#reader x thatch

Thatch: “It does! It does look itchy, looks like it could use a good scratchin’,” his lips pull back into a mischievous grin that put his hungry canines on full display, “I could scratch it for you ya know~ what're ol pals for? You know I’m really good with these nails~” he doesn’t miss the way your body gets full on shivers and sees you hiccup.

You: “Th-Thatch-no. I-I’m seri-” you stutter through your teeth feeling your fight and flight kick in, but right now, your hands were clamped to your arms and you got a good 2 feet between you and him before you book it.

Thatch: “Yyyeah yeah you’re ‘serious’ right now, but I’m tellin ya!!” his hand is now flat like a spatula as he waves it to you for dramatic effect “THAT cute belly right there!” he waves it again “is lookin’ to get a good scra-ohhh that’s not nice-GET BACK HERE!!”

You blew a raspberry at him as soon as he called your belly cute and booked it down the hall screaming your lungs out.

You: “Ahhh!!! NO THATCH!! FUCK MAN!!” you use all the strength your very-much-shorter-than-Thatch’s-legs-legs got and try to reach your cabin to lock the door behind you.

Your shorter legs only grant you about 5 seconds before your feet leave the ground and he tosses you over his shoulder to take you away to his room instead. He lays your wiggly thrashing body onto his bed where he decides to rest his upper half across your upper half to keep your arms from protecting yourself. From your upper chest and up you’re under his armpit basically giving him full access to your lower half. You can kick and buck all you want but you’re not going anywhere unless you can suddenly lift 300+ pounds off you. He’s being careful not to crush you of course and cut your air supply.

He lets out a satisfied whistle and uses his fingers to gently and lightly roll your shirt up knowing that at this point even the movement of the fabric of your own shirt makes you squeak and gasp. He’s biting his lip from how hard he’s smiling and makes sure that some fingers drag across your bared skin to add to the torment.

Thatch: “Alllrighty! Niiice and bare nowww” he cracks his knuckles and looks over his shoulder to look at your screaming and begging face with a sweet smile that makes his scar wrinkle “ready to be put out of your itchy misery, cutie?” he can’t help but chuckle. Of course you’re ready.

He doesn’t wait for your response and turns back to dig his thick, strong and dexterous fingers into the soft flesh of your belly giving the sweet area a good wriggling to see your skin ripple. He laughs when you shriek and lets his fingers spider to the sides of your stomach making your shriek dissolve into syrupy sweet giggles that you can’t suppress and feel your face burn.

Me: “AHHH-OHHOHOMYGODSSAHHHTHATCH HAHAHA-!!” you try to gain leverage by planting your feet onto the mattress and press up but that only makes you push your stomach closer to him and he gives you a couple hard raspberries.

He splays his hands under the arch of your back keeping you nice and elevated for a couple more seconds against your will while he mouths and nibbles at your belly and sides, then lets you flop down. He leans forward and nuzzles his lips near your hip bones making you laugh so hard you’re nearly breathless, you pound at his back and try pulling his hair but he’s a fucking mountain compared to you.

Thatch: “Mmmm….I hear gnawing is a good alternative to scratching with hands, let’s try it out. You tell me.” He nibbles and bites at your hip bones now and trails his mouth to your ribs to nibble at the tender bones there too.

The whole entire trail was agonizing because his goatee tickled like hell too, especially since it was a new added texture to the mix. Thatch notices the sudden jump in reaction and noise level and moves just a smidge up to nuzzle his goatee into on of your armpits and can’t help the giddy smile he gets when he hears your laugh go silent and sees your belly bounce and tense. He nuzzles from there and back down to your ribs enjoying your adorable noises.

You: “YOU’RE NOT EVEN-!!! YOU’RE NOT EVEN SCRATCHING MY-” you can’t get a full sentence out because of how badly he’s tickling you. You try curling up by lifting your knees to your chest but that was a mistake because he latches onto your knees and massages the tender muscles surrounding them and nearly makes you piss yourself, so you were grateful he let you go.

Thatch: “I know I’m not! I’m just being nice and getting all the other itchy spots, aren’t I so nice?” he fastens himself down a little more “what do we sayyyy?” he reaches over starts to lightly pinch and grab at the soft flesh of your mons pubis. He switches from soft pinches there to deep digging and wriggling into the tendons of your groin. He knows this is what usually makes you tap out.

The fact you can’t see what he’s doing exactly drives you mad. You can’t stand any more of this, you’re certain you’ll lose your mind if he goes on any longer. You scream his name through laughing tears and feel the ticklish sensation radiate out to every nerve nearby, no matter how hard you kick and try twisting your hips to the sides his hands were glued to where he wanted them.

You know what he wants but your stubborn spirit refuses to give him what he wants. First, he interrupts your very serious conversation. Second, he threatens you with this ridiculously humiliating distraction. Third, he’s playing so fucking dirty by using that move on you. He expects you to give in and tell him what he wants to hear???

No. Way.

Nuh-uh.

That was the idea until he shoots his hand under your sweats and chonis and continues to tickle you there until he gets what he wants. Which was in about 3…2…1-

You: “THANKYOUTHANKYOUTHANKYOU AHHHAHAHA THAHATCHH HAHAHA PLEASE MERCEEHEEHEEEE” You laugh your little heart out and kick for a couple more eternity-long seconds.

He stops his torture and gets off you and coos when he sees your tired sweaty smiley face.

Thatch: “You look so cute like this <3” he can’t help but clasp his hands together and press them against his chin when he says that and then wipes your sweat and hair away from your face. He leans down and smooches your left-over tears away then lets his hot breath give your ear a soft tickle “still Itchy?”

You know better than to give him a side eye. He’s gone back to full attack mode before when you show him sass after he’s asked you a question like that.

You: “N….no….not itchy no more…” you swallow in deep breaths and let your eyes shut then suddenly let out a heavy yawn and feel your body melt into goo. A good session like this always zaps your energy, but it also always gives you the best naps.

Thatch smiles warmly at the cute site and pulls your clothes off to leave you in nothing but your chonis that he’ll probably steal later, and rests you against his bare chest after he’s stripped himself of his clothes so he’s in nothing but his boxer briefs. He lays the blanket over the both of you and rakes his fingers against your scalp until you both knock out for a much needed nap.

“It’s not for me!”

“Then for who?” he called, sliding a cocktail to Marco, who gave him a nod in silent thanks. 

“It’s for a bird!” 

“I thought I told ya to stop feedin’ them seagulls. You keep feedin’ ’em, and they keep comin’ and asking for more,” he admonished softly.

“But it’s not for the seagulls. It’s for the pretty blue chicken!” they exclaimed, head snapping to the side as Marco began choking on his drink.

“That’s Gross, Marco,” they whined, sticking out their tongue and crunching their face.

“Hey, hey, ignore ’em; go back to the bird bit,” Thatch called, crouching down to their height and ignoring the scathing glare said bird sent his way amid his choking.

“It’s a bigggg blue fire chicken!” they started as they extended their hands as far as they could go.

“They have funny glasses and a small orange fire hat! They also have the longest tail, which looks so pretty when they fly.” they swoon.

“Well, I’ll be; that sounds like a mighty fancy chicken,” he drawled, standing up.

“But ya know what? I think I might know what a chicken like that might be like betta than some ol’ bread,” he told them. He began browsing through his fridge. 

“Really?!” they beamed, hopping next to the man as they tried to take a peek at what he was digging out.

“Really! In fact, the Pretty Chiken’ told me he’s waiting for you and this treat on the upper crow nest.

“Waiting?” they awed, watching as he pulled out a small container from the fridge with a grin, crouching in front of the child and extending it to them

“Pineapple?” they asked suspiciously, glancing up at the chef.

“It might surprise ya, but he said this was his very favorite food.” 

“in the whole world?” they asked, grabbing the container.

“In the whole world,” he confirmed

“Okay! Thank you, Atch!” they yelled, placing a small, sloppy kiss on his cheek as they ran off turning at the angry stomping that sounded behind him.

“Thatch you-

“Ah.Ah. This mighty blue chicken might want to hurry up, or he will break a three-year-old’s heart,” he tutted with a cocky grin as Marco paused in his approach; thinking his words over, he let out a groan.

“I’m going to get you back for this-yoi, Thatch,” he growled, backstepping out of the kitchen. 

“Bye Bye, blue chicken.”

-

“Marco? What are you doing here?” Dokucha questioned, confused, looking up at the man who joined them in the crow’s nest

“How did you get up here?” they asked, standing on their tippy toes to look down the crow’s nest, wondering how the man had made all their way up there without being seen.

“I’m here to meet the blue chicken, so choo!” they ordered as they lowered themselves down, turning to him and waving him off.

“Oi...” he called, a tight smile on his face at both the erroneous nickname and the audacity the kid had

“You’re looking at him.”

“Hah?”

“I'm the bluebird Dokucha,” he clarified

“Blue chicken! It’s a blue chicken, and there’s no way you're the chicken!”

“You’re right. I’m not a chicken; I’m a phoenix,” he grumbled, holding the bridge of his nose.

“Liar”

“Dokucha, My epithet is Marco the Phoenix. Why do you think they call me that if not because I’m a phoenix?”

“Cause your kind strong, I guess...”

“Y-you guess?!. You know what, never mind, that's a fight for another day,” he called, crouching down in front of them and allowing the blue flames to envelope him

“AH! No way! There’s no way you can be the pretty bird!” they cried. They didn’t hate Marco; in fact, they quite liked their brother, but he was far from being their favorite sibling, often catching him at the worst times, leading the child to view the commander as less than graceful. Something that they left pretty clear in their interactions.

“Hmm, guess I won’t show you then,” he teased as he pulled the flames back into him, letting an exaggerated sigh as he stood up and made to leave the nest.

“No! I want to see! I want to see!” they whined, jumping up and down.

“I don’t know, you were being kind of rude to me all day,” he mused

“But I want to see it! I even brought you pineapple, see?!” they begged, lifting the small container of fruit towards the man who gave them a once over and stopped his actions, pretending to think the offer over.

“I’ll show you, but you have to apologize for not believing me and admit you were wrong about me.”

“No way!”

“Guess you won’t be seeing the blue bird anymore then,” he called, jumping on the railing and stopping as Dokucha ran behind him and took hold of his shirt

“Yes?”

..rry..ong” they mumbled.

Grinning, Marco turned around and sat on the railing, leaning his arms on his knees, his chin on his hand, and watching the child stumble over their words.

“Sorry, You’re gonna have to speak up if you want me to hear you.”

“I’m sorry for not believing you! I was wrong!..so let me see the bluebird?Please?” They called, starting with a loud yell of their words, eventually quieting down as they began fidgeting. Letting out a small confused whine as the doctor ruffled their head, letting out a gasp as he began transforming into the phoenix, blue flames shooting around them, slowly taking the form of the mythical bird.

Ngl I was going to leave it until Marco left the kitchen but I thought of that lil scene between them

Taglist:

@Imaginarydreams

@amethystviolin

@h0n3y-l3m0n05

@hannahbarberra162

“She was harmed under our care, she needed time to recuperate,” Pops continued.

“But chemotherapy doesn’t work like that, I can’t just suddenly -” Marco tried to interrupt and throw his weight as the doctor on the crew. Whitebeard stopped him with a glance. 

“I’ve lived a long time, Marco. One day would not have mattered,” was all Whitebeard had to say in order for Marco to hang his head. The quiet across the deck was louder than any argument could ever be. Holding himself high once more, Marco looked his Captain in the eye.

“But I… - of course. I’ll…make amends,” Marco replied. Thatch wondered how he would do so given the tension that radiated from you any time Marco came near. Thatch had to spend the majority of his time in the infirmary that afternoon calming and soothing you after Marco had chased you down in the kitchens. Thatch had heard Marco apologize many times but he wasn’t sure he’d ever heard it after Marco had fucked up. Maybe it would be good for the doctor to be humbled slightly, maybe you’d get better treatment from Marco or at least be allowed to live a little more. Thatch finished clearing Pop’s dishes and left to bring them back to the galley. He wanted to be in the room when Marco sought you out to make sure the interaction went as smoothly as possible.

Marco POV

Marco shifted into his Phoenix form as he took his leave from Pops and launched himself into the air, soaring high above the ship. He wanted a few moments of privacy to gather himself before he went to go find you. He needed to center and control his emotions before he talked to you lest he make the relationship between you worse. Which…he wasn’t sure was possible right now. When you told him how you fucking hated him and your facial expression held more emotion during that declaration than he’d seen in weeks. 

Marco had tried to empathize with you as best he could but he never got very far. His devotion to Whitebeard was so strong, he’d do anything to make his Captain’s health improve. He already had by betraying his oath to do no harm and keeping you aboard the ship. Marco would gladly have traded six hours of his day for Whitebeard, it wasn’t like you were working hard. All you had to do was sit in a chair with your arm on an arm rest and relax. And yes, he knew that you missed your family and friends but it wasn’t like he had murdered you. You’d eventually make your way back to them - Marco knew that even with his assistance Whitebeard was mortal and would eventually pass away. It was a temporary adventure in your life, and frankly, most people would go gaga for the opportunity to sail with Whitebeard. You could be having the time of your life but you chose to spend it moping about the ship. 

What really ruffled Marco’s feathers was everyone was acting like he was the villain, like Marco was the one who was responsible for your torment and despair. Yes, it had been his plan, but everyone commented on how well Pops has been doing, how healthy he looked, how lively Pops was lately. It didn’t go unnoticed by the crew how vigorously Pops crushed Teach’s lifeless body once the traitor had finally been defeated. Everyone was pleased with the outcome but they didn’t want to get their own hands dirty by taking care of you.  It was easy to accuse Marco of being unsympathetic and cold but no one was helping you escape, were they? Everyone wanted you to remain and to use your blood but they didn’t want to have to feel bad about it. Marco shook his head trying to clear the negative thoughts. He needed to figure out some way to apologize for making you give blood without causing further deterioration to your relationship. He lazily tightened the circles he was flying in and flew down to land on the deck. He went below deck after shifting back into his human form, finally ready to speak to you. He had to remain sensitive, this was probably the first time you’d had a near death experience. Even before he ate his Devil Fruit, being a pirate came with a certain level of risk. Marco was used to the danger of the high seas but that would be foreign to you as a civilian. Keeping that in mind, Marco headed towards Thatch’s cabin where he assumed you were. You’d hardly left the Commander’s side since Teach had tried to murder you, likely in an attempt to make yourself feel more secure. Listening from outside the cabin, he heard Thatch speaking to you in his deep voice and you responding occasionally to his questions. 

Your POV

There was no other way to say it - you were hiding in Thatch’s room after your time in the infirmary. You felt completely depleted in mind, body, and spirit as you looked through the assorted books Thatch had in his room. Turned out he liked poetry and once upon a time you had too. But since you’d been brought on the ship your interest had dwindled. You ran your finger down the spine of a familiar book, a popular volume of romantic poems. At some point you thought all you ever wanted out of life was someone to care for you and love you like the people in the poems but it turned out you craved more important things -  like freedom and autonomy. Even so, you plucked the slim book off the shelf and turned it over in your hands, opening it to the bookmarked spot Thatch had left. 

A knock at the door had you whimpering in distress. You were never so jumpy before coming on the ship but now you startled at the tiniest noise. The door opened to reveal a concerned looking Thatch on the other side. Your cheeks heated as the chef came closer to check on you again. Thatch had been practically babysitting you since the events of the previous day and you felt awful for taking up so much of his precious time. You didn’t want to be a burden on the one person who seemed to care how you were feeling and maybe gave a shit about you.

“How ya doin’ Baby Pie?” Thatch asked, approaching you slowly. You tried to put on a cheery front so he didn’t come home to a dour loser every time he wanted to rest in his room.

“I’m good. I’m just, um, relaxing. I’m gonna go though, sorry. You can have your room back, I’m sure you want some alone time,” you said apologetically, closing the book and moving to replace it on the shelf near the couch before you left.

“I don’t want alone time, I came to see you. And you’re welcome to stay here as long as you’d like. You don’t have to go back to that other room,” Thatch said quietly. You hadn’t actually thought about where you’d go if Thatch wanted his room back. The thought of going back to the room where you nearly died wasn’t in the realm of possibility for you. Maybe you could find a room in the infirmary that was far from the phlebotomy room? But Marco wouldn’t go for that, you didn’t even have to ask. Beds were scarce and needed to injured crew, not frightened civilians.

“What’re you thinkin’ about Porkchop?” Thatch asked, plopping down on the small couch in his cabin. He held out his arms and spread his legs, a silent call for you to come sit on his lap. It felt childish to constantly seek out touch but you feet were propelling themselves towards the chef anyway. As you neared he scooped you up and placed you in his lap, wrapping his warm arms around you. You leaned into him, even the smell of oil imbued his chef’s coat not ruining your moment. 

“Porkchop?” you asked lightly, nuzzling into him. You felt  there was something building between the two of you but you didn’t want to address it right now. You were a little vulnerable and wanted some leeway in case your growing feelings weren’t reciprocated. You’d live in delusion land for just a bit longer before you brought yourself back to reality and talked to Thatch about your crush. 

“Mm. Guess that wasn’t one of my better ones, eh? You can go back to being Sugar,” Thatch teased, squishing you between his muscled arms. He gently took the book from your hands, turning it over so the cover was showing. “You like poetry?” he asked softly, the fingers of his other hand drawing circles on your thigh.

“Yeah, guess so,” you answered, eyes already closing. You hadn’t been able to truly rest without Thatch around, feeling too unsafe and anxious to fall asleep. Eventually you would have to get over it and be an adult again but the chef was too comforting for your own good. A knock at the door had you stiffening up immediately. Thatch’s arms tightened around you as he beckoned to whoever was behind the door. You bristled as you saw Marco pushing in the door, his face sour like he’d eaten a crate of lemons. If Thatch wasn’t there you would have tried to take your chances by running again but you knew there was no way that you’d be able to escape the two of them together. But maybe Marco wasn’t there to talk to you, maybe he needed more from you, more time in the phlebotomy room, more blood coming out of your arm -

“I did six hours! I promise! I can’t - please -” you went straight to begging, trying to push Thatch’s arms off of you.

“No no. It’s not that yoi. You did fine today. I came to apologize to you,” Marco stated plainly. You didn’t respond, unsure what Marco was playing at. He’d never apologized to you before, why was he starting now? Sure he made you give blood the day after you were almost murdered but that was practically par for the course. You knew he didn’t feel bad about kidnapping you or using you but you were curious what he would say.

“I’m going to give the two of you privacy but I won’t be far,” Thatch said, taking you off his lap and placing you on the small couch. You made a small sound of protest and looked up at him with doleful eyes. You didn’t want to be left alone with Marco, especially not after you told him off not too long prior. Marco didn’t seem to take anything you said too personally but you also hadn’t told him to fuck off before either. After Thatch left the room it became awkward and quiet as you waited for Marco to continue his thought. Marco came inside and shut the door, leaving just the sound of the waves against the sides of the ship.

“I came to apologize for making you donate -”

“Give,” you corrected Marco. You’d never been so bold before but maybe almost dying would do that to a person.

“Pardon?” Marco asked, now crossing his arms and leaning against the wall.

“I don’t donate my blood. You take it,” you replied. You wished that your voice had held out for the whole sentence - you squeaked out the end. Marco bristled and you scooted backwards, putting more distance between the two of you. 

“Yes, I suppose that's true yoi,” Marco conceded as he set his jaw. You regretted saying anything - if Marco was in the mood to play nice you shouldn't have spoiled it. Marco closed his eyes briefly and took a deep breath before he continued, crossing his arms and drumming his fingers along his bicep, as if this entire conversation was irritating him. 

“As I was saying, I am sorry for taking your blood today. I should have listened to you and let you rest. As a doctor, I know the importance of mental health as it affects the body and it was an oversight in my error to not let you recover yoi. You can have tomorrow off even though it does affect Whitebeard’s chemotherapy schedule,” Marco finished waving his hand in your direction. He paused as if he was waiting for something. 

“Thank you,” you gritted out through your teeth. Marco didn’t seem to notice your tone but did give you a curt nod as if he was expecting your thanks, like he was granting you a huge favor for not forcibly taking your blood for one single fucking day. You wanted to roll your eyes and kick him out but it wasn’t your room in the first place. 

“I hope you understand how much this affects everyone else yoi,” Marco said coldly. You wanted to retort back that being nearly murdered affected you badly when the door creaked open again.

“Marco, your apology sucks,” Thatch said, folding his arms across his chest. Marco bristled but didn’t say anything further. “No man, come on. Say something real,” Thatch prodded Marco as he blocked the door with his wide frame and tacitly prevented Marco from leaving. Marco looked at his brother, shifting his weight onto one foot. He exhaled and walked over, sitting down near you on the couch. You’d been near Marco many many times but never in a casual setting like this. You almost gave him your arm out of reflex but were able to stifle the impulse at the last moment. Marco considered you with his blue eyes, like he was really seeing you as a person for the first time. He put his hands on his knees and began speaking to you softly.

“I am sorry you were almost killed. I truly am. That shouldn’t have happened and you’re not used to anything remotely like that. I’m not going to say I understand because I don’t and I can’t imagine how terrified you must have been yoi. I know you didn’t choose to be here with us and that you’d rather be home. I know. So for what it’s worth, I am sorry that you almost died. It wasn’t your fault and I’m not sure how much my promise to keep you safe is worth anymore yoi.” Marco gazed at you intensely while he spoke. You didn’t know where to look so you kept your eyes trained on your lap. Marco continued in the same calm tone.

“That being said, no, I’m not sorry for what I did today. You’re not the most important person on the ship. I’m not the most important person on the ship - it has always been and will always be Whitebeard. So yes, you get tomorrow off to recover but after that you have to go back yoi. None of us have a choice. I wish things were different, that I could drop you off on the next island, but life isn’t that simple. There’s a lot hanging in the balance, a lot more than you know. There are so many people, islands, territories that need Whitebeard’s protection. Even though you don’t want to be here, you play an important role in the fate of the world and I can’t let you go. Not yet. Can you understand that? Or at least try?”

You blinked rapidly at Marco’s statements, this the most raw emotion you’d ever heard from Marco since you’d met him. He always kept his true feelings guarded, crafting each sentence carefully to construct a meaning that didn’t necessarily match his own opinions. You preferred this real Marco to the palatable version he presented to you - at least you knew where you stood now. You looked at him as he waited for you to respond, his half lidded eyes still studying you.

“O-okay. I understand,” you said quietly, turning over Marco’s words in your mind. Thatch stood up and moved in the room giving Marco space to leave. Marco nodded at you and left, shutting the door quietly behind him. You exhaled a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding and looked over at a gently smiling Thatch.

“Seems like we have a day to plan,” he said, clapping his hands together. 

“Oh, uh, I didn’t think - you still have to work though, right? It’s just me, I wasn’t expecting -” Thatch crossed the room and sat back down right next to you on the couch. Reaching onto the bookshelf he pulled off a large thesaurus and opened it, revealing a bottle of rum hidden inside. Uncorking it, he took a swig and offered it to you as well. You must have looked surprised because Thatch furrowed his brow in mock confusion.

“What? It’s the least likely book for anyone to pick up. They’d have to first use the dictionary to find out what a thesaurus is. Anyway I got good crew under me, they can handle everything for a day. We’re celebrating starting tonight, take a sip,” he said, pushing the bottle into your hands. You hadn’t had alcohol since Marco had banned you after catching you drinking three beers. The hard liquor burned your throat as it went down, warming you all the way. 

“What’re we celebrating?” you asked, genuinely curious.

“You,” he said, laying a muscled arm across your back, his hand hooking around your upper arm. He pulled you into his own body, your head now leaning against his own shoulder. You snorted but didn’t object as you handed back the bottle to Thatch.

A few hours later you stumbled out of Thatch’s room. You really didn’t have all that much to drink but your tolerance was low from abstaining for so long. You wanted to catch a shower in the women’s bathroom before you went to bed - you hadn’t had a proper one since before the…event.  Walking down the now dark hallway towards the women’s quarters, you heard a conversation in progress. You thought you heard your name so you waited before turning the corner, curious to hear what the crew was saying about you.

“Tough break for that Bloodbag, eh?” you heard someone say around the corner. They called you -  Bloodbag…? Is that what everyone referred to you as when you weren’t around? You waited where you were, you wanted to eavesdrop on the rest of the conversation even though you were already on the verge of tears. 

“Yeah, I mean who knew Teach had it in him? Not the killing, killing her would be easy. I’m saying the betrayal part -”

“I know, to hurt your own crew -”

“Well, she’s not crew exactly, she’s more like -”

“Like Marco’s pet, or medicine for Pops or whatever. Still would suck to be murdered by Teach though. Nasty bastard had to be put down by Captain himself. But yeah, I get you, it’s like stabbing Pops yourself. Good thing she lived,” someone continued.

“Yeah, then we would have had to find another Bloodbag. It took so long to find that one in the first place, we’d have to start all over again…” the second man trailed off as their voices and footsteps receded while they walked down the hall towards the infirmary. 

Oh.

Your mind went blank as you processed what you heard, standing in the hallway unmoving for a few moments. Being tipsy didn’t help as you replayed their words in your mind over and over. You began to move robotically towards the bathrooms again, gripping your towel tightly in your hands. You didn’t really know how to feel at that moment - in some ways you were happy that the bandage had been ripped off your wound. You always suspected that the crew didn’t care about you and this had confirmed it. At least these two were being honest as opposed to Marco and Thatch and Whitebeard or anyone else who was kind of nice to you. 

You spaced out for some time while your body continued to move. Your brain was consumed with going over the overheard conversation and you later found yourself in the women’s bathrooms. You were sitting in the communal bath, staring at the tiled floor wringing a washcloth between your hands. Your fingers, toes and palms were wrinkly, clueing you to the fact that you’d been in there for a while and the soreness in your fingers meant you’d been wringing the cloth for a while. None of that really mattered though. Even though the water was now cool you remained in the bath, sinking down to your neck. A firm knock resounded on the door, breaking you from your trance and making the water slosh as you sat up quickly.

“Who - who is it?” you called out. Any of the nurses wouldn’t have knocked and you guessed a killer would have just come right in.  

“It’s Marco,” a familiar but muffled voice said through the thick wood. Drying yourself in a towel and covering your body in a fluffy robe, you padded towards the door. Cracking it open you saw it was indeed Marco and you pushed it open more widely.

“S-sorry, was I in here too long?” you asked, tucking your wet hair behind your ear.

“Yes, and now you’re cold but that’s not why I’m here yoi. I think we both overheard a conversation earlier that wasn’t ideal,” he said, his earlier casualness forgotten.

“You mean the bloodbag thing? I mean it wasn’t great but -” you started, minimizing your feelings. Maybe you’d journal or something later but now that you knew how things really were you didn’t feel like pouring your heart out to Marco again.

“It wasn’t appropriate and those involved are being punished -”

“Not appropriate? I - you're gonna try and deny it? Gonna try and tell me I'm anything else? I don’t care and I don’t have the energy for this. Thanks for the day off tomorrow, I’ll see you the day after," you said, shrugging your shoulders. You sidled past Marco, walking out of the bathroom. Marco extended his arm but retracted his hand, letting you pass without further incident.

You didn't know where to go now that you were tired and ready for bed - in your foolish heart you wanted to go back to Thatch’s room. But after that blood bag conversation you weren't sure if he actually enjoyed your presence or just spent time with you out of obligation to his captain. It would certainly make sense for Marco and Thatch to work together, you were much more compliant for Thatch than you were for Marco. Maybe they were playing you off one another to get you more amicable to the situation you were in. You passed the turn to Thatch's hall but kept going, avoiding the now familiar room.

It did, however, also come with the realization that those two were currently pretty distracted and for the first time, you weren’t held by a half-naked man, surrounded by pirates, or incapacitated by water. This, you happily noted, was your chance to get out of here and find a place to hide away with your ninja-like skills. A place that was…-

“Did those two boneheads just abandon you like this, kitty?” the voice connected to the two hands that picked you up cooed at you.

Okay, so your perception wasn’t the greatest at the moment. So what?! You’d been through a lot, okay?!

With a deep, deep sigh, you just hung there in those hands that had closed around your ribcage, not even bothering to fight anymore. You were so done with this shit.

1/10 stars. Do not recommend. Service personnel is pretty hot but ultimately fails at its job.

“Shall we finish the job, hm? Maybe by the time we’re done, Marco will have scrubbed that feral little raccoon clean, too,” Thatch murmured and you were taken over to the shower he had just occupied.

And then… with a start… you remembered that he had been in exactly that shower like a moment ago and he’d been utterly naked. You also remembered that you had visually confirmed only minutes ago that he had a fine ass and the rest of his anatomy had also been pretty convincing.

On the one hand, for the sake of your modesty, you should be very concerned with the fact that he was probably still naked and you were about to enter a shower – also fully naked because you didn’t really count fur as clothes – with a man you had met less than an hour ago.

Had he saved your life? Yes.

But still. You were a good girl. (Or at least that’s what you usually told yourself. Most of the time.) You didn’t climb into showers for some naked and very splashy adventures until you were reasonably sure you’d actually end up having a good time.

On the other hand… you twisted in his arms and threw a curious glance down his front, your tail twitching in interest. If the rest of his body was any indication, he’d be…

Awwww. Covered with a towel.

“Miss Kitty, have a seat,” Thatch said and placed you on top of a little stool. You blinked up at him, not fully unsatisfied with the treatment. For one, he was being polite, and additionally, he had basically perched you on a little throne. Yes. Yes. This was acceptable.

Happy to hopefully get rid of the surplus bubbles you generously offered him a paw, somewhat ignoring the fact that you were supposed to be a simply stray cat, and he took it with a chuckle and started to rinse it clean.

“Or should I call you Lady, hm?” he asked and kneeled down next to you, very carefully washing all the remaining shampoo from your fur as you glanced down at him regally.

Admittedly, this didn’t feel too bad, you had your little perch, a pretty damn good-looking guy kneeling in front of you and basically giving you the finisher of a spa treatment…

Maybe you’d actually give them like… 5/10 stars after all.

Within a couple of minutes, you were actually pretty much clean and he turned off the water and stroked you with long, even movements to squeeze the water out of your fur. It felt quite heavenly, to be honest, and you might actually have started to purr a bit again…

Of course, you just couldn’t have nice things, could you?

Because this was when the door banged open – you were pretty sure some tiles cracked at the impact, and a freaking giant entered the room. And not to be dramatic… but he barely fit through that damn door and by your very modest estimate, it was probably four meters high. You started to look up along the legs. And looked up. And up. And.. still up.

When your gaze landed on a bare chest – what the fuck else, this ship apparently suffered from a severe cloth famine – you noticed enough scars to supply a full battalion of soldiers. And as it traveled even further up, you noticed a white captain’s coat slung over wide, wide shoulders. And as it finally reached a face, ducking in below the doorframe, you saw a white beard.

A.

White.

Beard.

You made a gurgling sound as all the air in your lungs suddenly rushed out of your body and you went first stiff, and then hot, and then felt the fur all along your body desperately trying to puff up against the forces of the remaining wetness in your fur.

Oh no. Oh no no no. This was Whitebeard. The legendary Whitebeard. The guy who’d fought the Pirate King and lived to tell the tale.

“I’m hungry,” he said by way of greeting, “and the boys told me to come here.”

The pressure in the room was almost overwhelming and your feral instincts kicked in before a single brain cell could so much as put a word in in favor of reason. He’d eat you. He’d fucking eat you. He was Edward Newgate, the famous Whitebeard. They’d cleaned you up to serve you to their bloodthirsty captain who ate babies and cute kittens for breakfast!

With a battle scream, you exploded out of Thatch’s hands onto the floor and barely managed to land on your feet in your blind panic. In a feat of pure elegance, you somehow tripped over your own tail only one step further, resulting in you face-planting on the floor for about 0.1 seconds, because that was all the time you allowed yourself to waste. Digging your claws into the tiles, you pushed off and actually propelled yourself onto the wall, just below knee height for the giant between you and survival. If you hadn’t been so busy not getting eaten, you’d have complimented your athleticism.

“What the…-,” Thatch managed to say by the time you took the second long leap towards the door.

You’d manage. You were swift. You were like the wind.

“Flight risk!” Ace screamed when you did your third leap and pushed himself off the floor to rush after you. Fate was in your favor. His foot landed on a bar of soap, his eyes widened comically, and his leg was pulled out from under him as he slipped. You’d have appreciated the beauty of it, probably, the arch his body described as his ass went up and his upper body went down and he landed – hard – on first his shoulders and then his head. You heard something crack and faintly hoped it wasn’t his head. It was pretty.

“Not so fast-yoi!” Marco chuckled as he plucked you out of the air in your fourth leap without breaking a sweat, wrapping a towel around you at the same moment. “And here I thought you were getting used to us.”

There was a select choice of words on the tip of your tongue. Among them were several that were connected to a certain part of his anatomy and the places he could shove it. You were not gonna be eaten! You’d scratch their eyes out! You’d carve your name into their faces! You’d fight until your last breath!

You had claws! You were a ferocious tiger, no matter how small! You had the devil’s power…! You… fucking… couldn’t get out of the towel!

“Now, what’s that?” Whitebeard asked, his tone rather surprised than particularly hungry.

“A cat,” Thatch answered helpfully and ambled closer, toweling his hair dry as he walked.

Maybe that was the problem. Maybe you should turn back into your human form to show them that you were not a cat and therefore, should not be eaten. Perhaps you should declare that you were not a virgin, either, just to be absolutely sure that they wouldn’t think you were useable for any sort of ritual or for feeding to the giant or…-

No. No. That was dragons. Dragons ate virgins.

What did giants eat?!

“I can see that,” Whitebeard answered, somewhat exasperated, and ducked lower to get a better look at you while you were fighting to get out of the towel. Your claws sliced through the cloth like a hot knife through butter and yet you just couldn’t get free. You shot a wild look at the giant captain.

You were no more than a snack for him. Surely, you weren’t even worth the effort!

But maybe it was no effort. He’d swallow you whole. Like that famous whale at the start of the Grand Line, that supposedly swallowed ships whole. You fought with renewed ferocity and Marco clicked his tongue at you, fighting to keep you under control.

Ace slowly tried to get up again, clutching his hands to the back of his head. “Ouch.”

He was still alive, then. Good. At least you thought it was good…? Perhaps…? At least you hadn’t gotten any cat-eating vibes from him.

The sounds of fabric ripping below your claws announced how close you were to freedom and Marco cursed under his breath, juggling you from one hand to the other to avoid giving you a chance to latch onto one of his fingers.

“Is anybody going to tell me why there’s a cat?” Whitebeard asked finally, his tone surprisingly even.

“It’s our new cat,” Ace said, rubbing at the back of his head. There were tears in his eyes as he tenderly felt around for the quickly forming bump.

“Our cat?” Whitebeard prompted, slowly sounding less patient.

“Yes,” Ace confirmed. “Spot.”

You sank your teeth into a piece of towel and ripped at it, glaring up at Marco, who reached for a second towel, frowning. “She doesn’t have a single spot-yoi.”

“I see lots of spots,” Ace muttered and blinked slowly. “I knew it all along. The soap almost killed me. Told you it causes more harm than good.”

“Your head is way too hard for that. You’re fine. Also, I think Whiskers is a far better name,” Thatch threw in.

Personally, you thought they were both pretty shit. With a low growl, you twisted in Marco’s hands, managed to graze his index finger with one fang, and then were rolled into a second layer of towel. You didn’t feel entirely unlike a burrito.

Heh. A Purrito.

You were hilarious, even when you were 5 seconds away from being eaten. But you were not about to give them any ideas.

“Would you stop that?” Marco asked you with a sigh. “It’s just Pops-yoi.”

“Fluffy?” Ace suggested and slowly came to his feet. Even upside down and pretty sure something horrible was about to happen you could appreciate that the drops of water glittering on his skin and slowly sliding down his very defined abs made him look fine as hell.

“Killer,” Marco threw in and you glowered, wiggling yourself forward and out of the towel wrapped around you millimeter by millimeter. You were still contemplating the idea of turning back into a human – both to be able to think straight again and to maybe tell them that you wouldn’t stand for such ridiculous names. Ah, and the detail to please not eat you or do something else horrible.

Thatch leaned forward and booped your nose. You snapped your jaws at him but he was too quick for you, you didn’t even manage to nick him. “Catness Everclean,” he happily suggested and you couldn’t help it, you rolled your eyes.

So he read those types of books, huh? Probably also read romance novels and smut. You scoffed.

“Boys…,” Whitebeard said with a tone that you knew pretty well from your father. It was the tone he used when he was down to his last nerves and he was between giving you up for adoption and accepting his hand in making you the person you were. Your ears twitched.

“Can we keep her?” Ace asked, slowly coming closer, one eye squeezed shut and with one hand still at the back of his head.

“I don’t think…-,” Whitebeard started.

“Look how cute she is!” Ace immediately continued and grabbed you out of Marco’s arms. Still covered in one layer of towels, plus a few stripes of the first one. You tried to twist but his grip didn’t give an inch.

His effort was admirable, really, but with only your face visible in the layers of towels, and your eyes almost popping out of your head from the effort of fighting for freedom, you probably looked more deranged than cute.

“We already have a dog,” Whitebeard answered slowly.

You hissed, sounding somewhat suffocated. Probably due to the lack of air in your lungs at this current moment.

“Somehow, she reminds me of Ace-yoi,” Marco muttered, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “Is she trying to kill us? Sure. But in a slightly deranged and yet charming kinda way. You can’t really be mad at her. It’s cute, in a way.”

For that, he got another hiss. Sadly you couldn’t give him the middle finger right now. Which was probably good, you reminded yourself, he was an evil pirate, after all.

“Lady Floofiness,” Ace said as if he had heard nothing. When he tried to kick Marco who stood beside him, the older commander simply moved out of his way. “Once she’s dry, you can see for yourself. She’s really pretty and very, very gentle.”

Okay. You were pretty happy he hadn’t cracked his skull open. He was pretty cute. Plus, he probably wouldn’t let you get eaten. You hoped. At least he was your best shot in this room.

Marco snorted a laugh. “Gentle? She tried to amputate my finger. Again.”

“You held her wrong,” Ace hissed under his breath. “You need to support her…-“

“Butt. I know-yoi,” Marco answered with a shake of his head, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

What was this fascination with your butt?! You had a pretty great one, sure, but in your human form. That you were not about to show them. You had decided so. Perhaps your animal instincts had been a bit overwhelmed by the giant standing at the door, but you slowly lost the fear of somebody wanting to eat you.

Or perhaps you were just going numb. Whichever one.

You squinted up at Whitebeard, who was looking at you with a frown. His beard twitched as he regarded you and you quickly reversed direction and instead of trying to get out of the towel, you buried yourself deeper into it, away from his prying eyes.

“Stefan might not like it,” he finally said.

“He likes Kotatsu just fine,” Ace countered. “And she’s much smaller, won’t take up any space. She can sleep in my cabin.” He started to slowly unwrap you and you grabbed one corner of the towel and tried to hold onto it, suddenly not desiring freedom so much. Freedom meant having no barrier between you and those piercing eyes.

You were still holding onto the towel desperately when two giant fingers grabbed you by the scruff of your neck and picked you up. Gulping, you winced when your body went limb, suddenly unable to do anything but stare at the giant man who had picked you up. He held you in front of his face and you held your breath. This was it. This was the end.

He opened his mouth and you squeezed your eyes shut.

Goodbye, cruel world. I’m leaving you today.

“Stefanie,” he said then and you slowly opened one eye back up.

A brief moment of silence, then Thatch cleared his throat and Marco shuffled his feet, searching for words. Ace was less polite. “That’s a shit name, old man,” he blurted out.

“Fluffy isn’t much better,” Thatch murmured and Ace shot him a glare.

“Says the man who suggested Catness Everclean-yoi.” Marco crossed his arms in front of his chest and shook his head.

“Yeah, and Killer as a name for a teeny tiny fluffy cat clearly wins a prize for creativity,” Thatch shot back.

Marco shrugged. “We can also call her Calamity Jane, seeing as how she made Freckles almost crack his head open, made you bleed for the first time in, what, four years? And has actually managed to nick my skin here.” He lifted a finger with a frown and you could see a tiny drop of blood there for a moment before blue flames engulfed it and it was gone in the next moment.

Thatch, who saw the sparkle in Ace’s eyes, quickly shook his head even as he took a look at his forearms and registered with some surprise that you had indeed managed to scratch him. He dabbed at it with the end of his towel, still shaking his head. “Absolutely not.”

“I think it’s cool,” Ace weighed in and came to stand just below you, holding his arms out expectantly. You curled your tail around yourself and hoped that you’d indeed be handed over again. Ace was the one who held you in the most comfortable way – by far!

To be fair, perhaps you hadn’t given Marco much of a chance with your little panic attack.

But that was hardly your fault. You were in a room with Edward Fucking Newgate, also called Whitebeard. Also having the highest bounty in the whole of the fucking world. You were pretty sure a little panic was justified.

“You just like it because it fits into your little card naming scheme. Ace. Spade Pirates. Spadille. Calamity Jane,” Thatch accused him and when Marco raised an inquisitive eyebrow, he shrugged. “Queen of Spades? Calamity Jane?”

“Oh,” Marco made and rubbed at his chin. “Then no.”

“Hey!” Ace snapped and lifted himself on his tiptoes to reach for you.

You honestly shouldn’t feel so relieved at the guy heartily grabbing your butt, but at least Whitebeard let go of the scruff of your neck and you dropped into Ace’s outstretched hands. Gulping down a shiver – not quite successfully – you were happy when he brought you close to his chest again. Especially since he didn’t seem to mind that you were still wet.

“I haven’t said yes yet,” Whitebeard reminded them with a sigh. “At least I know now why they were all snickering like idiots when they sent me here.”

“You also haven’t said no yet,” Ace reminded him with a grin and started to stroke you with long, calming movements. Eyes unblinking and brain simply overloaded thanks to the last hour, you lay there against his chest and contemplated whether this was karma. Whether perhaps you had stolen one too many times from the rich and given to the poor. Mainly you, actually. But you were poor.

Ugh. You needed a cocktail with lots of rum and a cigarette.

Original art is not mine!

She grinned, doing a swift salto to make her way to even ground and away from the crumbling earth that she had left behind.

Not one to be outdone, Jozu was quick to step up his game, and he once again dug his hands into the ground and began pulling out huge parts of the soil and rocks and hauling them toward the swordswoman.

She let out a smile as she sprinted towards both the diamond man and the incoming barrage, throwing herself on a walkover as she maneuvered her sword in a small spiral in front of her. She watched with satisfaction as it wrapped around a particularly big-sized chunk of earth. Allowing the projectile to propel her off the ground and over the chunk itself, she put both hands on the sword and pulled down; aided by gravity, she watched with satisfaction as it was sent crashing into the ground as she continued sprinting closer to the man.

"That won't work for me, Brother Jozu! You are going to have to come after me yourself if you want to win!" She laughed as she cut the remainder chunks with a simple whip of her sword

"That's the spirit!" He laughed as he covered himself in a diamond armor as he threw himself forward

"What is mah beautiful Wife up to now?" Thatch called as he entered the Kitchen, placing a chaste kiss on the woman as he passed by, smiling as the action was rewarded by a small giggle

"I'm preparing something sweet; the boys are going to be here soon," she announced with a grin on her face.

He hummed, wrapping his hands around her from behind and placing his head on her shoulder.

"Is there any special occasion? It seems to be keeping ya busy as a cat on a hot tin roof," he mumbled.

"Not really; I just thought it would be nice to have a small gathering. The crew parties are great, but it's hard to mingle when there are hundreds."

"That's fair, but I hope ya know Ace is gonna devour those," he teased, looking down at the baked goods that she was preparing.

"I prepared various batches already; there's enough to feed me him and then some," she proudly stated

"Aren't you precious? Ya have everything figured out, don'tcha" placing a kiss on her cheek with a dopey smile on his face.

"I am your wife, after all; did you expect anything less?"

"Alright, lovebirds, knock it off. We're here-yoi," Marco Called, strutting into the Kitchen with Ace and Izou following shortly after him, taking their seats in front of the couple.

"Ah! You're here!" Dokucha squealed excitedly

"Here! Please help yourselves. I made enough for it to fill your bellies, including you, Ace!" she grinned, passing the commanders the various plated goods.

“Thank you, Dokucha!” Ace grinned, digging in.

"Here, Marco, you won't like these," She called, noticing the Jian Dui in front of the man and exchanging it for a plate of sunset cake.

"That one had red bean filling; this one, I believe, is more up your alley; it has pineapple filling!"

"Appreciate it-yoi," he called with a smile.

"Dokucha, Do my eyes deceive me, or is this daifuku?" Izou excitedly called, bringing the dessert closer to him as he examined the colored balls.

"Ah, yes!" You mentioned you were missing Wano's pastries, yes? I tried my hand at some of them! I hope they are to your liking!" she beamed.

"Darling, you are a blessing," Izou called, breaking the dessert in half with a fork and putting the sweet in his mouth, letting out a satisfied sound as the filling melted in his mouth.

"Thatch remind me how she married a barbarian like you?" he questioned with a smile.

"Izou, you looking for a fight, ya bastard?!" Thatch growled

"There, There, dear, he didn't mean it that way."

"Actually, I was wondering too since I joined you guys," Ace cut in

"If I weren't at the wedding, I would have found it hard to believe as well-yoi."

"Oh? Did I really never tell you the story? I would have thought this goofball would have talked your ears off about it already," she questioned

"Never came up," He grumbled, hugging her close.

"We met when Thatch beat up my ex]" she piped up, choking up the men in front of her at the brazen statement

"W-What?" Ace questioned

"Don't say it like that! The bastard had said only a boar or a cow would marry er and I lost it!"

"He said what?!" Izou exclaimed, slamming his utensils down on the table

"Ah, come on guys, calm down. I will tell you the story, but please remember this was in the past, and I am now a very happy woman!" She cried, waving her hands in front of her, trying to calm down the angered men

"Who the hell could say something like that to you, Dokucha!" Ace growled

Marco stayed quiet, but everyone could see the fury behind those half-lidded eyes.

"Ah, well...I come from a small village, you see. I had quite a big family; however, I was the only girl among them, and as such, I had many of my brother's mannerisms...I developed more strength than the other girls in my village due to the constant scuffles I had with them. I had also gotten their appetite; I was and still am quite a voracious eater. That last one is why it comes so easy to me to cater to you, Ace, since, believe it or not, we share the same magic stomach!" she giggled.

"And as you can see, I was also born with pink hair, and in my village, such vibrant colors were unheard of. My ex, who was a potential suitor back then, turned me down because of these traits, so I tried to fix myself," she narrated, ignoring the frowns on the men at her last statement.

"I pretended to be weaker than I was to be seen as more lady-like. I began to eat less to match the other girls' eating behaviors, and I began to dye my hair black," she mumbled.

"It's why my hair was so disastrous when I joined you guys; it had been surviving on box after box of dye. Which is why I appreciate your heavenly help in nursing it back to health," she joked, looking up at Izou.

"After I did, I tried again. I met with him, but he had said that he just couldn't turn a blind eye to these things and left saying those things. Thatch happened to be around the area at the time, and he jumped on the guy." She sighed as if remembering the day, though surprisingly, a smile grew on her face as she did, placing a hand on her cheek and leaning on it.

"This goofball said that he had to be a boar because he believed me to be the most beautiful gal he had set eyes on and that he would be elated to even be allowed the opportunity to court me, and so I did..."

"..."

"Damn, Thatch, didn't know you were capable of being that smooth," Ace drawled, grinning at the man.

"Hmph, I had to step up my game if I wanted to be considered by this darlin'," he called as he kissed her cheek softly and embraced her once more.

"He did; it was only when he came into the picture that I finally started to go back to normal. I gained my muscles again, and I was able to recuperate my fighting abilities as I was no longer in danger of dropping of hunger!" She cheered

"Not only him, though. I'm also glad I met you guys, too. I got myself so many big brothers along with a husband. You know, the old village also looked down on me practicing swordsmanship, so I was really happy when Vista and other crewmates first approached me inquiring about it.

I was amazed that someone would actually be interested in my skills, not only interested but willing to help me strengthen them as well!"

"Well, your skills are quite formidable. I had never and still have not seen anyone who comes close to wielding a sword like yours and with such grace. It is like watching a dancing performance; I highly enjoy watching you spar." Izou grinned as he resumed eating his dessert as he praised her

"Ya should have seen her spar with Jozu this mornin'! She was stunnin' out there." Thatch grinned.

"Alright, Casanova, I have to get more ingredients from the storage room. Be sure to behave; she called warningly as she untied her apron.

"Love you," She mumbled, giving one last kiss to the man as she made her way out.

"Remind me what Village She came from?" Izou asked once he had made sure she was out of earshot

"I already skinned em."

"Atta boy"

How about them apples ya’ll haven’t written a non-child one in a while! Much one with romance undertones! But I am actually quite happy how it turned out! My biggest pride is that action scene, I sjould stop talking about it but i’m just so proud of myself so let me have this!

I really went heavy on the research for this one guys, the first part I had to go frame for frame on that one scene with mitsuri while also looking gymnastics and acrobatic terms to better write out the scene. For the second part I had to research the likes of the characters by looking at their trivias online and based on that research pastries. Things like Marco least favorite food being Beans, and so I searched for a bean pastry and a pineapple pastry. Since Wano is based on japan I also research some japanese desserts to fit the bill. And I of course had to research some southern slang for out lovely Thatcher 🤭

Taglist:

@Imaginarydreams

@amethystviolin

@h0n3y-l3m0n05

“Hells’ bells!” Thatch yelled in surprise as Dokucha suddenly shot up from the bed. They looked around, confused, frowning as they saw the two commanders. Their little minds slowly filled in the pieces as they glanced at the IV attached to their arm, their hands inching towards the tube.

“Don’t think about it-yoi,” Marco warned as he also shot from his chair and approached the kid.

“You take those off or get out of this clinic without being cleared off, and I will make sure you have no access to your little watch post-yoi,” he warned, pointing a finger their way in a silent challenge.

“I can sue you for malpractice and kidnapping,” they snapped back, not willing to step down from the argument

“First of all, I’m not sure how someone your age even knows that-yoi,” Marco started—throwing a slight glare at Thatch as the latter let out a snicker at Dokucha’s words.

“Second, I am doing my job as a doctor and ensuring you are back to health; that includes making sure you remain here while I do, lest your sun poisoning gets even worse-yoi. I would be performing malpractice if I let you leave in the state that you are.

Third, “We’re pirates; we’re already wanted, so accusing us of anything will do you no good-yoi,” he informed her, letting a little snicker himself at the horrified look they sent his way at his final words.

“Hey, Don’t worry Kid, your safe here; I just need you to stay a little bit longer so I can be sure you won’t faint on us-yoi” he reassured with a smile as he ruffled their head, retracting it just as quickly when Dokucha swatted at him.

“Now, I’ll be at my desk looking through your labs. I’ll leave you to Thatch-yoi; I need you to eat and drink something,” he called as he walked away and took his previous position. He began browsing through a small array of papers, his glasses now back on his face.

“Howdy Sweets!” Thatch greeted, taking Marco’s previous spot. He opened a small table connected to the bed and placed the plate he had brought to the room on it.

“Seeing as you probably have nausea, our options aren’t big, but we still have to try to get somethin' in you. M’sorry, my first dish to ya is hospital food,” he told her as he offered them the dish.

“…This is hospital food?” They mumbled in awe. The dish itself was pretty, like nothing Dokucha had ever seen, with a serving of noodles on one side accompanied by what Dokucha could only guess was some type of curd that seemed to have been baked to perfection. Those were surrounded by different vegetables, from leafy greens to bright red vegetables whose names escaped the child’s mind; a vibrant yellow liquid surrounded the array of food, and the smell was beyond anything they had smelt.”

“Yeah?” Thatch tentatively answered, confused about the reaction of the child, worried that it perhaps was not to their liking

“B-But this is…

“M’sorry if ya don’t like it sweets, I would still like for you t-

“The yummiest food I’ve seen…”

-eat some so ya ca- hah?” Thatch shared a glance with Marco, who by now had lowered the papers and watching the interaction a similar frown on his face.

It was true that Thatch’s skills were well above those of other pirates, not only in cooking ability in general but also in making food an essential part of treatment; but for a simple broth, a food simply meant to help the sick be nursed to health, to be called the best food they had, well, that certainly raised some alarms in both their heads, though they chose not to act on them.

“Well, Marco thinks you’ll be fit as a fiddle come tomorrow, so I’m sure I can get you somethin’ even betta.”

“No, I won’t need it. Papa and Mama will be back by then, so I don’t need your food.” Dokucha called as they seemingly snapped out of the reverie they had entered at the sight of Thatch’s food; their previous attitude to them returning

“Dokucha. They are not coming back-yoi,” Marco stated

“Yes, they are! You guys are liars! Dirty liars!” they yelled, throwing the plate onto the floor in a fit of anger, the sound of the broken ceramic echoing around the clinic.

“Thatch, could you come a bit later? Maybe bring them some dinner instead-yoi.”

Hearing this, Thatch let out an exasperated sigh, and Dokucha could have sworn they heard him muttered something along the lines of ‘not again’ in his heavy accent before he nodded his head and waved dismissively to the Doctor as he left.

“Dokucha, do you know how long it has been since you last saw your parents-yoi?”

“Why does that matter? It doesn’t matter how long it’s been; they are coming back,” they snarled.

“Alright, Let’s make a deal-yoi

You have around a month until you are out of the woods from this sun poisoning. If during that time you let us do what we need to get you there, I will talk to pops about returning to the island we found you in if your parents return during that time great-yoi. But if they don’t, you have to listen to us; you have to listen to what we have to say about it without giving us the cold shoulder.”

“…you won’t force me to stay?”

“No, even if your parents don’t come, you just need to listen to what we have to say about it. Afterward, you are free to go or stay-yoi”

“My parents will be there.” They stated, determined, glaring at the man

“So you agree-yoi?”

“Yes”

Our men are so equipped to deal with trauma 😷

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@Imaginarydreams

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“It’s the one pie Luffy-nii won’t eat! I get to have leftovers! Can I eat it for breakfast tomorrow, please?!” She begged, knowing of the Brazilian boy’s adverse reactions when he had been offered the pastry previously.

“No,” Whitebeard stated without missing a beat, turning around to find the child’s familiar pout now decorating her face.

“Wipe that pout off your face; you know it won’t work on me,” he called, kneeling down to be closer to her as she sunk down, allowing the arm of the couch to hide her frown.

“Listen, I have a surprise for you,” he called, his eyes filling with amusement as this caused the girl to pop out of her hiding spot, before he could continue however a knock interrupted them as their heads turned to the door.

“Can you go answer that?” he called.

“But what about the surprise!” she whined.

“You will not be getting anything if that is how you are going to act. Can you get the door?” he repeated.

“Okay, Paw-paw,” she sighed, jumping out of the couch and scuttled to the door, letting out a squeal at the man standing there.

“Uncle Oden!” she hollered, throwing herself into the man’s arms, who in turn let out a boisterous laugh.

It had been a month since the man had to return to Wano Country University to fulfill his responsibilities as the president. Despite his essential role in WCU, he was always delighted to be sent to Grand Line University as it meant he could come to fulfill his role as the Vice President of the WhitePirate’s underground fraternity.

“I heard we were having a party.”

And a party it was; it was a few short hours as Oden caught up with the President of the house on the newest news and duties from WCU he was to fulfill while he stayed, including the addition of new courses with the hope of bringing the two campuses together and bring in cultural awareness to both sides a task that mainly had fallen on him as GLU’s visiting faculty. He had also bemoaned that a few of his closest students had volunteered to accompany the man, forcing him to focus more on his duties than he would have preferred.

As this unfolded, the youngest sat in his lap, content with being around her uncle after so long. But as soon as guests began trickling in and the music began booming, the two men quickly sent the girl to her room, which she did without much fuss, much to their delight. They should have known better than to trust her easy acquiescence. It would have been that easy to dismiss a four-year-old driven by curiosity.

Thatch sighed, shaking his head as he passed the small child a cup of juice to appease them.

“You’re gonna be the death of me, Dokucha; ya have to go after this one,” he huffed out as he turned his attention to the different liquors before him. He mixed them with practiced ease, passing them with quick regression to the oncoming party-goers while still keeping a keen eye on the small girl sitting on top of one of the stools.

“I love you, Thatch-nii!” she hollered to be heard above the music as she happily gulped down the juice offered to her.

“That may work with me, but it ain’t working with Marco,” he replied with a roll of his eyes, nodding at a guest as the latter thanked the bartender.

“Keep at a secret,” she protested, sticking her tongue out at the exasperated man

“A secret, huh?” An unamused voice called behind her, causing the small girl to let out a squeal as she turned around, trying to make a run for it, albeit unsuccessfully, as the man easily took hold of her clothes, pulling her into his arms

“What have I told you about sneaking into these parties-yoi” He called with a frown as he pulled at her cheeks.

“Ach,” she whined, looking up at the bartender, who just shook his head. His eyes were filled with mirth at the scene before him, ducking his head with a snicker as the med student sent him a pointed glare.

“Don’t look at him; he’s not going to save you; you are in a lot of trouble.”

“I’m sorry!” she cried.

He opened his mouth to undoubtedly make another snarky remark but paused as a loud cheer in one of the rooms interrupted him, causing him to let out a grumble as he walked away from the bar and made his way to the stairs.

“We will talk about this in the morning; you go upstairs to your room and go sleep-yoi; if I go and you are still awake, so help me, I will have you stay in my office all day,”

“No!!” She cried with a pout.

“Then go.”

He sternly ordered as he nudged her to the stairs. Having been faced with the fact that she had been caught, she had no other option but to comply as she dragged her way upstairs, all the way to her room, and shut the door behind her, knowing without having to look down, she just knew that her brother was still keeping an eye on her ensuring that she pulled no more stunts. With no other option, she threw herself on her bed, cuddling to her blankets and stuffies and closing her eyes with a pout still adorning her face; she fell asleep. Sleeping all the way into late morning where, she found herself in the kitchen of the manor, nervously hyping herself to confront her brother.

She fidgeted with her feet, finding them way more interesting than Marco in front of her. Looking pleadingly at Thatch, who had been preparing breakfast behind them, who just gave her a remorseful smile as he shook his head.

“I told ya this would happen, pumpkin. ya’r on your own,” he called.

Marco looked down at her, cheek leaning on his hand as he reclined on the kitchen’s island, lidded eyes unamused as she watched her squirming under his hard stare.

“So? You said you had something to give me?”

“I made you something,” she muttered, pulling a small paper that had now become crinkled under her nervous and tight grip and extending it his way, still not meeting the man’s gaze.

Marco let out a hum, removing himself from his judging position to take hold of the paper. Opening the paper, he raised a brow as what stared back seemed to be a rough and messy display of wobbly letters. Taking a closer look, he was able to decipher an ‘IM ƧOʀY’ written with a red marker above a rough drawing of stick figures in what seemed to be a hugging fashion.

He let out another hum, putting the letter on on the counter as he waved his finger to the child in a beckoning motion, pulling them into his lap as she did as he asked

“Why are you sorry?” he questioned

“Cause I came downstairs?” She questioned

“Coming downstairs is not the problem, Dokucha; the problem is I told you not to come downstairs when the party was going on.”

“I just wanted to see a little,” she whined

“I know, but it’s not safe for you. We’re not doing it to do it; we just want to keep you safe from handsy people and drinks that could get you sick.”

“Sorry.”

“It’s alright, but do it again, and you’re really going to spend the day in my office, alright?” He called, letting out a small smile as she vigorously nodded her head.

“Now, then, you’re getting better at your letters; have you been practicing?” he called, picking up the drawing once again.

Glad that the tense talk was over, she grinned, a proud look on her face as she spoke.

“Yeah! Miss Nami taught me!” Dokucha goaded;

“Good job, you just have to work on your s’s a little bit more, and you will be a full-fledged writer,” he praised, rubbing her head in a teasing manner

“Really?!”

“Yeah, so make sure you listen to Nami-yoi.”

“Okay!” she grinned, throwing herself closer to him in a close hug, spotting something over the Cypriot man’s shoulder.

“It’s Ace-nii!” She cheered, climbing up the man’s body, much to his chagrin, as she watched the raven head make his way out of the house.

“Can I go say good morning? Please?!” she begged.

“Yeah, but don’t go far, alright?! " he grunted as he put her down and watched her skitter outside.

Dokucha let out a happy giggle, ready to call out to the environmental mayor, until she spotted another man come into the picture; her grin grew as she realized who it was, Teech.

Just like her uncle Oden, it had been quite a while since she had seen the burly man, who had been abroad in his homeland, Somalia. Although normally she would be taken on any international trips, Teech had stopped her from following her in this as he had said that the excavation sites he would be working on would be far too dangerous for her. However, saddened at the news that she would not be able to go, her spirits were soon lifted as the training archeologist had promised to bring all the artifacts he was to find on his scouting as an apology for not bringing her along. This promise satiated her all this time as she anxiously awaited his return, counting the days he would come back, and today was the day!

She ran her way to the two but halted a ways away when she noticed a group of men approaching them. Her excitement soon turned to fear when she realized it was men from the real fraternity houses who had been gathering around Teech, all of them wearing the same malicious grins the Somalian had as they made their way closer to Ace.

She didn’t know much about the men but had been told numerous times about them by her family at the WBP. She had been given the talk so much she could recount it word by word. According to her brothers, the house that the WBP was a part of was a group of underground fraternity houses collectively known as ‘Pirate Fraternities’. Because they were not official Greek fraternities, they were always looked down on by the ‘originals.’ The Greek houses always resented them and the freedom the pirate houses had. The greek paternity houses required high academic achievements and GPAs along with a plethora of extra credit hours and processes that seemed to be painstakingly unnecessary in exchange for benefits, connections, advantages, and immunity to the acts they committed constantly which included but was not limited to immunity to alcohol intervention programs, academic scams, and other atrocious deeds the houses performed in the name of hazing. On the other hand, the pirate houses required little to no crazy prerequisites to enter (depending on the house), something that the Greek houses said brought shame to the house as the benefits they provided should come at a price.

She watched with dread and fear as Ace easily pushed them back, punch after punch, and took them down, but this would soon be halted as their numbers quickly overwhelmed the young Brazilian, and she watched with horror as they pummeled him to the ground. Tears streamed down her face as she let out a piercing scream that got the attention of the men; she took notice that one of the men had been in the process of handing something out to Teech until her scream interrupted them.

Ace managed to gain some advantage over the men thanks to the distraction, taking the opportunity he turned to the girl.

“GO!” he hollered, and time seemed to unfreeze as the fraternity once again brought the young man under. She let out another cry as Teech made a dash towards the girl, and she, too, began running, desperate to reach the safety of the house once again.

“Good God almighty!” Thatch exclaimed, startled as Dokucha slammed the door open and ran her way inside.

“Did Ace prank you again-yoi?” Marco drawled, turning around to meet the girl only to pause and shoot up as he took in her state.

“Dokucha?” He questioned, concerned as he rushed over, followed by Thatch as they crouched near the girl.

‘Pumkin’? Why ya shakin' like a leaf? What happened?” Thatch questioned as his head shot up to the entrance as the sound of stomping reached their feet.

“Teech? Ya back? What happened to Dokucha?”

Teech wiped the anger from his face as he took the scene in, approaching the three and attempting to grab the girl from the iron grip she had on the med student.

“Poor thing, she saw a big shadow outside and got scared; you know how she is; I should get her upstairs for her nap,” He called as he pulled her into his grasp

“No! Marco-Nii! Don’t let him take me! Please!” she hollered hysterically, as she latched on to the man.

“Dokucha? It’s okay, it’s just Teech. Don’t tell me you forgot about him; it’s only been a few months,” Marco soothed the girl

“Is that it? Come on, Dokucha, it’s me, I promised ya I would show you many things, right?” Teach seethed out.

“No! NO! No! Please! Thatch, Marco, don’t let me go! Save me! I don’t want to die!”

“Wait a second, Teech. Give her a minute. It seemed you really gave her a scare.”

“Come on, you guys aren’t buying this, are you?” he growled, frustration growing in him.

“I’m just saying she may need a minute,” Thatch shot back, beginning to match his tone.

“Alright, you two calm down,” Marco cut in with a roll of his eyes.

“Just give me a minute to calm her down, Teech; you can put her down to bed then-yoi,”

“Like hell, he will,” a voice growled. Before anyone could react, however, someone had already launched himself on top of the Somalian, beginning to pummel him to the ground.

“Luffy?! What in tarnation are you doing?!” Thatch yelled as he hurried to try to pull him off of Teech but had no luck. The young Brazilian was mercilessly attached to Teech as he continued bringing his fist down on him.

Despite not being part of the WBP House, Luffy was well-welcomed as Ace's adopted brother. In addition to being related to the boy, he was also the President of his own Pirate house, Sigma Heli Psi, which gave the brothers no real reason to turn the boy away regardless of his relationship with one of his members.

“What is going on here?!” Edwards's voice boomed across the living room, watching with fury as the SHP’s president beat down one of his sons to the hysterical crying of his youngest.

“Don’t intervene, Old man!” Luffy hissed as the giant approached them with the intend of pulling him off.

“He tried Killing Ace!”

What did you guys think? Again huge thanks to Hannah and if you have not yet read her piece go go go! I really enjoyed writing this and world building this world with her, especially the cultural build of all the characters. 🤭.

Part two is ready so be prepared tommorow! Or maybe I will post it next week so ya’ll can suffer!

Taglist:

@Imaginarydreams

@amethystviolin

@h0n3y-l3m0n05

@hannahbarberra162