Not A Request But A Shout Out To The MVP Asks That Have Been Submitted That Are Greatly Detailed Requests

Requests are back!

hi guys! i just wanted to let you all know that i've decided to open up my requests again! that being said, things might be a little slower than usual because i’ve got some upcoming exams to prepare for as i stated here. so, i’ll be balancing that with working on requests as much as I can.

i’m excited to get back to creating for you! I’ll do my best to get to everything, just bear with me during this busy time. I can’t wait to see what y'all have in mind! pls know that ideas/suggestions are open too! and be specific with your requests pls! and also i dont plan on writing too much smut like some s3x scenes. i hope u all understand! thank u!!

hello! I saw some of your posts and was wondering if u could wright something with sanji from one piece where the reader is also a chef? Like escoffier from genshin impact. But like she has the same looks and vibe cause I was looking at her trailer or something and she only scolded the male cooks when they did bad and I LOVED that PLEASEE try to make this! Established relationship pls, thank u!

this sounds nice! im not quite familiar w the charac mentioned, tho i looked her up, soo its not much but hope u enjoy this!

Fire in the Kitchen, Heart on the Line

Being in love with a fellow perfectionist chef isn’t always easy—especially when your kitchen becomes a battlefield. But with enough butter, banter, and a little love, Sanji and his fiery girlfriend might just make it through the heat.

sanji x Escoffier!reader | ONE SHOT tags: fluff, sfw, soft romance, ooc(?) a/n: this js me trying to write ffs, this is experimental and for fun only, so expect this ff a bit cringe, akward, and confusing word count: 1k

masterlist | ko-fi

: 𓏲🐋 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖✩࿐࿔ 🌊

The kitchen on the Thousand Sunny was unusually quiet—until a sharp clatter echoed off the walls.

“You call that a brunoise?” your voice rang, sharp as a blade slicing through bone.

Usopp flinched, the knife slipping out of his hand. “I—I was just—”

“No excuses. These cubes are uneven enough to offend geometry itself.” You folded your arms, pristine gloves still white despite the chaos around you. “Throw it out and start again.”

Zoro, seated at the table with a skewer half-loaded with meat, muttered under his breath, “It’s a miracle you two haven’t killed each other in that kitchen yet.”

Sanji entered just then, whistling cheerfully, a towel slung over his shoulder. The moment he caught sight of you—your meticulously tied hair, that commanding glare you reserved only for the incompetent male cooks on board—his eyes lit up with hearts, and his feet nearly floated off the ground.

“Ma chérie~!” he sang, sliding behind you and planting a kiss on your cheek before dodging the spatula you halfheartedly lifted to swat him.

“Sanji,” you said in your signature calm-but-deadly tone, “I told you not to interfere when I’m teaching.”

“I’m not interfering, my love~ I’m admiring.”

“You’re lucky I like you,” you muttered, finally allowing the smile that had been threatening your lips to peek through. “Now get Usopp another carrot before I use his nose as a cutting board.”

“Right away~ Goddess of Gastronomy!” he said, twirling toward the pantry.

You sighed, pressing two fingers to your temple. Life aboard the Sunny was nothing if not chaotic.

And Sanji? He was the eye of your storm, and somehow the hurricane too.

It had been four months since you and Sanji had made your relationship official—not that the rest of the crew hadn’t seen it coming. From the moment you stepped aboard the Sunny, knives flashing and heels clicking like war drums, you and Sanji had danced around each other like rival chefs in a culinary showdown.

Your reputation had preceded you. Known in the South Blue as "Escoffier" your dishes were renowned for their flawless precision, complex flavor pairings, and an almost terrifying level of discipline. Especially toward men. Male chefs, in particular, bore the brunt of your cutting critiques. You didn’t hold back—and you certainly didn’t tolerate mediocrity.

But Sanji? He was different. He matched you plate for plate, idea for idea. And beneath all his dramatic fawning and over-the-top flirting, you had discovered something rare.

Respect.

He listened when you spoke about your work. He valued your opinions. And above all, he didn’t take it personally when you yelled at him for burning the beurre blanc.

(Well—he pouted, but only for a moment. Then he’d get right back to whisking.)

That afternoon, the kitchen was alive with rhythm. You and Sanji moved in tandem, a pair of dancers trained not in waltz but in whisk and flame.

“Ladle,” you said.

“Ladle,” he replied, handing it over.

“Temp check on the lamb?”

“Fifty-two Celsius. Medium-rare in five.”

You turned your head to glance at him, and the two of you paused, catching each other in the moment.

“You’ve got sauce on your cheek,” you said.

“So do you,” he answered, voice softer than it had any right to be.

He wiped your cheek with his thumb. You dabbed his chin with a towel. And then, just as naturally, he leaned in to steal a kiss.

Nami’s voice broke the moment. “Ugh, seriously? You two are gonna make me lose my appetite.”

You didn’t even look back. “Good. More for us.”

That night, Sanji insisted on preparing dinner himself, claiming he wanted to "treat the queen of his kitchen like the royalty she is."

You allowed it—reluctantly.

But as the aromas filled the galley—roasted duck with plum glaze, golden dauphinoise potatoes, and sautéed green beans with garlic and lemon—you couldn’t help but watch him closely from the doorway.

He had removed his jacket, sleeves rolled to his elbows, his golden hair tucked behind his ear. His focus was intense, his movements precise. You knew he was trying to impress you. Even now. Especially now.

And it was working.

When he caught you staring, he grinned. “Enjoying the view, darling?”

“I’m mentally rating your performance,” you replied, though the warmth in your voice betrayed you.

“Out of ten?”

“Six.”

“Six?!”

“You docked three points for putting the duck skin down too early. And one for letting the fond burn—again.”

He dramatically clutched his chest. “You wound me.”

You stepped into the kitchen, wrapping your arms around his waist from behind. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

He turned his head, his lips brushing your forehead. “I know.”

Later that night, after the meal had been devoured and Luffy had fallen asleep mid-dessert, you and Sanji found yourselves alone on the deck.

The sea was calm, the moonlight painting silver trails across the waves.

Sanji sat with his back against the railing, you curled against his side, your head resting on his shoulder.

“Do you ever think,” he murmured, “about opening a restaurant together someday?”

You blinked. “Like… an actual building? Four walls? Guests?”

“Yeah. Something quiet. Cozy. Somewhere we can work together every day and still kiss between courses.”

You smiled. “And scold the interns together.”

His laughter rumbled in his chest. “I’ll be the bad cop this time. You can be the terrifying angel of death.”

“I always am.”

He kissed the top of your head. “You’re perfect, you know?”

“No one’s perfect,” you said quietly. “Not even me.”

“You’re perfect for me. That’s better.”

As you watched the stars, warm in his embrace, you thought about everything the two of you had built. Not just the food. Not just the flirtation. But the trust. The balance. The unspoken understanding of two chefs who demanded excellence—and gave each other grace when they didn’t quite reach it.

In the kitchen, you were a storm. Outside of it, he was your shelter.

And together?

You were a fire that never burned out.

© mariah for the divider <3

Hello, hello, how are you? Can I please ask you for a story? Marco from the Shirohige Pirates finds out by chance that he's going to be a father. 🤣

T/n is Ace's sister, a Marine, and a vice admiral. And Marco's partner, although they see each other occasionally. Marco found out. She had been acting strange the last time they saw each other.

Aunque se ofreció a examinarla, ella se negó porque, según ella, no sería objetivo con su diagnóstico. Días después, T/n se embarcaría en una nueva misión: escoltar a nobles mundiales.

T/n was leaning on her desk, feeling a little dizzy. It's lucky her assistant gives all the orders to the others while she's feeling ill. Not even her haki has been working well these past few weeks. Hello...

T/n dio un salto y casi tiró un vaso de jarabe para el mareo que le había traído el médico del barco. T/n retiró el vaso discretamente, pero Marco lo notó. Siempre estaba tan claro, pero yo no lo había notado.

Y/n, "Hey, what's going on here? I think our next appointment is in two weeks, don't you darling?" Trying to sound normal. Covering herself with her coat. A few folders were falling.

T/n tenía que proteger su secreto. Seguramente, si él lo descubría, la arrastraría. No peor. Probablemente se enojaría con ella por no haberle dicho nada.

Vice Admiral, we're ready. The doctor asks if she's feeling better yet. Seeing the pirate in front of her, Wait, Marco, don't do it. But Marco was faster. The man was already unconscious on the floor. Y/N got up worriedly to check on her subordinate, but Maco grabbed her wrist. She was even thinner than the last time he saw her.

sounds cool tried my best >< tis not much but hope u like it, i apologize in advance if its not that accurate lolol

Blue Flames and Baby Rumors

When you starts showing unusual symptoms, Marco begins connecting the dots—and ends up with the surprise of his life.

Marco the phoenix x reader

tags: fluff, sfw, secret relationship, light drama

a/n: this js me trying to write ffs, this is experimental and for fun only, so expect this ffs a bit cringe

word count: 1k

masterlist | ko-fi

: 𓏲🐋 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖✩࿐࿔ 🌊

The ship rocked gently under the pull of the current, but your head swam like you were being thrashed in a whirlpool. Vice Admiral or not, no amount of rank could prepare you for the unpredictable wrath of morning sickness.

Leaning on your desk, you pressed two fingers to your temple, squinting at a report you weren’t processing. Your assistant was already barking orders outside your office door—thank the heavens. You hadn't given a single command since sunrise.

Then, like a damn ghost in broad daylight—

"Hello."

You jumped, nearly upending a glass of syrup meant to settle your stomach. It sloshed dangerously before you caught it, hurriedly sliding it behind a folder.

And there he stood. Marco the Phoenix.

Golden hair, calm ocean-blue eyes, and a presence that had always made your heart ache in the worst and best ways. Your partner, occasional lover, and the last person you wanted to see right now.

"...Hey," you started, voice too casual. “What’s going on here? I think our next appointment is in two weeks, don’t you, darling?” You tugged your coat tighter over your chest as a few folders slipped off your desk.

Marco didn’t smile. His gaze flicked toward the now half-hidden glass. “Motion sickness?” he asked, and his tone was far too neutral.

“Long voyage,” you replied quickly. “The escort mission has been dragging through choppy waters.”

The look in his eyes made it clear he wasn’t buying that.

You forced a light laugh, walking around the desk to pick up the fallen papers. “I’m not made of sea-stone. Even Vice Admirals get woozy sometimes.”

“You wouldn’t even let me examine you last time-yoi” he said, stepping closer. “You said I wasn’t objective.”

“I stand by that.”

He tilted his head. “You didn’t even let me try.”

You swallowed. No way in hell were you going to talk about this. You were already gambling every inch of this mission by just standing here, trying to keep a secret from the one man who literally healed people for a living.

"Vice Admiral!" your assistant called from outside. "The nobles are waiting. The doctor asks if you're feeling better yet."

You could see the moment the dots fully connected in Marco's sharp gaze.

"Wait—Marco, don't—"

Too late. In one swift movement, Marco disappeared in a flash of blue and reappeared outside. You dashed after him just in time to see your medic crumple to the ground with a startled grunt.

"Marco!"

You dropped to check your subordinate’s pulse—he was unconscious, not harmed seriously—but Marco’s hand clamped gently but firmly around your wrist.

“You’re thinner than before-yoi” he muttered. “You’ve been exhausted. Your Haki’s off. And now motion sickness?”

You stared at him. “Marco, I swear, if you say it—”

“You’re pregnant.”

The words hung in the air like cannon smoke.

You looked away, breath caught in your throat. “It’s none of your—”

His grip tightened slightly, only to loosen as you flinched.

“I didn’t mean to scare you.” he said. “But you are, aren’t you-yoi?”

Silence.

Finally, you exhaled. “...Yes.”

He stepped back. “Is it mine?”

Your head snapped toward him. “What? Of course it’s yours! You—! We—! I haven’t been with anyone else, you idiot!”

Marco blinked. “I just—sorry. I wasn’t accusing. Just… processing.”

He ran a hand through his blond hair, the tension in his usually relaxed frame tangible now.

You crossed your arms, trying to look like the proud Vice Admiral you were instead of the world’s most irresponsible soon-to-be parent. “I didn’t tell you because I thought you’d drag me back to the Grand Line and throw me in a nest of phoenix feathers.”

“You were going to hide my kid from me-yoi?”

“I was going to figure things out myself first,” you said, quieter now. “I didn’t want you to worry. We barely see each other as it is.”

“Because we’re on opposite sides of the damn sea.”

“Exactly.”

A long pause. You shifted uncomfortably, ignoring the familiar twist of nausea.

“I get it,” Marco finally said. “But you should’ve told me-yoi”

You frowned, defensive. “You think I don’t know that? It’s not like I’m thrilled about this, Marco. I’m a Vice Admiral. You’re a pirate. Ace—Ace would’ve flipped if he knew.”

Marco smiled faintly. “Ace would’ve been smug as hell. He always said we’d end up together.”

That made your eyes sting, unexpectedly. “...Don’t do that. Don’t talk about him like he’s still here.”

Marco stepped closer, resting a hand on your shoulder. “You’re not alone in this-yoi.”

“You’re not exactly on call, either.”

“Then I’ll make myself available.”

Your brows shot up. “You’re serious?”

“Dead serious,” he said. “You’re having my kid. I might be a pirate, but I’m not irresponsible. I’ll be there.”

You stared at him, seeing not just the Phoenix, the First Division Commander of the Whitebeard Pirates—but Marco. The man who always showed up exactly when you needed him, even if you didn’t say it aloud.

He took your hand and pressed it to his chest. “You don’t have to hide anymore-yoi”

You let out a long sigh, finally allowing yourself to lean into his warmth. “I still have to finish this mission.”

He groaned. “Of course you do.”

You smirked. “I am a Vice Admiral.”

“You’re a pregnant Vice Admiral.”

“Don’t remind me.”

Later that night, you found yourself leaning against the rail of the ship, the cool breeze easing your nausea better than the syrup. Marco leaned beside you, arms crossed, watching the sea.

“So… how far along?” he asked.

“Almost two months.”

“...Was that before or after I gave you that weird seaweed stew in Alabasta?”

You snorted. “Definitely after.”

He grimaced. “I hope the baby doesn’t remember that-yoi”

You laughed, and for the first time in weeks, it felt real. “Thanks for coming, Marco.”

He turned his head slightly. “I’ll be back before the baby’s born. Promise.”

“You better be,” you replied. “Or I’m naming it Garp.”

Marco's face turned pale. “You wouldn’t.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Try me.”

He stared, then smirked. “...Fine. But I’m putting ‘Phoenix’ on the birth certificate.”

“Oh, absolutely not.”

Please do a part two of Queen Of Chaos!! 😭😭 Like with a plot twist of the reader having a secret relationship with a lazy laid back man (Kuzan) 😉 and they're all shock!! Please 🙏🏻🥺

hii! its a good idea but unfortunately, queen of chaos is one shot only >< hope u understand!!

Giant Duck Incident

When Luffy mistakes a giant duck for dinner and ends up getting a kiss instead

LUFFY X GN!READER ౨ৎ💗 ONE SHOT

tags: fluff, sfw

a/n: this js me trying to write ffs, this is experimental and for fun only so expect this ffs a bit cringe

masterlist | ko-fi

words count: 1.1k

: 𓏲🐋 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖✩࿐࿔ 🌊

The sun was high, the sea was calm, and there were absolutely no signs of trouble.

Which, on the Thousand Sunny, meant one thing:

Trouble was coming.

“LUFFY, NO—!!”

Too late. You watched in horror as Monkey D. Luffy, your idiot-slash-sweetheart captain, launched himself full-speed off the ship.

“THAT’S A HUGE DRUMSTICK!!”

He landed with a wet splat on what you now saw was not, in fact, a drumstick, but a massive, living, very not amused yellow blob.

A duck.

A giant duck. Towering, glistening, waddling angrily in the shallows.

It honked—a sound that felt more like a roar—and thrashed its wings wildly, trying to throw the rubbery parasite off its back.

Luffy clung to its neck like a child to a carnival ride, cackling madly. “SHISHISHSHI IT’S THE SIZE OF A WHOLE BANQUET!!”

You pinched the bridge of your nose. “This man has the survival instincts of a particularly reckless bread roll.”

You glanced at the rest of the crew.

Zoro was asleep.

Sanji was busy sculpting carrot roses for Robin.

Robin was reading, obviously not surprised.

Nami looked up from her map just long enough to yell, “Not it!”

Usopp and Chopper screamed something about curses and jumped into a barrel together.

Which left you.

Of course it did.

—

The duck, still honking its fury to the high heavens, stomped in circles while Luffy attempted to bite its side. You sprinted down the ramp and into the shallow surf.

“LUFFY, GET OFF THE DUCK!”

“I’M TRYING TO TASTE IT!”

“IT’S A SENTIENT CREATURE!”

“BUT IT LOOKS SO CRISPY—”

The duck, insulted on a deeply personal level, launched itself upward in one majestic leap and sent Luffy flying through the air like a flailing meat meteor. He landed beside you, face in the sand, limbs splayed in defeat.

“…Ow,” he mumbled.

You sighed and knelt beside him. “You good?”

He gave you a thumbs-up, still face-down. “YUP! SHISHISHI”

You helped brush sand off his hat as he sat up.

“Luffy,” you said, trying to be calm, “you can’t eat random animals just because they’re big and vaguely drumstick-shaped.”

“But look at it!” he whined, pointing. “It’s got those golden thighs! The rotisserie energy! The juicy potential!”

“It has a name, probably. A family. A job.”

He squinted. “Maybe it’s an orphan with a deep desire to fulfill its destiny as dinner.”

You blinked then laugh at this. “… pftt! did you just create a duck backstory to justify your cravings?”

“Yes!” he said proudly. “That’s called empathy I think! SHISHISHI”

You stared at him, completely deadpan. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

He blinked. Then beamed. “You think I’m cute?”

“…That was supposed to stay in my head.”

“TOO LATE!” he yelled, springing to his feet and throwing his arms in the air like a victorious meat wrestler. “Y/N THINKS I’M CUUUUTE!!”

“Luffy!”

“I’M CUTE! I’M CUTE! EVEN CUTER THAN THE DUCK!”

The duck, now perched like a war god on a rock, glared at him with pure malice.

You sighed. “We’re gonna be hunted by poultry assassins. I can feel it.”

—

Back on the Sunny, after Luffy was physically restrained from offering the duck “one little nibble,” peace was finally restored. The sun dipped low, painting the sky in soft golds and purples.

You sat on the deck’s edge, feet dangling over the sea. Luffy flopped beside you, hat tilted back, grin wide.

“Hey, Y/N,” he said suddenly.

You braced yourself. “If you ask me to cook duck—”

“No, no,” he chuckled. “I was gonna say... I like when you laugh.”

You turned to him, surprised.

He was watching you. Not in the usual Luffy way — not like when he spotted meat across the room, or stared down an enemy. This was the kind of look that made your chest feel warm and your brain do a little somersault.

“Earlier,” he said, “you laughed when I said something about empathy”

“Thats not... I was mocking you!,” you replied. “I thought I was about to watch you get pecked into a new time zone.”

“But you still laughed,” he said, all sunny and smug. “You always do.”

“That’s because you’re ridiculous.”

“You like it,” he teased, nudging your shoulder.

You bit back a smile. “I tolerate it. Barely.”

He tilted his head, expression soft. “Zoro said it’s obvious.”

“…You talked to Zoro about me?”

“I asked if I could kiss you,” Luffy said bluntly. “He said ask you, not him.”

Your brain fizzled. “Wait. What—”

“So,” Luffy continued, turning fully to face you with that open, earnest joy you’d come to adore, “can I?”

“Can you what?”

“Kiss you,” he said like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Your breath caught. This was the same boy who just tried to eat a duck like it was a buffet item. Who once got stuck inside a vending machine trying to retrieve a stuck candy bar. Who sometimes forgot his shoes and didn’t notice for an hour.

And yet.

Your heart fluttered like it hadn’t gotten the memo about logic.

“…Yes,” you said, quiet.

His face lit up like a festival. “Yeah?!”

You nodded.

He scooted close—awkwardly but gently—and cupped your cheek, his hand warm and calloused. The kiss was clumsy, sweet, quick. His nose bumped yours, and when he pulled away, he had that stupidly big grin that made your stomach flip.

“WHOA,” he whispered.

“Yeah,” you whispered back.

He leaned back on his hands, practically glowing. “Gonna tell Zoro it worked!”

“LUFFY—NO—!”

Too late.

“ZORO!! I KISSED Y/N!! AND THEY SAID YES!! YOU WERE RIGHT!!”

You groaned and dropped your head into your hands as Zoro’s muffled “I don’t care!” echoed from the crow’s nest.

Sanji’s head whipped up from the kitchen door, his cigarette dangling dangerously.

“WHAT?!”

Luffy turned mid-skip. “I kissed Y/N!”

Sanji's eye twitched. “I leave you alone for ONE romantic sunset and you SNEAK AHEAD?!”

You, now partially hiding behind the mast, groaned. “Oh no.”

“Luffy, you absolute—! That was supposed to be MY kiss! I was going to bring you a fruit parfait! HOW DARE YOU KISS MY Y/N~CHWANNNNN!”

Luffy skipped back to you, unbothered and beaming. “Wanna kiss again?”

You peeked through your fingers. “If you promise not to announce it like a seagull with a megaphone.”

He nodded. “Fineee!. But I will write it in my logbook shishishi.”

“…You have a logbook?!”

“It’s mostly meat sketches and battle doodles. But now it has you.”

And your heart, traitor that it was, somersaulted again.

You sighed. “Fine. Just… no more trying to eat ducks.”

He tilted his head. “What if it asks nicely?”

You groaned, flopping back dramatically.

And somewhere in the distance, a vengeful honk echoed over the sea.

Hello, thank you so much for writing this story about Marco. I loved it. I've never read a good ending to the war. One of the best. You're a goddess.

hii~ thank uu sm! i really appreciate it!! im worried that its still missing some things but either way im glad u enjoyed it!

Hello, hello, hello, beautiful, gorgeous, divine

I love your story Marco nooo I love all your stories you are fantastic

I love you, please beg for something. Can you create a Marco the Phoenix story for y/n? Where y/n saves Thatch's life by stopping Teach's attack? Thatch was injured, but not seriously, losing the yami yami nomi. However, y/n was seriously injured protecting her nakama. Marco and Ace, his brother, are very worried. More so Marco 😏 Since the young woman wasn't waking up, When she regained consciousness, she played a joke on Marco for being so worried, Pretending not to recognize them 🤣 Later, Y/n spoke to Whitebeard, discussing the traitor and how dangerous he would become in the future. When she returned to Marco, she lay down next to him, thanking him for taking care of her all that time, and that even though she couldn't answer him, she always heard him calling her. Please, I implore you.

lmaoao this is funny i like it! dahaha u can support me through ko-fi, but please know that tips are never expected but always deeply appreciated! also I hope this is to ur liking!

Teach Tried It, I Survived It

After stopping Teach’s betrayal and nearly dying, you wake up in Marco’s arms—and decide that pranking him with fake amnesia is exactly what he deserves before finally falling into the comfort of home and love.

Marco the phoenix x reader tags: slight angst, sfw, ooc, bl00d/v!olence, happy ending, betrayal, a/n: this js me trying to write ffs, this is experimental and for fun only, so expect this ffs a bit cringe word count: 2k

masterlist | ko-fi

: 𓏲🐋 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖✩࿐࿔ 🌊

The sun blazed high over the open sea, casting golden light across the deck of the Moby Dick. The battle was well underway — a scrappy band of pirates had made the monumental mistake of challenging the Whitebeard Pirates. Bad for them. Good for everyone else who needed a bit of exercise.

You ducked under a wild swing from some random enemy pirate, spun on your heel, and delivered a solid punch to his gut. He crumpled with a satisfying oof.

"Oi! Y/N!" Thatch shouted from a few feet away, grinning like a maniac, a strange fruit in his hand. "Check this out!"

You sliced another pirate across the side with your blade (nothing fatal, you were feeling merciful today) and jogged over.

"What did you find this time?" you asked, breathing hard, a spark of excitement lighting your eyes.

Ace clambered over a fallen mast to join you. "Yo, Thatch, whatcha got?"

Thatch held the thing out like it was a newborn kitten. The fruit was round and black with swirling violet patterns, almost like the night sky had been trapped inside it.

"I found something interesting," he said proudly.

Ace squinted. "Ohhh... is that a Devil Fruit?"

You leaned closer. "Looks like one. Wonder what it does."

Behind you, a presence stiffened. You glanced over your shoulder.

Teach — good ol' big, laughing Teach — was standing there, his usual grin stretched way too tight. His forehead was shiny with sweat despite the easy fight. When he noticed you looking, he barked out a laugh that didn’t reach his eyes.

"Heh! Devil Fruit, huh? Zehahaha! Who knows? Maybe it's a lame one, like making your farts turn into explosions!"

Ace snorted. "Wouldn't put it past the sea."

You shook your head, laughing, not noticing the way Teach’s hands clenched at his sides.

That night, the Moby Dick was peaceful. The waves lapped lazily against the hull. Most of the crew was sprawled across the deck or below, snoring, laughing, or drinking.

You had just curled up in your hammock when a strange noise cut through the stillness.

Scuffle.

You bolted upright, instincts screaming. Without a second thought, you grabbed your weapon and padded silently toward the sound.

Your heart dropped into your stomach.

There, in the dim lantern light, was Teach — stabbing Thatch through the side.

"Teach?!" you gasped.

Thatch grunted, struggling, but Teach was too strong. His eyes were wild, desperate, like a man possessed.

Without hesitation, you leapt into action.

"THAT'S ENOUGH! TEACH! HOW DARE YOU!?" you roared, slamming into Teach with everything you had.

The two of you crashed into the deck. Your blade flashed; Teach snarled and swung a fist, and you met it with a grimace, blocking the worst of the blow. It was chaos — wood splintered under your feet as you battled, the sounds waking a few of the closer crewmates.

But Teach was slippery. He was fighting like a man who had nothing left to lose, and with one last shove, he pushed you back, making you stumble.

Your foot caught the edge of a broken beam, and before you could react, Teach's fist landed squarely on the side of your head. The world spun instantly, your vision going blurry as the impact sent you crashing to the ground.

“Y/N!” Thatch cried weakly from where he was still slumped, blood dripping from his side.

You blinked hard, trying to regain your senses. A searing pain throbbed in your head, and the edges of your vision blurred even further. You could barely hear anything over the ringing in your ears as your body felt like it was on fire.

Just as you tried to push yourself up, Teach took his chance, grabbing the mysterious fruit from Thatch’s weakening grip. His sinister laugh filled the night air as he turned and bolted into the shadows, vanishing before anyone could stop him.

You couldn’t chase him.

Your body was failing you.

With a grunt, you collapsed to the floor, dizziness consuming you. Your world tilted, everything spinning as blood pooled beneath you. The last thing you heard was the frantic sound of footsteps.

.

.

When you cracked your eyes open, it was to the blinding white of the infirmary ceiling. Everything hurts, your head hurts.

The room was filled with silence, save for the steady beeping of the heart monitor beside the bed. Marco sat slumped forward, elbows on his knees, head bowed in exhausted vigilance. He hadn’t left your side in days — barely eating, barely sleeping. Even Ace, who was normally a ball of chaotic energy, was quieter than a graveyard at midnight, sitting against the wall and anxiously tossing a small ball between his hands.

Then, finally, the miracle happened.

You groaned.

Marco was upright so fast he nearly knocked over the chair. "Y/N?!"

Your eyes fluttered open, squinting against the light. Slowly, you turned your head, taking in the sight of Marco — disheveled, wide-eyed, hopeful — and Ace, who had shot to his feet, mouth hanging open in disbelief.

You blinked a few times. A mischievous thought bubbled up. You couldn't resist. Then you tilted your head in confusion.

"...Who are you?" you rasped, your voice hoarse from disuse.

The world froze.

Marco actually stumbled back a step, his mouth parting in horror. "W-What?"

Ace dropped the ball he'd been tossing — it hit the floor with a pathetic little bounce. "No way," he muttered, eyes wide as saucers.

You frowned, genuine confusion painted across your features. "Where am I? What happened? Are you... my doctors?"

Marco choked on air. "Doctors?! w-well, I am! but..." His voice cracked, his wings briefly puffing out in shock. "Y/N—it's me! It's Marco-yoi!"

You gave him a pitying, bewildered look, like he was some delusional lunatic. "I'm sorry, I... I don't know any 'Marco.'"

Ace ran a hand down his face, whispering to himself, "Oh my god, oh my god, Pops is gonna kill us."

Marco dropped to his knees by the bed, panic etched into every sharp line of his face. "Y/N, please, listen! It's me! You—you always called me 'birdbrain'! Remember? And Ace—he's the loud one! You always yell at him!-yoi"

You gave a tiny, skeptical squint at Ace. "He does look like he yells a lot," you mumbled thoughtfully.

Ace put a hand over his heart, wounded. "Hey!"

"Y/N..." Marco reached for your hand, his own trembling. "Please tell me you're joking."

You pulled your hand away, shrinking back against the pillows dramatically. "S-sir!, I don't even know you! Why are you touching me?!"

Ace looked between you and Marco, starting to sweat buckets. "She really doesn't remember us?! Oh my god—I'm not ready to raise someone! I can barely keep my plants alive!"

Marco paled. "Ace, this isn't about raising—"

"We'll have to teach her everything again!" Ace wailed. "How to walk! How to talk! Oh no—do you even remember how to eat?"

You blinked at him, deadpan. "I don't know... can you show me?"

Ace immediately picked up a banana from a nearby fruit basket and started dramatically demonstrating how to eat it, like some crazed tutorial video.

"First you PEEL it," he said loudly, yanking the peel down and waving it in your face. "Then you put the FOOD PART in your MOUTH—"

"Enough!" Marco barked, his voice cracking with desperation.

He turned back to you, gripping the edge of the mattress. His eyes were so blue and so full of heartbreak that you nearly cracked right there.

"Y/N..." he whispered, voice raw. "Even if you don't remember me... I'll stay with you. I'll protect you until you remember. I swear it."

Your throat tightened.

You stared at him for a long, tense moment.

Then you cracked a wicked smile.

"...Dumbass," you wheezed, voice croaky but full of teasing mischief. "Of course I remember you, pineapple head!"

The silence was so thick you could hear a pin drop.

Ace's banana hit the floor.

Marco stared at you, eyes wide, processing... and then, "WHAT?!"

You burst into a fit of raspy laughter, clutching your sides painfully. "Oh my god, the LOOK on your face—!" you cackled, tears forming at the corners of your eyes.

"You little—!" Marco sputtered, half lunging at you and half hugging you at the same time.

"You should've seen yourselves!" you wheezed. "Ace was about to teach me how to chew!"

Ace pointed an accusing finger at you. "You gave me a heart attack, Y/N! I was ready to start teaching you object permanence!"

Marco collapsed onto the side of the bed, groaning into your blanket. "I can't believe you did that-yoi. I was ready to—!" His voice broke again.

You smiled softer now, reaching out and brushing his messy blond hair back from his face. "I'm sorry, Marco... couldn't resist. You were just too easy."

He lifted his head, cheeks flushed slightly, a trembling smile forming. "You're the worst," he said hoarsely, voice thick with relief.

"And you love me for it," you teased.

"...Yeah," he whispered back, no hesitation at all.

You blinked.

Your heart fluttered.

Ace, oblivious as usual, was still dramatically re-enacting how he was going to "re-educate" you with flashcards and alphabet songs in the background. You and Marco stared at each other, soft and quiet amidst the chaos, and for a moment, the world was right again.

You were safe. You were alive. You were home.

.

.

Later, once the fuss had died down (and Ace had finally been dragged off to sleep), you found yourself summoned to Whitebeard’s quarters.

The old man sat on his throne-like chair, the steady pulse of his IV a soft, constant background noise.

"You fought well, little one," Whitebeard said, his voice rumbling like distant thunder. His gaze was heavy, serious. "But you were lucky."

You nodded, bowing your head respectfully.

"Teach..." you began.

Whitebeard’s eyes narrowed.

"He was after that fruit," you said grimly. "It wasn’t random. He knew what it was. And if he went so far as to attack Thatch, his own crewmate..." You shook your head. "He's dangerous. More dangerous than we realized."

Whitebeard grunted, the sound low and displeased.

"A traitor among my sons," he murmured, anger flashing in his gaze. "We will hunt him down."

You hesitated. "He has the Yami Yami no Mi now. I don't know much about it, but I saw enough. That fruit... it's not normal. His power—"

"—Will be immense," Whitebeard finished.

You nodded grimly.

There was a long silence.

"You did well protecting your brother," Whitebeard said at last, his expression softening. "Rest now. Heal. We have a long road ahead."

You bowed again and left, heart heavy but determined.

When you returned to the infirmary, Marco was there, perched like a golden phoenix on the edge of the bed.

He looked up, immediately easing when he saw you.

"Hey, yoi," he said softly.

You didn’t say anything. Instead, you limped over and, without asking, slid onto the bed beside him.

Marco froze, startled — and then melted, wrapping an arm carefully around your shoulders so you didn’t jostle your injuries.

For a while, you just lay there, breathing together.

Finally, you spoke, voice quiet against his chest.

"Thank you."

He tilted his head down, puzzled. "For what-yoi?"

"For staying," you murmured. "For talking to me even when I couldn’t answer. For calling me back."

Marco’s throat bobbed as he swallowed hard.

"You heard me?" he whispered.

"Every word," you said, smiling faintly. "Even when I was somewhere dark... you were there."

Marco closed his eyes, pressing his forehead to yours.

"You scared me so bad," he whispered, voice raw. "I thought I'd lost you-yoi"

"You didn’t," you promised.

He kissed your forehead, the gentlest brush of lips, barely a touch.

"I’m not going anywhere," you said.

Marco smiled — a real one, full of love and hope and lingering fear.

"Good," he said, pulling you closer. "Because I’m not letting you out of my sight-yoi."

You chuckled softly, your heart full despite the pain.

"Guess you're stuck with me," you teased.

"Wouldn’t have it any other way," Marco said against your hair.

And for the first time since everything had gone to hell, you felt truly safe.

hellooo I really like your work and would like to request some angst

maybe like reader dies or gets close to it. some more uncommon charcters too like nami, usopp, or franky please!!

thank you for really cool work and I hope you can do this!!

hii! thank u sm~ oohh~ thats a great idea, ive decided to put them all together, hope u like it!

What Remains

The Straw Hats survive a Marine superweapon test — but only because you don’t. You made a choice to save them all, and they didn’t see it coming.

strawhats x platonic gn! reader tags: angst, sfw, ooc, major character death, platonic bonds, grief a/n: this js me trying to write ffs, this is experimental and for fun only, so expect this ffs a bit cringe word count: 1k

masterlist | ko-fi

: 𓏲🐋 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖✩࿐࿔ 🌊

Smoke curled upward from the scorched ruins of the Marine testing island. The sky was dim, bleeding orange as the sun tried and failed to burn away the choking clouds.

They found your body beneath the collapsed structure—arms still raised like you were shielding the others even in death.

It wasn’t the injuries that broke them. It was the look on your face.

Peaceful.

Like you knew.

ONE WEEK EARLIER.

"These weapons..." Franky said, examining the diagrams. "They’re worse than anything Vegapunk ever dreamed up. They’re built to erase islands."

“And they’re testing them here?” Nami’s voice trembled with disbelief.

Usopp peered over the map. “That’s not all. Some of this... it’s Poneglyph script. These freaks are mixing history with firepower.”

You didn’t say anything.

You just stared at the map. Quiet. Calm. Like a storm on the horizon no one else had seen yet.

“We have to stop this,” you said.

Of course, everyone agreed.

But none of them saw what you saw. None of them realized the cost yet.

Not even you.

THE BATTLE.

The Straw Hats split into teams. Luffy and Zoro drew the front lines away. Robin sabotaged the comms. Brook and Jinbei distracted the guards. Chopper tended to wounded civilians trying to escape.

You were supposed to go in with Franky and Usopp.

You didn’t.

You slipped away the moment they weren’t looking, whispering your last words to Nami before disappearing into the smoke.

“I trust you. Don’t look back.”

You found the core buried deep underground.

A thrumming vault of seastone and ancient script, glowing with stolen knowledge and raw destruction.

You knew what it meant.

You could read the Poneglyph fragments embedded in the weapons.

You knew what would happen if they were activated.

So you made a choice.

A selfish, irreversible choice.

You overloaded the core.

THE AFTERMATH.

When the blast hit, it carved a crater into the earth.

Luffy felt it first—his scream carried across the island like a cannon blast. “(Y/N)!!”

Franky’s stomach dropped. He bolted toward the smoke, ignoring everything—orders, pain, fire.

Usopp followed. Nami, too. She didn’t even speak. Her Clima-Tact sparked wildly, emotions bleeding into weather.

They dug with bare hands and bleeding fingers.

And finally, they found you.

Still. Burned. Crushed.

But unmistakably you.

And unmistakably gone.

THE SUNNY.

Franky hadn’t spoken in two days.

He sat in the engine room, back turned to everyone, arms blackened with soot and oil. He worked until his hands bled, building gods knew what.

Chopper had tried to check on him. Franky didn’t even look up.

Usopp wandered the deck in silence, eyes red, mouth dry. He hadn’t told a single story since they left the island.

He’d tried. He opened his mouth once to make a joke, and nothing came out.

So he just sat with your grave marker, talking to it like you were there.

And Nami—Nami was broken in a way no one had ever seen.

She didn’t cry loudly. She didn’t scream. She just shut down.

She went days without food. Sat curled in the crow’s nest, staring out to sea, clutching the note you left her in your final moments.

"Don’t look back."

She hated you for it.

She loved you for it.

She never stopped shaking.

NIGHT.

Luffy stood by the railing, his hat pulled low, wind in his face.

Sanji stood beside him in silence.

“You knew they were gonna die,” Luffy said suddenly. His voice wasn’t angry. It was hollow.

Sanji lit a cigarette, fingers shaking. “I knew they weren’t coming back.”

Luffy didn’t answer.

“They saved all of us,” Sanji added after a long pause.

“I didn’t want saving,” Luffy whispered.

Then he turned and walked away.

FRANKY.

The machine he was building exploded.

He didn’t flinch.

Robin found him hours later, crouched beside the wreckage, staring into space.

“They’d have slapped me for this,” he said quietly.

Robin knelt beside him. “For what?”

“For not stopping them.”

“They knew what they were doing.”

“That doesn’t make it easier.”

Robin placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. “It never does.”

USOPP.

He buried the dials you used in a small, unmarked box.

Every trap you helped him design, every gadget you tweaked. Gone. Hidden away like a secret.

“I’m never going to be that brave,” he whispered.

Then he broke.

Ugly, shaking sobs that echoed across the deck.

NAMI.

She didn’t speak for three days.

Then, she found Franky. Slammed him into a wall.

“You let them go alone!” she screamed.

Franky didn’t fight back. “I know.”

“YOU PROMISED—YOU PROMISED ME THEY’D COME BACK—!”

He wrapped his arms around her mid-swing, held her as she sobbed, her fists pounding against his chest until they were too weak to lift.

ONE WEEK LATER.

Luffy called everyone to the deck.

No one knew why.

When they arrived, they found him standing in front of a small, newly-built monument.

A single beam of the destroyed fortress. Carved with your name.

And beneath it—your jacket. Cleaned. Pressed. Folded neatly.

Luffy didn’t speak.

He didn’t need to.

They stood together. Silent.

One by one, they left offerings.

Sanji placed a bottle of sake.

Robin left a single violet flower.

Chopper tied a string of charms around the wood.

Zoro leaned his sword against it for a moment. A quiet nod of respect.

Brook played a low, mournful tune on his violin.

Jinbei lit a lantern and pushed it into the sea.

Usopp placed a small slingshot on the beam.

Franky left a blueprint.

And Nami… Nami placed your note. The last one you ever wrote.

“Don’t look back.”

She whispered, “I’m going to.”

Then she walked away.

.

.

.

They kept your room the way it was.

No one said it aloud—but they all visited.

Nami would sit on your bed when the nightmares came.

Usopp would fix the shelves you always overloaded with junk.

Franky recharged your tools every week, even though you weren’t there to use them.

And Luffy…

Luffy would sit on the figurehead, facing forward, holding your jacket in his lap.

He never cried where anyone could see.

But the jacket was always warm.

As if it still remembered you.

Y/n is part of the navy, a daughter of Roger's navy, Shirojige wouldn't allow it. He ordered one of his sons to capture her and bring her to him. The one chosen for this mission was his closest son, Marco. He had previously sent other ships. My sons, they all returned badly injured. Oh, he simply evaded them. That young lady had a bad temper. Shirojige laughed while drinking. Y/n was in her office on the ship. Her men had debarked for supplies. She stayed on the ship finishing some paperwork. Her next mission was to go to Mary Georgina. She was supposed to escort some world nobles. She got up and took two jugs, filling them with sake. I thought this time she would send Ace, but she sent her brightest jewel. Hello, I look at him, smiling. Drink and go, please. Tomorrow we'll set sail and I'll be very busy, darling.

turning his folder so he wouldn't see the information for his next mission

got a bit confused with some parts, i apologize if its not accurate, but i hope i delivered ur request well! 💝(˶˃⤙˂˶)

Chasing Embers

A Navy captain and Roger’s daughter, Y/N, faces off against Marco, Whitebeard’s fiercest son — but not every battle is meant to be fought with swords.

Marco the phoenix x fem! reader tags: fluff, slight angst, sfw, forbidden relationship a/n: this js me trying to write ffs, this is experimental and for fun only, so expect this ffs a bit cringe word count: 1k

masterlist | ko-fi

: 𓏲🐋 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖✩࿐࿔ 🌊

The sun dipped low, casting an orange glow over the docked ship as the men scurried about, leaving their captain behind to handle "boring work," as they called it. Y/N stayed behind in her quarters, papers spread across her desk — reports, maps, and tomorrow’s orders, neatly organized. Her next mission was… delicate, and one she wasn't looking forward to: escorting some stuck-up World Nobles to Marijoa.

She let out a sigh and pushed the folder a little further from reach. No need for prying eyes.

Outside, the sea was too still. Too quiet.

It didn’t surprise her when a presence flickered at the edge of her Haki — steady, powerful, familiar in a way that made her chest tighten.

Another one of Whitebeard’s sons.

Again.

With an almost lazy motion, she grabbed two jugs, filled them with sake, and stood up, just as a shadow slipped inside through the open window like it was the easiest thing in the world.

"Yo," the man greeted smoothly, tilting his head with a slight, teasing smirk.

Marco.

Not one of the reckless ones this time. No — the one. Whitebeard's right-hand man. The one smart enough not to pick a fight first.

Y/N smiled sweetly, offering a jug out toward him. "I thought this time he'd send Ace," she mused, voice light, almost amused, "but no. He sent his brightest jewel instead."

Far across the sea, aboard the Moby Dick, Whitebeard let out a hearty laugh, a massive sake cup in hand, surrounded by his sons. "That young lady has a bad temper," he boomed, slamming the cup down with a grin that stretched wide across his weathered face. "You boys were too soft with her."

Marco chuckled low and warm as if hearing his father’s voice echo in his memory. Stepping closer, he accepted the jug from her with a brush of his fingers against hers. "Ace volunteered," he said simply. "Oyaji said no."

"Smart man," she said, tapping her jug against his before tipping it back for a long sip. "Drink and go, darling. Tomorrow we'll set sail, and I'll be very busy."

She moved casually, spinning her folder closed with a flick, keeping the classified orders out of his sharp blue gaze.

Marco’s eyes flickered briefly to the desk but didn't push it. Instead, he leaned his hip against the table, the wood creaking softly under his weight. His stare was steady, but there was no hostility there — only a quiet patience that made her skin prickle.

"You always this welcoming to people sent to kidnap you?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Only to the pretty ones," she said, grinning.

Marco huffed a small laugh through his nose, amused but unconvinced. "Flattery won't save you-yoi."

"Wasn’t trying to save myself," she replied smoothly, leaning back against her chair. "Just trying to enjoy my last few hours of peace before everything goes to hell."

A silence settled between them, not uncomfortable, but heavy — like the weight of everything they both carried. Two people born into impossible legacies.

He swirled the sake in his jug lazily, glancing at her from the corner of his eye. "You're Roger's daughter."

"You sound surprised."

He shrugged a broad shoulder. "Not surprised. Just… funny-yoi. You ended up in the Navy, of all places."

Y/N smirked, taking another sip. "Thought it would piss more people off that way."

Marco chuckled again, the sound low and warm. "Definitely pissed off Oyaji," he admitted. "But he's more worried about you getting yourself killed-yoi"

"I can take care of myself."

"I know." His voice was serious now, no teasing in it. "That's the problem."

Their eyes locked, something sparking between them — raw, unspoken.

Y/N set her jug down carefully. "So," she said, her tone light but her fingers tightening around the edge of the desk, "what's the plan, Marco? Tie me up? Drag me kicking and screaming? Gonna knock me out?"

Marco finished his drink in one smooth pull and set the jug aside, pushing off the table to stand tall in front of her. He was close enough now that she had to tilt her head up slightly to meet his gaze.

"No," he said simply.

"No?" she echoed, narrowing her eyes.

He smiled — slow, confident, infuriatingly calm. "I'm gonna ask you nicely-yoi."

She blinked. "You're kidding."

"Come with me. We'll tell Oyaji you put up a good fight. Save you from the idiots who'll try again after me."

Her jaw clenched. Part of her wanted to laugh. Part of her wanted to throw the jug at his head.

"You think I can just walk away from everything? From my duty?"

"You think they'd hesitate if it was you in their way?" he asked softly.

It stung because it was true.

Marco took a step closer, close enough now that she could feel the heat rolling off him. His hand brushed her wrist, not grabbing, just… there. An invitation.

"You're not the enemy-yoi," he murmured. "You never were."

For a long moment, Y/N just stared at him, the weight of the decision pressing down on her chest. Her crew, her mission, her life — or the freedom that whispered at her through Marco’s touch.

"I can't," she whispered finally, voice tight.

Marco didn’t look disappointed. He just nodded, like he already knew.

"Then," he said, giving her a wry little smile, "I guess I'll have to carry you after all."

Before she could react, the window behind him shattered — a warning shot from one of her lieutenants returning with supplies. The crew was back. Reinforcements.

Y/N cursed under her breath, grabbing the hilt of her sword from behind the desk, while Marco just sighed like this was all mildly inconvenient.

"Guess that's my cue-yoi" he said, flashing her a grin.

"You’re not getting off that easy!" she snapped, lunging at him.

He dodged easily, the blue flames of his devil fruit flaring briefly around his arms as he vaulted back out the window, vanishing into the night.

But not before calling out over his shoulder:

"I'll be back for you,-yoi!"

Y/N stood there breathing hard, sword still in hand, heart hammering against her ribs.

Damn him.

Damn him and that stupid smile.

Imagine Gear5!Luffy And normal luffy fighting over reader.......

wait! this is so smart! i like ur idea! dahaha

Double Trouble

When a freak accident splits Luffy into two, chaotic Gear 5 Luffy and sweet Normal Luffy — both versions hilariously compete for your heart, dragging the entire crew into the madness until everything returns to normal… mostly.

LUFFY X GN!READER | ONE SHOT

tags: fluff, sfw, love triangle(both are luffy lol)

a/n: this js me trying to write ffs, this is experimental and for fun only, so expect this ffs a bit cringe

word count: 1.1k

masterlist | ko-fi

: 𓏲🐋 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖✩࿐࿔ 🌊

It all started with a bang — literally.

One moment, you were helping Nami reorganize the treasure room. Next, the whole Thousand Sunny lurched with a loud BOOM, rattling the floorboards and sending gold coins scattering like fireworks.

"What now?" Nami groaned, hands on her hips.

You rushed topside with the others, weapons drawn or fists clenched — expecting an attack.

Instead, you got... two Luffys.

One perfectly normal, grinning Luffy. And one... not so normal.

The second Luffy floated lazily above the deck, hair glowing brilliant white, pupils swirling hypnotically, laughter bubbling from his lips like music.

"Y/N!!" both Luffys shouted at once when they saw you.

You took an instinctive step back.

"Nope," Zoro said immediately, reaching for his swords.

"Is it a mirror fruit?!" Usopp yelped.

"Did the Captain eat himself?!" Chopper wailed, clinging to Sanji's leg.

Robin tilted her head, studying the scene with polite interest. "Fascinating..."

Franky just laughed, "SUUUUPER confusing!"

"Focus!!" Jinbei barked, trying to corral the chaos.

But it was already too late. Both Luffys made a beeline for you, tripping over each other and crashing into your legs like toddlers desperate for attention.

Nami pressed two fingers to her temple. "I need a raise," she muttered.

You quickly learned that having two Luffys was both better and worse than you could imagine.

Better, because they were extra affectionate — offering you food, carrying your things, cheering whenever you smiled.

Worse, because they were in full competition mode.

Gear5!Luffy (as Chopper breathlessly called him) kept showing off — stretching his limbs into ridiculous cartoonish shapes, bouncing around like a rubber band on crack, pulling faces until you doubled over laughing.

"Look, Y/N!" he crowed one afternoon, turning his whole head into a massive heart, complete with a squeaky heartbeat sound.

Normal Luffy was no slouch either. He stuck to his strengths — stubbornness and sincerity.

"I don't need crazy powers," he told you solemnly, handing you a slightly squashed rice ball he'd made himself. "I'm already the best for Y/N!"

You bit into the rice ball, smiling despite yourself.

Meanwhile, the crew took sides — shamelessly.

"I bet the crazy one wins!" Franky announced loudly.

"No way," Sanji scoffed. "Y/N deserves normalcy."

"Technically," Robin mused, "both versions are Luffy."

"Yeah, but one’s glowing," Usopp said. "Glowing automatically makes you cooler."

Zoro snorted. "Idiots."

Brook just laughed. "Yohoho! Twice the Captain, twice the chaos!"

You wanted to protest — this isn’t a contest! — but then you’d look up and catch two sets of hopeful, sparkling eyes gazing at you, and the words would die on your tongue.

At first, it was cute.

They followed you everywhere — two shadows glued to your heels. They fought over who got to sit next to you at dinner, who got to carry your stuff during island stops, who could make you laugh harder.

Gear5!Luffy once turned the entire galley into a giant bouncy castle trying to impress you. Sanji screamed for three hours cleaning it up.

Normal Luffy responded by dragging you up the mast one night, pointing proudly at the sea of stars and whispering, "I wanted you to see somethin' only I can reach."

You sat there, high above the world, heart hammering against your ribs, wondering how you were supposed to choose between them.

But the tipping point came one evening.

The crew was gathered on deck — a rare, peaceful moment under a pink-streaked sky. Dinner plates were scattered everywhere, Brook strumming a soft tune on his violin.

You leaned against the railing, smiling at the sight.

Then — disaster.

Gear5!Luffy and Normal Luffy both lunged at you at once, trying to hand you a flower they'd picked from a nearby island.

Their arms tangled. They tripped. And with a yelp, they toppled overboard — dragging you with them.

The splash was enormous.

You resurfaced, spluttering and coughing, the two Luffys flailing beside you.

"Y/N!! Are you okay?!" they shrieked in perfect unison.

From the deck, Sanji was screaming bloody murder.

"YOU IDIOTS!! YOU COULD'VE DROWNED THEM!!"

Chopper was already tossing a lifesaver. Usopp was sobbing dramatically. Zoro just sighed, clearly contemplating letting you all drown to solve the problem.

Somehow, you all clambered back aboard, dripping wet and exhausted.

You sat there, shivering slightly, as the two Luffys crowded you again, guilt written all over their faces.

"I’m sorry," Normal Luffy whispered.

"Me too," Gear5!Luffy mumbled, his glow dimming.

You sighed heavily, wringing out your clothes. "You guys can’t keep fighting over me. You’re the same person, you know?"

They blinked at you.

"You both care about me. I care about you too. But... not if you hurt each other."

The deck fell silent.

Then, very slowly, the two Luffys turned — and smacked their foreheads together in a show of stubborn apology.

Thump.

You couldn't help it — you burst out laughing.

The tension shattered instantly. The crew joined in, cheering and clapping, Brook playing a jaunty tune.

"Looks like the Captain(s) learned their lesson," Robin said, smiling.

"Finally," Jinbei rumbled, folding his arms.

"Can we have just one Luffy now?" Nami pleaded.

You grinned, ruffling both Luffys' wet hair. "I'll take both for now."

They beamed at you — two idiots, one heart.

That night, you fell asleep curled between them on the deck, watching the stars wheel overhead.

For the first time in days, everything felt peaceful again.

You woke to soft snoring against your shoulder.

Blinking sleepily, you sat up — and found just one Luffy curled against you, straw hat sliding down to cover his eyes.

His hair was black again.

No swirling pupils. No crazy glow.

Just your Luffy.

You stared at him for a long moment, heart pounding in your chest.

The rest of the crew was stirring around the deck, yawning and stretching.

"Looks like whatever split him wore off overnight," Chopper said, checking Luffy’s vitals. "His heartbeat’s normal again."

"Amen," Sanji muttered, dragging a broom across the ruined galley.

Zoro shot you a sidelong look. "Guess you don’t have to choose anymore, huh?"

You smiled softly, brushing Luffy’s hair back from his forehead.

"No," you murmured, "I already chose."

Because whether he was wild or serious, glowing or not — he was still Luffy.

Yours.

Always.

And even if he didn’t remember everything that happened while split... The way he instinctively curled closer to you in his sleep said enough.

You leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead.

"Idiot," you whispered fondly. "I love you too."

The sun rose over the horizon, golden and bright, as the Thousand Sunny sailed on, carrying you, your crew, and the boy who had somehow, impossibly, stolen your heart twice over.