind always racing and wanting to do something

Never taking the time to relax

Thatch says you take to tasks quickly, finishing as quick as you started much to his surprise and exasperation

Whitebeard laughed at that at the time

So you were quick to pick up things

Knowing tasks like the back of your hand no matter how big or small

He’s also seen it, when you gave some of his sons tips in raising the sails or properly cleaning the deck quicker

Thatch won’t admit it to anyone but himself but Whitebeard knows he cooks more food for you than he’d usually would for someone on the ship

Even when Ace or Teach hound him for more food he angrily shoves them off

Then filling your plate once more

Thatch is the one who tells him of the time you cried eating his meals

Mumbling that it reminded you of her

Your mom

Apparently you don’t remember her anymore

Just the vaguest scent of her meals and a glimmer of a smile she would give when cooking

It….sticks with Eddy more than he’d like to admit

Forgetting was an unfortunate thing that came with time

Whitebeard considered himself lucky in not forgetting much over his years

He still remembers the loneliness of his childhood

The bloodshed and alienation on Rocks’s crew

Going off to make his family after the god valley incident

Recruiting his many sons

Finding some cold and alone while others sought him out as a father

Remembers when he first met the idiot he’d call a rival

How Oden would eventually become his little brother and hearing years later of his death by Kaido

The guilt still weighing on his shoulders even now

So in every sense of the word Eddy considers himself lucky in being able to remember

But you don’t have that same privilege

Your memory fraught with missing pieces

Leaving you trailing off for a moment as you regal a story that leaves everyone on deck listening intently

They all notice that you stare off quite often while doing something

Your mind wandering to whatever is it that your thinking of

Sometimes you even mumble to yourself

Though Eddy is never close enough to hear the mumbles others sometimes mention them to him

Names and places

Dates and times

Events and descriptions

But one thing brought up is something that raises his eyebrow

Things only the Roger pirates could’ve know or seen

He already suspected something when seeing the coat draped across your shoulders

You may think your slick in thinking he didn’t recognize that old thing but Eddie knows better

He’d known Roger far too long and arduously to not recognize his gaudy red coat (hypocrite a voice in the void cry’s out)

When his frien….rival was executed he had noticed the coat he wore was different

A darker red and cheaper material

But at the time he gave no thought to it

To wrapped up in a certain kind of grief to really think twice

But now that coat is on your shoulders

Pristine rose red contrasted with the cyan blue of your bandana and cloth sash

You couldn’t have known Roger, your too young to do so

Plus that idiot had two apprentices not three

So that option was x’d out the list

As him and his commanders talked

But you being a kid of one of his members was certainly a possibility

And the only one Edward could ever imagine Roger giving his coat to was Rayleigh and he had essentially dropped off the map years ago

So the conclusion that your maybe Rayleigh’s kid and that he was potentially dead was the conclusion drawn

It’s safe to say that it is something that weighs on not only his commanders mind but also Edwards

Because of the similar situation to Ace

The only other person you had tried to avoid on this crew for some reason

But maybe you somehow knew of his origin and that’s why? But even that seemed unlikely

Roger could keep his lips shut when the situation called for it

Something that he now praised his dead friend for

But on the topic of Ace…it was odd

You avoided Ace like the plague

Whitebeard understood why you avoided him, the giant who was named the strongest man in the world and feared in all blues

But Ace? He was practically a puppy vying for your attention after seeing you interact with literally everyone but him

He’d never thought he’d see his son who’d used to be like a snippy stray dog now practically begging for attention

But here he was

Well, more like they were since literally everyone else on ship it’s finding this all too hilarious

But also kinda sad

It’s not like they’d force you to get along with him if there had been a solid reason

But seemingly there was none

You just avoided him for whatever reason

Jittering in discomfort and leaving when you saw his signature orange hat

And they’d thought it would remain like this

But like all else Whitebeard sees things change

(Just as he saw the sea change when Roger died and ushered a new era)

The final piece to break down that barrier of yours is Ace

The one besides Whitebeard himself you had been the most barred against

It starts with a small conversation

And then on deck he sees both you and ace talk more

And more

And eventually Ace is placing you on his shoulders with his hat on your head

Or taking you out on striker as the smaller boat races around the Moby Dick

It’s a sight for sore eyes

Ace once again lighting up like a bright flame

The same happiness restrained for when talking of his brothers

Or of that person who had given him the small charm he covets as if it were the greatest treasure

Something he had been initially teased for until revealing its story

The small worn down little sun dangling from his wrist representing someone who he wanted to find once more

To thank for caring for him despite his bloodline

Because Ace saw himself as a blotch on the world rather than a blessing

It was something that Ace had hid well but as his father Edward could see the conflict in his eyes

He Tried his best to resolve it but it had yet to go away

But when Ace talks of the Brothers made over a sip of sake, a small sun charm and now seemingly you

It seems for a moment to melt away

Like the strongest of metal being smelted before hardening once more

So Edward watches in amusement as Ace lets you hang from his arm

Or how his son tries his best to seemingly impress your young eyes with tricks of blazing flames

Ace doesn’t seem to notice though that anything he seems to do leaves a proud look in your eyes

But Eddie does

Whitebeard can’t place as to why but he decides to leave it

Simply enjoying his new child and Ace bonding as if they had knew each other for years

The flame brazen boy igniting excitedly like a match as your smaller hands find his and dance to the drunken shanty music

Singing songs you seem to know and regard with an almost melancholy smile as Binks Booze begins to play

Only giving more evidence to your possible heritage

And then you eventually approach Eddie himself

The fearless Whitebeard, strongest man in the world

Golden yellow eyes staring back down towards yours that reflected a starry night

He asks you about your family in which you answer vaguely

Though he expect no less of an answer he notices that the way you explain it is practiced

And despite how practiced it is it leaves him dealing down worry

You’d been on your own for a decent amount of time now

Just seemingly drifting from how you described it

No one but yourself and the sea to keep you company

Only the clothes on your back and small mementos from travels to carry on with you

Whitebeard ponders who the “friends” you’d made along the way but you don’t say names often

Just nicknames

Sneaky but he’s raised enough rebellious boys to see past all the tricks

You change conversation but Edward allows it

Instead you ask him questions, something no one would usually dare to do when being questioned from him

He’d have to admit you have some guts for a kid

Typically he’d call people who did something like that a brat but he lets it slip this one time

And he answers your questions

If only to try and ease you into seeing that he is more than just the epithet of strongest man

That first and foremost he’s a father and perhaps he could be one to you

But instead you inquired about Roger

Another itch to prove your perhaps Rayleigh’s child

So Whitebeard answers truthfully talking about the man he once considered friend

To be honest Edward never really knew how to quite characterize his and Roger’s relationship

On one hand Roger was a man that Edward had respected deeply. Someone who was not only equal in power but also in kindness

God Roger was so stupidly nice to just about everyone as long as you didn’t somehow anger him

But On the other hand Roger was one of the stupidest men alive

Running head first into a battle with nothing prepared

Roger and him were both Friends and Rivals all at the same time

Along with being two sides of a coin

Men who loved more passionately than anyone else

Men who’d do anything to protect all that they loved even if it killed them

In some sense Whitebeard knows he should be happy in being the “victor” in their rivalry yet he’s not

Because they never did settle a score because there was no score to settle

And Eddie no matter how hard he’d try to deny it missed that goof

For as annoying as he was he was equally charming

Something that was infuriating

Because of course Eddie had to become friends with that man

Of course Roger had to go and get himself killed

And it’s Eddie who’s left to mourn

Eddie who’s left to watch the world change and grow old

Eddie is always the one left standing

And it’s there with that you ask him about mourning and how he deals with it

And Edward can’t help but give a pitied stare

A child should not know grief

A child should not know how to mourn

And yet you do

You always seemed to know something your not supposed to

A thing both equally dangerous to you as it is others

……geez you really must be Rayleigh’s kid

Whitebeard smiles, looking down to the coat hung heavy on your shoulders

For a moment he sees Roger there, smiling at him as usual

He tells you that even when someone is gone they leave bits of themselves in the world

Eyes subtly glancing towards a distracted Ace and Izou who listens nearby

Their presence still lingering in all those that they touched by literal and metaphorical

Because when someone leaves you they never really do

They change you

Mold you into the person you are and could become wether that be good or bad

Because Whitebeard despite knowing Oden and Roger are gone can still feel their presence on this ship

The splinters from when battling Roger as he was flung onto the Moby dick

The room in which Oden carved his name in the wood along with Toki’s within the shape of a heart

Sees glimmers of Roger shining through Ace and his firey temper along with his compassion

Watches Izou mumble under his breath about how Oden would have loved to have been on this adventure

Those 3 sake cups still sit in Edwards office

Below a collection of objects and photos of all his lost children

He still mourns them

As any father would

Still wonders if they would forgive him for falling them

But when he does so he remembers their still there

Their fingerprints engraved on a old grizzled heart

At hearing this you nod, pulling that old coat on your shoulders closer

As if someone was hugging you through its luxurious red cloth

His words have seemed to have comforted you and he’s glad

Perhaps even lifting some of the grief off your chest

If so Edward is happy

Because a child should know no grief

And he’d like to change that

Would like to remold your melancholy little heart back to what it should be

That of a happy child

He and his children itch to ask you to stay

But even when Marco offers you a room here

Or when Ace just straight up asks you to stay

You always reply the same way

That like the sea herself you are untethered

Maybe one day you’d find a place but for now you must keep drifting

You have people to meet

Friends you call family to see once more

Everyone here wishes for you to stay

Some ask their father to perhaps to pull the same thing they had pulled with Ace

But Whitebeard doesn’t relent on wanting you to join by your choice

Even when he feels his will want to crack when one night after talking with you under the starry night you fell asleep in his palm

Curled up and small as he feels small tears drip down and pool beside you

Or when it wants to crack even more when he catches you one night in the crows nest singing

The almost haunting sound echoing and reverberating across the ship

The Moby herself sitting at your side, her Klabautermann joining you in song

Or the almost final blow when he realizes that you breath new life in the ship without even knowing it

It’s unseen by your eyes but Whitebeard knows his sons and his ship enough to know when it’s more lively than usual

How your words capture them

He’s watched as you sat atop a barrel telling tales and seeing everyone huddle around you like ducks

Pausing in their duties or even sitting down to ask questions or for you to elaborate more

Grown men and women enraptured by stories of the sea and all its beauty

Even he himself couldn’t help but find himself entranced by your words

The way in which you tell them all are too detailed as to not be true

But Whitebeard does not relent

Does not stop in his judgement no matter how hard it will be to let you go back on that dinky little ship you called your own

It’s sail made of spare sheets with sewn in patches giving it splatters of colour

But when that happens Whitebeard promises to throw you a grand goodbye

Promises that when you do come back they’d have a room ready

That Thatch would make food that reminded you of a once lost home again

That Marco would tend to your wounds and let you scrape the sky

And that Ace would light up with a flame of a stars intensity

But they never were able to throw that goodbye party

That party would be the next one after the one that was meant to just enjoy being with you once more without having to say goodbye

But then you decided you’d help Thatch after seeing he could barely walk in a straight line, so you paused the celebrations for yourself and went to that kitchen celler

Going to place that damned devil fruit to be locked away

But then minutes ticked by

And so Ace decides he’d go find you, saying he’d have to convince you to tell Eddie of your story about the island in the clouds

The joyful atmosphere continues

And then comes Ace’s horrified scream for Marco

Cutting through the atmosphere as the usually chipper boy runs out the kitchen with you in his arms

Bloodied little you

You sit there in Ace’s arms

Bleeding heavily from a large slashing stab that has your blood practically gushing out and into the ground along with Ace’s arms

Despite that though

Despite the pain you should be in Edward spots an oddly content look on your face

Eyes looking up towards Ace but instead of tears filling them it’s a bittersweet look

The look of I’m sorry

Ace and you sit in Edward’s palm

Your small form cradled by his sobbing son who pleads for you

Blood still fresh on his hands and now smeared across Edward’s as well

A child should never die

Let alone in someone’s arms

For they shall carry that weight of them in their arms forever

So he tells ace to lay you down in his Palm

And Ace can only do so reluctantly

Ace turns to run to Marco who’s dashing across the ship but you stop him grabbing his hand

Making his son pause

You smile despite it all, a bright and beautiful smile that rivals the sun and all stars in the sky

Then looking to his charm as you pull out a similar one nestled in that coat pocket of yours

“You found me” it comes out as a pained rasp that makes Whitebeard’s heart ache

It aches more seeing Ace’s expression

Pure grief

Just utter pure grief

Ace clutches you

Begs you not to leave

To please not leave him after finding you

To tell him who did this to you

Your eyes squint as if trying to remember, but then light up with recognition

You give a small laugh, one that makes Whitebeard go still as does Ace

“Zehahaha”

Teach….thats why he wasn’t on deck

As that happens pieces of you shatter

A bright shining gold flashing in the night sky

Sparks of starlight and stardust congregating in the air

Scattering somewhere into the sky

In a fevered state you utter a last word to Ace

Sunshine

When your gone everyone is in a stunned silence

Because what just happened

But then Whitebeard thinks

He thinks all the way back to Roger

The last time he saw Roger the bastard had gotten suddenly silent asking Eddie if he knew of a song, a myth

A star that once dead formed back once more in a new part of the sky

A song was made about it once, something from the Rumbar pirates that had long died among the waves

But then he thinks back further

Back to those 3 days and nights they had fought on that abandoned island

And then he remembers

As Roger sent him flying with a punch Eddie skidded by the Oro Jackson

And for the briefest of moments he thought he spotted something shining in the darkness of a cracked open door

More rather the peering shining eyes of someone

At the time he tried to question Roger but he was as unmoving as a stubborn horse so Eddie had left the topic

He had forgotten of that experience years later

But now it comes rushing back

As does that myth of a undying star

It seems Roger was hinting at something all along

Sly bastard

Seems you weren’t Rayleigh’s kid after all

Maybe you were more Roger’s kid than anything

But….Eddie had taken in one of Roger’s brats before

His sobbing son is evidence of that

And perhaps he will do so again

“Hmf….sly bastard. Their out there, we’ll find them again” his words are spoken with conviction as a sobbing ace looks up to him, his golden eyes soften at his sons expression “their still alive Ace, just displaced when they die. Roger rambled to me a myth about it the last time we met. A star that never died and reappeared in the sky, I thought it was nonsense but maybe he was right”

“But how-“

“Think my boy. How could they be the one who had cared for you all those years ago when they’re that young? My best guess is a devil fruit” he sees the emotions swirl in Ace’s eyes as his sons nods shakily. Hands clutching the sun charm of his bracelet and scared to let go. Edward’s eyes travel from his son to his other children, the gold that was once softened now hardening once more as anger replaced it. Teach….a son now a traitor had to be delt with.

[hummingbird24220]

The Littlest Listener (Part 5)

One Piece x Reader — Whitebeard Pirates (Ace) x Platonic!Mermaid Reader

It started with a story.

You’d heard it in whispers—legends passed between mermaids and fishfolk, half-laughed off tales of rare mermaids who could walk on land. Some said it was a gift passed down through bloodlines. Others claimed it happened when the sea itself allowed it. A few believed it was sheer willpower—heart stronger than water, anchored by love or stubbornness or the simple, impossible desire to walk beside someone you cared for.

And you? You were absolutely going to figure it out.

You approached Marco first—because Marco always had a solution, and more importantly, books.

“I want to study,” you told him one morning, tail coiled beneath you on your favorite bench. “About mermaids who can walk.”

Marco blinked, adjusting his glasses. “Walk like… on legs?”

You nodded. “I want to stand beside the crew. Not just swim near them. I want to walk onto an island one day. Like everyone else.”

He was silent for a moment, then let out a small breath. “You’re serious about this.”

You gave him a lopsided grin. “Dead serious.”

“…Alright.” He turned, already heading below deck. “I’ll get the books. And a towel.”

Marco had brought you a tower of texts—old logs from Fishman Island, scattered sailor folktales, anatomical studies, and even one suspiciously romantic novel titled “The Sea and Her Soldier.”

He also provided a towel for your hands (“No soggy pages, please”) and made sure your study spot was stocked with snacks, water, and exactly zero distractions.

Except Ace.

Ace showed up constantly.

“You really think you can grow legs?” he asked one day, peering over your shoulder. “What if you get weird legs? What if they’re like… goat legs?”

“I’m not gonna have goat legs.”

“I’m just saying. Be careful what you wish for.”

You threw a soggy bread roll at him. He caught it and ate it anyway.

Still, he never made fun of your goal. Not really. He watched you read with that quiet kind of pride he never said out loud. Sat with you during long afternoons when you got frustrated. Helped you sound out confusing words.

And when you found a story about a mermaid who had once walked on land—briefly, painfully, but triumphantly—Ace was the first person you shouted for.

“See?!” you beamed, slapping the page. “It’s possible!”

He leaned over to look, eyebrow raised. “It says she passed out for a week and had noodle knees.”

“I’ll take noodle knees!”

It wasn’t easy.

Some nights your tail ached just from stretching it. Sometimes the books contradicted each other. You tried rituals, breathing techniques, meditation (which Thatch interrupted with kazoo music). You even begged Marco to check your blood and bones with his flame-based diagnostics.

“There’s something,” he admitted, watching the soft glow of his power trace your tail. “Something shifting, but it’s faint. If it happens, it’ll be you that makes it happen.”

That made your heart swell.

You weren’t a soldier or a swordsman. You weren’t the strongest or fastest anymore. But this? This was something only you could do.

And you were going to figure it out.

One fin at a time.

-

It took days of planning. Seaweed. Salt circles. Sunlight timing. The “most mystically aligned tide” (according to a very dramatic book Marco let you borrow under protest).

The ritual had everything—half ceremony, half wild guesswork, and 100% fueled by your own stubborn, sea-slick hope.

You’d chosen a quiet, hidden cove not far from the Moby Dick, one you’d passed dozens of times while scouting. You could still hear the crew in the distance, faint laughter on the breeze.

But here, it was just you. You… and your mission.

You started at sunrise.

Wrapped seaweed around your arms and waist like ceremonial sashes. Arranged coral fragments and pearl shards into a spiral around your rock. Murmured the words—ancient, half-remembered phrases from the stories—and pressed your tail into the soft sand, letting the sun warm your scales.

You closed your eyes. Focused your breathing. I want to walk beside them, you thought. I want to stand. I want to fight beside them. To dance at their parties. To step on land and not sink.

The ocean hushed.

A deep, quiet current swirled around you, gentle and curious. And then—heat.

It started in your fins. A tingle. A pull.

You gasped, clutching the rock beside you as your lower body seized with unfamiliar pressure. It wasn’t pain—not exactly—but your bones ached. Your muscles spasmed like they were arguing with themselves.

Then—POP.

You looked down.

And froze.

Toes. Actual, webbed little toes. Five on each side—poking through the fins at the edge of your tail, wiggling experimentally in the air like baby fish learning to flap.

You stared in stunned silence.

Then squealed so loudly that seagulls took off from the cliffs.

By the time you swam back to the ship, Ace was waiting at the edge, fidgeting and scanning the sea like he hadn’t moved all day.

You burst up from the water, beaming. “Ace! I GREW TOES!”

He blinked. “Wait. What?”

“TOES. Look—!”

You slapped your tail on the rail. Your fin twisted, and sure enough, there they were—awkward and tiny and hilarious, sticking out like confused little flippers.

Ace immediately burst out laughing. “Oh my god. You did! That’s the weirdest, most incredible thing I’ve ever seen!”

Marco appeared next, having been dragged by your yell. “You what now—oh my god, she did grow toes.”

“Don’t mock me,” you pouted, flipping water at both of them. “This is a very big deal. It means I’m close.”

“Very close,” Marco said, blinking. “If you can grow those, it means the transformation process is starting. It might take time, but—”

“I’M GONNA HAVE LEGS.”

“Probably.”

Ace grinned and thumped your shoulder. “You’re gonna be the first pirate with a cutlass and flippers.”

You beamed.

Your tail still wasn’t a pair of legs. You still couldn’t stand beside the crew on land just yet.

But now?

You had toes. And that was something.

--

You trained like it was a second job.

Day in, day out—sun up to moonrise—you practiced shifting. Growing toes. Ungrowing them. Twitching webbing. Isolating muscle groups in your tail you didn’t even know existed. Marco supervised when he could, occasionally adjusting your form like you were some kind of clumsy aquatic gymnast.

Ace called it your “Leggy Training Arc” and kept score.

“Day 6: Two successful toe sprouts. One toe cramp. Confidence level: Wiggly.”

You flipped water at him. Daily.

But progress was happening.

You were getting better. Stronger. Your tail felt lighter when you tried to shift it. The warmth returned faster now when you focused your will. The ocean around you seemed to respond—gentler waves, quiet encouragement.

So finally, you decided: It was time.

The crew gathered in a quiet cove for the second ritual. Everyone was oddly respectful about it… at first.

Marco had the seaweed sashes ready. Thatch brought snacks like it was a picnic-slash-magic show. Ace sat front row with the smuggest, most supportive grin imaginable. Even Whitebeard watched with crossed arms and a faint nod of approval.

You closed your eyes, breathed in, and whispered the words again. Let me walk beside them. Let me stand.

The energy surged. Your tail tingled. Something shifted.

This is it… you thought. It’s happening!

You opened your eyes.

And looked down.

…

…

“Why is there ONE. GIANT. FOOT.” you shouted.

The crew stared. Horrified. Awestruck. Emotionally shattered.

Where your beautiful, scaled tail had once been was now one single, pale, skin-covered monstrosity of a foot—like a chicken drumstick from hell.

Toes. So many toes. All mashed into one end. You had a big toe the size of a peach.

“WHAT IS HAPPENING TO ME.”

Thatch fell backwards, howling with laughter. “IT’S—IT’S A MERFOOT—”

Ace wheezed so hard he nearly fell into the water. “It’s like a cursed flipper! Oh my god!”

Marco clutched his head like his medical career was flashing before his eyes. “I’ve never seen this in any of the literature!”

“CHANGE BACK, CHANGE BACK—!!” you screamed, flailing your horrifying leg-foot and accidentally slapping Ace in the shoulder with it.

You dropped into the water like a rock. Bubbles everywhere. One final shriek. A flash of light.

And when you resurfaced—soaked, panting, eyes wild—your beautiful mermaid tail was back.

“Don’t,” you wheezed. “Don’t speak.”

Silence.

And then: “Bigfoot confirmed,” Thatch whispered.

You groaned and sunk beneath the water.

You were called “Big Toe” for a solid two weeks.

Thatch carved a tiny wooden replica of the Big Foot and painted it pink.

Ace kept drawing it in chalk on the deck where you swam up. Marco refused to speak of it, citing "emotional scarring."

But despite the teasing—despite the humiliation—you still smiled. Because they laughed with you, not at you. And every time Ace caught you pouting, he’d nudge you and say, “Hey… no one else has done what you’ve done. You’re halfway to walking.”

“…With one foot.”

“Still counts.”

You were mortified. But you were also… proud.

Because you were trying. And one day, you would get it right.

Preferably with two feet next time.

-

It happened at dawn.

No chanting. No ritual circle. No dramatic seaweed crown.

Just… you.

You’d been floating beside the ship, thinking about the way the crew laughed during dinner the night before—how their boots had clunked on the wood of the deck, how they leaned on each other, how they all went below to sleep and you… stayed in your tub, as always.

And something inside you whispered: Go to them.

Your skin prickled. Your muscles clenched.

This time, it didn’t hurt. It shifted.

You gasped as your tail shimmered, bones stretching and realigning. You gripped the rope netting beside the ship, breathless as the familiar strength of your mermaid body curled inward—

And two legs—actual, symmetrical, human legs—unfolded from the ends of your hips, water dripping from the knees down.

You laughed.

Then screamed.

Then immediately face-planted onto the deck.

“ARE YOU OKAY?!”

Ace came sprinting over, barefoot and half-asleep. You were lying flat on the deck, legs twitching, arms out like a starfish.

You lifted your head and beamed at him. “I have legs.”

He blinked. “You… do.”

Then he laughed, all warmth and disbelief. “You actually did it. You’ve got real legs!”

You sat up and waved them wildly in the air, giggling. “I don’t know how they work yet, but LOOK! TOES! AGAIN!”

Marco walked by with a mug of coffee, paused mid-step, stared, and said dryly, “Please, for the love of science, try not to break your neck in the first hour.”

You tried standing again.

This time, Ace looped an arm around your waist and acted as a human crutch. “Left… now right… there you go…”

You wobbled. You giggled. You fell onto him three separate times. Thatch tried to bet on how many steps it’d take before you faceplanted again. Izo gave you his actual boots (“For style, not function”).

But step by step… you walked.

Ace led you across the deck, letting you lean on him as you passed parts of the ship you’d never reached before—the galley (it smelled amazing), the war room (full of maps and secrets), and finally…

“The table,” you whispered. “I’ve never sat here before…”

He helped you into a seat at the long dining table where the crew was already cheering your arrival. They made room for you. Piled your plate high. Banged their cups on the wood every time you managed to sit up straight without wobbling.

“Cheers to Little Legs!” someone yelled.

You flushed with joy. “Please don’t make that my new nickname.”

“Too late!”

That Night

You didn't return to your barrel.

Instead, they helped you climb a ladder (slowly, very, very carefully) to the crew’s sleeping quarters.

There, waiting just for you, was a hammock. Your own.

It swayed gently. It smelled like the sea and cotton and soap and home.

You climbed in with wide, starry eyes, legs tucked under you like they’d always been there.

Ace passed by and gave the edge a gentle push. “Welcome to the crew, Legs.”

You beamed at him. “You’re never going to let that go, are you?”

“Nope.”

-

The Next Morning

You ran.

You ran.

It was a clumsy, glorious sprint across the deck, wind in your hair, feet smacking the wood as you laughed like a maniac.

“She’s loose!” someone shouted. “Catch her before she jumps into the ocean with legs on!”

Ace tried to chase you. You dodged him. You ran circles around Thatch. You danced on your tiptoes in front of Marco, who looked mildly terrified you were going to fall again.

But you didn’t fall. Not this time.

You had legs. You could walk. You could run.

And your heart had never felt so full.

[thefanciestdressedotter]

OP as parents: Marco

CWs: None, pure fluff

Patience of a saint from having to deal with idiots on the Moby Dick

Wants you to explore the world around you to learn things and gain experience, so will only intervene if needed

Generally calm, comes from having to balance the crew out

Would teach you a few things about medicine here and there so you could help yourself in a bad situation, but won't take it further unless you want to follow in his footsteps as a doctor

Everyone else on the crew became your uncles, aunts, and auncles (and grandpa in Whitebeard's case) when you were introduced

When Whitebeard takes you on his shoulder (which happens a lot) Marco worries about you falling SO BAD if you dont have either a devil fruit or training to help you not die from the height

Thatch teaches you cooking when Marco is busy with patients

Ace takes you out to cause trouble whenever the Moby Dick docks

Izou teaches you about Wano etiquette and dancing

Overall, you get a lot of different knowledge from your many, many family members

At the end of the day, Marco loves you dearly and hopes when you eventually leave the nest (ha) you live your life happily

[0lshadyl0]

Any HC’s or scenarios on Yandere Namur from one piece.he’s a very interesting character and I love him🤗❤️

He’s such a silly guy🤍🤍🤍

(PS: can you make the S/O a siren that is literally your boy best friend plsssssss💜✨)

Platonic Yandere Namur headcanons

My love, I'll be honest with you, I don't know much about Namur so this may seem a bit oc in his personality but my dear gyojins also deserve love and seeing that almost nobody (or rather nobody) talks about him, well I'll be the one to take the first step even though it may or may not be the best.

And I'll make it platonic yandere since you want him to be best friends with a mermaid

Namur is extremely protective of his mermaid friend. Due to his nature as a shark gyojin, as well as the more delicate nature of mermaids

We all remember the Sabondy arc and how valuable mermaids are in the slave market, Namur, as an experienced pirate in one of the four most fearsome crews at sea, should know this better than anyone

So he will always be making sure of your safety, which means that you will always be under the keen eyes of the gyojin especially when they are near land or on islands where the hostility of humans towards creatures like you and him is well known.

Namur is like the older brother who feels that he is the only one who can take care of you properly, he even feels that his human comrades are not careful enough with you so he takes care of your meals

Namur is careful with anyone who approaches you especially men, he knows that men can have bad intentions and take advantage of you, if you want friends, they will only be the ship's nurses, Whitebeard or the other commanders and only because they can take care of you if there is danger

When you want to explore the sea, of course when the crew is resting from exploring new places, Namur will be by your side accompanying you or at a prudent distance if you want to be "alone" although the truth is you will never have the luxury of being alone unless he is dead

If his friend is sad, discouraged or even hurt, Namur cares deeply and will do everything he can to cheer her up or heal her wounds. His protective nature intensifies at these times, showing a softer and more compassionate side. After all, your emotional stability is important to him.

Namur is quite loyal to his mermaid friend, even above other friendships or alliances in his crew. In fact, it is up to the same level of loyalty that he has with Whitebeard or his other commander brothers.

[sabo-has-my-heart]

Hi :D

I need to say that I love your writing very much. You're literally so amazing at describing characters and their emotions , their actions and the background as well!

Tho, If you feel comfortable enough - Can you make headcanon or drabble (choice is up to you) about Platonic!Roger Pirates and Whitebeard Pirates having a young crewmate that is very mature but is really self-sacrificial? By that I mean , they are not a fighter but don't want to be burden so they do anything they can to not be useless in their opinion?

So I did headcanons because I'm not good with drabbles. It's either 800-900 words minimum or nothing. I don't do drabbles. That being said, I hope you enjoy this, just remember this is just how I see them.

Word Count: 900

Roger Pirates

Roger totally pouts about you being very mature

You’re a kid, you should be enjoying life!

Orders the crew to give you as few chores as possible.

That’s not to say you don’t do plenty, just that Roger doesn’t assign it to you.

Constantly telling you to go have fun and enjoy the sunshine.

Part of you wants to, you want to make him happy, you kind of want to go have fun.

But what if you become a burden by doing so?

What if you cause trouble like Buggy and Shanks?

Nope! Not gonna happen!

And you go right back to helping out. 

Rayleigh has had to forcibly stop you before.

Actually picked you up, set you in a chair, and ordered you to enjoy a small dessert.

In his defense, you’d been working yourself pretty hard at the time.

The entire crew knows not to wake you in the morning unless necessary. 

It’s not that they don’t want your help, but they’re worried about you.

Rayleigh suggests a therapist. 

You got so caught up in taking care of things that you missed the appointments.

The crew honestly tries their best to get you to stop and relax.

They’ve seen you overwork yourself, it wasn’t pretty and they all felt terrible for not stopping you sooner.

You still find plenty to do though.

Them not telling you to help actually makes you feel worse. 

You’re being a burden by trying not to be a burden!

Rayleigh realizes this and you, Roger and Rayleigh reach an agreement.

You’re to do the chores you’re given and no more unless asked.

Buggy and Shanks aren’t allowed to ask you for help. 

You’re allowed to get the usual early wake up call, but you have to spend a mandatory 2 hours being a kid and having fun.

Your fun usually involves helping Crocus organize the infirmary or just talking with Shanks (and keeping him out of trouble).

Neither Roger nor Rayleigh are happy about it, but they accept that it makes you happy so they don’t say anything.

You tell them that you just don’t want to be a burden… They laughed.

They told you that you were a kid, the only thing kids should worry about is being kids, not about being burdens. 

Still, if doing a certain amount each day gets you to have fun later, they’ll take what they can get.

Whitebeard Pirates

Oh dear.

If you think Roger was bad, try dealing with his son.

Ace loves goofing off and causing trouble.

Haruta also likes causing trouble. 

The two try to get you in on their trouble very, very often.

Not that they do, but they’re really trying to get you to enjoy life. 

Unfortunately, watching them cause trouble and make messes only makes you want to do more.

Their jobs as commanders are important and they’re great fighters, but damn do they cause trouble for people. 

Marco, Izou, and Thatch help though. 

They keep you busy but also keep you from overworking yourself.

Thatch will give you easy tasks in the kitchen, Marco will give you simple tasks in the infirmary. 

It’s always stuff that’s ‘important but I just don’t have the time’. 

Izou helps in a rather odd way. He insists on spa days with you, says your company is relaxing, that he needs someone he can talk to but not like Ace or Thatch.

So you take spa days with him.

He actually really does like your company and it does help him relax, but it’s 90% for your sake.

Even Whitebeard has you help him. 

He’s 20 ft tall, Luffy literally fits in his giant hand! He needs someone to help him with small things. 

You’re young and small, so you do a lot of things he’s ‘too big’ for. Could he technically order things in his size? Yes, but that would be a lot of money when he has someone small who can do it for him.

At least, that’s what he tells people. 

You’re often busy this way but actually do very little work.

Which was their intention.

You’re a kid, they don’t want you being too grown up but they know if they try and stop you, you’ll find other ways.

So they keep you busy while making things easy. 

Organizing things, sorting produce, spa days, writing out various orders from the captain, reading off lists made by the commanders, all stuff that requires very little actual work but is still important to each of the commanders.

Ace and Haruta try to make their tasks fun as well.

Sometimes it works, sometimes it just annoys you.

Are they mocking you by doing this?

Whitebeard does have one very strict rule for you though.

No working after dinner, the time between dinner and bed is to be spent winding down and getting ready for bed.

Someone once caught you trying to clean the kitchen counters after dinner to make life easier for Thatch. 

Whitebeard ‘grounded’ you for a week. You weren’t allowed to help anyone with anything, you felt awful.

Ace and Haruta were assigned to you to make sure of that.

You never disobeyed the rule again.

It’s not that you don’t want to have fun, but you just really don’t want to be a burden to anyone. 

You spend some of the time after dinner just doing what you want to do.

[rollinouttahere-writes]

platonic yandere WB and orphan feral child reader

Solitude

Next

Platonic Yandere Whitebeard Pirates x GN Child Reader

5.3k words

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You hated pirates. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

It tastes so good.

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

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

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

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

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

Your stomach growling.

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

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

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

“Hey, wait! Come back!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Everything is okay. You’re safe for now.

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

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

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

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

Footsteps. Lots of them. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“... (Y/N).”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And you’re surrounded by three pirates. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

Thatch spoke first, “Can they talk?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Is it hard to breathe through your nose?”

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

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

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

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

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

You nod.

“How long have you been alone for?”

“... Three years.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[gatitties]

HELLO SO UM LOVE UR WORK BUT I DO WANT SOME MORE ANGST IN GENERAL SO IWAS WONDERING IF YOU COULD DO A THING WITH THE WHITEBEARD PIRATES AND STRAW HATS WERE A TEEN READER FUCKING dies, uh yeah just like reactions and stuff if you don't feel comfortable with making that type of angst that's completely fine too!!! But urm yer 🦠🗣️

—Whitebeard Pirates & Strawhawts x teen!reader (platonic)

—Summary: It is said that when you are born you set your destiny, but why did it have to be so cruel to you?

—Warnings: blood, dead

Ohhh, It's not like I don't want to write angst, but I feel like I'm not good at itttt 🤚🏻 (sorry for the delay again)

—Time is something immovable, something that humans cling to without knowing if they are wasting it or taking advantage of it.

—You never thought that you wasted your time with Whitebeard's crew, not a single second was wasted.

—Because when no one was looking, in the middle of a colossal battle, your blood spread like water spilled from a glass, taking your life without mercy, the only thing you saw were happy moments with your crew.

—Your breathing became slow and your vision focused and out of focus, seeing how in the distance almost the entire crew ran to save Ace.

—You were one of the many corpses found in Marineford, maybe even one of the first people to die.

—Your captain always warned you of your recklessness, you were still young, you made mistakes and you let yourself be carried away by the wind of life.

—It's a shame that it passed in a flash, so sudden and unexpected that no one knew you were gone until the waters calmed down.

—You hadn't been the only one, but the living couldn't even see you for the last time.

—Izo preferred it that way, he preferred to have a vision of you in which the sparkle in your eyes remained intact, in which you joked with him.

—He preferred to think that in some way you lived but fled before you could die, but deep inside his being the uncertainty of your death would remain.

—Marco was the one who decided not to tell anything, because when he found your lifeless body it was some time after the events, among all the people, you remained there with empty eyes.

—He had to look away, it had already been painful for him to have to bury his father and friend, now you too.

—You stabbed him in the heart when he saw your inert posture asking for help even though you were rigid, you looked like something he hadn't seen in a long time, a normal scared teenager.

—When he buried you next to Ace and Whitebeard he wondered if he could have done something to save you, or if your destiny was to die alone with no one to ask for help.

—Whatever it was, you wouldn't be so alone up there.

—The helplessness and anguish of seeing your partner and friend beaten to death is something indescribable, Luffy was burning with rage as he saw the scene with his own eyes.

—It was only seconds, but it was enough for there to be no turning back.

—Zoro, Sanji and Luffy took charge of finishing off the person who had beaten you until you were unrecognizable and useless.

—It didn't matter how much Chopper ran, how much Nami and Usopp cried, not even Robin's last hug could stop all the pain that spread over your body.

—Brook, Jinbe and Franky remained serious, a little more on the sidelines, they couldn't hear how you begged for it to end, for them to end your pain, for them to end you.

—Luffy got angry with you for saying those things, he was the only one who was desperate to make you see reason when your conscience was already abandoning you.

—The others knew it, they knew that there would be no chance to see you laugh, joke or smile again, that their last image of you would be a miserable plea to end your suffering, with your body bruised and covered in blood.

—Zoro had to hold Luffy to calm him down while he looked somewhere else but you, unable to accept the reality of another loss.

—Nami hugged your body until it stopped being warm, holding it despite the stained clothes, she didn't stop crying on your shoulder and caressing your head to calm you down, even knowing that you were already gone.

—The worst thing was seeing your deep expression of pain, your inevitable suffering and desperation to leave was a scar that left a mark on everyone.

—No one spoke for a couple of days after your death, everything felt colder and emptier, after all you were just a teenager trying to have a good time, looking for adventures with friends. Why? Why you of all people?

[mofics]

May or may not be writing a fic where Ace invites reader to spend the holidays (yes I’m late, I know) with his family and he deadass just gets them on the moby dicky and shit happens (modern au)

[this-blog-needs-a-name]

One Piece Fic Recs

This is a list of incredible One Piece fanfics I have read either on Tumblr or Ao3 the majority of which are character x reader/oc.

📝 Ongoing/Unfinished

Long Works (>25,000 words)

It Comes in Waves by analogwriting Trafalgar Law x f!reader (71k)

The Bird & The Mermaid (Trafalgar Law x F!Reader) by BlackOrchid1004 (40k)

Small Changes by SweetScentences Platonic Law and Corazon fix it (37k)

The Daughter's Return by @cozage Portgas D. Ace x f!reader (126k)

Birds of a Feather by flyingfishgirl Marco the Phoenix x f!reader (74k)

Inked on Skin by Archaeological / @tackyink Trafalgar Law x OFC (385k)

📝 Home of the Sun by Nahella Portgas D. Ace x f!reader (167k)

📝 Free (Trafalgar Law/Reader) by ElenaMoon (153k)

📝 Throne by teroinreadsteroinwrites Shanks x OFC (41k)

📝 This is Us by Anonymous Portgas D. Ace x f!reader (90k)

📝 Card-Sharp by VintagexTypewriter Shanks x OFC (90k)

📝 Home Is Where the Hearts Are by brouhahas Trafalgar Law x f!reader (37k)

📝 Rare Whales, Shining Seas, and the One That Dreams of Them by NunTheWiser Platonic Whitebeard Pirates, Platonic Heart Pirates x OFC (339k)

📝 Bound by Silver by ToastedMilkBar Corazon x f!reader (46k)

📝 Immune To Your Charms by @grandline-fics Donquixote Doflamingo x f!reader (26k)

📝 Chaos in Their Bones by @eureka-its-zico OPLA Zoro x f!reader (148k)

📝 Determination! by @thesharktanksdriver Platonic multiple characters/crews x child!reader (69k)

Puzzled by @mynewblackdress OPLA Sanji x f!reader (35k)

Medium Works (10,000-24,999 words)

Epiphytism by Jarchetype Dracule Mihawk x f!reader (23k)

Little Blue Bird by MidNightWriter42 Marco the Phoenix x f!reader (12k)

📝 Affiliation by maybeitsdee Portgas D. Ace x f!reader (23k)

📝 The Beast and the Mouse by @simpleeindulge Eustass Kid x f!reader (12k)

📝 Little Game by @gingernut1314 Dracule Mihawk x f!reader (16k)

the blade daughter by @halfvalid OPLA Zoro x f!reader, Dracule Mihawk x daughter!reader (24k)

You Should Be Sad by @fanaticsnail Dracule Mihawk x f!reader (14k)

put my name at the top of your list by @ladadiida Sanji x f!reader (12k)

Through Shadow by @gingernut1314 OPLA Sanji x f!reader (10k)

Your Highness by @nanawritesit OPLA Sanji x f!reader (13k)

Come Sail Away by @sassenach-on-the-rocks OPLA Sanji x f!reader, OPLA Zoro x sister!reader (15k)

📝 Stowaway by @spitfire-of-the-sea Platonic Whitebeard Pirates x f!reader (10k)