Coffee Mug

After writing this prompt for Namur I wanted to do a HC set for more characters.

“Help!” You shout, running over and collapsing into their arms. “It’s critical! Quickly! I need…a kiss!”

Day 2 of begging you to do this yandere x yandere Innocent!Reader for Whitebeard, Thatch, Izou, and Jozu (separately reaction, the Whitebeard Pirates don't get enough love!) where the yandere is obsessed with the innocent Marine, so like any other Yandere pirate they capture the reader mid battle,

Innocent!Marine Reader isn't innocent because they are obsessed with yandere but she worried it would affect our job so she hit it,

But! Instead of resisting or trying to escape, when the yandere! Character visited Marine!Reader, expecting protesting and demanding to be let go. Innocent!Marine Reader fell on her knees holding onto their hands (you can decide for Whitebeard because of the obvious height & size difference) with a lovesick expression on her face 'I gladly tell you every information i know about the World Government, just please love me!'

It's up to you if you want to do it or not!

Of course I write starlight! I swear it's such a good idea, I didn't like how I write it, but I'm the end I'm posting this, i really hope you enjoy it, and I'm so so so sorry that I made you ask it 3 times, so please forgive me Starlight 🙏🏻😭

𝚈𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚆𝚑𝚒𝚝𝚎𝚋𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚍, 𝚃𝚑𝚊𝚝𝚌𝚑, 𝙸𝚣𝚘, 𝙹𝚘𝚣𝚞 𝚡 𝚈𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝙼𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚎 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

𝕎𝕙𝕚𝕥𝕖𝕓𝕖𝕒𝕣𝕕

The heavy door to the captain's quarters groaned open, and Edward Newgate ducked to enter, his shadow swallowing the small, sparsely furnished room. His gaze fell upon the young Marine woman he'd had his men pluck from the battlefield. He expected defiance, tears, maybe even a foolish attempt at a last stand. Instead, he found you waiting, standing perfectly still in the center of the room. The moment your eyes met his, something shifted.

You didn't scream. You didn't plead for your life in the way he was used to. Instead, your legs buckled, and you sank to the floor with a soft thud. You scrambled forward on your knees, your uniform getting dirty, and stopped right at his boots. Before he could even process the bizarre sight, you reached out, your small hands desperately clutching the fabric of his pants.

"I-I know why you brought me here," you stammered, your voice trembling but not with fear. It was thick with an emotion he couldn't immediately place. Your eyes, wide and shining, were locked on his face. "You think I'm just another Marine. A pawn. But I'm not. I've watched you for so long, Captain Newgate. From a distance. I've read every report, seen every wanted poster... I know you're not the monster they make you out to be. You're a king. A protector of your own."

Whitebeard stared, utterly bewildered. This was a first. He remained silent, letting you pour out your heart.

"I joined the Marines because it seemed like the right path, but every day felt like a lie. All I could think about was you. Your strength, your vision... your family. I tried to push it away, to be a good soldier, but it was useless. I'm obsessed. I know it's wrong, but I don't care anymore. This is the only chance I'll ever get."

You looked up at him, your expression a breathtaking mix of desperation and adoration. "I'll tell you everything. Everything I know. I have access to patrol routes, supply manifests, secret meeting schedules, the names of officials who are too cowardly to stand up to you... I'll give you the World Government on a silver platter. Just... please..." You tightened your grip on his pants, your knuckles white. "Please, love me. Let me be yours. Let me stay with you. I'll be useful, I swear! I'll do anything you ask, just don't send me back. I can't go back to a world without you in it."

A long, heavy silence filled the room. Then, a deep, rumbling chuckle started in Whitebeard's chest, growing into a full, booming laugh that shook the very timbers of the ship. He slowly reached down, his massive hand engulfing your entire head as he gently stroked your hair.

"You are a fascinating little thing," he rumbled, his voice filled with genuine amusement and a strange, new warmth. "To throw away your entire world for a pirate you've only ever seen from afar. You have more guts than half the rookies on my ship." He looked down at your desperate, pleading face, and for the first time in a long time, he felt something other than the weight of his title. "Very well. You have my attention. Stand up."

You scrambled to your feet, and he placed a hand on your shoulder, his touch grounding you. "Your information will be... appreciated. But your devotion? That is a treasure I did not expect. You will stay with me. You will be under my personal protection. And you," he said, a rare, genuine smile gracing his lips, "will tell me more about this obsession of yours."

𝕋𝕙𝕒𝕥𝕔𝕙

The door swung open with a cheerful bang, and Thatch sauntered in, a plate of dango in one hand and a cocky grin on his face. "Alright, little Marine, time for your interrogation! I hope you like—Whoa!"

He stopped dead in his tracks, the dango nearly tumbling to the floor. There you were, on your knees, your eyes locked onto him like he was the answer to every prayer you'd ever had. He blinked, setting the plate down on a nearby table as you scrambled forward.

"Commander Thatch!" you cried out, your hands reaching for him. You caught the edge of his uniform, your fingers clutching the silk like a lifeline. "I knew you'd come! I knew you'd be the one to see me!"

Thatch was completely floored. He'd planned a whole speech, a mix of charm and intimidation to get you to talk. This... this was not part of the plan. He knelt down, getting on your level, his expression a mixture of shock and pure, unadulterated delight.

"Well now, this is a welcome surprise!" he chirped, his voice full of playful energy. "I was all set to be the big, scary pirate, but you seem to have skipped right to the good part. What can I do for you?"

"I know things," you said, your voice urgent and breathless. "Things that would be valuable to you. The World Government is planning something big, a weapons deal on a neutral island. I have the coordinates, the date, the code phrase. It's all in my head. And there's more. I know about the secret passages in Marineford, the ones they don't put on any maps. I can draw them for you from memory. Please... just let me stay. I'll give you all of it. I'll be your eyes and ears, your secret weapon. I don't care about my old life anymore. I only care about you. I'll do anything, just please, let me be by your side. Let me love you."

Thatch's grin became positively feral. He laughed, a bright, infectious sound, and gently pried your fingers from his sash to take your hands in his. "Secret passages? Weapons deals? Honey, you just hit the jackpot! I knew there was a reason I liked you the second I saw you."

He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "You know, for a Marine, you're a terrible traitor to your own side, and I absolutely love it. Forget being an informant, that's so boring. You're getting a promotion! You're now officially my 'Special Advisor on Awesome Things and Kicking Government Butt.' It's a very prestigious title, I just made it up."

He stood, pulling you to your feet with him and keeping a firm grip on your hand. "First order of business, we're getting you out of that drab uniform. It's a crime against fashion. Second, you're telling me everything over a celebratory feast I'm going to cook just for you. Welcome to the family, gorgeous. Try not to get seasick."

𝕀𝕫𝕠

The door slid open with a soft, almost silent click, and Izou entered the room with his customary grace. He held a cup of tea. He expected a frightened Marine, perhaps one he could coax into talking with a few carefully chosen words. He did not expect you to immediately drop to your knees and bow your head to the floor.

"Lord Izou," you whispered, your voice muffled by the wooden floorboards.

Izou paused, one perfectly sculpted eyebrow raised in intrigue. He set the teacup down, his movements fluid and unhurried. "Lord? My, that is a title I haven't heard from a Marine's lips before. Do raise your head. It is unbecoming to hide a face as lovely as yours."

You lifted your head, your cheeks flushed and your eyes filled with a desperate, worshipful gleam. "I mean it! I've admired you from afar for so long. Your elegance, your skill with a rifle, the way you carry yourself... you're like a work of art come to life. I tried to be a good Marine, I truly did. But my heart was never in it. It's always been with you. With the Whitebeard Pirates."

He listened, his expression unreadable, though a flicker of interest sparked in his eyes. He watched as you shuffled forward on your knees, your hands clasped together as if in prayer.

"I know things," you said, your voice urgent. "Things that would be valuable to you. Marineford is planning to get information to stop your crew and your captain, I can tell you everything, I can give you all the information I know, and all the secrets about the world government, just please, let me be by your lady. Let me love you."

Izou's lips curved into a slow, beautiful smile. He gracefully lowered himself to one knee, bringing himself to your level. He took your clasped hands in his, his touch cool and gentle. He brought your knuckles to his lips, pressing a soft, lingering kiss that made you gasp.

"My dear, what an utterly captivating proposition," he purred, his voice like velvet. "To offer me not just secrets, but your very soul. It is a gift far more precious than any weapon or map." He released your hands, only to gently cup your face, his thumb stroking your cheek. "Your devotion is the most beautiful thing I have ever witnessed. It is a flower blooming in the most unlikely of places."

He leaned in, his forehead almost touching yours, his eyes holding a mesmerizing, sweet gleam. "Of course, I accept. How could I possibly refuse such an earnest heart? You will stay by my side. You will be my most treasured secret, my beautiful little songbird. And as for your information... we will discuss it over tea. Every night. You will tell me everything, and I, in turn, will show you a world you've only ever dreamed of. You are mine now, little Marine. And I take very, very good care of what is mine."

𝕁𝕠𝕫𝕦

The door to the cabin opened with a heavy thud, and Jozu stepped inside, his diamond-armored form catching the light. He was a man of few words, expecting to find a frightened Marine he could stare into submission. Instead, he found you on your knees before he’d even closed the door, your eyes wide and fixed on him.

He stopped, his usually stoic expression faltering for a fraction of a second. You shuffled forward, the sound of your knees scraping against the wood floor the only noise in the room.

"Commander Jozu," you breathed, your voice filled with a reverence he’d only ever seen directed at Whitebeard himself. "I knew it would be you. I knew you'd be the one to come for me."

Jozu remained silent, his gaze intense and unreadable as he watched you. He was completely unprepared for this.

"I've seen you on the battlefield," you continued, your words tumbling out in a rush. "You're like a force of nature. Unstoppable. I tried to focus on my duties, on being a good soldier, but every time there was a report about the Whitebeard Pirates, my eyes would search for your name. I have drawings of you in my bunk, sketches of you in mid-fight... I know it's foolish. I know it's a betrayal of everything I was supposed to be, but I don't care anymore."

You looked up at him, your expression a desperate, open plea. "I can be useful to you. I know things. The Marines are planning a surprise inspection of a nearby allied island in two weeks. It's a front for a weapons cache. I have the coordinates and the security codes memorized. I'll tell you everything. I'll give you every secret I know. Just... please... let me stay with you. I don't want to go back. I want to be with you. I'll do anything, just please, love me."

The silence that followed was heavy and thick. Jozu stared down at you, his mind working to process the sudden, overwhelming confession. Then, a slow, rare smile touched his lips, a sight so unexpected it was breathtaking. He crouched down, his large frame still imposing but much closer to your level.

"You're serious," he said, his voice a low, gravelly rumble. "You'd really give up everything... for me?" He seemed genuinely moved, his usual stoicism melting away to reveal a flicker of vulnerability. "I'm not a man of many words."

He reached out, his calloused hand gently tilting your chin up to meet his gaze. "But I'm not letting you go. Not now, not ever."

He stood, pulling you up with him, his grip firm but not painful. "You'll stay with me. On my ship. You'll be safe there. And as for your offer... we'll talk. But first, you need to understand what you're getting into. Being with me means being with the Whitebeard Pirates. Are you ready for that?"

He saw the immediate, unwavering nod and decided to test your resolve, a rare, teasing glint in his eyes. "Can you handle Pops laughing at everything? Marco and Ace fighting over the stupidest things? The drama from Thatch if you say his food is 'good' instead of 'life-changing'? And you have to compliment Vista's mustache. Every day. It's a rule."

He watched your reaction, expecting at least a flicker of hesitation. Instead, a brilliant smile broke out on your face.

"Yes," you said without a moment's doubt. "All of it. It sounds wonderful. It sounds like a family."

It's such a beautiful idea, I just don't know if I like this version of how I wrote them, I feel like it's ugly, but you decide starlight ✨

𝚈𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝙼𝚊𝚛𝚌𝚘, 𝚅𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚊, 𝙼𝚒𝚑𝚊𝚠𝚔 𝚡 𝚈𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

𝕄𝕒𝕣𝕔𝕠

The scent of salt and iron filled the air as you frantically tried to wipe the blood from your hands onto your trousers. The woman's body was an awkward, dead weight beside the supply crates. You hadn't meant to push her that hard, but her hand had been on his arm, her laughter too shrill, her presence an offense.

"Need a hand with that, yoi?"

Marco's voice was calm, almost clinical, cutting through your panic. You looked up, and your breath caught. He stood there, his usual lazy slouch replaced with a predatory stillness. At his feet lay another body, one of the newer division commanders who'd been a little too friendly with you during lunch. A faint, ethereal blue flame licked around Marco's knuckles, sizzling out as he flexed his fingers.

"She touched you," he stated, his voice dropping to a low rumble that vibrated in your chest. It wasn't a question.

"He was going to give you a stupid poem tomorrow," Marco continued, his eyes never leaving yours. They weren't the eyes of the easygoing first division commander you knew. They were sharp, ancient, and burning with a possessive fire that made your stomach clench. "I couldn't have that."

You swallowed, the fear being replaced by a dark, thrilling warmth. "She was getting too familiar. Kept talking about how a phoenix like you needed a 'mate of equal grace.' It was nauseating."

A slow, sharp grin spread across Marco's face. "Well, we can't have nauseating people on my ship, now can we?" He nudged the man at his feet with his boot. "It's bad for morale."

You let out a shaky laugh, the absurdity of the situation hitting you. "I guess you could say we're both... spring cleaning."

"Spring cleaning?" He chuckled, a deep, dangerous sound. "More like taking out the trash." He walked over, his boots crunching on the gravel, and stopped just before you. He gently took your bloodied hand in his, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. "You know, for someone who pretends to be so delicate, you've got a hell of a shove."

"I learn from the best," you retorted, your voice gaining confidence. "Besides, I couldn't let her think she was the only one who could handle a big, strong chicken."

His eyes glinted with amusement and something deeper. "Is that so? Well, this 'big, strong chicken' is about to teach you a lesson about what happens when you tease him." He leaned in, his voice a whisper against your ear. "But first, let's get our... 'cleaning'... finished."

Working in tandem, you disposed of the evidence with a chilling efficiency. Marco used his flames to reduce any trace of the struggle, and you both tossed the bodies into the deep ocean, the waves swallowing them whole. When you returned, breathless and standing in the cool night air, Marco pulled you against him.

"Now," he murmured, his nose nuzzling your hair. "No more distractions. No more competition. Just us."

You tilted your head up, a playful smile on your lips. "Is that a promise, Marco?"

"It's a fact," he growled, before his lips claimed yours. The kiss was deep and possessive.

𝕍𝕚𝕤𝕥𝕒

The galley was eerily silent, save for your ragged breathing. The knife clattered to the floor, its blade stained. You stared at the woman, a fellow crew member who had been relentlessly pursuing Vista, her ambition as transparent as it was irritating. You'd only meant to confront her, to warn her off, but she'd laughed, called you a lovesick child, and lunged. The rest was a blur.

"My, my. What a mess we've made."

Vista's voice, smooth as aged wine, slid through the tension. He stood in the doorway, impeccably dressed save for the dark crimson dripping from the tip of his elegant suit. He stepped inside, and you saw the second body slumped just outside the galley door—one of the ship's cooks who had been writing you overly poetic letters.

"I believe he was planning to serenade you beneath the moonlight tonight," Vista said with a theatrical sigh, cleaning his blade with a pristine white handkerchief that he then casually discarded. "A tragic end for a would-be bard."

Your heart hammered against your ribs, but you met his gaze steadily. "She wouldn't take a hint. She said I was... in the way."

"In the way?" Vista's mustache twitched with a mixture of amusement and something far more dangerous. He sheathed his rapier with a soft click and approached you. "My dear, you are not 'in the way.' You are the way. The only way." He gestured to the body at your feet. "Though I must admit, this is rather... crude. A kitchen knife? Really, my love, where's your flair?"

"I was improvising," you shot back, a fire lighting in your chest. "It's not like I planned this."

"Perhaps not," he conceded, his tone softening as he gently took your arm. "But a beautiful lady should never have to dirty her hands with such... uninspired work. Leave the messy parts to me." With surprising strength, he easily lifted the woman's body. "The cold storage will do nicely. A bit cliché, I admit, but effective."

You helped him with the other body, and together you secured them in the meat locker, the heavy lock clicking into place with a sense of finality. Vista turned to you, his expression one of profound fondness. He took out a clean handkerchief and meticulously wiped a smear of blood from your cheek.

"There," he murmured, his voice a low caress. "Perfect again." He held your face in his hands, his thumbs stroking your skin. "You know, I always knew there was a fire in you. A passion to match my own."

"I just don't like to share," you whispered, your voice thick with emotion.

"Nor should you ever have to," Vista promised, his eyes filled with a dark, romantic devotion. He leaned in and pressed his lips to yours. The kiss was slow and deep. It was the kiss of a man who had finally found his queen, bloodstained and beautiful, and would never let her go.

𝕄𝕚𝕙𝕒𝕨𝕜

The roses in Kuraigana's garden seemed to mock you with their vibrant red as you knelt beside the body of the noblewoman. Her blood was seeping into the dark soil, a stark, ugly stain. She had been a guest, an annoyance who prattled on about alliances and how her family would be the perfect match for the world's greatest swordsman. She had dared to touch the sleeve of his coat as you passed. The garden shears in your hand had felt so right in that moment.

"Your technique is sloppy."

Mihawk's voice was a blade itself, cutting through the night. You didn't startle. You simply looked up, your gaze meeting his golden eyes from across the garden. He stood with Yoru resting on his shoulder, looking like a grim reaper in the moonlight. At his feet lay the body of the woman's escort, a man who had been making plans to court you.

"He was planning to approach you in the morning," Mihawk stated, his tone devoid of all emotion. "His intentions were dishonorable. I rectified the situation."

You rose slowly, your hand still gripping the shears. "She was talking about marriage. As if you were a prize to be won in some political game."

Mihawk's lips curved into a thin, humorless smile. "A common mistake. People see the teasing, not the man." He began walking toward you, his steps silent on the grass. "But you... you see the man. And you were willing to defend your claim. I find that... acceptable."

"Acceptable?" you challenged, a spark of defiance in your eyes. "I killed her for you."

"No," he corrected, stopping before you. He was so close you could feel the chill emanating from him. "You killed for yourself. For what you desire. That is a crucial distinction." His gaze dropped to your bloodied hands. "However, your methods lack finesse. Garden shears? It's barbaric."

"It was what was available," you said defensively.

He reached out and took the shears from your hand, placing them carefully on a stone bench. "Then next time, you will use what is proper." He gently took your hand, his fingers cool against your skin. He raised it to his lips, but instead of a kiss, his tongue darted out, slowly and deliberately licking the blood from your fingers. The sensation was electric, a jolt of pure, unadulterated possession.

"You see?" he murmured, his golden eyes burning into yours. "No waste. No mess. Just... a taste of your love."

Your breath hitched. "Mihawk..."

"Together, we are a perfect balance," he continued, his voice a hypnotic purr. "Your passion, my precision. Your fire, my steel." He released your hand only to cup your face, his thumb tracing your jawline. "There will be no more talk of suitors for either of us. There is only us."

Ofc starlight ✨, enjoy :)

𝙹𝚘𝚣𝚞 𝚡 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛: 𝚜𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚜

The cacophony of Marineford was a physical assault. Every cannon blast was a punch to the chest, every scream a knife to the gut. You moved through it like a phantom, your white coat a target you no longer cared about. Your orders were meaningless. Your duty was a ghost. The only thing that was real was the magnetic pull drawing you across the battlefield to him.

Jozu stood like a monument, his diamond skin deflecting a hail of bullets as if they were rain. You broke into a dead run, not caring who saw. When you skidded to a halt before him, his head snapped down, his eyes widening in disbelief.

"You," he rumbled, the word a mix of shock and challenge. "The Vice Admiral. What do you want?"

You didn't waste a second on pleasantries. You grabbed his massive, diamond-armored hand, the cool surface a stark contrast to the fire in your veins. "You have to listen to me," you panted, pressing the small key into his palm. "It's for Ace. It's a marine override for the Seastone handcuffs. It will work."

He closed his hand around the key, his gaze intense and searching. "Why are you doing this? This is treason."

"Treason?" you let out a harsh, humorless laugh that was swallowed by a nearby explosion. "Jozu, I've been committing treason every single day since I learned who you were to me. This is just the first time I've done it where anyone can see."

His expression softened, the hard lines of his face easing. "You knew? All this time?"

"Of course I knew!" The words burst out of you, a torrent of years of suppressed emotion. "I feel it every time you're hurt. I've seen your ship in my dreams. I know what your laugh sounds like without ever hearing it. Do you have any idea what that's like? To be connected to the enemy? To wake up wishing you were on a pirate ship instead of serving justice?"

He was silent for a moment, his thumb stroking the back of your hand. "I feel it too," he admitted, his voice low and rough. "The strength in you. The conflict. I always thought it was just... wishful thinking."

"It's not," you said, your voice cracking. "It's real. And it's why I'm here. They're going to kill him, Jozu. Sengoku isn't going to wait. He's going to give the order any minute to end this. You have to move now."

"How can I trust this isn't a trap?" he asked, though his tone was no longer accusatory, just desperate.

"Because look at me!" you cried, gesturing wildly at your pristine marine coat. "I am throwing away my entire life for this! My career, my honor, my safety... it's all worth nothing if it means watching your world shatter. I am not asking you to trust the Marines. I am begging you to trust me."

He stared at you, and in his eyes, you saw the last of his walls crumble. He saw not a Vice Admiral, but the woman who was his other half.

"Okay," he said, his voice firm with resolve. "Okay. We'll move."

A wave of relief so powerful it almost buckled your knees washed over you. "Thank you."

"Don't thank me yet," he said, his grip on your hand tightening almost to the point of pain. "What about you? When this is over, what happens to you?"

"I don't know," you whispered, the terrifying reality of your actions crashing down. "I'll probably be court-martialed. Or worse."

"No," he said, his voice leaving no room for argument. "You won't. When we get Ace out of here, I'm coming for you. I will burn this entire plaza to the ground before I let them take you. Do you understand me? You are not a sacrifice. You are my priority."

Tears streamed freely down your face now. "Jozu..."

"Go," he ordered gently, releasing your hand. "Go back to your post. Act like nothing happened. But know this—I'm not just fighting for my friend today. I'm fighting for my future. And you're it."

Jozu, the soft cuddly teddy bear man you are!😊💎💎💎❤️❤️