One Piece One Shot - Blog Posts

Hi, I really like your work with Sanji! Can I request a fanfic where the reader is a person who didn't get love from his parents as a child, but only money? The reader is a woman, if anything! How the reader will try to show her love to Sanji is your choice! Thanks in advance!

This was a bit hard at first but I ended up getting into it eventually. It might've turned out a little more angsty than I thought but I felt like it worked really well. If you aren't at 1053 i'm really sorry I put it in there bc it worked really well too.

Insecure Love

Sanji x Fem Reader. Angst/comfort and some fluff. Major Spoilers for episode 1053. 2740 words.

Sanji adores you, you’re perfect to him. Beautiful, amazing, talented, everything. You are the best woman he could ever wish for. Sometimes he even lays awake at night thinking of the memories the two of you have made, goofy smile on his face he’s so enamored. There is one problem though, just a teensy one, you’re not at all affectionate. You don’t stop him from being affectionate to you, but you don’t exactly reciprocate or initiate. Instead, you give him gifts, which was nice at first but he started to feel a bit conflicted about it the more it happened. He would rather get love from you rather than a material good you’d bought somewhere. What’s worse is that the gifts have stopped, it’s almost always just money now.

“Here.” You say blankly to Sanji while he’s cooking, handing him cash. He spots you and his eyes trail to the berri in your hand, a small frown on his face. “Is it not enough?” He jolts and quickly shakes his head.

“No, that isn’t it. Thank you.” He forces a smile and takes it, pain in his chest. Your boyfriend tries so hard to make you feel loved, cooking for you, complimenting you, showing physical affection, but all you do is hand him cash like payment for a service; like his love was simply something nice you pay him for. He’s tried refusing it before but you had gotten upset, putting it away with a sad expression until he agreed to take it. Now you look at him as he pockets it, telling himself he’ll use it to buy ingredients for a dish you’ll like. After he puts it in his pocket he hugs you, kissing you for a bit before pulling away. “I’m going to finish cooking soon, my love, would you like to stay here?” His eyes are expectant, hoping you’ll stay, but you shake your head.

“I’ll leave you to it, you should focus.” With that, you leave him alone in the kitchen. He looks at the ingredients he was chopping, the money you gave him weighing down his heart. Is this really so one-sided? Has he just been bothering you this entire time? Maybe he’s just a toy you can play with, a music box that sings for you when you put money inside. Those thoughts crowd his head as he cooks until he accidentally lifts a hot lid with his bare hand, burning his skin; but before he can go to treat it... it heals on its own. The cook grits his teeth, clenching his fist. What a creepy ability. He puts his head in his hands and takes deep breaths, it’s okay, he loves you, you’re still together.

“Are you alright?” Robin asks him as he sets food down in front of the girls, including you, completely spaced out.

“Oh, sorry Robin-chan.” He snaps out of it and smiles at her. “I’m doing okay.” The cook leaves to serve the rest of the crew, steps noticeably heavier than normal. The women watch this, then look to you.

“Did you two argue or something? What’d he do?” Nami asks, ready to defend you, but you shake your head.

“I don’t know, I thought he was okay earlier, I handed him money and he accepted like normal.” You’re confused, and they both look at eachother.

“Like normal..?” Nami asks again.

“Yeah, I’ve been giving my allowance to him since we started dating. I know he sometimes struggles with food budget so I like helping out.” You explain and the two girls stare at you.

“(Y/n) what have you been doing so far in your relationship with Sanji?” Robin questions you and you start to talk, explaining that you’ve been getting him gifts since you both started dating; but you ran out of ideas on what to give him so you’ve started to give him money when he makes you happy.

“Wow…That’s horrible.” The navigator states, starting to pity Sanji.

“Like a sugar baby?” Your jaw drops slightly at Robin’s comparison and you quickly shake your head.

“A sugar baby!?” You’re shocked but start to think about it. “Wait, is that what he wants?”

“Obviously not!” The navigator snaps at your obliviousness. “He basically collapses the moment a woman does something for him but you’ve just been giving him money?”

“Wouldn’t you like that though?” You point out and she frowns.

“That’s different.” She considers money an okay gift for her, though even she would get annoyed if she had a lover that would only give her money and ignore anything else. “Plus you hardly show him affection, I thought it was just your guys’ thing so I didn’t say anything but you’re clearly bumming him out.”

“I haven’t refused anything from him though, and I don’t get mad at him for flirting with other women.” The navigator sighs, mentally facepalming, this isn’t working out. You’re too oblivious and Sanji’s too much of an idiot to tell anyone something’s wrong, much less a woman he loves. Robin comes up with something.

“Tomorrow you should come to our room at noon. We’ll assist you” You tilt your head, confused, but agree.

That night, Sanji heads to bed still sad and only getting worse. He can’t sleep, he’s been having trouble doing so since that happened. ‘She was there, she must’ve seen.’ An unnatural thing, becoming the same type of monster he always despised. You must’ve fallen out of love with him, that’s it. He can’t blame you, but it doesn’t mean it isn’t digging a hole into his chest. He curls up into a ball on his bed, grasping at the sheets next to him like you’ll be there.

_________________

The next morning goes as it usually does on the Sunny. Sanji wakes up early to make breakfast for everyone and when they wake up it’s time to eat. The difference now is that Sanji seems off, tired, he doesn’t yell at Luffy or Zoro and his happy comments towards Robin and Nami aren’t enthusiastic. When he sets down your plate in front of you you look up at him, trying to scan his face if he’s sick. He awakened late so it would make sense if his Germa genes weren’t as strong, maybe he’s gotten sick? You’re worried and so is everyone else, except Luffy who doesn’t notice until after eating. He almost says something but is promptly elbowed so he keeps shut. He means well but mentioning it right now will make things worse, plus, the girls have a plan.

Afternoon finally strikes and you walk into the shared girls room, they aren’t there. 'Maybe I came too early?’ You think to yourself, checking the time to make sure it’s noon. Suddenly you hear footsteps and the door opens, revealing Robin, Nami, and your boyfriend. They push him inside and he spots you, looking shocked; but before he could ask what’s going on the door closes. He tries the doorknob but it’s locked, switched so the lock is on the outside.

“Don’t even try unlocking the door or breaking it down. You aren’t allowed out until you two communicate.” Nami states and footsteps are heard fading away. You stare at Sanji’s back, his hands on the wooden door. Does he not want to be with you alone with you this much? Usually he’d be excited to have time to spend with you.

“Is something wrong?” You ask him and the cook turns quickly, not prepared for this. He isn’t ready yet! He still needs to prepare his heart for the breakup and practice his apologies for you falling out of love. “Sanji..” You reach a hand out to him and he flinches, pressing his back against the wall like he’s afraid of you. He’s scared to be touched by you, scared that when you feel his skin you’ll retract from fear and disgust from the steel-like flesh. It isn’t right, these misunderstandings cause pain and you bite your bottom lip. What are you doing wrong, what did Nami mean by saying what you were doing was horrible? You step away from him and turn around, the both of you too insecure to speak. Fortunately, being trapped in this room will force you to.

‘She can’t even bear to look at me.’ Negativity clouds his judgment, irrational thoughts filling his mind. “I’m sorry.” An apology, it sounds guilty. This must be a sign.

‘He’s breaking up with me…’ There’s too much stress, him avoiding you, being told something is wrong, and now this breakup. The dam of stone formed by the years of trauma starts to crack, tears dripping from your eyes. Sanji doesn’t see it, but he can hear your shaky breaths. It causes his eyes to widen and his worry for you overpowers his instinct to pull away.

“Mon cœur!?” Your lover walks to you and scans your teary face, his hands cupping your cheeks.

“You don’t have to call me that,” His heart breaks, you’re breaking up with him so he would have to stop calling you that. Your next words confuse him, though. “I know you don’t want to.” …He doesn’t want to? Sanji blinks a few times, why would he ever not want to call his everything what she is?

“What are you talking about? I-”

“Stop forcing yourself!” You yell and he jolts. “It must’ve been hard. Your love for women made you stay with me for so long but I know you don’t love me. Being hesitant about my gifts, not talking to me as much, and you're starting to look tired too.” You step back and put your face in your hands. “You must be staying up late thinking about how you could break up with me.” He stands there, shocked. Him… breaking up with you? The perfect woman completely out of his league? Tears flow from your eyes faster and he tries to make sense of it all, his brain so focused on his own faults that the thought of you being insecure of yours is unable to cross his mind.

“Do you mean the berri you’ve been giving me?” He manages to put together and you nod. He continues to think. “You… it wasn’t payment to you?” He doesn’t know what else to call it so he settles with that word.

“Payment?” You wipe your eyes and sniffle. “Is that why you’ve been staying with m-”

“No, nonono of course not. I thought..” Sanji quickly interrupts you, stopping that thought. This is different from what he thought was going to happen, but it still hurts to speak his mind when it only reminds him of what’s wrong, well what he thinks is wrong. “I thought you were giving me those things as payment because you didn’t want to pay attention to me. So I wouldn’t bother you, that my love was just a transaction.” He says the last part more quietly and your heart drops. This is familiar, you’ve felt this exact way before when you were young. Going to your parents for love and only getting money in return to shut you up and get you away. You start to shake and cry harder.

“I-I, I didn’t know. I’m sorry..!” You’re just like them, but Sanji doesn’t care; hugging you.

“It’s okay, it’s not your fault.” He’s already forgiving you and you haven’t even explained anything.

“No, it’s n-not okay.” You say while shaking your head, it’s nerve-wracking to talk about your past but you choose to. For him. “I… I thought I was doing the right thing. That I was different from my parents who would give me things instead of love, I always made sure t-to never tell you to go away or reject you but I ended up making you feel the exact same way I did!” You pull away and cover your face. “I’m horrible!”

‘The same way she did?’ He processes what you said, what’s happening. The struggle of trying so hard to be different from family only to end up like them is something he knows as well. His hand goes to his chest, pressing down and feeling almost completely dense skin instead of the regular squish of flesh; just like his brothers. “You don’t think I’m a monster…” You quickly shake your head. “Why didn’t you say so? Are you sure- I mean you never wanted to be with me!” Whenever he was cooking or if he went shopping you would just give him money and wave him off.

“I..” You think about that, then start to get embarrassed. “I didn’t want to bother you, what if I get overly clingy and get you mad?” Sanji hears this and it’s like weight has been dropped from his heart, but hearing you say this so insecurely still makes him slowly sink to the ground. “Sanji?”

“Bother me.. being clingy.” Gods, he would do anything to have you cling to him when he’s cooking or shopping. “You could never, ever, not in an eternity, ever bother me by being ‘clingy’”

“But don’t you get busy? You work so hard cooking and when you’re out shopping you’re talking with women, wouldn’t I make it awkward if I butted in?” He hangs his head in shame, the few times that you’ve agreed to go shopping he has flirted with other women; but he had assumed you didn’t care. In a way, he would do it on purpose hoping to get a reaction, even looking back at you. Anything to show a sign you loved him, that he wasn’t a toy, but all he was doing was making things worse. This lack of communication was only causing pain to you both. How could he ever make this up to you? He was already unworthy and now he had dared to cause such suffering to the love of his life. “Baby…” You crouch down and cup his face so he’s looking at you, his eyes are teary.

“I hurt you.”

“We ended up hurting each other.” You wipe his tears with your thumbs. “Do you still want to be with me? Even if I've been messing up?”

“I should be the one asking you that, treasure. My love.” Sanji hugs you, pulling you close to him so you’re on his lap. You can feel his hesitance, the fear that you’ll pull away because he’s different now, but you don’t. Instead you press closer to him, lifting your head up to look at him. You don’t really initiate kisses, so you’re nervous as you place your lips on his. He’s only shocked for a moment before he kisses back, resting his hand on the back of your neck. This is the longest series of kisses you’ve had, almost a minute before you have to pull away. “S-Sorry, I’ve gotten better at holding my breath lately.” A bit awkward it’s from something he dislikes, though.

“So I don’t have to worry if I kiss you alot?” You ask and his pupils basically turn to hearts.

“No, you don’t.” Before you two can kiss again there’s the sound of the door unlocking, making you quickly get off of Sanji’s lap as he stands up so Robin and Nami don’t see you in an awkward position. They almost think that nothing has happened but seeing the two of you clearly panicked changes their mind, making Robin smile.

“It went well, then?” Robin chuckles happily as the two of you flush. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

_______________

Sanji hums as he cooks, a good mood from making up with you so amazingly. His ears perk up when he hears you come inside, not needing to look to know it’s you. “I’m almost done, my love.” He states as he expertly flips a steak. You don’t say anything, which confuses him but before he can turn around he feels your arms wrap around him and your body press against his back. His girlfriend, who hasn’t shown real affection until yesterday, is clinging to him while he cooks. Is this a dream?

“Don’t turn around, I’m still a little shy.” You say quietly and it echoes in his mind. Shy… shy… Gods, you’re too cute. His face goes red and he falls to the side, blood seeping from his nose. “Sanji!?” You manage to stop him from slamming fully onto the ground, shaking him. He’s in heaven, this is heaven.

Japes and Jubilations, Pt 3

The Sanctity of Sacred Spaces Masterlist

The various antics of the crews and the various ways you’re involved in it.

(Part 1) | (Part 2) | YOU ARE HERE | (Part 4)

Part 3: Haunted

The senior members (Penguin) decide to pull some pranks on the newcomers. Of course you're pulled along.

The Polar Tang’s halls could be scary, if you weren’t used to her.

That wasn’t an exaggeration, but an undisputable fact. Every single crew member whom you’ve talked to about it, admitted that they were initially put off at being in the Tang’s hall when they first joined the crew.

(Save for Ikkaku and Law, but the former was a whole different beast in her own category and the latter never let slip a single peep when you asked.)

Hell, even Bepo admitted that he and the Swallow Island duo were terrified the first few weeks they took ownership of the submarine, though Penguin and Shachi would deny it to the best of their abilities.

Though Law was no-nonsense with stuff like this, he wasn’t always around to curb the rumors the senior members liked to tell the newer recruits.

Penguin leaned closer to one of the new recruits, tanned and his brown-hair in soft spikes. “You know, you’ve had quite a few night shifts already. How do you feel?”

“It’s kind of eerie at night,” Boost admitted. “Not that I’m complaining! It’s just very… different from what I’m used to…”

“You don’t have to lie to make us feel better,” the other man said. “Everyone knows it’s scary in the halls at night. Especially down the area where the Tailor’s workshop is.”

Clione joined in, ever the shit stirrer. “Yeah! If you’re by yourself there, sometimes you can feel a presence following behind you!”

You sighed as expectant gazes turned to you, raising your hands up. “I don’t know, don’t look at me. I’m usually not in the halls late. I’m either in my bunk early or I stay in my workshop the whole night.”

Another voice scoffed, and you scooted over to let the lanky figure of the other recruit sit down next to you on the bench. “Yeah, right! What’s gonna be with us? Ghosts? Spirits? What are you five?”

“Hey!” Penguin yelled. “It’s true!”

Slick chuckled, glancing at the senior members over his meal. “Sure, sure.”

 ***

Much later on that day, as the hours were turning into night, you were visited by two men who really had too much time on their hands despite being first mates.

“Tailorrrrr!” Penguin whined dramatically. The couch creaked as he draped himself over it, partially laying in Shachi’s lap, who sat on one end. “The new recruits don’t believe us! They think we’re idiots!”

“Probably because you’re acting like it,” you responded dryly, adjusting the measurements on your template as you calculated the changes you’d have to make for the new boiler suits.

“Well, how am I supposed to earn their respect as their superior if they treat me like that?”

“Act like the full-grown man you are,” you suggested.

“Orrrr you can scare them,” Shachi suggested, shark-like smirk on his face. “Make them eat their words.”

You shot the redhead a scathing look that warned him not to go any further. But all too late, as the damage was already done, and the seed planted as the moping man was revitalized.

“We should totally use your workshop to scare the newbies,” Penguin said, a fit of determination making him jerk up and nearly nailing Shachi in the gut.

“No, the fuck we’re not,” you said immediately.

Shachi didn’t say anything, only grinning wider when you looked at him for help. He opened his mouth, and you immediately knew that nothing good would come out of it. “You know, we should spook them first. Mess around with them a little bit.”

“Yeah! And we won’t mess with anything! We’ll just need a space to hide at most.”

You sighed in exasperation, not even bothering to ask for an elaboration at the two’s jumps in conversations, as they would eventually tell you. You had higher expectations for Penguin, as he was usually the more responsible one who reigned in Shachi and the more mischievous members of the crew when Law was not around, but when it was him who got an idea, there was no hope of deterring him as he had Shachi to egg him on.

“I have some old scare masks from the festivals on my old island if you want to use it,” you grumbled, giving in far too easily. As much as you tried to deny it, you did have a soft spot and a tendency for chaos that led you to lend your services too often to them.

Penguin perked up. “Really?!? Are you sure?”

“If you can find it and put everything back the way it was after, then go ahead. But,” You stopped and raised the pencil in your hand threateningly at them like a blade, “if you guys leave my shelves messy, I’ll kill you.”

He sweated nervously. “Got it.”

 ***

It started off normally, for the most part. The days passing by without you noticing anything much. Though that could have been because you were holed up in your workshop when not out doing your assigned duties. But you did notice that out of the pair of newbies, Boost looked increasingly nervous as the time passed. Once or twice, passing by the sleeping quarters’ hall, you did spy Penguin skulking around, sometimes by himself, sometimes with either Clione or Shachi or any other person he managed to rope into. You always made sure to look straight ahead and walk a little faster to pass it.

(Supplying them with a few items didn’t mean that you wanted to participate—and, more importantly, be caught up when Law came through and cracked down upon the antics.)

(You did not want to spend another day finding bits of your body scattered around the Tang by Law’s fruit, thank you very much. You were perfectly content to sit back and watch the chaos that was your nakama unfold around you.)

Tonight’s night shift included the daily navigation lookout duties, and additional maintenance things in the engines that you couldn’t get to while the Tang’s machinery was hot and active during the day. It was you, Uni, and Penguin, alongside the pair of newbies. One senior officer to a junior to show them the ropes, plus an extra pair of eyes on the ocean. Penguin was there to fetch you from your workshop, and the little smirk on his face was the only warning you got to prepare yourself for a night of mess as you met up with Slick and Boost

You were glad, though, that even though the first mate was mischievous, he still took his duties seriously. The first half of the time spent in the engines room passed by dutifully, with the two younger members learning what they needed to manage any emergency issues that might pop up. If they got assigned to a specific role, then they’d have more in-depth training later. But tonight was just a quick rundown for them to prepare for night shifts.

(You pretended not to notice the way Boost had a queasy look on his face and that Slick’s shoulders twitched every time something creaked or clanked. Law should give you an award for the best actor on the crew.)

“Now that you two’ve got the hang of it,” Penguin announced with a grin on his face. “Tailor’ll will watch over for a little bit. I’ve gotta go to the shitter!” 

You groaned, sending him a nasty look. “You’re filthy, Peng.”

He stuck his thumb on his nose and waggled his fingers at you before turning and leaving.

“Feel free to ask me anything if you need,” you said before wandering over to your area and opening the borrowed maintenance kit and extracted a screwdriver. “Remember, don’t overtighten anything, or you might crack the casing. Check for rust or leaks or any missing screws. This area tends to rattle a lot.”

“Got it!”

While Boost and Slick settled down in their quadrant. You unscrewed the panel of one of the deactivated filter tubes and stuck your head in, checking for clogs or debris. Not many others liked doing this particular task, especially after that one time Uni found a whole horde of spiders that stowed away from a previous docking, and the next month was spent battling eight-legged terrors. It took you hours to dust out and clear your workshop once you surfaced.

You shuddered and pulled yourself out, replacing the panels and making sure they were screwed on tight. There was a clank and a curse from the corner the newbies were working.

“You alright?”

“Where did my wrench go?!” Slick stuck his head out from behind the pipes, an aggravated look on his face. “Tailor, do you have an extra?”

“Let me see…” You rummaged through the mechanic's toolbox by your leg, grimacing as you pulled out an old, rusty one that Ikkaku swore up and down to have thrown away already. “Ugh… This is the only one…”

“It’s fine, I’ll take it.” Slick accepted it with a valiant grimace on his face and returned to his work.

Your attention was piqued after that, half-focused on the newbies in case anything else happened, and the other half keeping an eye out for the missing wrench. The lights flickered, and you frowned, casting a look overhead. You were halfway through putting a mental pin into notifying Ikkaku of the malfunction when the room plunged into darkness. There was a split second of surprise before your instincts kicked in, as you stilled, listening to the noises of the Tang around you. Electricity still hummed through the floors, and there was the very distant thrum of gears in action. That meant that the lights weren’t broken. Someone turned it off.

Steady footsteps approached you and through a weak trace of your Observation Haki you identified the familiar presence before you socked them.

Penguin tapped the back of your hand teasingly as he brushed by, aimed towards where the cursing newbies were, before his steps fell silent. Wise enough to expect the upcoming trouble, all the tools were packed up before they could become a tripping hazard in the dark.

Then it began. 

Due to its nature, sound tended to echo in the Tang, the metal walls and features bouncing and warping noises until it was night incomprehensible. Within the confines of the mechanical rooms, that fact doubled tenfold as a veritable din rang in your ears.

You were calm in the chaos as their footsteps and screaming approached you, chased along by ominous clanking and the frankly ridiculously scary laughter Penguin could produce. Hands grabbed onto either side of your shoulders, jostling you a bit, but you didn’t move even as the noises got nearer. Just when it sounded like it was right in front of you, everything cut off. The three of you were left in silence for a few moments, fingers digging into your shoulders and two forms that were too tall trying to huddle behind you. When the lights turned back on, you had two oversized males clinging to your back and a pair of wrenches sitting innocuously in front of your boots.

“I’m gonna piss my pants,” Slick muttered. He shook your shoulders a little bit. “H-Hey you didn't say that the sub’s got electrical problems at night. Isn’t that dangerous?”

“I’ll let the head mechanic know,” you drawled, nudging the wrenches with a boot. Raising your hands, you patted the hands on your shoulders conformtingly. “Anyway, your wrench’s back, Slick. Get back to work, you two. The faster we finish, the more time we can spend with Uni in navs. Don’t you worry, I’ll kick the ass of any other ghosts here.”

It was a blessing that you finished up the mechanical work easily, so that you could let Slick and Boost run back to the navigation room to huddle with Uni. Though, as punishment for letting you shoulder most of the work, you forced Penguin to stay back and double check everything.

 ***

“How do I look?” Penguin asked, turning to you, the borrowed mask secured on his face. It looked a little silly with his hat poking up behind it, but you were more focused on your work table.

You gave a long-suffering sigh as you rubbed the bridge of your nose, eyes not straying to him as you doubled checked the two boiler suits for any last-minute errors. “You asked me that already.”

“But you didn’t answer before!”

And you didn’t bother to answer this time, either. Huffing, you folded up the suits neatly, making crisp lines even though you knew that they would be unfolded soon. With that ready for Slick and Boost, you turned to drag out an old bedsheet from the infirmary that laid in your reuse bin.

“They’ll be here soon to pick up their boiler suits,” you informed the first-mate in a tired tone, handing him the fabric. 

“Thanks!” Penguin chirped, grabbing it. The dark cloth finally covered his hat when he threw it on, concealing his identity completely with the mask. The man then shuffled behind your couch, tucking himself behind there just in time as knocking announced the arrival of your guests.

Making sure that there wasn’t an errant corner of the sheet showing, you went to open the door to let the two newest members in.

“No ghosts outside!” Slick announced, chest puffed up. “So you don’t have to worry! If you’re still scared, I can walk you at night.”

After the night shift where you bore witness to them getting scared, Slick seemed to try and double down on his previous statement denouncing his fears, hiding his increasing nervousness behind false bravado.

“Right,” you said simply, a small smile on your face as you stepped aside to reveal the new uniforms on your desk. “Well, if you want to stop talking about ghosts and start looking at your boiler suits, they’re ready.”

Both males eagerly went for their uniforms.

“Damn, you made these?!?” Slick marvelled, picking up the suit and unfolded it.

“W-Wow it’s perfect,” Boost said.

You grinned at the pair’s awe, pride puffing out your chest a little. “I’m responsible for the crew’s uniforms. Or anything clothes related. If you need something, come to me.”

Caught up in the ego of praise, your spirits were high enough that you only smirked as you saw Clione and Uni peeking into the open doorway of your workshop, the former with a smirk and a wrench in his hands and the latter reaching for the lights. Your workshop was plunged into darkness at the same time that Clione slammed his wrench into something, creating a reverberating crash in the small space that elicited shrieks from the two in front of you. It got even more chaotic as your couch screeched, moving from its spot as Penguin crawled over the back of it. In the dimness, the mask and sheet truly did look ghastly, like an eerie apparition. Coupled with the shrieking noise you had no idea he could produce, you had to say that it was quite a good act.

Slick and Boost ran screaming out the door. Penguin turned around to give you a jaunty little salute before shooting out after them. “See ya!”

Sticking your head out the door, you yelled after them, “You better bring that back clean!”

Behind you, the drawl of your captain brought heat to your ears and cheeks. “Tailor-ya. Quite lively here.”

Stepping aside, you let Law into your workshop as you turned on the lights.

“Captain,” you greeted him. “Here to tell me off? Or Penguin to stop?”

“As long as it doesn’t interfere with your work, I don’t care what you do,” he drawled. “And isn’t this ‘good for raising team morale’?”

“The only thing it’s raising is my blood pressure,” you sighed.

“Sounds serious,” he deadpanned. “You know that too much salt in your diet tends to lead to hypertension.”

Your expression flattened as a distant scream echoed down the hall.

Though it was all in jest, none of you realized how close to home the story of a roaming spirit hit. In the corner of the ceiling, above the din and noise of all your antics, a transparent, ephemeral apparition looked on, the Polar Tang quietly rejoicing as her nakama expanding in numbers.

You Don't Need to Try to Belong

Sorry if the tone near the end doesn't quite match the rest of the fic something happened in the middle of me writing it and like all good writers do I used this as an emotional outlet. But hey, who doesn't want Marco to hold them amirite? This was meant to be shorter, but the rest of the crew hijacked it like the pirates they were.

Phoenix Marco x Reader (fluff, near-death experiences, dash of sickfic & hurt/comfort)

As the unofficial ‘Fixer-Upper’, the jack-of-all-trades of the Whiteboard Pirates with a helpful Devil Fruit to boot, you tend to overwork yourself helping any issues that arises. Sometimes at the detriment of your own health.

You don’t think you’d ever get used to seeing the sun rise over the horizon from your vantage point up in the Moby’s crow’s nest. 

The gentle blush of pink peeking over the horizon, watercolor-soft as the veil of the night pulled back. Blackness faded away to reveal the glittering waves of the ocean stretched seemingly infinitely all around you. It was a freedom given to you by the Whitebeard Pirates, one you could never repay.

Sunrise also had the added bonus of signifying the end of your lookout ship, the promise of your bed waiting for you.

Below you, on the deck, the morning bell rang out, signifying the official end of the night shift’s work. The hubbub of the ship coming to life stirred up as you climbed down the mast, seeing the specks of the other lookouts doing the same at the other crow’s nests. A few members glanced your way as your feet hit the deck, and you returned the greetings thrown at you, albeit with slightly less energy.

Your stomach growled as the aroma of food from the galley drifted over when you entered the halls. However, you didn’t join the others for breakfast like normal and instead went deeper into the Moby’s bowels to where the crew’s quarters were. You’d been bothered by a persistent headache all night, and you knew that going into the noisy mess hall would no doubt make it worse.

The shared cabin was thankfully empty for the most part, and you made it over to your hammock before collapsing into it and tugging the blanket up to your chin before blacking out, looking forward to the long, uninterrupted rest you’d get.

“WAKE UP!”

You grunted in pain as you were upended from your hammock, bedding and all falling down with you. Blearily, you sat up and squinted at the pair of legs in front of you, smacking your dry lips. You didn’t know how long it was since you’d fallen asleep, but you knew it was not long enough.

A freckled face and messy black hair invaded your vision, the inquisitive expression of one Portgas D. Ace showing who exactly it was that woke you up.

“Hey! Got a moment?”

Even though it was phrased as a question, you still found yourself forcibly dragged to your feet, his grip on your wrist the sole thing that kept you moving as you stumbled through the halls and out into the deck. Sunlight pierced your half-closed eyes, and you winced, squeezing them shut as you trusted Ace not to run you both into something. You two finally paused and you cracked your eyes open to show that you’d stopped in front of Striker, in all her dripping glory as she hung hoisted up over the deck.

Ace finally released your wrist, sheepishly rubbing the back of his head. “Sorry to drag ya all the to fix up the Striker for me? I’d ask Blenheim, but he’s with the other fleet right now.”

At the request of a fixing, you forcefully shook off your sleepiness. Tiredness still lingered, and that damn headache still nipped at your temple, but you pushed it all back. Alert eyes assessed the damage in front of you as you tuned into Ace’s chattering.

“I got cornered by a few small Marine scout boats and had to take the Striker through some sorta reef. Thought I got through it fine, but I guess the coral—”

A sudden thud.

You paused in your observation to haul Ace out of the way of the crew and lay him out straight before returning to the Striker. True to his word, the bottom of Striker’s hull was deeply scratched when you bent down to take a look at it. The wood was gouged in a few points, areas where leaks would’ve no doubt let in water. It was a miracle Ace made it back. You hummed at the thought, making a note to get Pops to talk with the young man about his recklessness.

The Striker swayed gently from the lines holding her up as you pushed gently, tilting your head to catch the sound of sloshing water in her bowels. It wouldn’t do to mend everything only to have her rot from the inside out by trapped moisture. When nothing came back, you nodded approvingly and crouched down, hand reaching up to touch the largest of the holes. There was a dim glow before the wood seemed to seal up wherever you dragged your fingers over it, returning to its previous pristine state. You did the same for the others, each spark and glow only tugging at the tiredness in your bones. It was light work, but you were still exhausted by the time you finished, opting to take a seat by Ace where he lay. You were only beginning to blink off into sleep when the young man sat back up.

“—scratched ‘er up real bad and—Oh.”

Ace blinked at the newly repaired full before turning to you, sending a thousand-kilowatt smile your way.

“F’xed it,” you mumbled, shooting him a thumbs up. Your head tilted to the side and you dozed off. While your Devil Fruit, the Mend Mend Fruit was extremely useful, it did take a toll on you.

Strong arms once again wretched you to your feet, and you squawked as Ace bodily hauled you off, cheerful as ever.

“Thanks so much! Let’s go get some food. I’m starvin’’”

You went limp in the newly minted commander’s hold, resigning yourself to your fate as he dragged you along to the mess. There were a few others there who were the stragglers from lunchtime.

Ace shifted you to drape over his shoulder like a sack as he assembled a plate for the two of you. The world flipped around as he set you down at a table, and you murmured your thanks, dragging heavy limbs to your utensils to force a few bites down.

A call of your name and a harried-looking Thatch halted right by your table, relief on his face. “There you are. Glad I could catch you. Think you can get that pipe done for us now?”

Your eyes widened as you straightened. Right. You were supposed to have stopped by this morning after breakfast to help fix up the leak in the piping that the division didn’t have the supplies to replace. “Oh shit. I’m so sorry, Thatch.”

Shooting to your feet, you pushed your plate to Ace and quickly set towards the galley, Thatch on your tail. The Fourth Division greeted you, wrapping up post-meal duties as they avoided one particular section in specific. Someone already peeled away the wooden boards to expose the problematic pipe, and rags were stuffed along the spaces in the wall and sprawled on the floor. As you approached, you noticed that there was something on the pipe. You squinted at the stain and sniffed.

“Is this–Is this dried molasses?!?” 

Thatch whistled and adverted his eyes under your scrutinizing stare. “We had to make do.”

You exhaled despairingly, pressing your fingers into the sticky mess. It was concerning how often you all ran short on miscellaneous supplies, despite being an Emperor’s crew. A glow sparked up, and you sealed the gap.

The sticky, dark substance stuck to your fingers as you withdrew them, and your stomach suddenly churned. Rushing to an empty sink, you quickly washed it off as you called back, “I’m not cleaning that.”

“Fair,” Thatch said. He withdrew a rag from his chef apron. “Thanks for this.”

You hummed as you exited the galley.

Somehow, those two actions seemed to unleash a catalyst upon your peace. The promise of rest seemed further and further away as you were directed all over the ship, fixing this odd thing or that odd part. Your headache never went away, only getting worse as nausea was added to the list.

Skull called out his thanks as you bolted away from him, clapping a hand over your mouth as you beelined for the railing. You made it just in time to empty your stomach over the side. The only food in your stomach—the meager bits you managed to shovel down before Thatch interrupted—splashed sadly into the water.

Shivering, you closed your eyes to block out the sight of the swaying waters below you. The railing dug into your stomach as you slumped down into it. Everything felt hot and cold at once, and you admitted to yourself that maybe it was time to lie down. No more using your Devil Fruit for today.

As you were straightening up, a scuffle broke out from behind you. It was two recruits, roughhousing or fighting, you couldn’t care either way. But before you could move, one of them stumbled and slammed into you. Your eyes widened as your grip slipped, and because of the way you were leaning over the railing, you felt gravity tugging you to the wrong side as you pitched overboard.

Your wide eyes were fixed on the spot where you just were, too stunned to make a peep. There was a shout of alarm on board.

It was never fun falling from the Moby Dick. Its massive size meant nothing less than a painful impact, and even a few broken bones if you were unlucky.

But you wouldn’t call yourself lucky either way if you fell over the Moby in the first place.

You slammed into the waves.

The first thing that hit you was the pain. Like crashing into solid brick, your back ached from bearing the brunt of the impact. Then the insidious cold seeped in, past your clothes, past your skin, until everything went numb. Bubbles swirled past you in a dizzying spectacle, and it would’ve been pretty if not for the death grip of the weight pulling down on your limbs.

Motes of bubbles passed your lips, but you had the foresight to not open your mouth, to not breathe. But that was all you could do as you sunk deeper, black edging into your vision.

They always said that drowning was a horrible way to go, the choking of water in your lungs. But to you, it felt soft. Like the welcoming of the tiredness you’d carried around all day.

It’s so easy,

Your eyes fluttered, lips cracking open, allowing the saltwater to rush in.

You could get the rest you wanted.

You didn’t feel the arms clamping around your waist to drag you upward.

But you did notice as the two of you breached the surface, water spewing out of your mouth as you coughed. It burned going up, and you clung limply to the form you now identified to be Rakuyo as he stretched up his other arm. “Bring us up!”

He crushed you to his chest as the two of you shot up from the water, hauled up by his living flail. You both landed on the deck again, him on his feet while you were still in his hold. However, that quickly changed as your body spasmed.

“Woah there!” The man exclaimed, quickly crouching down so you wouldn’t meet a second painful impact if you spilled out of his arms.

“Someone grab Marco!”

Quickly, you were set on your side. Just in time as you retched. More seawater (seriously you don’t know how you swallowed so much) came up, through your nose, through your mouth. Warm hands rubbed your back as you gathered the strength to prop yourself up, as the spasms continued. It would’ve been mortifying to have the crew see you like this if you hadn’t seen these same full-grown men projectile vomit their dinner after a few too many drinks. As of right now, you were busy trying not to feel like death warmed over. Someone’s oversized sash fell around your shoulders as they used it to dry you off of the cold water.

“What’s going on, yoi?”

Marco’s voice was like a balm to your raw nerves as indistinct voices murmured over your head. Someone draped something soft over you (a towel?) and you sneezed.

Like the world’s most pathetic, bedraggled, wet cat, you were picked up from underneath your arms and passed over to warmer ones.

“H-Hol’ on,” you slurred, getting wrapped up in the fabric around your shoulders. Your head lolled against a warm chest. “Might throw—throw up.”

Marco shushed you. “Don’t worry about it, yoi.”

Blue and gold flames fluttered to life around you, your aches and coldness fading away. However, you still felt that bone-deep tiredness, and your lungs still rattled wetly. 

“I’m taking you to the infirmary. We have to monitor your lungs, just in case.”

Aw, man. You hated to be a bother.

Weakly wriggling in his grip, you voiced your protests, “‘M fine. L-Lemme jus’ go sleep it off.”

“You can rest in the infirmary. I healed your superficial injuries, but I can’t fix the drain your Devil Fruit already pulled from you or expel any potential water. Don’t fight me on this, yoi.”

You let out an unintelligible noise, sagging deeper into his hold. The hubbub of the ship fell away into muffled peace as he entered the infirmary, greeting the nurses there.

“Goodness! What happened?” Lisa asked as she pulled out more towels and a pair of spare clothes.

“We had a tumble off the deck,” Marco said, setting you down on a bed in the corner and stepping back for the nurse to let her set the clothes down by your side. He grabbed the privacy curtain, readying to pull it close as he asked you, “Think you can get changed, yoi? Lisa or another nurse can assist if you think you’ll need help.”

You looked down at your shaking hands, then to the set of folded clothes beside you. It was a simple enough shirt and pants, nondescript for their versatility. “I’ll be f-f-f-fine.”

The shiver that broke your words into a stutter wasn’t convincing, but Marco didn’t push it as he pulled the curtains closed around you to give you a bit of privacy. His voice came from the other side, “Let me know when you’re done, yoi.”

It took you much longer than you’d like to admit, wrangling yourself into the change of clothes, but just when Marco began shuffling on the other side of the curtain, you managed to pull the collar of the shirt over your head with your stiff limb and wrapped your hair in a towel.

“I’m d-do-done.”

The curtains were pulled open again and Marco stepped through. In the span of time it took for you to change, the man had collected equipment of his own. His stethoscope hung around his neck, and he carried a blanket rolled up under an arm and a thermometer.

“Just a precaution, yoi,” he said when he saw you eyeing his getup. You took the blanket when he handed it to you. The back of his hand came up to rest on your forehead and he hummed as he began putting on his stethoscope. “I want to listen to your lungs and keep you here to rest up.”

Letting out a put-upon sigh, you tilted your head back, staying still as Marco pressed the cold metal of the chest piece into your skin, expression calm as he focused on your breathing. After a few moments, he pulled away and tugged off the instrument.

“Your breathing sounds alright from what I could tell, yoi. But your temperature’s a little out of its normal range. How are you feeling, yoi?”

With the assessment done, you pulled away and curled up on the bed, tugging the blanket up. “Blegh, fine. I’m just gonna rest my eyes for a bit.”

“You do that, yoi,” Marco said, patting your shoulder. “I’ll watch over you.”

Letting out a huff, you allowed the lull of sleep to finally pull you under.

***

Warm hands on your forehead and cheek stirred you from the fretful slumber you were in, and you murmured, trying to pull away from the disturbance. Your breath whistled when you sighed, nose closed by a painful pressure and the rattle when you breathed seemed more prominent than ever.

There was a quiet tut before they came back with greater insistence, pulling you into a sitting position. You resisted, but your limbs felt leaden when you tried to lift them up. A slow, pounding pain pulsed in your temples on top of that, intensifying when you cracked your eyes open. You squeezed them shut again, but that peek was enough to see the slight chastisement on Marco’s expression as you identified him to be the one taking care of you.

His voice was low, kept to a manageable level that wouldn’t upset your head as he said, “Looks like you’re getting a fever, yoi. That’s strange.”

Blue flickered through your closed eyes as a gentle wash of his flames coursed through you. The pounding in your head lessened

“Tried my best to alleviate some of your symptoms, but since most of them aren’t physical injuries, I don’t think helped much.”

“It’s fine,” you rasped, blinking the crustiness from your eyes as you sat up. “Thanks for tryin’”

He hummed, pulling away. “What I’m surprised about is that you’re getting so sick from a dip in the waters. As far as I’m aware, the waters in this part of the Grand Line should be temperate enough to avoid that issue, yoi. Unless…” He narrowed his eyes at you, suspicion flashing in his gaze as he picked up on your guilty air. “You were on deck at a time where you would usually be asleep, yoi. Why weren’t you resting?” 

“Listen,” you began. “You’re not allowed to scold anybody involved in it…”

Marco sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Why do I feel like I already know who it is, yoi?”

“Ace took me out to help fix Striker,” you agreed, ignoring Marco’s muttered ‘I knew it’. “Then we swung by the galley where there was something I forgot to fix for Thatch. Some of the crew caught me about, and it kind of escalated from there.”

The way the man tilted his head was distinctively avian. “Now, why would you do that, yoi? We’ve discussed using your Devil Fruit when you’re tired.”

You pursed your lips and adverted your eyes, shrugging. “I dunno. I couldn’t just say no.”

His eyes softened. “You know… You’re deserving of rest when you’re tired. You don’t need to bend over backward to please us. You don’t have to prove anything.”

Unbidden, you felt tears spring up in your eyes, and you blamed it on the mess running through your system, pulling away so you could wipe them.

However, Marco’s hands came up to hold your face, thumb wiping away the bit of saltiness that spilled over your lashes.

“Silly love,” Marco murmured as he tugged you into his chest and enveloped you.

Pliantly allowing it to happen, your face ended up buried in his chest. His hand rubbed your back comfortingly as he shifted to take a seat and pulled you into his lap. You sank deeper into him, instinctively relaxing at the soothing warmth he emitted.

“Nobody would think less of you for resting. There’s no payment to be on the crew beyond what you can safely provide. And you’ve done plenty, are doing plenty. Pops is not going to kick you out if you don’t repair Skull’s necklace or somebody’s sandals for the fiftieth time. You belong with us. We want you.”

You closed your eyes in embarrassment, hands coming up to cover your face. Marco’s chuckle jostled you a little bit, and the arm around your waist squeezed you, dragging you even closer to him. His flames flickered over you again, and you went boneless against him, hands dropping from your face. The ache in your chest that you didn’t even know you were carrying lightened with his presence.

“You just rest now, yoi. I’ll take care of you.”

You sighed, a trembling shaky thing. “Thank you, Marco.”

And Tonight, We’ll Be Warm

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ace!”

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

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

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

“Does he now, yoi?”

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

“C’mon! We gotta run!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oi, you two!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hm. Mind if we join y’all?”

You shrugged. “I don’t mind. Ace?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sulkily side-eyeing him, you nodded.

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

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

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

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

“Haahhhhh? Since when did we sit down?”

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

“Ah dang, was I out for long?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What gives, you bastard?!?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And very desired.

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

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

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

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

“Over here, Ace!”

“Too far!”

“Watch out for that lady!”

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

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

But not too tall for what you had in mind.

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

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

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

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

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

“You got it!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No don’t! I’ll be good, I promise!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“We’re almost there,” Thatch reassured. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hm? Why’s that.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You have Ace with you, yoi.”

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

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

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

Japes and Jubilations, Pt 2

The Sanctity of Sacred Spaces Masterlist

The various antics of the crews and the various ways you’re involved in it.

(Part 1) | YOU ARE HERE | (Part 3) | (Part 4)

Part 2: Soaked

You learn a wise lesson about avoiding Penguin and Shachi after their swim patrols.

The seasoned members of the crew knew better enough than to hang around the wet room or the surrounding areas when Penguin and Shachi came back from their dives.

You, however, were not a seasoned member of the crew. You were never around when the pair headed into the waters, or came back, so you thought nothing of it when you stuck your head into a room upon earring splashing sounds coming from it. Your eyes widened when you saw the strangely structured room and the two equally drenched crew members. 

“Well, that was a good patrol, Peng!” Shachi said, muscles staining as he closed the door and sealed it shut with the hand wheel.  “And we got fish for dinner, too!”

Water poured from them both—and the net of writhing fish at Penguin’s feet—running in rivulets to the drains set throughout the room.

“Oh, hey!” Penguin grinned, catching sign of you. “What’s up?”

“Uh,” you began. “I just heard water splashing and got curious. What’s this room?”

Penguin let out an ‘ah’. “That’s right. You haven’t seen it yet, huh?”

Before you could even blink, Shachi was right next to you. To your horror, one soaking-wet arm wrapped around your shoulders and pulled you into an equally wet side. You flinched, hands coming up to push him away. The redhead clung to you like a limpet, however, dragging you into the room in question.

“This is the wet room!” Shachi explained, throwing an arm out as if to showcase it. In the background, Penguin made little jazz hands. 

“Cool,” you said limply, lamenting your clothes. It didn’t explain why they were dripping wet, though. 

Penguin’s hat-–still on his head—squelched as he wrung out the flaps. “You have no idea what we’re talking around, do you?”

You shook your head as Shachi wilted in disappointment.

“The island we come from is a North Blue island,” Penguin explained. “For ours, we have especially cold harbors, and a high percentage of the population also boast fishman ancestry.”

You squinted. “So you and Shachi are part fishmen, then?”

“Yep!” Shachi said, popping the ‘p’. He leaned closer and grinned, pulling at his mouth to show you his teeth. A veritable row of canines gleamed at you, sharp and pointed like a predator’s.

“Huh,” you said eloquently. Your uniform dripped onto the floor.

Penguin lifted the ears of his hat when you looked over, giving you a peek of the short, dark hair by the side of his head. On his temple was a scattering of smooth, pale-blue and black  scales, glinting in the light. They littered his hairline in small patches down to his neck, peeking through the dark strands of hair there.

“Pretty…”

Shachi groaned. “‘Pretty’, is that all you have to say??? Seriously?? I have fangs! We have gills!”

“Back to the point,” Penguin redirected before Shich could strip down to show you wherever his gills were. “This is the room Shachi and I use to get in and out of the sub underwater. The inventor who made this submarine built it especially for us, but it’s good for the crew to know how it works too.”

Shachi finally left your side to slap the door he was closing earlier. “This bad boy is fitted with a two-door system, both with built-in seals. The first hatch is on the outside and opens slowly to let water and us in from the outside. It closes and a system drains and pumps it back out. Once done, this inner door unseals and Penguin and I can enter the sub.”

“The two-door system helps control the water pressure, so there’s less chance of a leak,” Penguin said.

“Penguin-ya, Shachi-ya are you guys still in here—” Law stopped and stared at you, a pitying look on his face. “Ah, you got poor Tailor-ya…”

You squinted at that statement and his all too knowing look at your state, trying to straighten out your clothes. “W-What do you mean? Is this like something common?”

“Well…” Penguin began.

Shachi began whistling innocently.

“The crew always avoid them when they come back because they always latch on to the nearest person before changing out,” Law said. “Everyone’s been a victim of them at least once. I forgot to warn you.”

“Well, at least I’m not all the way wet,” you grumbled, pulling at your shirt.

“I’m surprised about that, too,” Law drawled, shifting his sword on his shoulder. “Usually both of them go for their victim at once.”

That was the wrong thing to say as both men stilled, head turning to look at you before at each other.

“Hug time!” They exclaimed.

Your eyes widened. “Hey, hey, hey, NO—”

Two bodies slammed into either side of you, pinning you in between them with a wet squelch.

At seeing your distraught expression, Law grimaced in sympathy. 

Both men had to unstick themselves from you, attention going to Law as they dragged you along. “Let’s get Cap!”

He quickly pulled up his Devil Fruit Powers to Shamble away, a scrap of paper fluttering to the ground where he was.