in which you get mad at Luffy for the very first time after he accepted the Davy Back Fight against the Foxy Pirates. Because he's reckless, and a hot-head, and also because you're far too devoted to him to even think about losing him
prompts. mutual affection, Reader is a Straw Hat, fem pronouns for Reader, Reader is in love with Luffy, set between Long Ring Long Land and Water 7, Usopp vs. Luffy mentioned, light angst, hurt and comfort, Luffy vs. Aokiji, affectionate Luffy, Luffy being oblivious, romance, fluff and angst, sad Luffy
word count 2.2k
This is your first time getting truly mad at him. Oh of course he got on your nerves many, many times. Because Luffy - your captain - is a hot-head to the core.
But you could never, ever get truly mad at Luffy.…
Until today.
«C’mon, (Y/N)! We won, come celebrate!» Luffy cheers, his smile as beaming as ever.
«Forget it! I’m going back to the Going Merry!» you march off, hands clenched into fists as you growl angrily.
«Okay! We’ll catch up later!» Luffy waves you off cluelessly, and that makes your blood boil even more.
«Whatever!» you shout at him without looking back.
«Aren’t you an idiot» Nami, who saw the scene, scolds him with a punch on his shoulder.
«Ow? Why?!» Luffy whines.
«She has every right to be mad! You just accepted without thinking about it and--»
Nami’s voice fades in the background as you walk away. Angry tears prickle at the corner of your eyes. You climb back up to the ship and go straight to your room, slamming the door behind you.
«What a fucking idiot!» you exclaim to yourself before curling up in your hammock and letting out a scream in your pillow.
The Davy Back Fight against the Foxy Pirates. That’s what got you so worked up.
You’re well aware that Luffy is always the one to dive head first into anything that proposes itself as an adventure. Or a new experience of some sorts. And you were okay with it.
You even followed him without batting an eye when he suggested going up a deadly stream to reach an island in the sky that you weren’t even that sure existed. Something that had nothing to do with finding the One Piece.
But running the risk of losing your nakamas, just to entertain yourself with a weird looking pirate who came out of nowhere…
Of course, in the end you won and Chopper was taken back. But you still couldn’t shake the anger you felt towards Luffy for accepting in the first place.
The idea of losing your captain himself terrified you. More than any creature, savage island or foe you encountered until now on your journey with the Straw Hats. Because you liked Luffy more than anything.
You were far too in love with him to contemplate going on on your journey without him. And without Luffy, who would keep you company at night when you were on duty? Would you ever be capable of sitting on the head of the Merry again, a spot he shared only if you were by his side?
The thought alone made you feel helpless. And seeing Chopper almost get taken away from you forever made you even more angered towards Luffy.
For the first time, his smile isn’t contagious.
You didn’t come back to the Merry to sleep, more to keep yourself from punching Luffy in the face, but exhaustion catches up to you. Both due to the challenges of the Foxy Pirates, and the pent up frustration towards the situation you just got out of because of your captain’s recklessness.
So, without even trying to stay awake, your eyelids flutter close and you swiftly fall asleep.
«Wake up! (Y/N)- you need to wake up now!»
Your profound sleep is abruptly interrupted by the sensation of someone pulling at your wrist. It’s Nami. You don’t need to fully wake up to realize that something’s wrong. Her face gives it away. Her cheeks are blushed red and her eyes are full of a deep, concerning panic.
«Nami- what’s wrong?!» your voice trembles.
«It’s the Navy. One of their admirals came all the way here and he…Robin-» Nami is barely capable of putting words together, so you just hurriedly follow her as you hold onto her hand.
She takes you to the Merry bathrooms in a rush, you want to ask her more about this admiral but you quickly understand that this is no time to ask questions. And you find your confirmation when you see the figure in front of you. Robin is completely frozen, not even an inch of her skin is spared. Chopper is frantically rubbing her arm with a warm, wet towel as Usopp helps him.
«Please, (Y/N)! Take some hot water and a towel before she goes in necrosis!» Chopper yelps, voice half broken.
You immediately hurry to Robin’s side, careful not to touch her. You can still feel the coldness emanate from her, grazing your skin. You shiver.
Usopp, although terrified, explains to you what’s happening. He tells you about Navy Admiral Aokiji and his ice powers, probably from a Devil Fruit. And the things he said about Robin before trying to kill her and get rid of them all. As you rub Robin’s frozen arm up and down with hot water, a question hits you. You stop for a second and turn around towards Usopp with an anguish he never saw and your face, ever.
«Wait, where’s Luffy?»
———
Hours later, the Going Merry is now placidly swaying on the moon-kissed waves. The night is calm and silent, compared to the chaotic day you just went through.
Luffy’s head is laying on your lap, his spiky jet black hair wet and sticking to his forehead. You caress them away, fingertips lingering on his still cold skin. You spent hours with your crew melting the ice off of Robin and Luffy. The moment you saw Luffy covered in ice, your legs gave up and your lips let out an horrified scream. But then you did everything you could do to save him. Because you spent the entire day thinking about how much you couldn’t afford to lose him. And not just in a Davy Back Fight.
Luffy is now sleeping soundly on your lap. He looks soft when sleeping. His face is relaxed, lips parted. You rarely see him like this. He’s so beautiful.
But why does he always have to be like this? Accepting fights from strangers when avoidable, ordering everyone to run away so that he can fight the enemy alone. You know that he did so also to avenge the weird old man and his horse that got shot. But still, it could have gone bad.
Zoro walks inside the room carrying another towel and a bucket of hot water. Without a word he soaks the towel, squeezes it and then starts rubbing it along Luffy’s leg.
«His legs are still a little cold, if you want I can take care of him. You should rest» the swordsman says, looking at you.
You look up at Zoro, smiling calmly at him.
«Don’t worry, I’m not tired yet. I can look after him a bit more» you say.
«And yet, you’re still mad at him»
Zoro said so with a little smirk. You, on the other hand, are caught off guard. How does he know?
«I don’t know what you’re talking about» you say, dismissively.
«C’mon» Zoro says, resuming to warm up Luffy «I know you were pissed off at him for the Davy Back Fight. And it doesn’t matter if you still give him doe eyes now, you’re still angry at him»
You wanna retort with some sort of snarky comment, but you can’t come up with anything. Zoro is right.
«And so, am I wrong?» you say, resuming to run your fingers through Luffy’s hair.
«No» Zoro says «but that’s what you get when you decide to set sail with Monkey D. Luffy»
You look up at him, eyebrows furrowing.
«Going through unnecessary challenges that could cost you a crew member? I thought we were searching the One Piece» you finally come up with the snarky response you were desperately looking for.
But Zoro seems unphased. He chuckles a little as he shakes his head.
«Freedom»
The answer leaves you speechless. You just nod when Zoro passes you the warm towel and asks you to run it through his face and neck. You comply and bite your lower lip.
Zoro props himself up and is about to exit the room. But he stops. He doesn’t turn around.
«Listen. You won’t always be on the same page as Luffy. Hell, nobody knows what goes through his head and half of his decisions are driven by heart. Luffy accepted because he didn’t even consider losing, and yeah, he’s an idiot for that. He’s an idiot for also trying to take up a Navy Admiral with powers like those all alone.
But more than an idiot, he’s something else. More than an idiot, more than a pirate, Luffy is free. You can reject him for that and walk away, or you can stay. But if you decide to stand by him, just know that more than anything, Luffy is a free man. And that doesn’t mean that he doesn’t care about you, or us. So, have faith in him»
Zoro closes the door behind him. You’re left alone with Luffy, still sleeping peacefully. You stopped caressing his hair and your hand lies on his cold cheek. Your thumb strokes his cheekbone twice. The first time, hoping that he could feel even in sleep that you care about him.
The second time, to wipe away one of your tears that dropped on his scar.
A few days went by, and Luffy recovered completely. The moment he woke up, he darted outside his arm with arms wide open, making an impression of himself when he got frozen.
Safe to say you didn’t laugh. Not in front of him at least. You hid your smile behind you, and then walked away. Luffy gave up the act and ran up to you, wrapping his gummy arms around your frame two or three times. He rubbed your cheek against yours, beaming.
«Aren’t you happy to see me, (Y/N)?» he asked, moving his cheek up and down against yours.
You looked away dismissively, but cupped his head with your free hand.
«Yeah, nice to have you back»
He didn’t notice the sheer coldness in your voice, the way you didn’t even look at him. He just unswirled himself from you and bounced over to the others.
The next few days, spent traveling towards Water 7, go by in the same way. Trying to distance yourself.
Nami noticed, tried to ask you about it but you just shrugged and said that nothing about Luffy was bothering you.
You thought that he didn’t notice, that he was too dense to do so.
Until one night, at dinner when you didn’t feel like eating, you saw a stretchy arm extend a plate of meat towards you. Everyone turned around in shock, you included. Silence fell down at the table.
«If you’re so hungry that you’re upset, have some. Only one tho» and Luffy resumed eating like a savage.
You didn’t even have the guts to yell at him that you weren’t upset because you were hungry, but that you were upset because he really is a free man and you don’t know how you will cope if his freedom one day takes him away from you and that’s why you’re keeping a distance. And also you’re still a bit pissed off about the Davy Back Fight.
Instead of yelling at him, you just sat in silence and thank him with a murmur. He never shared his food with anyone.
«Oi, Luffy, I’m really upset too y’know—» Usopp said, his hand reaching for Luffy’s plate before being slapped away with an angry growl by your captain.
—
It’s a silent, sad night in Water 7. You tossed and turned in your bed, incapable of sleeping. You shed a few tears too. Today it’s the first time you really felt like the crew was splitting.
Robin disappeared once you set food in the city, you still weren’t capable of smiling at Luffy and Usopp just left the crew after the news of the Going Merry being irreparable and fighting your captain.
Anguish is consuming you, so you decide to get dressed and go out on the balcony of the inn for some fresh air.
The night sky is flawless, stars punctuate the blue sheet of the Universe and the sound of waves hitting the canals soothes you.
Outside, you find someone else who couldn’t sleep. Luffy.
He was perched up on the balcony railing, giving you his back. Unsure, you take a few steps towards him.
«Say, (Y/N)»
You jolt a little in surprise. You thought he didn’t notice your presence. But you recompose yourself quickly, and walk towards him. You rest your elbows on the balcony, right next to Luffy. He doesn’t look at you. His eyes are half-shadowed under his straw hat but you sense the pure discomfort and…hurt in them.
He’s really hurting.
«Tell me» you reply, calmly.
«Are you gonna leave me too?»
You’re sure you’ve heard his voice breaking a little. But he still looks as serious as ever. Your lips press against each other, trying not to break down crying. So you just climb over the railing and sit next to him. He doesn’t move away from you.
«What makes you think that?» you say.
He doesn’t say anything for a few seconds.
«I don’t know. But whatever has been making you mad these days, I don’t want it to make you leave the crew»
Slowly, and with your heart beating fast, you lean your head on his shoulder. You close your eyes, and you feel Luffy stay still.
«What would really make me upset is losing my nakamas, Luffy. So no, I won’t let go. Not the crew, and most importantly, not you»
Luffy doesn’t need to say anything. You understand everything he has to say to you when you feel his straw hat pressing against the top of your head. You stay there, contemplating the night, your head on his shoulder, his head against yours.
You stop distancing yourself from Luffy, because you never wanna let go.
Synopsis: What happens when the pirates raid a treasure site and find a cat there too?
Pairing: Marco x Fem!Reader, Shanks x Fem!Reader.
Content warning: Fluff, disabilities (deafness and inability to speak), most of it will be platonic, maybe I will spark a little romance here and there because why not, major tomfoolery, a couple of innuendos but nothing too serious, canon violence (plus scratching, biting, just cat stuff), kidnapping, mentions of trauma, a bit of angst but it ends well.
Author’s note: English is not my first language.
Each crew will have a cat with a different fur color, I know that’s not very self insert of me, but dude, I don’t know, imagine you’re wearing a wig or something 😔.
Did I write this the night before a job interview because I was too nervous to sleep? Yeah. Did I get the job? Well, I just hope I get through the interview without fumbling in my third language 😭.
Mini update: I THINK I GOT THE JOB!!!
Also, @dragonanon I hope you enjoy this :)
It was simply a matter of her being in the right place at the right time, napping on top of a treasure chest when a group of pirates barged in. Naturally, they took everything with them—including the cat sleeping on the chest.
Straw Hats — Orange cat
Luffy had beef with the cat. He spotted her lounging on top of a treasure chest, tail flicking like she owned the place, and decided to yank it open without so much as nudging her off. Not his brightest move—not by a long shot.
The second he cracked the lid, the cat launched herself at him, claws out, hissing like a tiny, furry demon.
It was a full-on cat brawl, utterly pointless since Luffy’s rubber body just bounced her attacks right back. Still, she went for it, scratching and yowling like she could actually win.
When Luffy finally pried her off, she skidded back, arched her back, fur puffed up, and shot him a glare that could’ve melted steel. Luffy, being Luffy, just grinned, completely unbothered. “Heh, you’ve got guts! I like you!” he declared, eyes sparkling with that reckless admiration he reserves for anyone—human, animal, or otherwise—who dares to challenge him.
“Do you wanna join my crew?” he asked, not five minutes after meeting this hissing ball of orange fury, who was still glaring at him with all the spite in the world. Classic Luffy—zero logic, all heart. The cat hissed again, louder, but he just laughed it off, scooping the chest over one shoulder and the cat over the other like she was a sack of flour.
The poor thing was terrified. This stretchy, grinning lunatic who couldn’t be scratched and smiled brighter than the sun itself had just kidnapped her.
Worse, she was a Zoan Devil Fruit user—a cat Zoan, to be exact—who’d been dodging pirates and Marines her whole life to avoid exactly this kind of chaos. Now she was being dragged into the heart of it.
On the ship, she met the crew, and—oh boy—what a crew. A blue-nosed reindeer doctor, a living skeleton strumming a guitar, a cyborg with a pompadour, and a fish-man bigger than most houses. Were these the circus pirates? No, wait, those were Buggy’s clowns.
So who the hell were these weirdos?
It clicked when she saw the flag—a skull with a straw hat.
The Straw Hats. She’d heard whispers of their insanity but hadn’t thought of Luffy as the Straw Hat Luffy. Rookie mistake.
She was about to go full human, scare the daylights out of them, and bolt—until a gentle hand started scratching behind her ears. Her defenses crumbled instantly. She melted, purring without shame, as Nami and Robin took turns petting her. Nami cooed, “Oh, you’re just a little sweetheart, aren’t you?” while Robin smiled that serene, knowing smile of hers. The cat was weak for them.
Luffy, of course, opened his big mouth again. “Oi, we’ve got a new crewmate! The Straw Hats need an official pet—y’know, besides Chopper!”
“Wha—?!” Chopper squeaked, flailing. “I’m not a pet, you idiot!”
Zoro cracked one eye open from his nap, glancing at the orange fluffball being smothered with love by Nami and Robin. “What’s he yammering about now?” he muttered, clearly unimpressed.
Sanji swooped in, hearts in his eyes. “Oh, what a darling creature! So elegant, so refined! What shall we name this lovely lady?” He was already imagining gourmet cat treats.
“MEAT!” Luffy shouted, and the cat—offended on a spiritual level—sank her teeth into his arm. “Ow! You’re a meanie!” he whined, shaking her off, but his grin didn’t falter.
“To be fair, that’s a terrible name,” Sanji said, adjusting his tie with a smirk. The cat decided she liked this guy. He got it.
Nami tilted her head, studying the cat’s orange fur. “She’s orange, so… how about Orange? Simple and cute.”
It was a basic name, but it came from Nami, so the cat let it slide. She flicked her tail in approval, and Nami beamed.
“Let me see, let me see!” Chopper bounced up and down, starry-eyed. Usopp and Franky leaned in from one side, while Brook and Jinbe peered from the other, all curious about the new “crewmate.”
“Orange, huh? Yo ho ho! Her soul shines like a sunny chord!” Brook said, strumming an imaginary riff. “I can already hear her song!”
“Oranges are tasty,” Luffy added, drooling. “Oi, Sanji, make some orange juice! And meat!”
“You just ate, you bottomless pit!” Sanji snapped. “And who mixes orange juice with meat?!”
A week passed, and the cat could’ve revealed her Zoan secret any time. But she was mischievous—and honestly, too comfy. She decided to test if these weirdos would ever figure it out. Spoiler: they didn’t.
So she leaned into the domestic cat life, and—damn—she loved it.
She still had beef with Luffy. Just when she started warming up to his chaotic charm, he’d get too clingy—smothering her in hugs—or say something so monumentally stupid she’d hiss and swipe at him. Her scratches did nothing but make him laugh harder, which pissed her off even more. She’d storm off, tail high, throwing him the nastiest glare she could muster.
She gravitated toward the chill ones: Robin, Jinbe, and the king of not giving a damn—Zoro. Zoro was her favorite, purely because he didn’t care. In cat language, that was love. She’d nap on his chest while he dozed on the deck, his steady breathing like a lullaby. Every now and then, he’d give her a lazy pat, like a begrudging dad. Once, he even offered her sake. She lapped it up—because, y’know, human taste buds—and Zoro didn’t bat an eye when she got tipsy, sprawled out next to him. “Heh, you’re alright,” he muttered, clinking his bottle against her paw.
Robin was her queen, her everything. The woman could summon a hand from nowhere to scratch just the right spot, turning the cat into a purring puddle. Franky, on the other hand, was peak dad energy—awkward at first, poking her like she was a science experiment. “Yo, what’s with this thing?” he’d mumble. But soon, he and Usopp were crafting SUPER cat toys—laser pointers, spring-loaded fish—playing with her on the deck. She acted aloof but secretly loved it, especially when their faces lit up.
Usopp was obsessed with her. He’d ramble on about his “legendary adventures” while tinkering, glancing at her like she was his personal hype man. She’d sit there, tail swishing, letting him feel important. Truth be told, she found his pathetic charm oddly endearing.
Sanji? Her prince. He’d whip up gourmet dishes—for a cat—presenting them with a flourish. “For you, my dear Orange, a delicate fish mousse with a hint of saffron!” She’d purr like an engine, even if he just smiled at her. The man was too sweet for his own good.
Jinbe was a saga of its own. Early on, her Zoan brain saw “giant fish-man” and thought, snack time. She chomped his arm, expecting a fishy treat. Jinbe didn’t even flinch—just lifted her, still dangling from his skin, and asked calmly, “What are you doing?” His zen vibe made her cringe at her own stupidity.
Luffy’s rubbing off on me, she thought.
She meowed an apology, and Jinbe just smiled, all sharp teeth and warmth. From then on, she couldn’t be mean to him. His hugs were like being wrapped in the ocean—safe, warm, and grounding.
Nami went full cat mom, planting orange trees next to her tangerines to “honor” her new pet. She’d spoil Orange with collars, bows, and little hats, cooing, “You’re too cute for this ship!” The cat ate it all up.
Brook was… extra. He treated her like a person, not a pet. He’d play ballads for her, once even slow-dancing with her—lifting her gently, holding one paw, and swaying across the deck. “Yo ho ho, such a graceful partner!” She humored him, mostly because he gifted her a tiny top hat that matched his. When she meowed in delight, Brook did a little jig, overjoyed.
The reveal came during peak Straw Hat nonsense. Luffy, Usopp, and Chopper were dumb enough to try waking Zoro from a nap to “test his reflexes.” Spoiler: bad idea. The cat watched from the railing, tail flicking, as Zoro grabbed Luffy by the neck and pinned him to the wall with a murderous glare. Usopp and Chopper bolted, screaming. The cat, distracted, slipped and muttered, “Damn, we’re hitting new levels of stupid here.”
The deck went silent.
Realizing her mistake, she sighed—poof—and transformed. A redheaded woman, like autumn in human form, sat on the railing with a sheepish grin. “Whoops.”
“NO WAY!” Luffy’s eyes bulged, sparkling with excitement. “You’re a person! That’s SO COOL! You’re definitely joining now!”
“You’re… not a cat?” Sanji’s jaw dropped, then hearts filled his eyes. “BUT A RADIANT GODDESS! Oh, my autumnal muse, your beauty is like fallen leaves dancing in the breeze!” He leaned against the railing, swooning.
She blinked, flustered. Zoro, still gripping Luffy, just growled, “Oi, you idiots made the cat talk. Now disappear before I slice you.”
After the shock wore off, the crew treated her the same—cat or human.
Whitebeard Pirates — White Cat
Ace found her sprawled atop a treasure chest, snoozing like she owned the place. Classic Ace — didn’t even hesitate. He scooped up the cat, grinning wide, and hugged her like she was his long-lost sister.
In his head, this was a brilliant plan.
The cat, though? Terrified. She clawed at Ace’s chest, leaving red streaks as she bolted, tail fluffed up like a bottlebrush. Poor thing was scared out of her wits, heart pounding from the sudden wake-up call.
What Ace didn’t know — and let’s be real, he’s not the sharpest when it comes to details — was that the cat was deaf. Getting yanked from her cozy nap by a shirtless pyromaniac? That’s the stuff of kitty nightmares.
Later, Ace tried a gentler approach. He crouched down, speaking slowly, flashing that big, goofy grin of his. The cat, wary as hell, took cautious steps toward him. Only when she realized he wasn’t gonna eat her did she relax, bumping her head against his leg with a meow so loud it could wake the dead. Ace, being Ace, didn’t care about the volume — he just laughed, “That’s my girl!”
Now, Ace was a dog guy through and through, always rambling about some scrappy mutt he’d befriended on an island somewhere. But five minutes with this white fluffball? Done. Smitten. He was calling her “my little princess” once he figured out she was female, cooing in that ridiculous baby-talk voice he swore he’d never use.
No shame, not even a hint.
Thatch, of course, lost it. “Oi, Fire Fist, you’re embarrassing yourself!” he cackled. He mocked Ace into the next dimension, but — plot twist — Thatch was just as bad. One meow, and the Fourth Division Commander was a goner, sneaking her bits of fish and muttering, “Who’s a good girl, huh?”
The two idiots marched straight to Whitebeard, doing the classic “can we keep it?” routine, like kids begging for a pet. Ace was practically bouncing, and Thatch was trying to play it cool but failing miserably.
Whitebeard, towering on his throne-like chair, squinted down at them. He could go one of two ways — either he’d melt for the cat like he did for every stray his crew dragged in, or he’d pull the full Dad Act.
“You can keep it, but I ain’t cleaning up after it,” he rumbled, sipping his sake.
Or maybe, “I don’t like cats. Never have. Keep that thing away from me.”
Spoiler: by week’s end, Pops was caught red-handed, petting the cat with one massive finger, a pink ribbon collar dangling from his other hand.
The cat, though, had a secret. She wasn’t just a cat — she was a Zoan Devil Fruit user, soaking up the crew’s affection while dodging the one guy who’d clock her instantly: Marco. For a whole week, she managed to unintentionally avoid the First Division Commander, slinking through shadows or napping in places his lazy ass wouldn’t bother checking. Lucky for her, Marco was too busy stitching up the crew after their latest raid to notice Ace’s “new pet.”
But Marco’s no slouch. His Observation Haki pinged her the second he laid eyes on her. Zoan vibes? Oh, he knew.
He just didn’t expect her to straight-up ignore him when he called out. She was strutting across the Moby Dick’s deck, tail high, not even twitching at his voice.
Vibrations from footsteps? Sure, she felt those — but Marco talking? Nope.
So, Marco, being Marco, took it personally. “Oi, yoi,” he drawled, grabbing her by the scruff and hoisting her to eye level. Those piercing blue eyes — half-lidded but sharp as hell — locked onto her. “Why’re you ignoring me, huh?”
The cat froze, wide-eyed, freaking out. Not only was she dangling like a sack of potatoes, but this pineapple-headed guy was staring through her soul like he knew her game.
Which, yeah, he kinda did.
“I know you’re not just a cat, yoi. Quit playing,” he said, voice calm but firm.
She stared at his lips, confused, not responding. Marco noticed, raised an eyebrow, and then — poof — she transformed. A woman in a flowing white dress, snow-white hair cascading down, still awkwardly held midair until Marco set her down, muttering, “Tch, sorry, yoi.”
“Now, explain yourself before I drag you to Pops,” he said, arms crossed.
She frowned, hesitated, then started signing. Marco’s jaw dropped. Deaf. That’s why she ignored him. That’s why she was glued to his lips. “You’re deaf, yoi?” he asked, slower this time, enunciating clearly.
She nodded.
“But you can read lips, right?” Another nod. “Alright, that makes things less complicated.”
She gestured that she could write, and scribbled out her story: she’d planned to reveal herself, but the crew’s overwhelming love — Ace’s hugs, Thatch’s treats, even Jozu’s goofy toy-chasing sessions — sucked her in. She was living the high life as their spoiled princess. Marco sighed, running a hand through his hair.
She looked nervous, clearly worried about being hauled to Whitebeard for judgment. Marco softened. “Relax. You’re not in trouble — yet. But you’re coming to dinner tonight, human form, and spilling the beans.”
That night, the mess hall went dead silent when Marco strolled in with a white-haired woman, blue eyes glinting like the cat’s, pink ribbon still tied around her neck.
Marco, the eternal workaholic who’d rather nap than flirt, with a girl? Thatch nearly choked on his rice.
“Oi, where’s my cat?!” he bellowed, storming in and pointing at Thatch. “You stole her, didn’t you, you bastard?”
“She’s right here, moron,” Marco deadpanned, gesturing to the woman.
Silence.
Then a shy wave from her, a silent “hi”.
“No freakin’ way,” Ace gasped. “You turned my cat into a human?!”
“Do I look like I’ve got that kinda power, yoi?” Marco shot back, rolling his eyes. “She’s a Zoan user, you idiot.”
“GURARARARA!” Whitebeard’s laugh shook the ship. “The lass fooled us all, pretending to be a regular cat! What’s your excuse, girl?”
She glanced at Marco, who translated for her. “Pops, she’s deaf. Can’t hear a thing, yoi.”
“MY POOR BABY!” Ace wailed, diving across the table to hug her, not caring one bit about her human form. “You’re still my little princess!” She froze, then melted into the hug, relieved the crew wasn’t mad. If anything, they were more obsessed.
From then on, she was family.
She preferred her cat form — it just felt right — and the crew treated her the same either way. Ace slept with her curled on his chest, snoring like a thunderstorm, but since she couldn’t hear, she was the only one that could actually stand sleeping next to him.
Jozu, tough as diamond, crouched to dangle strings for her. Namur crafted cat toys from driftwood. Haruta teased her relentlessly until she’d shift to human form, cross her arms, and scowl at him to knock it off.
Thatch whipped up gourmet fish dishes, making sure she could see his lips as he bragged, “Only the best for our princess!”
Marco, Izou, Vista, and Whitebeard took a chiller approach — the kind that made her, in cat logic, gravitate to them. Whitebeard, post his “I hate cats” phase, loved her napping on his shoulder, stroking her with a finger the size of a log. When Marco told him white cats with blue eyes were often doomed to be deaf and extra reliant on humans due to genetics, Pops got misty-eyed. “Poor thing needs us, then,” he muttered.
Marco, though, bonded with her human side. One day, he stunned her by signing a few shaky sentences — he’d been practicing, the nerd. Her eyes lit up, and she was hooked.
She often teased him with a doodle of a cat chomping a bird, but Marco flipped it on her, smirking, “Hunter or prey, I’m still the one in charge, yoi.”
And just like that she would become a flustered mess.
He was gentle, though — scolding Ace for startling her, teaching the crew basic signs, even keeping tabs on her health since white cats were prone to health issues.
He made her feel safe, loved, seen.
Vista, ever the romantic, wove her tiny flower crowns, plopping them on her head with a fatherly pat before walking off like it was nothing.
Izou? Total diva. He’d dress her up in Wano-style ribbons, smirking, “You’re too pretty to be a plain alley cat.” The crew always knew when Izou’d been at her — she’d strut around looking like a samurai’s pet.
In the end, the Whitebeard Pirates were over the moon to have their cat — human or not — aboard the Moby Dick. She was their princess, their mascot, their family. And she? She was just happy to bask in the chaos and love of the world’s wildest crew.
Red Hair Pirates — Tuxedo Cat
Like father, like son, Shanks’ first run-in with the cat was, to put it mildly, a total shipwreck. At least he didn’t get clawed to bits like Luffy—just spectacularly annoyed.
The little beast woke up before Shanks could startle her into the next universe, perched atop the treasure chest like she owned it, locking eyes with him. Her squint was so sharp it felt like she was peering straight through his Haki, sizing up his soul.
“Oi, furball, that’s my treasure!” Shanks barked, his voice booming with that mix of authority and mischief only an Emperor of the Sea could muster, his red hair practically bristling with indignation.
The cat? She yawned, flicked her tail, and started licking her paw with the kind of swagger that said, “You? Impress me.”
“OI! I SAID GET OFF!” Shanks leaned in, pointing at her.
The cat paused, mid-lick, and—Shanks would swear on Davy Jones’ locker—stuck her tongue out at him. A human-level taunt that hit like a Sea King’s tail to the gut. “How dare you?!” he roared, hand flying to Gryphon’s hilt. “I’m Red-Haired Shanks, Emperor of the Sea! I stop wars! I—OI, DON’T YOU DARE IGNORE ME!”
By now, Shanks was full-on dueling a cat in a war of wills. When Benn Beckman strolled up, he took one look at the scene—a forty-something pirate legend waving his sword at a tiny black-and-white feline who looked bored out of her mind—and sighed.
“What in the New World are you doing, Captain?” Benn asked, his voice dripping with the exhaustion of a man who’d babysat this nonsense far too long.
“I will not be disrespected by some fancy-pants cat!” Shanks declared, swinging Gryphon again—missing the cat entirely, who didn’t even blink.
The cat leapt off the chest, dodging Shanks like he was a clumsy rookie, and sauntered over to Benn without a glance back. She bumped her head against his leg, purring like she’d found her new best friend. This guy? Calm, collected, not a red-haired lunatic yelling about emperors and wars. Benn crouched, scooping her up to inspect the creature his captain was losing his mind over. Just a cat, meowing softly, looking harmless.
“You’re saying you won’t stand for disrespect… from a cat?” Benn raised an eyebrow, cradling the purring feline.
“I’m telling you, Benn, that thing’s got devil eyes!” Shanks jabbed a finger at the cat, who was now nuzzling into Benn’s hand.
“Devil eyes? She’s adorable, you lunatic,” Benn said, setting her down. The cat, clearly smitten, bumped her head against his leg again, tail high. “Playful little thing, aren’t you?” Benn muttered, scratching her ears. She purred louder, practically vibrating with smug satisfaction.
Shanks stomped past, visibly irked that the cat was cozying up to his first mate. “Yeah, yeah, we get it—she likes you.”
“Jealous, Captain?” Benn smirked, catching the sulky edge in Shanks’ voice.
“Not a chance,” Shanks huffed like a sulky kid.
To twist the knife, the cat flopped onto her back, showing her belly to Benn—the ultimate feline trust move. Benn chuckled, scratching her tummy. “Think I might keep her.”
Now, neither of them had clocked that this cat was no ordinary feline—she was a Zoan user, wielding a Devil Fruit that let her shift between human and cat forms. Maybe she shouldn’t have leaned so hard into the pet life, purring for head scratches and acting adorable to get better treats, but Benn’s gentle scratching was too good to pass up. She decided to play along, curious if these rowdy pirates would ever catch on.
When she met the rest of the Red Hair Pirates, their sheer presence took her breath away.
These weren’t small-time sailors. They were rough, rowdy, capable of sinking fleets with a single blink. And the red-haired lunatic she’d been toying with? That was Shanks, the Red-Haired Yonko, Akaige no Shanks, a man whose name made the New World tremble. All that talk about ending wars and ruling the seas? Not just hot air—every word was true.
And she didn’t give a single damn.
Shanks kept treating her like a rival, bickering as if she were Kaido himself instead of a cat. She loved how easily she could rile him up without saying a word—just a flick of her tail or a smug yawn sent him into a spiral.
The crew found it hilarious. Yasopp cackled so hard he nearly choked on his grog, and Lucky Roux got in on it, mimicking Shanks’ dramatic sword swings while clutching a chicken leg. “Oi, Captain, she’s got you beat!” Roux roared, slapping his knee.
Slowly, though, Shanks’ grudge started to crack.
One day, the cat was sprawled on the deck outside his quarters, soaking up the afternoon sun, belly up, not a care in the world. She felt a towering shadow loom over her and cracked an eye open, squinting. Shanks. Great. Another pointless showdown with the red-haired idiot—except it wasn’t even a fight, just him being his loud, stupid self.
But Shanks looked… calm. Hazy from a nap, hair a mess, eyes half-lidded like he’d just rolled out of a hammock. He plopped down beside her, surprisingly quiet, and she tensed, waiting for him to explode into some nonsense about “Emperor of the Sea pride.” But he didn’t.
Maybe this was when he’d finally try to toss her overboard.
Instead, he just started petting her. Out of nowhere.
Oh.
Oh.
This was… actually really nice.
She couldn’t help it—she started purring, loud and unashamed. Shanks’ face lit up, his grudge melting into acceptance. “You’re not so bad, furball,” he said, scratching behind her ears.
She got bolder, climbing into his lap, curling up for warmth as he kept petting her. “Actually, you’re not bad at all,” he chuckled, completely smitten.
The man was hooked.
Shanks declared her an official Red Hair Pirate, slapping a collar on her with his Jolly Roger etched in, grinning like he’d recruited a new sniper. Though Benn was the one who’d taken her in, he barely got a moment with her—Shanks monopolized her like she was his personal treasure. He’d parade her around ports, hoisting her up like a trophy. “Behold, my cat!” he’d bellow, as if Benn wasn’t the one feeding her and dragging her to Hongo for checkups.
Hongo, grumbling about not being a vet, still gave her the full doctor treatment, muttering, “If I can patch up you idiots, I can handle a cat.”
Benn, ever the doting cat dad, made sure she was fed and even bought her a red bow tie. “Tuxedo cat’s gotta be a boss or a magician,” he mused, tying it on while she preened.
Then one day, unexpectedly, something wild happened.
It started with a kidnapping.
Yeah, kidnapped—in cat form, snatched by some lowlife pirates who thought they could ransom a Red Hair Pirate’s pet.
She didn’t expect a rescue. No way these guys cared that much about a cat, right?
She spent a couple of days curled up in a cramped cage, hunger and exhaustion gnawing at her. In that tiny space, her Zoan powers slipped, and she shifted back to human form, limbs aching, barely fitting. When a guard came to toss her a measly scrap of food, he froze, staring at a woman in a tuxedo with a red bow tie instead of a cat. Confused but not entirely heartless, they shuffled her to a bigger cell.
As she was being moved, hands bound, a massive explosion rocked the ship.
“What the—?!” The guard’s words were cut short—a blade sliced clean through him, blood spraying.
She bolted, bruised and malnourished, her run more of a zigzag stumble. She tripped when she slammed into something solid, sprawling on the deck. A pirate lunged, grabbing for her arm, but before his fingers could graze her, a gunshot cracked through the air, dropping him like a sack of flour.
Now she was genuinely freaking out, scrambling to find anywhere safer than this chaos.
Suddenly, the air was knocked from her lungs, her knees buckled, and she hit the deck hard. An invisible weight pressed her down, like a Sea King was stepping on her spine. All around, the kidnappers were flattened too, groaning under the same force. All except one man—Shanks stood tall in the center of the carnage. He stalked toward the enemy captain, a mountain of a man, and grabbed him by the neck, lifting him like he weighed nothing.
“Where’s my cat?” Shanks’ voice was low, his eyes burning with a fury that could make islands quake.
The captain, red-faced and gasping, pointed shakily behind Shanks. “Th-there!”
Shanks glanced back, spotting her. His grip tightened. “That’s not a cat—that’s a woman!”
Her eyes widened. She’d never seen the Red Hair Pirates in action, not like this. For all her teasing and tail-flicking at Shanks, she’d gotten off lucky with his lighthearted bickering. She wouldn’t want to be in these pirates’ shoes.
It clicked then: the two men who’d gone down before she stumbled were hit by a sword and a sniper’s bullet—Benn and Yasopp.
Her blood ran cold. These people cared about her. It took them a while to track her down, but now they were wiping out the enemy in a matter of seconds.
Shanks, meanwhile, was studying her. The woman had half-white, half-black hair, those same sharp feline eyes, the tuxedo, the red bow tie… Oh. It was his cat. “Why is my cat a woman?” he asked, turning back to the captain, who was fighting for his last breaths.
Shanks dropped the man to the deck with a thud, his curiosity now fixed on her. He’d deal with the trash later. “Shanks,” she muttered, still in shock, her voice barely a whisper.
He crouched in front of her, tilting his head, that trademark grin creeping onto his face despite the chaos. “Are you really my cat?”
She nodded slowly, her heart pounding.
“Well, now, this is a twist I didn’t see coming!” Shanks chuckled, his voice light but his eyes sharp, taking her in. “Gotta say, you’re quite the stunner, love.” He offered his hand, helping her sit up. She was weak, trembling, and he noticed right away, his thumb brushing gently over a bruise on her cheek. His grin faded, replaced by a look that promised hell. “These savages’ll learn their lesson, don’t you worry.”
The ship didn’t last long. Shanks sank it like it was nothing, the Red Hair Pirates moving like a well-oiled war machine. What happened to the kidnappers? She didn’t know. Maybe a few survived, maybe none. She tried not to dwell on it as she sat in the Red Force’s infirmary, Hongo patching her up, trying to ease her shaken nerves.
Being kidnapped and caged? Not her finest hour, to put it mildly. She might’ve been a bit traumatized, if she was honest.
But back on the Red Force, surrounded by the crew’s chaotic warmth, she felt safe.
Guilt crept in. She’d kept her Zoan powers a secret, playing the pet card. If they were mad about her hiding the truth, she’d get it.
She braced herself for the lecture.
But it never came. Instead, the crew loved her more. Yasopp slung an arm around her, cackling, “You’re a cat and a lady? That’s legendary!” Lucky Roux offered her a rack of meat, grinning wide. “Gotta fatten you up after that mess!” Even Benn, usually stoic, gave her a rare smile, adjusting her bow tie. “Knew you were trouble, but this? Next level.”
Shanks, of course, was the worst. He kept calling her “my cat-lady,” parading her around like she was his new favorite crewmate. “Oi, Hongo, make sure she’s got no fleas!” he teased, dodging her weak swat with a laugh.
From then on, she shifted freely between her cat and human forms, and the Red Hair Pirates treated her like royalty either way.
Shanks, though? He was falling hard—and the crew could barely watch. Every attempt to impress her was a spectacular disaster. The man who could stop wars would hand her a bucket of roses, only for them to end up smashed when he tripped over a rope. And when she squinted at him in human form, those sharp feline eyes boring into his soul, the crew swore they saw their fearless captain sweat.
She found it oddly endearing, how this intimidating man could be such a mess, fumbling like a rookie because of her?
It was bizarre, but it tugged at her heart.
After his latest failed romancing attempt, when his confidence was at low tide and he started acting like a normal person instead of a flirtatious show-off, she started to like him back.
But no way was she making the first move—not with Shanks’ reputation.
One night, the crew was gathered around a table, sake flowing, laughter roaring. Shanks was drunk and clingy as hell, his arm slung around her shoulders. She didn’t mind—she was used to the crew’s affectionate roughhousing, their head scratches and back-pats, whether she was a cat or a woman. She soaked it up like a sunny deck.
But drunk Shanks? A different beast. He was either an annoying mess, whining about his “tragic love,” or a relentless flirt, smooth as polished steel. And damn, he was good—annoyingly good, words sliding out like honey, making her heart skip despite herself.
Her insecurities gnawed at her, though. Shanks was a notorious womanizer, charming every barmaid from East Blue to the New World. She wasn’t special, not the one, just another port in his endless voyage. No way was she getting her hopes up just to be left high and dry.
Tonight, though, she got playful Shanks, not the suave charmer. “Why’re you always dressed like a penguin, huh?” he slurred, sake fumes hitting her face as he leaned in, grinning like a kid. “So fancy.”
Lucky Roux piped up, a drumstick in hand. “More like a magician! Bet she’s got a top hat stashed somewhere!”
“Actually,” she said, a shy smirk tugging at her lips, “I am a magician.”
Shanks spat out his sake. The crew choked in unison, mugs clattering.
“No way!” Yasopp hollered, slamming his fist on the table, eyes gleaming.
“Do a trick!” Shanks begged, his grin wide as the Grand Line, eyes sparkling like a kid at a festival. “Pretty please, magic cat-lady?”
So she humored him—a classic coin-behind-the-ear bit, her fingers deft from years of practice. Shanks lost his damn mind, laughing like that was the greatest performance he had ever seen. From then on, every bar they hit, he’d hoist her cat form up like a trophy, shouting, “Behold, the magic cat!” She’d shift to human, pull flowers from her sleeve, or make coins vanish, and grizzled pirates in the crowd roared louder than any festival crowd, tossing belis and demanding encores.
The slurred compliments, the rough back-pats, and the rowdy cheers were better than any kid she’d ever performed for.
Shanks was smitten, and it wasn’t just the magician thing. The man had a serious weakness for circus types—clowns, acrobats, magicians, you name it.
But his flirting changed. The playful winks and smooth lines stopped, replaced by something quieter, more serious. It threw her off.
One night, he pulled her aside, away from the crew’s racket, his usual grin replaced by a nervous frown. “I’m only asking this once,” he said, voice low, like he was bracing for a fight. “If you say no, I’ll stop bothering you, promise.”
“Why so serious? You’re freaking me out,” she said, half-expecting him to drop some terrible news.
“Oh, no, no, no, nothing bad!” Shanks waved his hand, flustered. “Just, uh… hear me out.”
“Then spit it out,” she said, crossing her arms, her feline eyes narrowing.
“Would you… be my… my formal lover?” The words fought their way out.
She arched an eyebrow, amused. “Your formal lover? What’s that, your girlfriend?”
“Y-yeah, that!” Shanks stammered, rubbing the back of his neck, his face redder than his hair. “I mean, you don’t have to say yes, I know I’m… y’know, me…”
This was Shanks—the Shanks, the man who could charm a room full of ladies in ten seconds flat, who vanished at every port and came back grinning like a winner. And now he was fumbling, tripping over his words… over her? It was absurd.
She barely heard his nervous rambling. “So, you want me to be your lover, or just a lover?” she asked, tilting her head, testing him.
“I’d die for you,” he blurted, eyes wide.
She choked on air, her composure cracking.
What the hell kind of messy love confession was this?
“Okay… uh, yeah,” she managed, trying to keep her cool despite her racing heart.
“You’re saying yes?” Shanks asked, hope lighting up his face like a sunrise.
“I’m saying yes,” she said, jabbing a finger at him. “But if you break my heart, I’m gone. You’ll never see me again.”
“I’d never,” he said, his smooth charm sliding back in. “You’re stuck with me, magic cat-lady.”
And damn, he lived up to the hype. The tales she’d heard from barmaids didn’t do him justice. He was a phenomenal kisser, an even better lover, and every moment with him left her grinning like an idiot. The crew knew exactly why—she’d catch Yasopp’s smirks or Roux’s teasing winks, and her face would burn.
Embarrassing? Sure. But she loved being a Red Hair Pirate too much to care.
Summary: Putting yourself in danger and trying to sacrifice yourself for the crew is not something we do in the Straw Hat crew.
Warnings: angry Luffy
Author’s Note: Tis the day 13 prompts! "Never do that again". Angry Luffy was scary to write, not someone I would want to piss off
Masterlist here!
Word Count: 0.6k
Likes and comments are much appreciated! Do not repost anywhere! Works will be posted from my ao3 account soon.
Not even Zoro’s swords could cut the silence that envelops the crew as you return from the battle. You’ve been thrown on Usopp’s back as he carries your unconscious body to Chopper’s infirmary. The Straw Hats won another fight and saved another island but now they have their hardest battle, making sure you pull through.
Chopper works hard overnight and by breakfast, you’re mostly healed, wrapped in bandages, and awake. Nami and Robin each have one of your arms over their shoulders as they get you to the galley. Chopper’s done his job, Sanji needs to get some food in you now.
You start to reach for a fork, ready to dive into the breakfast Sanji made you, when the room goes silent upon Luffy’s entrance. You look around the group, confused why your normally happy captain is causing everyone else to avoid eye contact and stop talking.
You figure it out very quickly when your eyes meet Luffy’s. Any joy you’ve seen previously is gone. Frozen in place by the glare he’s placed on you, your eyes dart to the sides, hoping one of your other crewmates knows what’s going on.
“Hey Cap, everything okay?” You try to sound happy but there’s fear lacing your words.
Luffy says nothing but finally looks away from you, taking an empty seat on the other end of the table.
The silence in the room continues and you set your fork down. No longer hungry.
Feeling like your presence is what’s actually killing the mood, you stand to leave.
Luffy’s voice stops you. His words are filled with a mix of anger and sadness. “Why did you do that?” He speaks through his teeth and your eyes meet again. “You could have died. We could have lost you! I could have lost you.” The rest of the crew is silent. Forks are set down and eyes are glued to plates.
Everyone else knew this would happen when you woke up. Everyone else knew one of the biggest unspoken rules on this ship: We don’t sacrifice ourselves. Everyone makes it back to the Sunny.
Your voice is quiet. It’s clear you’re hesitant about what you’re saying but you don’t know how else to respond. “Luffy I… it was the only way to make sure you all got away safely.”
“No.” The hand that was brought up to your chest as you tried to defend yourself freezes in mid air. You’ve never seen Luffy this angry. Not at one of his friends. Not at his own crew. “You don’t get to make that decision.” He stands, the table being the only thing between you and him. “When the battle gets bad, you get out. You and the rest of the crew find each other and you all make it back here.” His finger lands on the table with a soft thud, but it echoes in the silence. “I finish off the leaders and when I’m done, every single one of you should be here, alive.” His eyes narrow, you’ve been pinned in place and in silence, not knowing how to respond or if you even should. “Never do that again.”
Luffy decides he’s said enough and leaves the galley, having not ate a single bite of breakfast.
Franky breaks the silence, being the first one to look at you. “Don’t ever let yourself be the reason he loses a member of his crew.” The tears are brimming in your eyes and you run out of the room, back to your cabin, before anyone else can say anything to you.
hiii!! I really enjoy reading ur fics so can I ask for
Sanji x reader who has a stronger kick than him (she's a hybrid,so she has hare ears and a hare tail and the leg strength of a hare along with the jumping ablity) and they meet during a hunt for treasure when their crews clash,and she's a cross dresser so Sanji thinks she's a guy until he manages a kick to her face and her kitsune like mask falls right off before she gets up so Sanji freezes because he'd never purposely hit a woman??
Please and thanks
Out-Kicked By a Hare!♡
╰┈➤ˎˊ˗ V. Sanji x F! Reader °˖➴
♡⸝⸝ Word count:12.6k
🥕 ༘⋆ Warnings: abduction/kidnapping, Violance, use of y/n, minor mentions of blood
♡⸝⸝ A/N: Hihi It’s been a while! I’m gonna try and post again because schools coming close to an end but…oh also how would we feel if I made a May mental health post?
The morning didn't arrive with a shout; it crept in like a secret, afraid to wake the world.
But you were already awake. You sat at the edge of your bunk, the gentle, rhythmic groan of the ship’s timber vibrating through your soles. Your ears were the first to greet the day—long, furred, and twitching with an independent life, mapping every shift in the salty air before your eyes even opened. High above the mast, a gull shrieked, and your nose wrinkled instinctively. The scent was a familiar cocktail of brine, old oak, and the smell of someone on the galley shift burning something they definitely shouldn't be.
You exhaled a long, measured breath, centering yourself. Your fingers traced through your sleep-mussed hair, navigating carefully around the sensitive base of your ears. They flicked under your touch—vibrant and alert—and you smoothed them down with a practiced hand. It was a habit of modesty, even if it was futile; the moment you stepped into the sun, they’d perk right back up, broadcasting every emotion you tried to hide. Behind you, your tail gave an impatient thump against the mattress.
There was no sense in trying to find sleep again.
When you stood to stretch, your muscles coiled like overwound springs. There was a deceptive power in your frame; even a simple reach toward the ceiling felt like you might accidentally launch yourself through the deck boards. You had learned to move with a calculated softness, a grace that masked the tension of a predator waiting to snap.
The mirror across the cabin caught your reflection. You didn't linger—you never did—but you took a quick inventory. The ears, the tail, the way you seemed to hover just a fraction lighter on your feet than the rest of the heavy-booted crew. Then, your focus shifted to the costume.
Kneeling by your chest, you flipped the latch with a dull clack. Inside was a curated chaos of silks, leathers, and sashes—treasures scavenged from ports that had already forgotten your face. You selected something sharp for the day. You pulled on a fitted shirt, layering it with structured pieces that were intentional and clean. It was a look designed to make people look twice, yet leave them unable to explain why they felt uneasy. You bound what needed binding and loosened the rest, sculpting yourself into a shape that felt like you, rather than the "rabbit" the world expected to see.
By the time you were finished, the person in the mirror looked back like a dare. Your ears tilted forward, sharp and defiant.
A heavy thud echoed from the deck above, followed by a raucous shout. The crew. They were loud, reckless, and perpetually on the verge of a brawl or a celebration. Your tail flicked, faster now. You grabbed your coat, slinging it over your shoulders, and headed for the door. The wood was already warm beneath your palm, radiating the heat of a sun that promised a day full of trouble.
You didn't take the stairs.
As you stepped into the light, your legs compressed for a heartbeat—then released. The world dropped away as you launched upward. The wind whipped past your face, your coat snapping like a flag, and you cleared the ladder in a single, silent arc. You landed on the upper deck with a faint thud that shouldn't have been heard, yet a few heads turned anyway.
"Show-off," someone grumbled, though there was no real bite in it.
You ignored them, moving through the organized chaos of the deck like a ghost that hadn't quite learned how to haunt. You passed the gamblers at the mast and the sailors hauling rope, a shadow among the living. You weren't here for the camaraderie. You were a temporary passenger on a fast ship, tied to them only by a heading and a common goal.
Resting your arms on the railing, you stared at the endless blue. Behind you, the crew’s whispers drifted on the wind. They talked of buried gold, of islands that swallowed men whole, and of riches that could buy a kingdom. Your tail gave a solitary flick. Treasure. That was the only word that mattered.
"Oi."
The footsteps that approached were heavy. You didn't turn, not even when the person leaned against the railing beside you, trying to catch a glimpse of your eyes.
"You're quiet," the voice noted. "Been here what—three weeks?"
"Four," you thought, but you only shrugged.
"You even got a name? Or do we just keep calling you 'rabbit'?"
Your ears twitched at the word. Slowly, you turned your head. Your expression was a mask of unreadable calm, a distance that acted as a wall. "You can call me whatever you want," you said, your voice flat and even.
The sailor snorted. "Careful. That’s how nicknames stick. You don't talk much about yourself, do you?"
You looked back at the horizon, where the sea met the sky in a line of perfect indifference. "There's not much to say."
It was a lie, of course. But it was a lie that kept you safe.
As the day progressed, the air began to change. You felt it in your bones before the island even broke the horizon. Your ears went unnaturally still as the wind shifted, bringing the scent of damp earth and ancient rot. When the land finally appeared—a jagged, dark tooth rising from the mist—the crew fell silent. The island looked like it was watching them back.
You slipped away to your cabin one last time. The chest opened again, and your hands went deep, past the fabrics, to the very bottom. You pulled out a mask. It was a pale kitsune face, elegant and cold, with markings that suggested a wisdom far older than your years.
You remembered the day you joined this crew. You had made yourself look small. You had lowered your ears and let your voice shake, playing the part of the "bunny" who needed a ride and a protector. They had laughed at you, called you weak, and let you on board out of a mix of pity and amusement.
It was the perfect disguise.
You slid the mask over your face. The transformation was instantaneous. You no longer looked like prey. You looked like a predator that had finally stopped pretending.
When you stepped back onto the deck, the atmosphere shifted. The sailor who had called you "rabbit" caught your eye and froze, his brow furrowing as he looked at the masked figure standing where the quiet girl had been.
"Didn't know you had teeth," he muttered, his voice dropping an octave.
Beneath the mask, your head tilted just a fraction. "You didn't look hard enough."
The ship slowed as the island's shadow fell over the deck. The crew was checking their blades, their faces tight with fear and greed. They thought you were one of them—a tag-along, a piece of the team. But as your fingers brushed the edge of your mask, you knew the truth. When the treasure was finally within reach, you wouldn't be the soft thing they thought they had rescued.
You would be the one who vanished with everything they desired.
The anchor never hit the silt.
The captain didn’t trust the shifting currents this close to the jagged shoreline, and truth be told, neither did anyone else. Instead, the heavy wooden longboats were lowered into the surf with a rhythmic, protesting groan. You stepped into the first one before an order could even be barked, landing with a feather-light grace that barely caused the boat to rock. The rest of the crew piled in behind you—clumsy, loud, and smelling of cheap grog and overconfidence. They slung their rusted cutlasses and flintlocks over their shoulders like they were heading into a seaside tavern rather than the mouth of an ancient, breathing mystery.
As the oars bit into the dark water, the island surged forward to meet you. Up close, the beauty of the horizon curdled into something suffocating. A bruised mist clung to the shoreline, coiling around the hull of the boat like ghostly fingers trying to drag the wood down into the depths. Overhead, the canopy was a strangled knot of black branches that bled the light from the sky.
Your ears pricked beneath the heavy fabric of your hood. It was too quiet. The sea usually sang, but here, the waves seemed to muffle their own breaking.
"Don't wander off, little one," a voice drawled from the bench behind you, thick with a condescending smirk. "Wouldn't want you getting swallowed by the fog before we even find the gold."
A chorus of rough chuckles rippled through the boat. You didn't turn. You didn't even blink.
"Captain should've left the rabbit on the ship," another voice added, louder now, emboldened by the laughter. "No offense, sweetheart, but this isn't exactly... your kind of work."
You felt your grip tighten on the gunwale, your knuckles brushing the salt-worn wood. Beneath the cold, porcelain surface of your mask, your expression remained a frozen void, but a familiar sharpness settled in your chest. It was the weight of a thousand similar comments from a dozen different crews on a hundred different shores. The same assumptions. The same dismissive glances.
The boat’s prow hit the sand with a wet, heavy scrape.
"Alright, move it!" the captain barked, leaping into the shallows.
The crew spilled onto the beach, their heavy boots sinking into the sodden earth with slurping thuds. You followed last, your feet touching the island with the silence of falling snow. The moment you stepped onto the land, the air grew thick enough to taste—metallic and old. Your ears snapped upright, hidden but sensitive to the sudden, oppressive shift in the atmosphere.
The crew pushed inland, driven by a greed that was far louder than their survival instincts. You fell into the center of the pack—unnoticed, unregarded, a shadow among the shouting men. You watched as they hacked through prehistoric vines, swearing at the heat and the terrain.
"You holding up back there?" the sailor from the boat called over his shoulder, a mocking glint in his eye. "Need a hand to hold?"
"I'll manage," you replied. Your voice was a calm, flat line that gave them nothing to grab onto.
They rolled their eyes and turned away, dismissing you once more. You let them. Every step deeper into the emerald gloom only sharpened your senses. While they grumbled about their boots, you heard the sway of a branch where there was no wind. You felt the dip in the ground where the earth had been hollowed out by time. You saw the flicker of something moving just beyond the veil of mist—something fast, silent, and hungry.
"Bet she won’t even make it halfway," a whisper drifted back to you. "Stick close, rabbit. Wouldn't want you crying when things get ugly."
A strange clarity washed over you then. It wasn't anger—it was the cold, quiet peace of a hunter who knows exactly how the story ends. You hadn't come here for their respect. You had come for the prize. And every insult they hurled only made your task easier; the more they looked down on you, the less they saw you at all.
Your stance shifted. You lowered your center of gravity, your movements becoming fluid and predatory. Let them think you were weak. Let them believe you were a burden.
Up ahead, the path split. To the left, a wide, obvious trail, littered with broken ferns—a trap disguised as a shortcut. To the right, a narrow, suffocating squeeze through the undergrowth, nearly invisible to the untrained eye. Your ears tilted toward the narrow path. That was the way.
"I think..." you said, injecting a deliberate note of hesitation into your voice, "it might be safer to go left. It looks easier."
The captain paused, glancing at the two paths. He didn't trust you, but he trusted his own desire for comfort. "Fine. We go left."
You stepped back, letting the tide of men flow past you. Your gaze lingered on the real path for a heartbeat before you followed them into the trap. You would circle back once the chaos started.
And the chaos started sooner than you expected.
The air didn't just shift; it shattered.
"Oi! You guys look kinda lost."
The voice was bright, annoyingly cheerful, and entirely wrong for this godforsaken place. The crew halted, weapons drawn in a frantic scramble of steel. At the edge of a small clearing stood a group that shouldn't have been there.
A young man in a straw hat stood at the front, a wide, simple grin on his face that felt heavier than the mountain behind him. Behind him, the legends took shape: a swordsman with three blades, a navigator with eyes like flint, a cook exhaling a plume of blue smoke, a skeleton, a cyborg, a giant of a man made of the sea itself.
The Straw Hats.
The air in the clearing turned to lead. The Yonko’s presence was a physical weight, bending the very shadows toward him.
"What business do you have here?" your captain snarled, his voice trembling despite his bravado.
Luffy tilted his head, his grin widening into something terrifyingly honest. "Treasure."
The standoff lasted only as long as a heartbeat. Then, someone from your crew—driven by a lethal mix of fear and stupidity—lunged.
Zoro didn't even seem to move. There was a flash of steel, a clean clink and the attacker was redirected with effortless violence. "Don't be stupid," the swordsman muttered.
The clearing exploded. Shouts, clashing metal, and the roar of a crew fighting for their lives against a force of nature. In the turmoil, you did what you did best. You became nothing. You slipped backward, the mask hiding the predatory gleam in your eyes. A crewmate stumbled past you, glancing at your transformed posture, his eyes widening as he realized the "rabbit" was gone, replaced by something sharp and lethal.
"Wait—who are—?"
You didn't answer. You turned and vanished into the brush.
You ran with a silence that defied the forest, your legs pumping in powerful bursts as you navigated the narrow, hidden path. The sounds of the battle faded into a dull thrum behind you. The deeper you went, the clearer the pull became. The air turned sweet, smelling of ancient stone and forgotten gold.
The trees thinned, revealing a ruin of white stone swallowed by vines. At the center of the crumbling altar, something caught the dying light of the sun—a glow that promised a different life.
Your heart steadied as you stepped into the clearing. Behind you, two crews were tearing each other apart for a map they couldn't read and a prize they couldn't see.
But you? You were already home.
The clearing breathes around you, heavy with the scent of damp moss and the metallic tang of gold that has slept too long in the shade. You step forward, the soft padding of your boots barely registering on the ancient stone. Your gaze is locked on the ruin’s heart, where the treasure glints—fractured light dancing off coins and something deeper, something that feels like the very pulse of the island.
Your ears angle forward. No traps. No movement. Just the thrum of your own blood.
"WOOOOW—!"
The voice shatters the silence like a falling chandelier. It is loud, dramatic, and entirely too smooth for a graveyard of kings. You don't flinch, but your body goes stone-still.
"What a view! And what a mysterious figure standing right in front of it!"
Sanji saunters into the clearing as if he’s stepping onto a ballroom floor. He reaches for a cigarette, his movements practiced and fluid, but his eyes—sharp as a chef’s knife—narrow the moment they land on your silhouette. He notes the mask, the stillness, the strange, light-defying way you hold your weight.
"Hm..." He exhales a plume of smoke, watching you with a newfound intensity. "You’re not with the loud ones back there, are you?"
You offer nothing. The porcelain face of your mask stares back at him, blank and unreadable. Behind you, your tail stills completely, a silent barometer of your focus.
Sanji tilts his head, a sharper edge cutting through his casual tone. "Ignoring me, huh? Not very friendly."
When the silence persists, his gaze flickers past you to the shimmering hoard. Understanding dawns on him, cold and clear. "So that’s how it is," he mutters, rolling his shoulder. "Can’t let you just walk off with it, you know. My navigator would have my head."
You shift your weight—a micro-movement, but to a fighter like him, it’s a declaration of war.
"Right," he says, flicking ash to the side. "Guess we’re doing this."
He moves first. He is a blur, closing the distance in a heartbeat. His leg sweeps upward in a clean, practiced arc—aimed to disarm, to knock you off balance, but notably devoid of killing intent.
You aren't there when the kick arrives.
You drop low, your legs coiling like steel springs, and then you launch. The ground spider-webs beneath your feet as you vanish into the air, clearing his strike by a mile. Wind rushes past your ears, your coat snapping like a whip as you twist mid-air and bring your leg down with the force of a falling star.
Sanji’s eyes widen—then sharpen. He blocks.
Your kick slams into his guard with a crack that echoes through the ruins. The shockwave ripples through the stone beneath him, pushing him back half a step. It’s the first time anyone on this island has moved him.
"Oh?" he murmurs, a small, dangerous smile touching his lips.
You land lightly and pivot. No pause. No breath. You sweep low, your strike aimed to break bone. He jumps back, barely clearing the arc, and counters with a snap-kick toward your ribs. You twist, taking the blow on your arm to reset your stance.
The space between you opens again. For a heartbeat, the clearing is silent. Then Sanji straightens his tie, his laziness replaced by a terrifying, singular focus.
"You're strong," he admits. "Not bad at all."
Your ears twitch beneath your hood. You don't respond. You disappear again, closing the gap in a burst of speed. You feint high, drop low, and chain your movements into a relentless, unpredictable dance. You are a whirlwind of kicks—springing, striking, redirecting.
Sanji meets you blow for blow. The rhythm shifts; he isn't holding back anymore. He can't. You aren't something he needs to protect; you are a threat that demands his everything.
Your foot connects—just a graze against his side—but it's enough to unbalance him. You see the opening and take it. You launch high, twisting for a finishing strike. Sanji’s gaze snaps up, and for a fraction of a second, he looks delighted.
"Got it!"
His leg rises to meet yours, and the collision sends a physical shock through the air. You both skid back, landing in a crouch. The silence that follows is tighter, more focused. Sanji’s cigarette falls from his lips, forgotten.
"You're definitely not some random pirate," he says quietly.
Then, the fight escalates. It spills out of the ruins and back toward the forest's edge. Stone cracks, trees splinter, and the sheer pressure of your clashing kicks begins to draw the attention of the crews nearby. You burst back into the main clearing, and the battle between the Straw Hats and your crew falters.
Zoro’s hand stays on his sword, his eye tracking your movement with grim respect. Luffy’s grin fades into a look of genuine curiosity. They see it now: you are matching their cook, kick for kick.
Sanji resets his stance, breathing hard. "You're tough," he says.
You don't answer. You surge forward, a relentless chain of strikes forcing him back. He blocks, he pivots, he learns. He begins to narrow your angles, forcing you to commit. Your next strike comes high—and he doesn't block. He steps in.
Too late, you realize the trap. His leg snaps upward in a powerful arc.
CRACK.
The impact is square. Your head whips to the side, and the porcelain mask—the only shield you had left—shatters. It falls in slow motion, white shards catching the sunlight before hitting the dirt with a hollow tap.
Time stops.
Sanji freezes. His leg is still raised, but the momentum is gone. His eyes go wide, locked on your face, on your real, uncovered features.
"A—" The word dies. The cigarette he had just replaced slips from his lips. "I—didn't—"
His hands begin to shake. You see it clearly—the man who just traded blows that could level buildings is now trembling. He stumbles back, his posture crumbling.
"I hit..." His voice is a broken whisper. "A woman?"
He drags a hand through his hair, his voice rising in a frantic, desperate cadence. "No... no, no. I didn't know! I didn't see!"
He looks at you with a horror that is almost physical. "I would never! Never!"
Around you, the battle stalls completely. Your own crewmates, sensing a shift, start to jeer. "You've gotta be kidding me! He’s backing off because she’s a girl?"
Another laughs. "Guess that explains the jumping around. Just a lucky broad."
Something in your chest, cold and dormant, finally ignites. Your ears flatten. You turn your head toward your own crew—slowly.
"Say that again."
The voice is quiet, but it silences the clearing. You move so fast it looks like a glitch in reality. Before the man can blink, you have him by the collar, yanking him down until you are inches from his face. Your foot slams into the earth beside him, the ground fracturing under the force.
"Say it again," you repeat. "Not 'for a girl.' I am strong. Just am."
You release him, letting him scramble back in terror. You turn back to Sanji. He is still standing there, jaw tight, looking like he’s just committed a mortal sin.
"Fine," you say, your voice steady and sharp. "You don't fight women. I don't need you to."
You take a step back, centering yourself. You don't need his chivalry, and you certainly don't need your crew’s permission. You look at the Straw Hats, then at the pirates who called you 'rabbit' for four weeks.
"Anyone else?" you ask the clearing. "Or are you all done underestimating me?"
Your tail flicks once, sharp and predatory. The mask is gone, but the person underneath is far more dangerous.
The silence in the clearing was heavy, a suffocating veil that smelled of damp earth and the metallic tang of old gold. You didn't wait for a response; you didn't need one. With a sudden, violent crack of stone beneath your boots, you vanished.
You were a blur of fur and fabric, a streak of desperate intent cutting toward the ruins. The wind howled past your ears, flattening the fur against your skull. Your focus was a singular, burning point: the glint of the treasure. It was so close you could almost feel the cold bite of the gold against your palms.
"HEY—!"
The shout was distant, a fading echo of the world you were leaving behind. You were already gone. Branches whipped your face like lashes as you dove into the overgrown path, your feet barely kissing the ground between frantic leaps. Almost there. Almost—
The world suddenly lunged for you.
It wasn't a person, but an explosion of life. From the mossy bark of the trees, from the cracked flagstones, even from the very air itself, arms bloomed like pale, horrific flowers. Dozens of them. They didn't strike; they flowered around your limbs, locking onto your wrists, your waist, your ankles with the fluid precision of a closing trap.
You twisted, muscles coiling and snapping as you tried to tear through the silken restraint, but the grip was unyielding. You weren't crushed, but you were anchored—suspended mid-motion like an insect in amber.
"I was wondering when you’d make your move."
Nico Robin stepped from the shadows. She looked entirely too calm for a battlefield, a faint, knowing smile playing on her lips. Your ears flattened against your head, a low, guttural growl vibrating in your throat.
"You’re fast," she continued, her head tilting with genuine curiosity. "And very clever. Leading your own crew to a dead end while keeping the true path for yourself? Impressive."
"Let go," you hissed. Your voice was a jagged edge, stripped of the soft facade you’d worn for weeks.
Robin’s smile shifted, becoming something more contemplative. "Tempting. But our navigator has a very particular nose for gold. I don't think she'd forgive me."
"ROBIN!"
Nami burst through the brush, her orange hair a flame against the emerald gloom. The moment her eyes hit the ruins, they ignited. "THAT’S IT! It’s ours!" She didn't even look at you; she saw only the glimmering hoard, the light of it reflecting in her eyes like stars.
Close behind her came the steady, rhythmic thud of sandals. Monkey D. Luffy skidded to a halt, his straw hat bobbing. He looked at the massive, crumbling structure and grinned with the pure, uncomplicated joy of a child at a festival. "Woahhh! It looks so cool!"
The rest of your crew began to stumble into the clearing behind them—bruised, panting, and looking utterly broken by the sheer presence of the Straw Hats. They were variables you didn't have time to solve.
With a roar of effort, you surged against the floral restraints. The sheer explosiveness of your strength caught Robin off guard for a fraction of a second. You ripped one arm free, the spectral limbs dissolving into petals that swirled in your wake. You launched forward, tearing through the remaining hands with raw, desperate force.
You didn't look back. You ran.
"HEY!" Nami shrieked, finally snapping her gaze to you. "She’s getting it! Luffy, stop her!"
Your fingers brushed the air inches from the gold. Then, the air itself seemed to stretch.
"Gomu Gomu no—!"
Your ears flicked. You somersaulted mid-air, a desperate, instinctual twist that saved you. A rubbery arm snapped past your head like a whip, slamming into the stone altar with enough force to crack the granite.
"Oops," Luffy laughed, pulling his arm back with a wet snap. He wasn't angry. He was having the time of his life. "Missed! Again!"
You landed in a crouch and launched yourself again, but the playground had changed. Luffy wasn't just throwing punches anymore; he was moving with the terrifying, casual grace of a predator. He intercepted your path, his arm curving mid-stretch to predict your dodge.
You were forced off course, hitting the ground hard. Before you could rebound, more arms sprouted. Robin didn't try to pin you this time; she simply acted as a wall, redirecting your momentum back toward the center of the clearing.
"Luffy," Robin said softly.
"Yeah!"
He was there before you could even rise. Your kick went up; he blocked it with a forearm that felt like solid iron, his grin never wavering. "Woah—you’re really strong!"
You snapped your other leg forward, a strike meant to shatter a rib, but he danced back with effortless fluidity. He was learning you. Every twitch of your ears, every shift of your tail—he was reading the rhythm of your soul.
"Luffy, this is not playtime!" Nami wailed from the sidelines.
"I’m not playing!" he laughed, though he absolutely was.
Your teeth ground together. The weight of the situation finally began to sink in. You were strong—fast, lethal, and cunning—but you were standing against a Yonko. You weren't just fighting a man; you were fighting a force of nature.
You lowered your center of gravity, your breath coming in hot, ragged bursts. You couldn't go around them. You couldn't outrun them. You had to go through them. You launched one final, all-or-nothing strike, a direct line of pure, unadulterated speed aimed at the heart of the ruins.
Luffy’s eyes sharpened. The playfulness didn't vanish, but it was suddenly backed by a mountain of resolve. "Okay!"
He met you in the air. His timing was perfect, his grip catching you with a strength that made your bones ache. You twisted, trying to lash out, but Robin’s arms bloomed again, wrapping around your torso and legs like a silken cocoon. They brought you down to the mossy earth—not with cruelty, but with an immovable finality.
The impact knocked the breath from your lungs. You lay there for a moment, chest heaving, your tail lashing the dirt in a frenzy of frustration.
Robin knelt beside you, her touch as light as a breeze. "You’re fast," she whispered, "but no one is faster than the both of us."
Luffy landed nearby, bouncing on his heels. He looked down at you, and for the first time, his gaze was tempered with a deep, quiet respect. "Not bad. You’re really, really strong. But..." He gestured to his crew, to the mountain of power they represented. "...you’re not stronger than us together."
You bit your lip, the taste of salt and copper on your tongue. Your crew was gone—scattered and cowed. Sanji stood a few paces away, his face pale, his hands trembling with a guilt he couldn't name, unable to even look at you.
You sat up slowly as Robin released her hold. You were defeated, outmatched by a power you hadn't truly believed in until it was around your throat. But as you looked at the treasure, and then back at the grinning boy in the straw hat, your ears flicked forward.
The death glare you leveled at them was enough to make a lesser man flinch. You weren't broken. Your mind was already whirring, discarding the failed plan and building something new from the wreckage. Speed hadn't worked. Strength hadn't worked.
But you still had your secrets. And as your tail gave one final, defiant twitch, you realized that the most dangerous thing about a rabbit wasn't how fast it ran—it was how deep it could dig.
The clearing had fallen into a heavy, lopsided silence. Your former crew lay scattered like discarded dolls, the fight knocked out of them—some unconscious, others simply too broken by the sheer scale of the Straw Hats' power to lift their heads from the dirt.
It was just you now. You, and the legends standing in a circle around the ruins.
You sat on the mossy ground, your chest heaving, the fur on your ears matted with dust and sweat. Your mask lay in two jagged pieces a few feet away, its porcelain smirk finally silenced. Without it, you felt raw, exposed to the midday sun that filtered through the canopy.
A shadow fell over you.
Sanji stood there, his silhouette blocking out the light. He wasn't in a fighting stance anymore. His hands were shoved deep into his pockets, his shoulders hunched in a way that spoke of a deep, internal ache. He looked at you, then quickly looked away, his gaze landing on the shattered mask.
"I..." he started, his voice uncharacteristically raspy. He reached into his coat, pulled out a fresh cigarette, and fumbled with his lighter. His fingers were still shaking. "I didn't mean to hit you. I would have... I should have seen."
You looked up at him, your gaze hard and uncompromising. "You shouldn't have held back," you said, your voice finally steady. "I was an enemy. I was holding the treasure. You're a pirate, aren't you?"
Sanji winced as if you’d kicked him again. He finally lit the cigarette, exhaling a cloud of blue smoke that drifted toward the trees. "It doesn't matter. There are lines I don't cross. Even for a pirate." He looked back at you, his blue eyes softening with a mix of guilt and something that looked like genuine wonder. "You're incredible, you know. I’ve never seen anyone move like that. You fought like a storm."
You didn't answer. You didn't want his praise; you wanted the gold that was currently being stuffed into a large sack by a very hummed-along Nami.
"HEY! SHISHISHI!"
Luffy’s laugh boomed, breaking the heavy tension between you and the cook. The Captain of the Straw Hats bounced over, landing in a squat right in front of you. He tilted his head, his wide, dark eyes scanning your face, your ears, and finally the defiant set of your jaw.
"You're fun!" Luffy declared, pointing a finger at your chest. "You're fast, you're strong, and you have funny ears! I like you!"
You blinked, taken aback by the sudden shift in energy. "I don't care if you like me. Give me the treasure."
Luffy ignored the request entirely. He stood up, his grin stretching so wide it seemed to defy the laws of physics. "I decided! You’re coming with us!"
The clearing went dead silent again. Nami stopped mid-count of a gold stack; Zoro cracked an eye open from where he was leaning against a tree; Robin simply smiled, as if she had expected this all along.
"No," you said firmly.
Luffy’s grin didn't falter. "Why not? We’re going to the next island! It’s gonna be a huge adventure! And Sanji makes great food, right Sanji?"
"The best," Sanji muttered, though he was still staring at you with a look of dazed conflict.
"I said no," you repeated, pushing yourself up to stand. You glanced at your unconscious crew. "I have... I have a ship. I have a life."
"That ship is slow," Nami chimed in, finally looking up. "And those guys? They were ready to leave you behind the second things got 'ugly.' We saw how they talked to you."
"It doesn't matter," you snapped, your tail lashing behind you. "I'm not a Straw Hat. I’m a thief. I work alone."
Luffy put his hands on his hips, his expression shifting from playful to that unshakable, stubborn seriousness that had toppled kings. "I'm the Captain. And I say you're coming."
"I'm not one of your subordinates!" you yelled, your ears flattening. "You can't just—"
"Zoro! Sanji!" Luffy called out, throwing a thumb over his shoulder toward the shore. "Take her to the Sunny!"
"Wait, what?!" you gasped, coiling your legs to bolt.
But you weren't faster than the two men who closed the distance. Zoro was suddenly at your left, his massive hand catching your arm before you could launch, and Sanji was at your right.
"Sorry, mademoiselle," Sanji whispered, though he didn't look entirely sorry to see you staying. "Captain’s orders are absolute."
"Let me go! You can't just kidnap me!" You thrashed, kicking out with enough force to shatter wood, but Zoro simply shifted his weight, pinning your movement with the practiced ease of a man who dealt with monsters for breakfast.
"Quit squirming," Zoro grunted, though he wasn't being rough. "If Luffy says you're joining, you're joining. Save your energy for the sea."
You looked back at Luffy, who was already walking toward the beach, humming a tuneless song and swinging his arms. He didn't even look back to see if they were following. He knew they were.
As they carried you toward the shore, past the broken remains of your old life and the crew that had never truly seen you, you let out a frustrated growl that was half-sob and half-snarl.
The Straw Hats were loud, chaotic, and completely insane. They had taken your treasure, shattered your mask, and now they were taking you.
Your ears flicked toward the sound of the crashing surf ahead, where the Thousand Sunny waited. You were still furious, still defiant—but as the salt spray hit your face, a small, treacherous part of your heart wondered what kind of food the cook actually made.
The shore was a battleground of pride and stubbornness.
Zoro had a grip like a mountain, and Sanji was moving with a strange, hesitant grace, but they both underestimated exactly how much leverage a person with your anatomy could find. You weren't a heavy-hitter in a head-on collision, but you were a kinetic nightmare.
The first time happened halfway to the longboat.
You waited for the exact moment Zoro’s weight shifted over a piece of driftwood. You didn’t pull away; you leaned in, using his own momentum against him, and snapped your leg upward. It wasn't a kick meant to hurt, but a precision strike to the pressure point behind his knee. His leg buckled, his grip loosened for a split second, and you were gone.
You launched toward the treeline, a blur of fur and coat. You almost made it, too, until a pinkish blur of arms sprouted from a nearby trunk, snagging your ankles just long enough for Zoro to lung forward and snag you by the back of your collar like a disobedient kitten.
"Nice try," Zoro grunted, looking more annoyed at the sand on his pants than the escape attempt.
The second time was at the water’s edge.
Sanji was trying to help you into the boat, his expression a mix of "I'm so sorry" and "please don't kick me again." You played into it. You let your ears droop, making yourself look small and defeated. The moment his hands touched your waist to lift you, you exploded.
You drove your elbow into his ribs—hard enough to make him wheeze—and used his shoulders as a literal launching pad. You did a backflip over the boat, splashing into the surf and diving deep, swimming toward the jagged rocks where the Sunny couldn't follow. But then, the water around you began to churn. Jinbe hadn't even been part of the conversation, but suddenly a massive blue hand reached through the currents, hoisting you back into the air by your waist.
"The Captain's word is law, little one," the helmsman said calmly, plopping you back into the longboat.
The third time was pure desperation.
As the longboat drew alongside the towering, magnificent hull of the Thousand Sunny, you waited until they were hooking the ropes. You didn't run; you fought. You turned into a whirlwind of teeth and heels. You bit Zoro’s hand, kicked the side of the boat so hard it nearly tipped, and nearly took Sanji’s nose off with a spinning heel. You managed to scramble halfway up the side of the ship, claws digging into the wood, intent on jumping into the open ocean and taking your chances with the sea kings.
"Enough!" Nami’s voice cracked like a whip from the deck above.
Before you could reach the railing, a thick, soft rope looped around your torso, then your arms, then your legs. Luffy was looking down at you from the deck, the end of the rope in his hand, his grin as wide as ever.
"You're really bouncy!" he laughed, hauling you up like a prize fish.
Minutes later, you were sitting on the grassy deck of the Sunny, leaning against the mast. You were tied—not painfully, but securely—in a series of knots that even your flexible joints couldn't wiggle out of. Your hair was a mess, your ears were pinned back in a permanent scowl, and your tail was thumping the grass in a rhythmic, furious beat.
The Straw Hats stood around you, looking more amused than anything else.
"Three times," Franky noted, impressed. "That’s a super record for someone your size."
Sanji approached slowly, kneeling in front of you with a tray. The smell hit you instantly—something rich, savory, and warm. He set a bowl of stew and a plate of golden-brown bread within reach, though your hands were currently bound to your sides.
"I made this for you," he said softly, his voice still carrying that heavy weight of guilt. "It’s got plenty of herbs for the bruises."
You looked at the food, then at him, then at Luffy, who was sitting on the lion’s head at the front of the ship, looking out at the sea.
"I'm going to kill you all," you muttered, though your stomach betrayed you with a loud, traitorous growl.
"Shishishi! Eat first, kill us later!" Luffy shouted back without turning around. "We're heading for the next island!"
The anchor rose. The sails unfurled, catching a wind that felt far too free for someone currently tied to a mast. You were a prisoner of the most dangerous crew on the sea, and for the first time in your life, you didn't have a plan.
The Thousand Sunny cut through the waves with a buoyant, cheerful rhythm that felt like an insult to your current situation.
You were bound to the great mast, the rough texture of the wood pressing against your back. The ropes were looped expertly around your torso and arms—secure, but not so tight that they cut off circulation. They knew you were a flight risk. They knew you were a spring waiting to snap.
So, you did the only thing a cornered animal could do. You became a statue.
You didn't scream. You didn't beg. You simply watched. Your eyes, sharp and dark, tracked every movement on the deck with predatory stillness. Your ears were pulled back tight against your skull, a clear signal of your mood, but it was the only part of you that moved.
Until Nami walked by.
She was lugging a small, ornate chest—the very one you had bled and lied for. She was humming, a pencil tucked behind her ear, already calculating the berries. She set the chest down on a nearby table, the clink of gold echoing across the grassy deck.
The sound triggered something primal in your chest.
Thump.
It was a dull, heavy sound.
Thump. Thump.
Your right hind foot, even bound as it was, struck the deck with a sudden, rhythmic violence. It wasn't a struggle to get free; it was a drumbeat. A warning. In the wild, it was the sound of a hare signaling a predator’s presence, but here, in the heavy silence of the ship, it sounded like a heartbeat of pure malice.
Then came the second sound. A dry, grating noise that set everyone’s teeth on edge.
Grrrr-ck. Grrrr-ck.
You were grinding your teeth—not in pain, but in a rhythmic, vibrating chatter. It was a low-frequency threat, a sound that bypassed the ears and went straight to the nerves of everyone standing on the deck.
Nami stopped mid-calculation, her hand freezing over the gold. She looked over at you, blinking in confusion. "Is... is she okay? Is she having a seizure?"
"No," Zoro said, his voice low. He was sitting cross-legged on the grass, sharpening one of his katanas, but he had stopped his work to watch you. "Look at her eyes. That’s not a seizure. That’s a challenge."
Luffy, who had been hanging upside down from the railing, flipped himself onto the deck and walked over. He tilted his head, leaning in close—too close. Your teeth-grinding grew louder, the vibration visible in the set of your jaw.
"Hey, what’s that sound?" Luffy asked, reaching out to poke your shoulder.
THUMP.
Your foot struck the deck so hard the wood seemed to groan. Your ears flicked forward for a fraction of a second, sharp as blades, before pinning back again.
"She’s warning us," Robin said softly, stepping out from the library. She watched you with that same clinical, yet empathetic curiosity. "Hares and rabbits... they drum their feet to signal danger. To tell the predator they’ve been spotted. And the teeth grinding... that’s a high-stress threat."
"A threat?" Usopp squeaked, taking a strategic step behind Franky. "She’s tied to a mast! What’s she gonna do, vibrate us to death?"
"It’s a promise," Sanji murmured. He was leaning against the galley door, his cigarette unlit, his eyes fixed on your lashing tail. "She’s telling us that the second these ropes come off, someone’s losing a limb."
You didn't break eye contact with Luffy. You didn't stop the drumming. You wanted them to feel the vibration of your anger through the soles of their feet. You wanted them to know that you weren't a pet, and you weren't a guest.
You were the danger they had brought on board.
Luffy didn't pull back. Instead, he grinned—a wide, fearless expression that made your stomach flip. He reached out and adjusted your hood, which had fallen slightly askew during your struggle.
"You’re really loud for someone so quiet!" he laughed. He turned to the others, his voice booming. "I like her! She’s got a lot of spirit!"
He looked back at you, his dark eyes sparkling with a terrifying kind of joy. "Keep doing that! It sounds like music!"
Your teeth-grinding hitched for a second in pure, unadulterated disbelief. He wasn't scared. He wasn't even offended. He was encouraged.
As the sun began to set, casting long, bloody shadows across the Sunny, the crew went back to their chores, but they moved a little more carefully when they passed the mast. They could still hear it—the steady, rhythmic thump of your foot against the wood.
A countdown.
The moon hung high over the Thousand Sunny, casting a silver glow on the grassy deck. Most of the crew had turned in, but the rhythmic thump-thump-thump of your foot against the mast hadn't stopped. It had just gotten quieter, more personal.
A creak from the galley door broke the silence. Sanji stepped out, no longer in his formal jacket, his tie loosened. He carried a small wooden stool in one hand and a plate of steaming, honey-glazed tarts in the other. He approached tentatively, stopping just outside of kicking range.
He set the stool down and sat, sighing as he lit a cigarette. The smoke curled upward toward your twitching ears.
"You’re still at it, then," he said, his voice soft. "The drumming. You’re going to put a hole in the ship, and Franky’s going to cry. He’s a sensitive cyborg."
Grrrr-ck. Grrrr-ck. You ground your teeth at him, the sound vibrating through the wood of the mast. Your eyes remained fixed on the horizon, refusing to acknowledge him.
"Look," Sanji said, rubbing the back of his neck. "I’m sorry. Truly. About the mask. About the kick. And... well, about the kidnapping. Our Captain has the impulse control of a golden retriever with a sugar rush. Once he decides someone is 'fun,' that’s pretty much the end of the debate."
You finally shifted your gaze to him, your nose wrinkling. "You're a cook," you rasped, your voice dry from hours of silence. "Why aren't you in the kitchen making sure the rubber man doesn't eat the pantry?"
Sanji chuckled, a genuine, tired sound. "Locked the fridge. Thrice. He’s currently trying to chew through the lock, but that’ll take him at least another hour." He held up a tart. "I made these. White peach and honey. No poison. I promise."
You stared at the tart. Your stomach, that traitorous organ, let out a sound like a dying sea beast.
"If I untie your hands," Sanji said, leaning forward, "will you promise not to shatter my jaw? I quite like my jaw. It’s essential for tasting sauces."
You narrowed your eyes. You didn't answer, but the drumming of your foot slowed.
He took that as a yes. With a few quick, deft movements, he loosened the upper ropes. Your arms fell to your sides, heavy and tingling. You immediately reached out, snatched a tart, and shoved the entire thing into your mouth.
Your eyes widened. The sweetness hit like a physical punch—floral, warm, and buttery. You reached for another before you’d even swallowed the first.
"Slow down, rabbit," Sanji joked, though his eyes were bright with relief. "I have a whole kitchen full of them."
"Don't call me that," you mumbled through a mouthful of pastry. "And I'm only eating these so I have the energy to strangle your Captain later."
"Fair enough," Sanji said, leaning back on his stool. "Though, if you're going to strangle him, wait until after breakfast. I’m making crepes."
You paused, a third tart halfway to your lips. "Crepes? With the little berries?"
"And whipped cream. Made from scratch."
You slumped back against the mast, a long, frustrated exhale escaping you. Your ears, which had been pinned back for ten hours, finally flopped forward in a moment of sheer culinary defeat. "You people are the worst. You can't just kidnap people and then feed them gourmet pastries. That's... that's psychological warfare."
"It’s worked on most of us," Sanji admitted, grinning. "Nami joined for the money, Zoro joined because he got lost, and I joined because Luffy told me to go find a magical sea. We’re all a little bit broken here. You’ll fit right in."
"I am not fitting in," you snapped, pointing a sticky finger at him. "I am a high-stakes thief. I have a reputation. I have a mask."
"You have crumbs on your chin," Sanji countered.
You hurriedly wiped your face, feeling a flush of heat in your cheeks that had nothing to do with anger. You looked at him—really looked at him—and saw the faint bruise on his shoulder where your kick had landed earlier.
"Does it hurt?" you asked, your voice dropping.
Sanji followed your gaze and shrugged. "A little. But honestly? It was a beautiful strike. Perfect weight distribution. If you hadn't been a girl, I would've been honored to have my ribs broken by it."
"You're an idiot," you sighed, but the corners of your mouth twitched. "A total, chivalrous, baking idiot."
"I've been called worse," he said, standing up and picking up the empty plate. "Get some sleep. I'll leave the hand-ropes loose. If you try to jump overboard, Jinbe will just fish you out again, and he’s much grumpier about late-night swims than I am."
He started to walk away, then stopped, looking back over his shoulder. "By the way... the ears. They’re cute when they flop like that."
Before you could throw the last tart at his head, he slipped back into the galley, whistling a jaunty tune.
You sat back against the mast, the taste of honey still on your tongue. The drumming of your foot had stopped completely. Instead, your tail gave a single, quiet thump against the deck.
Maybe you wouldn't kill them tonight. Maybe you'd wait for the crepes.
The ropes didn't stand a chance against your teeth.
Sanji had left the hand-bindings loose, but he hadn't accounted for the sheer, stubborn sharpness of a hare's incisors. You worked in the dark, the rhythmic scritch-scritch of your teeth muffled by the steady creak of the ship’s hull. Fiber by fiber, the hemp gave way until the final strand snapped. You rubbed your raw wrists, the circulation returning in a painful prickle, and looked toward the railing.
The ocean was a vast, obsidian void. The wind howling off the waves didn't smell like freedom; it smelled like ice. You crept to the edge, peering down at the churning white foam. Your ears, usually so alert, fell flat against your back. You could feel the phantom chill of that water in your marrow—a cold so deep it would stop your heart before you could even kick twice.
No. You weren't a fish, and you weren't a fool.
Instead of jumping, you turned back to the ship, your eyes adjusting to the moonlight. You moved like a ghost, your padded feet making no sound on the grass. You didn't head for the lifeboats or the galley. You looked for the shadows.
Near the back of the deck, partially hidden by a stack of crates, you found it—a heavy wooden grate leading down into the crawlspaces beneath the floorboards. It was cramped, dusty, and smelled of cedar and rope, but it was dry. You slipped inside, pulling the grate back into place with a faint thud.
You curled into a ball in the darkness, your tail tucked tight, listening to the muffled footsteps of the night watch above. You’d wait. You’d wait until the next island, until the ship docked, and then you’d vanish into a crowd.
Morning arrived with a frantic shout that vibrated through the floorboards right above your head.
"SHE'S GONE!"
That was Usopp. You heard the frantic scurry of feet—heavy boots, light sandals, and the steady thump of Luffy’s landing.
"The ropes are chewed through!" Nami’s voice was high with alarm. She sounded genuinely distressed, which surprised you. "Luffy, look at the railing. There are scuff marks. You don't think she..."
A heavy silence followed. You held your breath, pressing your back against the cool wood of the hull.
"The water is freezing this far north," Robin said, her voice uncharacteristically somber. "Even for someone as strong as her... she wouldn't last ten minutes in those currents."
"No way," Luffy said. There was no laughter in his voice now. "She wouldn't just jump. She was too angry to jump."
"I shouldn't have left the ropes loose," Sanji’s voice was a low growl of self-loathing. You heard the metallic clink of his lighter, then a long, shaky exhale. "I thought... I thought we were actually talking. I’m a moron. I let her walk right into a grave."
"Jinbe! Can you see anything?" Franky shouted toward the helm.
"Nothing but blue and foam, Franky," the helmsman called back, his deep voice heavy. "If she went in, the sea has her now."
The mood on the deck shifted instantly. The cheerful, chaotic energy of the Straw Hats vanished, replaced by a thick, mournful quiet. You heard Nami sniffle, and the sound of someone—probably Chopper—letting out a small, heartbroken wail.
"We shouldn't have tied her up," Luffy muttered. You could hear him sitting down right above your hiding spot, the wood creaking under his weight. "I just wanted her to have an adventure. I didn't want her to die."
You sat in the dark, your ears twitching. A strange, uncomfortable knot formed in your chest. They were... sad? They had kidnapped you, stolen your treasure, and tied you to a mast, and now they were mourning you like a lost friend.
It was ridiculous. It was illogical. It was the Straw Hats.
You stayed perfectly still, watching a spider weave a web in the corner of your hiding spot. You told yourself you were staying hidden because it was the smart thing to do. But as you heard Sanji mutter something about "making a memorial meal," your stomach gave a quiet, treacherous growl.
You weren't gone. You were just waiting. But hearing them talk about you in the past tense was starting to make your whiskers twitch with an urge you couldn't quite name.
The crawlspace was a labyrinth of cedar beams and iron bolts, dim and smelling of old sea salt. You pressed your back against a support strut, your ears twitching at every footfall above. The guilt in their voices had been... annoying. It felt like a weight you hadn't asked to carry.
Then, the smell hit.
It started as a faint, buttery whisper drifting through the floorboards. Then came the sweetness—warm berries, simmering sugar, and the unmistakable scent of fresh whipped cream. Your stomach didn't just growl; it staged a full-scale riot. Your mouth watered so instantly you had to swallow hard to keep from making a noise.
Crepes.
You remembered Sanji’s promise from the night before. He was making them. A "memorial breakfast." The irony wasn't lost on you, but neither was the hunger. You waited, your nose wiggling uncontrollably, until the heavy thud of the crew moving toward the dining table signaled the coast was clear.
You pushed the grate up an inch. Quiet.
You slid out like a shadow, belly low to the grass. The morning sun was blinding after the darkness of the hold, but you didn't hesitate. You darted behind a decorative bush, then used the shadows of the railing to reach the galley door.
Inside, the kitchen was a masterpiece of organized chaos. A stack of golden, lace-edged crepes sat on a warming plate near the window, dusted with powdered sugar and topped with a single, perfect blackberry.
You moved.
One moment the plate was full—the next, you were back in the shadows of the hallway, a warm, folded crepe clutched between your teeth. You didn't even chew until you were back in the safety of the dark crawlspace. The taste was a revelation: creamy, tart, and sweet enough to make your tail give a traitorous, happy wag.
Success.
Up on deck, however, the "mourning" was taking a technical turn.
Chopper was sitting near the mast, his small blue nose twitching rhythmically. He looked confused, his little hooves fidgeting with his hat. "Um, guys?"
"Not now, Chopper," Usopp sighed, picking at a piece of dry toast. "I’m too sad to eat. I keep thinking about her cold, soggy ears."
"No, but... I smell her," Chopper insisted, his voice rising. "The scent is fresh! It’s not like old 'she-was-here-yesterday' smell. It’s 'she-was-just-standing-next-to-the-fridge' smell!"
Sanji, who had been leaning gloomily against the counter, snapped his head up. His eyes narrowed, darting around the galley. He walked over to the warming plate and stared. "I made twelve crepes," he whispered, his voice trembling. "There are eleven."
Luffy’s head popped up from the table, a bit of syrup on his nose. "Maybe a ghost ate it?"
"Ghosts don't eat crepes, Luffy!" Nami snapped, but she looked hopeful. "Chopper, are you sure?"
"I’m sure! And look!" Chopper hopped down and pointed to the edge of a crate near the floorboards.
Caught on a splinter of wood was a single, long, silken strand of fur—unmistakably yours.
Robin knelt down, picking up the hair with a soft, knowing chuckle. "It seems our ghost has a very healthy appetite. And she’s much closer than the bottom of the ocean."
Luffy’s face split into a massive, delighted grin. He slammed his fists onto the table. "SHISHISHI! I KNEW IT! She’s playing hide-and-seek!"
"Hide-and-seek?" Zoro grunted, though the corner of his mouth tucked into a smirk. "More like she’s hunting us for snacks."
Sanji didn't look angry. He looked like he’d just won the lottery. He grabbed the plate of crepes and set it directly in the middle of the deck, right near the main grate.
"Oh, what a shame," Sanji said, his voice loud and performative, aimed directly at the floorboards. "I made all these extra crepes with extra whipped cream and triple berries. I suppose I’ll just leave them here since no one is around to eat them. It would be a tragedy if they just... sat here. All warm and delicious."
Under the floor, your ears flattened. You squeezed your eyes shut, your stomach betraying you with another loud, echoing groan.
They knew.
The standoff lasted three hours, and it was a battle of sheer, stubborn will.
Beneath the deck, the air was cooling, and the silence above was far too loud. You knew exactly what they were doing. They weren't pacing; they weren't shouting. They were waiting. You sat with your back against a cedar beam, your ears pulled back so tight they ached. Every few minutes, the scent of the crepes—now slightly cool but still heavy with the aroma of butter and macerated berries—wafted through the gaps in the floorboards.
It was a targeted assault on your senses.
Your stomach let out a sound like a grinding tectonic plate. You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to visualize your old ship, your old life, your dignity—anything but the fluffy, golden-brown edges of those crepes. But then, the sound of a fork scraping against a plate drifted down.
"Man," Luffy’s voice boomed, sounding suspiciously like he was talking with his mouth full. "These are so good. It’s a shame. There’s only three left. I might eat them. I’m really hungry, Sanji."
"Don't you dare, Captain," Sanji’s voice was smooth, projected perfectly toward the deck. "Those are for our guest. Though, if she doesn't show up in, say, five minutes... they’ll probably get soggy. And nobody likes a soggy crepe."
Five minutes.
The ultimatum hung in the air. You felt the twitch in your nose, the restless thump of your tail against the hull. You weren't a pet. You weren't a member of this circus. You were a master thief who had survived on scraps and cunning for years.
But those weren't scraps. Those were triple-berry crepes.
With a silent, frustrated snarl, you placed your hands on the underside of the grate. You didn't burst out. You pushed it up just an inch, peering through the slit.
The crew was gathered in a loose semicircle, a respectable distance away, trying—and failing—to look busy. Zoro was "meditating" with one eye cracked open. Nami was "reading" a map upside down. Sanji was leaning against the railing, light catching the gold of his hair, a fresh plate held out like an offering.
You didn't give them the satisfaction of a slow reveal.
The grate flew upward, clattering against the grass, and you exploded from the dark like a jack-in-the-box. You landed in a low crouch, hair dusty, ears wild and flared out in a defensive fan. You looked like a cornered animal, your chest heaving, your gaze darting from one face to the next.
"I am NOT," you rasped, your voice cracking slightly from disuse, "joining your crew."
Luffy’s grin was so bright it practically radiated heat. "You're alive! Shishishi! I knew the water was too cold for you!"
You ignored him, your eyes locking onto the plate in Sanji's hand. You marched forward, each step deliberate, and snatched the plate with a predatory hiss. You didn't sit. You didn't say thank you. You stood right there in the center of the deck and began to tear into the crepes, the whipped cream smearing across your cheek.
Sanji let out a long, shaky breath of relief, a small, triumphant smile tugging at his lips. "Welcome back to the land of the living, rabbit."
You stopped chewing just long enough to point a fork at him. "This changes... nothing."
"Of course not," Robin said, her voice like velvet as she closed her book. "It simply means you’ve chosen a warm meal over a cold hiding spot. A very logical decision."
"She's so cool!" Chopper squealed, hiding behind Zoro’s leg but peeking out with sparkling eyes. "She survived the floorboards!"
You finished the last bite, licking a stray bit of berry juice from your thumb, and looked at Luffy. He was watching you with that terrifying, unshakable certainty. He didn't look like he’d won a fight; he looked like he’d found a missing piece of his ship.
"You're still tied up at night," Nami warned, though she was smiling. "We aren't falling for the 'chew through the ropes' trick again."
"Try and stop me," you challenged, though the fire in your voice was dampened by the sheer satisfaction of a full stomach.
Your tail gave a single, involuntary flick of contentment. You were trapped, kidnapped, and surrounded by lunatics—but as Sanji reached out to take the empty plate, his fingers brushing yours with a gentle, apologetic pressure, you realized the floorboards weren't going to be enough to keep you away from them for long.
The silence on the deck didn't feel like a standoff anymore; it felt like a soft surrender.
You sat on a small wooden crate, the empty plate balanced on your knees. You were still dusty from the floorboards, a stray cobweb clinging to one of your ears, but the cold, sharp edge of your defiance had been blunted by the warmth of the meal. You didn't look at them, but you could feel their eyes—no longer pitying, just curious.
Sanji didn't move to take the plate immediately. Instead, he leaned against the railing a few feet away, lighting a fresh cigarette. The smoke drifted away from you, a silent gesture of space.
"You missed the fruit parfaits," he said, his voice casual, as if you hadn't just spent twelve hours hiding under the ship's ribs. "I saved the best berries for the ones I put in the hold, but the cream is better when it's fresh."
"I don't care about parfaits," you muttered, though your ears gave a treacherous, rhythmic flick.
Luffy rolled over on the grass, propping his chin on his hands. "You eat like a squirrel! Or a hamster! Fast, fast, fast!" He imitated a chewing motion, his cheeks puffing out.
"I'm a hare," you corrected, the words slipping out before you could stop them. "And we eat fast so predators don't catch us off guard."
"No predators here," Zoro grunted, though he didn't look up from the whetstone. "Just a bunch of idiots and a cook who’s currently wondering if he should make you a snack for lunch."
You glanced at Sanji. He didn't deny it. In fact, he looked like he was already mentally inventorying the pantry. Since the moment your mask had hit the deck, he had transitioned from a formidable combatant into a man on a mission to overfeed you. It was a different kind of combat—one you didn't know how to parry.
The afternoon settled into a strange, domestic rhythm. You stayed on your crate, refusing to join them at the main table, but you stopped growling when they passed. Nami brought over a basin of warm water and a cloth, setting it down without a word. You waited until she walked away before washing the dust from your face and smoothing the fur on your ears.
By midday, the "spoiling" began in earnest.
Every time Sanji stepped out of the galley, he had something. A small bowl of chilled grapes. A slice of toasted brioche with homemade marmalade. A glass of sparkling juice with a sprig of mint. He didn't make a scene of it; he would simply walk by and set it on the crate beside you, sometimes pausing to offer a small, wink-like tilt of his head before retreating.
"He's never been this quiet about swooning over someone," Usopp whispered to Chopper, both of them watching from behind the mast. "Usually there's more spinning and hearts in his eyes."
"He feels bad!" Chopper whispered back, his little hooves over his mouth. "But look! Her tail isn't thumping anymore. It's just... wagging?"
It wasn't wagging. It was a slow, involuntary twitch of contentment that you were trying very hard to suppress.
As the sun began to dip, casting long, golden shadows across the deck, Sanji approached one last time. This time, he didn't have food. He held a small, beautifully carved wooden comb.
"Your hair is still a mess from the crawlspace," he said, stopping just a pace away. He held the comb out, handle-first. "I found this in the storage. It’s sandalwood. Good for... well, for someone with a lot of fur to manage."
You looked at the comb, then at his hands—the hands that had matched your strikes with such terrifying precision, now offering a gift with such careful gentleness.
You took the comb, your fingers brushing his for a second longer than necessary. You didn't say thank you. You couldn't bring yourself to go that far. But you didn't pull away when he sat on the deck near your crate, resting his back against the wood.
"The next island has a great market," Sanji said, looking out at the orange-tinted sea. "They have silks. And masks, if you really want a new one. But I think the crew prefers seeing your face."
You ran the comb through the fur of your ear, the scent of sandalwood filling the air. For the first time since you’d been taken, the ropes didn't feel like they were made of hemp. They felt like the smell of crepes, the sound of Luffy’s laugh, and the steady, quiet presence of the man sitting at your feet.
You weren't a Straw Hat. Not yet. But as you looked at the horizon, you realized you weren't a prisoner anymore, either.
The *Thousand Sunny* sailed through the starlit night, the only sound the gentle rhythmic splashing of the hull against the waves. You were no longer tied to the mast—Luffy had declared it "unfair" since you were now a "special guest"—but you still felt the invisible tether of the man who seemed to have made your comfort his new religion.
You sat on the deck's soft grass, leaning against the railing, the sandalwood comb Sanji had given you resting in your lap. The night air was crisp, making your ears twitch and press closer to your head for warmth.
A shadow lengthened beside you. You didn't need to look up to know the scent of expensive tobacco and clarified butter.
"The stars are different in this part of the Grand Line," Sanji said softly. He didn't sit right next to you, respecting the circle of space you still guarded like a fortress. Instead, he leaned on the railing, looking out at the shimmering water. "They’re sharper. Brighter."
You finally looked up, your nose giving a tiny, involuntary wiggle. "They look cold."
Sanji turned his head, his blue eyes catching the moonlight. He reached into his pocket, but instead of a cigarette, he pulled out a small, silk-wrapped parcel. He set it on the railing between you. "Then it’s a good thing I made this. It’s a hot chocolate tart with a hint of chili. For the circulation."
You reached out, your fingers grazing the silk. You unwrapped it slowly, finding a pastry so delicate it looked like art. You took a bite, and the heat of the chocolate bloomed across your tongue, followed by a tiny, playful spark of spice that warmed your chest.
"You're doing it again," you whispered, the tart halfway to your lips.
"Doing what?"
"Trying to feed the anger out of me."
Sanji let out a short, breathy laugh, his gaze dropping to your boots. "Is it working?"
"Maybe a little," you admitted, your tail giving a single, soft thump against the grass. You looked at him, the moonlight carving the sharp lines of his face. "Why? You almost broke my leg back on the island. You were ready to take me down."
"I was fighting a mask," he said, his voice dropping an octave, becoming serious in a way that made your ears perk up. He stepped a fraction closer, just enough that you could feel the heat radiating from him. "But once that mask fell... I saw someone who wasn't just a thief. I saw someone who was lonely even in a crowd of her own crew. I saw you."
He reached out, his hand hesitating in the air between you. For a second, you thought about flinching, about snapping your teeth—but you stayed still. His fingers, calloused from the kitchen but incredibly gentle, brushed a stray lock of hair behind your ear. His touch was electric, a stark contrast to the cool night air.
"I don't need a protector, Sanji," you said, though your voice lacked its usual bite.
"I know you don't," he murmured, his thumb grazing the soft fur at the base of your ear. The sensation sent a shiver down your spine that made your tail lash once, winding momentarily around his ankle before you caught yourself and pulled it back. "But everyone needs someone to cook for them. Someone to make sure the world doesn't feel quite so cold."
You looked away, your heart thudding a rhythm that had nothing to do with a hare's warning and everything to do with the man standing over you. "The crew thinks I'm going to run at the next port."
"Are you?"
You looked at the tart, then at the sandalwood comb, and finally back at his hopeful, guarded expression. You reached out, your hand hovering over his vest before you rested your palm against his chest. You could feel his heart—steady, fast, and completely honest.
"I might," you whispered, leaning in just enough that your forehead brushed his shoulder. "But I'd miss the crepes."
"Then I'll just have to make sure the breakfast menu is irresistible," Sanji replied. He didn't pull you into a hug, but he rested his hand over yours, his warmth seeping into your skin.
In that moment, the treasure you had hunted on the island felt like lead compared to the weight of his hand in yours. You were a hare in a lion's den, but for the first time in your life, you didn't feel like prey. You felt seen.
As the moon dipped lower, you stayed there together—the thief and the cook—waiting for a dawn that didn't feel like a threat anymore.
The morning sun finally broke through the horizon, painting the sky in soft shades of gold and lavender. The chill of the night began to lift, replaced by the familiar, lively sounds of the Thousand Sunny waking up. Above, the sails snapped gently in the morning breeze, steering the ship toward the silhouette of a new island rising from the mist.
Sanji stayed by your side until the first galley timer dinged, a quiet promise in his eyes before he disappeared to start breakfast. You remained by the railing, watching the distant docks draw closer. For a master thief, a crowded port was the ultimate playground—the perfect place to slip into the shadows, find a new crew, or disappear entirely. The path to your old life was right there, just a few miles away.
"Morning!"
Luffy’s voice boomed from high above as he dropped down from the crow's nest, landing lightly on the grass. He walked over to the railing, leaning over it with his usual boundless energy, before looking sideways at you. He didn't ask if you were going to run. He didn't threaten to tie you up again. He just grinned, trusting the sea and his own instincts.
"Big market on that island," Luffy said, pointing toward the docks. "Tons of food. Adventure too."
You looked at him, then back down at the sandalwood comb in your hands. Your ears tilted forward, catching the distant, rhythmic chopping from the galley and the rich, sweet scent of vanilla and warm dough starting to drift across the deck.
Nami walked past, carrying a fresh set of maps. She paused, offering you a small, knowing smile. "If you're looking to update your wardrobe at the port, the first round is on the ship's budget. Consider it an investment."
"And I'm making berry glazes!" Chopper shouted, running past with a basket of fresh mint, his face lit up with excitement.
You let out a soft, defeated laugh, the last bit of the defensive walls you had built over the years finally crumbling into the sea. These people were chaotic, demanding, and entirely unreasonable—but they were also the first crew that had ever looked at your face instead of your mask.
When the ship finally bumped against the wooden docks of the port, the anchor dropped with a heavy splash. The gangplank was lowered, and the crew began to pile off, laughing and arguing about who got to spend the allowance first.
Sanji emerged from the galley, wiping his hands on a clean towel. He walked over to you, stopping at the edge of the gangplank. He didn't push. He just held out an open hand, waiting.
"Coming?" he asked softly.
You looked at the bustling market ahead, then at his hand, and finally up into his warm blue eyes. Your tail gave a decisive, happy flick behind you. You didn't take the path into the crowd. Instead, you reached out and slid your hand into his, your fingers locking together.
"Only if there are crepes on the way back," you whispered.
Sanji’s smile brightened, a genuine, radiant expression that made the morning sun look dim. "As many as you want."
With your hand in his, you stepped off the ship and onto the new island. You weren't running away from a threat anymore, and you weren't hunting for a lost treasure. You had already found it on the deck of the Sunny, surrounded by the strangest, kindest family the sea had ever known.
Hi yo!!! I have two request for One Piece. If you can't do it, that's completely fine!
1) Strawhats reaction when a person confuses them and Gn!reader as a couple
2) Strawhats having to deal with sick Gn!reader for a day
That's all I have :D Thank you!!! 🫶
Being Confused as a Couple | HCs
Luffy x Reader, Zoro x Reader, Nami x Reader, Sanji x Reader (separate)
a/n: hell yeah, gonna do both! but i’ll start with the first one, also i didn’t write Usopp here nor will on the next cause he (and kinda zoro but he’s on thin ice) is one of the characters i find difficult to write in a romantic setting, idk why, i love them all.
cw: fluff, silliness, leaning more toward anime Sanji instead of live action (cause it’s more fun to write him dramatically).
he’s a really touchy guy, so randomly touches you and others without even realizing it most of the time, it was normal to the crew, that’s just who he was, but when new people saw it, and saw how he’d just hold your hand or hug u randomly they’d just think that you were a couple.
not everyone who thought so mentioned it, mostly just ignoring it, but some got a little too curious.
“so when did you two get together?”, “oh i joined the crew a while back—“ you’d start as Luffy was nodding along shoving some bread into his mouth, “no no no.. when did you start dating?” they’d just ask as if it was the most obvious thing, while Luffy’s head had snapped up with a big look of surprise on his face.
after you’d innocently corrected them and they apologized before leaving flustered, Luffy would get this look in his eyes, just watching you, before… “so we’re dating now.. COOL” he’d grin, “LUFFY—!“.
honestly this is one of the few ways for Luffy to ask someone out lol, cause when would he ever if the opportunity wasn’t presented to him blatantly, he just wouldn’t think of it as something he could do otherwise.
someone could ask him to his face and he still wouldn’t connect the dots that they thought that you and him were a couple.
it’d take seeing you flustered trying to explain it to them for it to really hit him, ‘wait- why are they so flustered? what’s the problem with what they said- wait a minute…’ and the the lightbulb flickered on, “oh..”.
he’d just walk up behind you and wrap an arm over your shoulder, pulling you to his side, just starring blankly at them till they’d leave, as you’re stood frozen, your anxiety calming a bit as you no longer had to try and over explain to that person anymore.
but getting hit with an arrow of butterflies when he leaned close to your ear and whispered “what’s the matter sugarcup..?”, your eyes just slowly moving toward him to see that smug smirk on his face, oh he knew exactly what he’s doing.
wouldn’t happen often, but the one time it did, you were out having dinner while the rest of the crew had gone off someplace else, and the waiter came over taking your orders, adding an “your such a cute couple by the way” as they made casual conversation, which of course confused the both of you, but then Nami got an idea, and she’d 100% play into it.
making up a toothacheingly sweet story about how you two got together to pull on their heartstrings before slipping in a small “oh and today’s our 5 year anniversary!”, and just like that you got your meal on the house, plus a dessert with a bottle of wine too.
you’d just look away too flustered to correct her, waiting till after the waiter’s gone before quietly asking what the hell just happened!?
“oh nothing to worry about sweetheart, just enjoying this precious time with the love of my life, having this FREE meal” she’d sigh with a smirk, giving you a wink as she took a bite of her dessert.
as you’d get up to leave for the night she’d link arms with you, resting her head on your shoulder, ‘oh now she’s really selling it alright’ you’d think before she actually leaned in and gave you a small peck by your lips, “we should do this more often, shouldn’t we my love?”.
of course the most flirty guy in the world gets confused a lot to be in relationships with whomever he’s showing affection towards, when viewed by strangers.
so one day where you and him were out shopping and restocking the ship, a random group of elder women came by and talked a little louder than they thought, “aww look at them, such a handsome couple” caught your ears like lightning, then the more confident one stepped closer to you asking “how long have you been together sweetheart?”.
being too confused you didn’t even realize what it did to Sanji, the second he heard those words in relation to you and him, he got such heart eyes.
swooning all over the place “awwwww wouldn’t that just be so wonderful~ wouldn’t it?” he’d say with a singsongy hum, giggling all silly.
and you’d have to stand there ignoring how he’s hugging you from behind, snuggling his face into your neck as you plainly explain to the person that you two were not in a relationship, meanwhile sanji still to blissed out in fantasy land to hear any of it.
Multi character x Fem Reader, story, fluff, reversed Isekai, hurt/comfort, crack. Summary: A reversed Isekai where OP characters are thrown into your life as cats, and you discover the mystery of it all while dealing with your own ‘earthly’ troubles.
Word count: 5.4k |Master-List|
3 4(here) 5
A/N: I SWEAR I DIDN’T ABANDON YALLL, I went through a really bad writers block, but I’m still in love with this story and I’m not giving up on it! I got past the hard part, and now all my ideas are flowing.
Alsooo, when you get to the part; who do you think the mysterious messenger is? What kind of past might reader have? And when might our antagonists finally show…
•—•—•—••—•—•—••—•—•—••—•—•—••—•—•
After treating the green one eyed cat, you had let the stiff creature roam free from the confines of your bathroom. He wasn’t a fan of your affection, as everytime you pet, or picked him up—a begrudging growl would rumble throughout his little chest. Regardless of the cat’s stubborn nature, it only made you grow fond of the poor thing.
Imagine having one eye… you can barely see with two, always losing your things left and right. Of course not everyone was like that, but still. It must suck.
Rubbing your eyes, you tiredly lock eyes with the worried pink cat, before stepping out from the bathroom. Luffy surges forward, tackling Zoro into another warm hug; resulting in a pained groan from the green cat.
“Shishi—took you long enough!” “Yeah..” Zoro wheezes, stiff as a board. “Missed you too.”
Chopper rushes forward, prying the idiot from his crewmate with an oddly strong grip. “Be careful, Luffy!” He says, eyes worried.
“She just took all that time wrapping him up, don’t undo everything…”
“Eh?! I’m not!”
“You kinda are.” Franky sighs, resting his forehead into his paw. Looking up, he watches you crouch with a curious expression.
“You guys sure are something else…” you mumble, resting your hands on your knees. Tilting your head to the side, you spot the orange cat approaching you. She locks eyes with you, as if communicating something.
Is she finally understanding?! Nami thinks, eyes shining with hope. A row of meows escape her, and the others follow—but it doesn’t make sense to you. They’re just cats, they had to be. There couldn’t be another explanation, could there? No. They’re cats, them being anything else would be crazy-talk.
Shrugging off the idea, you figured they were just… special. Lowering your head, you eventually let out a soft yawn. “I don’t know about you guys but I’m going to bed…”
“Ugh, not again!” Nami groans, “She’s clueless!” “No kidding…”
“Robin what do we do?!”
“Honestly? I’m not quite sure.” She admits, pondering on the thought. “This whole situation is quite absurd…”
“Not even the smartest person on the crew knows what to do…” Brook says slowly, looking to the side as Usopp melts dramatically into the floor. “We’re so cooked.” The sniper mumbles, letting out a long huff into his arms.
“God end me now…”
Pushing up from your spot, you yawn softly. “I have work after tomorrow too..” you say quietly, turning around. Nami meows after you in protest, but you’re already walking into your room, oblivious as ever.
“You’ve, GOT. To be kidding me.”
“How did you guys manage to get caught up with such an airhead?” Ussop mumbles into the floor, absolutely defeated.
“She is NOT an airhead!” Sanji suddenly snaps, aura leaking, and radiating from down the hall. “Don’t ever call a woman that!”
Usopp runs rigid, realizing what he said aloud. Quickly scrambling up, he hides behind Brook for protection… yet the skeleton seems rather rattled himself. “Hey! He’s not gonna save you, take it back and apologize to the lady!”
“Yohoho, I really won’t! Angry Sanji is not my cup of tea!”
“She can’t even understand me! And I was just joking—“ letting out a nervous laugh, Nami can only groan at their antics.
“What the hell are we going to do…” she whispers, looking at her paws in thought.
“Well, we could just get to know her.” Luffy suggests, “become friends, and she’ll eventually understand us!”
Oddly enough… Nami doesn’t immediately shut that down. “You aren’t that far off, perhaps we just act more… human-like, and find a way of contact?” Robin suggests.
“She seemed suspicious just now, did she not?” …
Silence echoes, and Nami painfully blinks. Had Luffy just… created another plan?
Humiliated—and dumbstruck, Nami sits rigid, head lowering yet again. “You know what, why do I even try?”
Zoro walks over to Nami, expression calm. “It’s alright, we can’t all be winners.”
“Says the cat who got babied…” The swordsman face run’s red, and he quickly turns the other way. “Shut up. I did not.”
“You so did, Zoro.” Naz scoffs at the thought, smirking. “And you loveddd it—“
“I DID NOT!”
“Shishi, that’s a good idea Robin! Let’s do it!” “Wait, what are we doing?” Chopper asks, looking up from Zoro’s bandaged arm. He’s must have been fixated on making sure Zoro’s been okay this entire time…
“We’ll just fill you in later, bud.” Franky sighs, laughing quietly under his breath.
_________________________________________
The next morning…
Stirring from the gentle shine of the sun, Sanji’s eyes weakly unglue. He shifts on the couch, crushed by the light weight of Chopper… who’s accompanied by Luffy and Usopp.
Since when had that happened?
Crawling out from underneath the pile, he slips off the furniture shaking the sleep from his eyes. Running off the sleep the schedule from the Thousand Sunny, Sanji felt rather groggy.
“Ugh, what time is it,” he mutters, looking into the kitchen.
“Ugh, I can’t smoke and I can’t cook…” he walks painfully into the room, longingly gazing at the cupboards. “What kind of hell is this?”
Thrown out of his comfort zone, he slowly walks around the tiled island, almost stepping on a pile of shattered glass.
“What the…? When did this happen?” His brows furrow, as he tries to recall what happened last night. Huh, that must’ve been before him and Zoro had caught up with you.
“This world seems to be more stressful than others.” Robin suddenly comments, sitting up atop the counter. “She dropped a glass, and collapsed from exhaustion...”
Sanji’s eyes widen, and he tenses. God, he could really use a cigarette right now.
“So,” Sanji voice drawls, avoiding the mess of shards. “She’s got stuff going on?” He asks, walking around the other way. “An understatement, but yes.” Robin answers, rather bluntly.
“I was looking through her bag, and it turns out she moved here recently. Doesn’t have any sort family connections, either; from what I can tell…”
“And you figured that all out, from just looking through her bag?”
“Correct. It seems people in this world carry lots of information with them, she had an ID and all…”
Sanji perks up at that, eyes curious. “What’s her name? Age?” Personally, he thought you looked to young to be living alone. He atleast expected you to live with a roommate of the sorts… but that wasn’t the case, and you seemed rather lonely.
“Her name’s, ___. And she’s __, everything seems awfully new, so nothing out of the ordinary.” Robin says thoughtfully, looking out the kitchen window. It’s almost as if there was a reason you had everything with you, as if you were prepared for something...
“Hm,” Sanji hums, looking at the mess infront of him in thought. Pretty name… pretty face… nothing out of the ordinary, so you really were just unlucky enough to stumble across them?
Well, that crosses off any doubts he had about you, not that he had much to begin with. It’s just, for some reason, there was this radiating pull towards you.. It was rather strange.
“Luckily, ” Robin suddenly starts, “There isn’t a difference in language, other than us being cats, so if we can just figure out how to communicate with her another way, we should be alright.”
Sanji nods, pushing a few pieces of glass into a pile with the back of his paw. “Sound’s like a solid plan…”
“Not necessarily, but we’ll try,” Robin chuckles, “Nami mentioned trying to write, but she couldn’t because of her paws, yet I have a feeling there’s another way around that.”
“Do you remember that black box she always carries around?”
Sanji perks up at that, thinking back to last night. You’d been scrolling on it in bed for hours, showing endless amounts of videos and messages… (not that he’d been staring the entire time, you’d just been too pretty to ignore.)
“So, we’re gonna try and input stuff on it?” He asks, looking up.
“Precisely, it’s just a matter of being able to get ahold of it.”
_________________________________________
Waking up to the obnoxious sound of your alarm, you groan turning your head further into your pillow. Was it really Sunday, already? What happened to your relaxing weekend… so much for rest.
Shifting your arm, you shut off the clock’s alarm and slowly rise from your bed, tired as ever. Weakly lifting your head, it tilts forward when a dizzying spell washes over you.
Ugh, you could just go back to bed for the rest of the day…
Pushing your frizzy hair back, a soft meow stirs you further awake. Looking down, the long-nosed cat stares timidly at you, nudging your knee with his forehead, then, he gleams at you with excited eyes. “Huh? What’re you trynna tell me, hm?”
Before you can pet him, he hops off your bed heading into the living room. Speaking of cat’s, where was everyone, now? You swore more went to bed with you—glancing back, your clock reads 11am. Wow, no wonder it’d been going off…
How many times had you deliriously hit ignore?
Rubbing your eyes, you decide to get up and feed the cats. Crawling out of bed, you slip on some comfortable socks and a warm sweatshirt; enjoying the dusk of your cozy afternoon.
Looking outside, it’s an on-set downpour. Rain clatters against your window, while a constant wind blows at the willow trees—leaving leaves, to flutter and fall past your home. Checking outside, piles of dark green and yellowish leaves continuously clutter in your backyard.
Truth be told, as exhausting as Sunday’s were, you didn’t mind them. They always felt gloomy one way or another, either because of the horrible weather, or upcoming dread of the week, but you loved them at times.
It may also be, because you felt no-one expected anything of you, as this was everyone’s rest day. No work, no cleaning, just pure good earned rest.
“Meoww!!” Flinching from surprise, you look back to find the calico and pink cat at your door. They looked excited, as if proud to show you something they’d done. Like toddlers showing their parents a newly done drawing.
“What’s gotten into you guys..?”
Following the two out, you half expect your living room to be an utter mess. Especially after last night; as you’d crashed into your table, sending books and cups flying, while glass had previously shattered in your kitchen. However, much to your surprise, there was nothing.
Everything was clean, and not even a single speck of dirt was noticed.
“How…”
Blinking, you shift and to rub your eyes, again. Had you cleaned everything before going to bed? You must have, but.. gosh, everything that happened last night was a blur.
“See, told you she’d love it.” Sanji says, sitting comfortable on the sofa’s ledge, “Women love a tidied house.” He adds pridefully, ego shining and smile lifting. Stars twinkle around him, like he’s some charming prince.
”Yeah! She looks super surprised!” Luffy laughs, jumping up on the counter beside you—along with Chopper, and Zoro who’s already resting at the dining table, situated on a pink fuzzy table cloth.
“Uhh… sure.” Nami mutters, watching you slowly lean against the counter with disbelief. “I think she’s currently rethinking her life choices, but whatever you guys think.”
“Perhaps, it was a bit too much to start with.” Robin says thoughtfully.
”You think?” Nami raises a brow.
”Well, it was a nice thing to do, no?” Brook interrupts, “I’m sure she’ll appreciate it when the time comes…”
Usopp sketchily nods, watching you rub your eyes again. “Uh-huh, sure.”
Despipte your denial, the Straw Hat’s had cleaned your house. The glass had been carefully swept up by Sanji and Franky, while the others tended to the living room. It hadn’t taken long with 9 people, especially since the crew worked well together, even if they were in the bodies of cats…
“I must’ve just cleaned it last night, right?” you mutter to yourself. Letting out a groan, you lean tiredly into your shiny counter-top.
“Ugh, I’m too tired to think.” Pushing up, you stretch your arms overhead. “I’m just gonna take a shower..”
—————————————————————
Later that afternoon, you sit comfortably on your couch while scrolliing on your phone. Today, the cats had been much more chatty than normal, meowing at you as if they were trying to talk to you, attempting to get your attention, but… not like any other normal cat. No, these ones had a mind of their own.
And each of them had incredibly different personalities.
Like earlier, when you’d taken a shower and walked out of the bathroom, with only a sports bra and shorts.
The long nosed cat had screeched, covering his eyes with his paws… while the white colored cat, resembling a skeleton—went completely red… leaving the yellow cat, who’d just turned the corner, burst out in a cartoony nosebleed, collapsing back like some dead rodent. Twitching like one too.
Short to say, you were surprised, but not weirded out. Not yet, anyways. You’ve never had animals before, so you didn’t know what to expect. Perhaps this was just a norm you weren’t accustomed to, right?
Silence…. Right?
The next strange thing you witnessed, was the ‘friendship’ between the yellow and green cat, and the orange one who always beat them up. It’d happened a million times now, but the way she scolded them was something else, even making you drop a sweat, and shudder back. Thank god you weren’t them…
The long-nosed cat seemed to agree, always cowering behind you with the pink one—fearing for their life. Which, honestly, you couldn’t blame them. Every-time it happened, which was a lot, the two troubl makers would always come out with a scratch or two.
The third strange thing that had hit you, was literal. You’d been making lunch for yourself; a simple sandwich with chicken, mayonnaise, mustard and your favorite slice of cheese, when the calico had jumped onto your counter like some wild beast.
The yellow cat appeared out of nowhere, defending your food like he’d done it a hundred times before, pummeling the calico into the ground with an exasperated expression.
“Get out of her kitchen, you stupid rubber idiot!”
The experience left you clutching your pearls, or well, food in your case. However, when watching the cat sulk, and slowly leave, he watched you with pleading eyes across the living room; as if begging for your food… which you’d obviously given into, ripping off a small piece of your snack.
The bread and cheese had been swallowed whole in seconds, which left you questioning if he’d never eaten before, but the calico seemed content nonetheless.
Now, sitting exhausted in your seat, it’s only 3 o’clock. This had all happened in the span of a few hours, and as you read one of your book’s, expecting a small moment of peace and quiet… you feel eyes lingering behind you.
Turning to check, you spot the calm dark, purple colored cat, and she seems to be reading with you, as if understanding every word as her eyes trace the page in-front of you.
“A romantic story indeed…” Her expression narrows, as if focusing. (Meow..)
”Huh?” Blinking, you let out a soft sigh and set down your book with a clasp.
Leaning your head back, you close your eyes…
RING
Your phone buzzes, vibrating again and again until you pick it up. “Ugh, who’s blowing up my phone, now?”
It’s an unkown number, and they seem to be spamming you with messages.
”Hey hun, just wanted to let you know i’m back in town!”
“I’ll come stop by your work place and see how things are, I can’t wait to see you!”
Who…?
”And yes, I know you blocked me, but I got a new number! Aren’t you happy?!”
Going rigid, your eyes widen. When did she—a noise echoes from the kitchen making your phone jostle in your hands. You accidentally click on her pfp, and all the messages she had sent you, show read.
“No, dammit—!” letting out a curse, you toss your phone down and turn away from it.
”Shit, what do I do? She’s gonna know I..”
As if on cue, your phone continues to buzz, vibrating agaisnt the glass coffee table with a condescending urgency. Your eyes fill with tears, and you let out another curse.
”Wait—“ Quickly picking up your phone again, you hurriedly open your phone to call your boss. She doesn’t know where you live, maybe where you work, but if you can just not show up, she’ll never have see you… and you won’t have to lay on eyes on her, again.
”Hangie, please pick up.” you beg, fingers gripping your phone tight. Pacing your living room, your heart races, chest aching.
“Come on, Hangie…”
“Woah, what’s going on?” Franky asks, from the kitchen, ears perking up.
”I’m not sure,” Robin says, watching you with concerned eyes.
”Her phone was buzzing, maybe someone she doesn’t want to talk to, got a hold of her?”
As if on cue, Sanji eyes flare. “Anyone who makes my, __ cry is gonna get it!”
”Hold on, tiger—we don’t even know what’s going on.” Nami quickly passes him, jumping up onto the table beside you. She meows, attempting to get your attention, but you don’t even spare her a glance.
You seemed desperate, and much too fixated on your phone.
“Nono, she can’t—ugh please answer Hangie…” Calling your boss one more time, the anticipation builds, and the gruelling ringtone blares in your ears. Seconds feel like forever, and when a robotic voicemail echoes, your heart drops.
You let out a frustrated groan, throwing your phone onto the floor. Chopper’s ears droop when your screen cracks, his expression worrying when you cover your face, and collapse into the couch with a shaky breath.
The slapping sound echoes throughout the apartment, getting the attention of the rest of the crew… followed by a row of weak curses. Zoro peeks out from down the hall with Brook, as they spot you bury your face in your hands, with a teary expression.
The swordsman goes rigid, looking back to Brook who looks just as confused as him.
“What’s goin’ on?” He asks gruffly, walking into the living room. “Why’s she crying?”
”We’re trying to figure that out, too…” Franky mutters, watching Luffy nudge your arm, attempting to soothe you.
“She won’t even look up.”
”Robin, Nami, can you see anything on that thing?” Sanji asks, watching the two hover over your phone. They seem to be messing around with it, on their paws, eyes focused—and much concerned. It’s not everyday someone breaks out crying from a few notifications on the phone… but, Robin figured it was much more than that.
“It doesn’t say who, but they seem to be wanting to see her,” Nami says, looking back to you. She frowns when you gently push Luffy away, letting out a shuddering breath.
“How did she even get my number?” you mutter to yourself, voice laced with frustration. “I literally blocked her, there’s no way she could’ve gotten it!”
Zoro’s eyes narrow when you mention a ‘she.’
So, some girl was giving you trouble then, huh? Was that what all this living alone thing, was about?
Rubbing your tears away, you let out a frustrated groan. Moving to pick up your phone, you carefully brush past Nami and Robin who watch you expectantly…
“Dammit, how do I get out of this?” you mutter, glimpsing over the screen.
”Oh, you actually read my messages! I’ll see you tomorrow then, hun.” Cringing, you exit out of messages and look to your call-list.
Who else could you contact to try and get out of work? Maybe a friend could clock in for you—maybe… Maddie. She didn’t usually work monday’s, but you could try, and if anything you could just make an excuse on why you can’t go, and she could contact your boss for you.
She’s close with her anyways, and Maddie knows you well. You never skip unless you have to. Quickly hitting her contact info, your phone rings again, echoing throughout the living room.
”Who’s she trying to call, now?”
”I’m not sure, but she looks less worried..”
Luckily, the call get’s answered. “Maddie?” you ask quickly, “Hey, you there?” “__? Yeah? What’s goin’ on? You sound horrible!”
Sniffling, you let out an uneasy laugh. “Nono, I’m fine! I mean—I’m not, I think im coming down with a fever.”
”Fever?” Chopper blinks, looking up at you. “But you arent burning up at all…”
”It’s an excuse, Chopper.” Robin says, “I think she’s trying to get out of work.” “But why?” Sanji asks, “She seems to love being busy…”
”It’s to avoid whoever wants to see her, that girl—or who texted her and said she was gonna stop by her work.”
”Oh..” Chopper mutters, ears drooping. “She seemed so upset about it, I thought it was more than that.”
“It might just be,” Robin says carefully, watching you try and make an excuse for yourself.
“Oh! I’m so sorry to hear, do you need me to fill in, love?”
”Uh—yes!” you answer too quickly, sniffling again. Wiping your tears, you let out a relieved breath, “Yes, I mean yes please, I owe you one!”
”Love, you’re totally fine! That’s why I’m around, to help—don’t worry about it!”
”Still, thank you so much Maddie…”
”Dont. Worry, about it, you’re completely fine.” She says firmly, “Just rest as much as you can, I’ll let Hangie know for you.”
”Thank you!”
”Hangie must be her boss, huh..” Sanji mutters, solemnly, quietly wishing for a cigarette. “Yeah, Maddie’s probably a friend or smth,” Usopp adds, watching you hang up, and slowly set down the phone.
Everyone watches you let out a breath, collapsing into the coffee table again…. A moment goes by before Franky speaks up, “So, someone’s probably giving her trouble.”
”Yeah, but the question is who. And why…”
Zoro sighs, looking away for a moment before speaking up. “You know, it’s not our business. Besides, we’re cats and we can’t do anything about it.”
Sanji tenses, sending a glare Zoro’s way. “That’s a lie, we can always do something!”
”Really?” The swordsman raises a brow, challenging the cook.
”You know for a fact we can’t, look around. Look at yourself in a mirror.”
“You—“
“Remeber you two, she already handled it. The woman wanted to see her at work, and now she’s not going.” Robin interrupts before an argument can ensue.
“Zoro’s right, it’s not our business. It’s her personal life.” Chopper watches quietly, looking up to Luffy who sits beside you rather tensely.
”But, Robin, you looked through her thing with Nami—“
”Yes, to make sure it wasn’t anything dangerous.” Robin says factually, “We know nothing of this world, and nothing of her life. We still don’t know how we got here.”
Usopp shifts, “She’s right, and we still don’t know how to get back…” Silence echoes, leaving an uncomfortable ache to fill the room.
”Man, this sucks.” Franky mutters, “Not super, at all.”
“No kidding…” Sanji grumbles, watching you wipe your tears.
——————————————————————
Later that night, your home was rather quiet compared to the chaotic morning. Even Luffy—who was up and running around, sat moping on your couch with a few others, as they watched a movie you’d put on for them.
You stand quietly in the kitchen making dinner, glancing over your shoulder every now and then.
Even you felt the shift… and you silently wondered if it was your fault. You’d nudged Luffy away earlier, when you were crying, but that wouldn’t explain everyone else.
Shifting the steaming pan in hand, you toss the grilled veggies to put them on some rice. Smoke rises overhead, being sucked into the whirring fan and oven exhaust, overhead.
Clicking softly with your tongue, you offer some treats in a few small bowls you’d placed near the back-door.
But, no one comes, not even the food-crazy Calico. Standing alone in the kitchen, you sigh.
You must be missing something, but nothing has worked. Not treats, pets—cuddles, going outside—nothing peaked their interest. You felt horrible, and you didn’t know why. They were just cat’s so… why did you feel so hurt, and emotional over their apparent struggle?
Could cats get depressed, too?
Well, at-least you could satisfy one of them. Earlier, after that episode of emotions, the calmest cat here had been messing with your phone in the living room, attempting to scroll and click buttons, as if it was a toy. You found it funny, so you let her have it while you kept yourself busy. You didn’t need to be procrastinating on it anyways…
“Everyone, I think I’ve got it.” Robin mutters, clicking on an empty google document.
“It’s hard to maneuver, but I think she’ll understand.”
“Really?!” Brook and Luffy chime, hurrying over. Nami’s ears perk up as she looks up from the couch. “What, how!? This thing’s so advanced, compared to any normal transponder snail…”
”Well it says on the buttons what things are, and the lettering is quite easy to understand if you can get the hang of it.” Her voice trails off in thought, “I think it’s what they call a keyboard.”
”Shishi! You’re so cool Robin!”
”Wow..” Usopp mutters, coming up from behind Luffy.
“So, we can really try and talk to her?” Sanji asks, eyes hopeful. “Do you think it’ll work?”
”Yes, someone just needs to get her attention…” “Oh! I’ve got it!” Luffy beams, immediately meowing as loud as he can.
“Luffy—!“
”Ow!” you wince, covering your ears. You think that’s the loudest you’ve ever heard him, and so out of the blue after everything… and that’s coming from the loudest cat here.
”What’s wrong?!”
Quickly passing the counter, you step over Zoro who sits like a rock—watching you with a flat expression. “Sorry, you wouldn’t move!”
“Meow..” You coulda’ asked.
Rounding the sofa, you see all the cats grouped together in a small circle…
Which reminds you of the time you found the first three; huddled together in a cardboard box, with a makeshift toy candle in the middle of them.
“What’s…”
A few of them meow, as if signaling you to come closer. Curiously, you kneel down and look to your phone, which they still seem to be fixated with. “Huh? How long have you been messing with this??”
Glancing at the purple cat, she gestures gently with her paw to the phone’s screen. Looking down… a written in google doc stands before you, and it’s not one you recognize working on.
Your eyes widen.
”Wait—did you—“ leaning over some of the cat’s, you read what’s typed.
Please don’t panic, we’re not aliens, and we aren’t cat’s either. We’re human, and someone made us this way, and we can’t get home.
Pausing, you read the message before you, again… and again.
Was this really happening? After the last few days, and all the weird things that you’ve experienced with these cats, they… really were, people?
Leaning back, you sit expressionless on your knees. It would make sense, but—god this is too crazy.
“This isn’t real…”
Robin gestures to the phone again, awkwardly moving her paws to type the next sentence.
It is very real, and we need your help.
”Oh.. you understand me. Wait—you’re typing my language of course you can understand me.” Rambling quietly to yourself, you blink, gently shaking your head.
”I’m sorry to hear that, that’s gotta be crazy…” A bunch of the cats nod, but Sanji—the yellow one, seems to be the most irritated. He’s probably missing his entire life right now…
“Uhm, well, Who… turned you? Do you know?” Based off their next reaction, they clearly don’t. The green cat growls—if that’s even possible as a cat, as if grumbling something underneath his breath. “Ok, I’ll take that as a no, then.”
Rubbing the back of your neck, you look around for an answer.
“Well, do you know where you live?”
The cat before you texts again; We believe we aren’t from here.
Huh?
”Like, out of town? Or out of state?” various heads shake, and your voice withers. “…Country?”
We believe we aren’t from this world.
You blink, slowly, and painfully as you process.
”Alright, uh, ok…” you rub your face again, whispering quietly to yourself. “Im not crazy, im NOT crazy, this is happening, and this is very real.”
Pinching yourself sharply, you wince shifting your forearm. You let out a long breath, watching carefully as the cat types again.
My name is Robin, and the two beside you are Usopp and Zoro. Brook is the white cat across from you.
The three cats nod in response, but the only thing you can imagine is the fact that you’d been babying these animals, correction—people for the last few days. Ugh, how embarrassing but, that would explain all the human-like qualities, how had you convinced yourself they weren’t people?
Talk about utter denial…
Shaking your head, you let out an embarrassed laugh. ”Oh—well, nice to meet you?”
“Meow!” Nice to meet you too.
The one yelling beside you is Luffy, and to my right is Nami, and the two to my left is Chopper and Franky in that order.
Slowly, you adjust to their names, instead of just calling them all ‘kitty kitty…’
You’d still been deciding names, calling them makeshift nicknames along the way. The most accurate one you’d managed, was Thing 1 and Thing 2, and that was only for Luffy and Nami.
”It’s nice to know your names—I think, thank you Robin,” you say, looking all of them over. “I’m not really sure what to say, I didn’t even know magic existed until now…”
”Huh?!” Usopp and Nami blurt, “There’s nothing like that here?”
Robin quickly types again; So I’m assuming you don’t know anything about this? You chuckle, gently shaking your head. “No, I’m sorry I don’t..”
The cat in-front of you nods, then she looks to Nami as they seem to discuss something.
Then, as if deciding, she begins to type again.
Will you be willing to let us stay here, knowing we’re people and from another world?
…Would you?
You’ve already had them in your home for awhile, and it’s not like you didn’t mind the company..
But, you knew nothing about these people. Sure, maybe their names, but not where they were from or who they really were…
“I…” your words trail off, and you quietly look to Luffy. In the reality of it all; you never felt unsafe once, even if they were just in the bodies of cats. They had cleaned your home, attempted to comfort you, and never once showed a single sign of hostility…
It couldn’t hurt, could it? Letting out a sigh, you smile softly. “You can, I’m not just gonna kick you out,” you chuckle, resting your hands on your knees.
“I’ll do anything I can to help, but I uhm, don’t know much about whatever’s going on, but you can stay here as long as you need.”
Collectively, the group seems to relax, letting out quiet exhales.
Thank you, we really appreciate it.
Luffy walks up to you, beaming with a loud meow.
“Of course, anytime,” you mutter, letting out a sigh as you gently pet his head. “It’s just a lot to wrap my head around, I mean…”
Looking around, 9 cats—or well, 9 people surround you looking at you with curious eyes.
“Hmm, well what are you going to do in the meantime?” Everyone seems to go quiet at that, unsure of what to say, until Nami walks over to the phone, clumsily inputting a message.
Is thre a library aruond here?
You blink, nodding. “Yeah, there’s actually one down the street from here!” Nami seems to light up at that, quickly texting again.
Do yuo think you could take us?
“Uhh… not tonight, it’s Sunday, and everything’s closed,” you start, watching her face, “But, sometime tomorrow I could take you?”
She lights up, and you smile in relief.
“Alright, then it’s settled! I’ll take some of you guys in tomorrow.”
Are there any special habits or things the Straw Hats do only with the Reader?
For example:
Zoro unconsciously reaches for the Reader's hand whenever they're near each other because it helps him orient himself. Whenever he has to part with his precious katanas, he entrusts them to the Reader. If the Reader isn't much of a drinker but doesn't want to be rude, so they accept the drink, Zoro always extends his hand and, without asking, drinks all the alcohol. The same goes if the Reader has a taste for drink and justifies it by saying it's because "taking care of a drunk is a pain in the ass," but they're only doing it to annoy you a little. He usually trains where he knows you can see him because part of him likes you watching him train to get stronger, so don't be surprised if you find him lifting weights in the kitchen before Sanji kicks him out. He's thought about naming one of his katanas after you more than once, and finally, Zoro thinks your scar is sexy. Like, he knows what happened could have cost you your life, but the fact that you not only survived but saved Ace and became stronger is something that sometimes makes his face a little flushed if he thinks about it a lot or if you have it exposed (when he's drunk, he puts a hand on your waist with his fingers feeling the scarred skin under the fabric, and if you ask him, he'll just say he was drunk and doesn't remember anything like that; the red tips of his ears say otherwise).
•————————•
Chopper gives you a medical check-up every week and buys sweets you like and puts them in a bowl so you can have one each time he finishes. You're the only one he trusts enough to let him help when he changes his ornaments, and he's even considered giving you one of his horns. He usually follows nutritious diets based on your checkups with Sanji. When he's scared, he "hides" behind your legs. Chopper makes you carry a backpack with a first-aid kit for any medical situation you might need.
•————————•
Luffy eats the first bite of Reader's plate to "make sure" there's no poison (Sanji always hits him for even suggesting such a thing), and he forces Reader to do the same. When Reader and Luffy sleep together, they always end up tangled up as if someone were watching them and couldn't tell where Luffy begins and you end up, but his hands always end up on your scar as if he wants to hide it between his fingers. You and he need to sit down to eat at the same time, otherwise he'll drag you along. He unconsciously starts adopting some of your tastes, eating more salty or spicy foods and developing a slight dislike for sweet or bitter flavors. He saves the cherries for last because you told him they're the best part. He adds lemon to almost all his food when he notices you do too. He pays more attention to the textures of his food instead of just gulping it down when he sees that you're taking that into account. When Reader isn't around, he constantly glances around, hoping they'll reappear. He wants Reader, and only Reader, to give him a piggyback ride when he's tired, unless it's a life-or-death situation.
•————————•
Nami chooses clothes for you as if she picked out half your wardrobe herself, and by "coincidence," many of the items match her own outfits. She'll ask for the jacket/sweater/coat you're wearing with the excuse that she's cold or that it doesn't match, and she'll keep it for a few days; you might even see it on Robin's shoulders. She has a small, hidden savings for things like anniversaries and birthdays so she can buy you nice things without breaking the bank. She'll put you in debt, but you never have to pay in berries like everyone else; she wants you to pay with your time and attention. So you'll be her little helper in the mandarin orchard for a long time while you listen to her complain about X and Y.
(She forces you to put all the money and jewelry she steals in your backpack.)
•————————•
Sanji keeps a small notebook in his jacket pocket with information about temperatures, spices, allergies, meats, textures (this also applies to spoons or forks; if he notices a spoon doesn't feel right in your mouth, he'll take note and find one that's more comfortable), etc., that you like and dislike. He'll have it with him whenever he goes grocery shopping. He won't have anything in his kitchen that you might dislike or that could cause allergies, but if you have a particular preference, he'll always keep a little extra just for you in the pantry. He smokes less when you're around, not only because it could harm you, but also because your presence is more relaxing than a cigarette. He likes it when you wash the dishes while he cooks, and occasionally passing him some spices makes him daydream about a cozy home life with you. His eyebrow changes shape to a heart whenever he talks to Reader. He also likes to tickle Reader with his raspy beard.
•—————————•
Franky writes small project ideas about Reader's hobbies on the sides of his blueprints. If an idea is getting a little tedious, he takes a break and starts writing things in the corners that would help and that he'd like. I feel like this helps him clear his head. He designed a backpack for Reader at Chopper's request, so he also puts a few bottles of cola in it in case Reader gets thirsty or Franky needs a little energy to get back into the game. He asks Reader for his opinions on his body modifications, and at least once they joked about how a silly, ridiculous ability would be cool on him, only for Reader to watch with his mouth agape as his nipples actually turned into flashlights.
•—————————•
Robin often leaves books and other things of hers among Reader's so you can come and give them to her and hang out with her for a while. She always gives explanations for every situation or thing; most of the crew look at her with confusion, forgetting that something common or normal for them might not be for Reader. So she explains many things to her so she can become familiar with the world (only what's convenient). She likes spending afternoons with Reader; sitting next to him while they watch the sunset makes her sad and nostalgic, but Reader's company reminds her that that's all in the past and that she'll never be alone again. She tells him stories from her childhood—the good ones, at least—what little she remembers of her mother, how big the bookstore in Ohara was, about her only friend, the giant Saul, and even funny anecdotes about her time in the Baroque era.
"You know, Crocodile, in one of his first attempts to appear as the hero of Alabasta, was bombarded by a group of curious children. He thought it would be a good thing since they were easy to manipulate, but some of the children were too young to properly articulate all the words that came out of his mouth. So when Crocodile told them his identity, they could only pronounce the 'Croco' of his name, and everyone called him that for months. They even thought he had frog powers. From that day on, he stopped trying to use children to be the hero."
•————————•
Brook composes short songs in your favorite musical genres and tries to encourage you to use an instrument (Franky might even design an omnichord for you) to do a duet. He acts like a grandpa; he's the first to tell you to put on a jacket even if it's horribly hot outside. He tries to give you advice about ladies (or gentlemen), even though they always end up being…
“Remember! Don't show insecurity, be confident and ask, 'Could you show me your pretty underwear, ma'am?~'” He does this more for fun than anything else. If you have an afro, he'll be your personal stylist. He knows how difficult it is, but he has a real knack for caring for and cutting his hair—just look at him! And if you give him something handmade, he'll probably put it in his skull and make a silly joke about how he'll always have it in mind.
•—————————•
Usopp measures his muscles against yours (he's a little surprised when he realizes yours are a bit bigger than his, but he figures it's logical since you use a giant hammer and he uses a slingshot). It's no secret that you're not the strongest in the crew, so you might both have sparring matches from time to time to test your strength (you're one of the few he can fight on equal terms with). He tells you anecdotes about his "previous crew" and sometimes about his mother. He might also use you as a target for practice if you miss a sparring match, like putting an apple on your head and staying still until he shoots. He might even make a mistake on purpose to make you nervous until Nami hits him on the head, and vice versa, you could use Usopp to practice on ranged enemies with your hammer. He grabs your arm as soon as he senses you're in trouble; my friend is ready to run and drag you along at the first sign of danger. He constantly improves your hammer after his training sessions to avoid failures and because he likes the reader to feel indebted to him. Usopp also puts many things that no longer fit in his own bag into yours for emergencies. He lets you use his glasses from time to time, either because they aren't needed at the moment or because he feels they are in the way (and he likes seeing you carry his things like Luffy). Whenever Luffy or someone else proposes a crazy and outlandish idea, he always turns to you with a look of disbelief, as if he needs you to agree that it's a bad idea. He tends to include you a lot in his strategies when fighting; he doesn't say "I'm going to fight," but rather "Reader and I are going to fight," because having you close makes him feel a little braver, and two are better than one. Even if you don't have the slightest idea what he's talking about, you're already part of his heroic and grand plan. Now, the two of you are going to risk your lives in battle like great warriors.
•—————————•
Jimbei often speaks his native language around you. He believes it's a good way to teach you about his customs. He helps you learn basic words if needed, but focuses more on your understanding than your actual use of the language. He enjoys engaging in simple, easy conversations that you can respond to and watching the confused faces of others (except Robin) who don't understand what he's talking about. When you go to the sea, he only asks a few whale sharks to keep an eye on you, but since they aren't very discreet, they're more like your travel companions than your spies. He tells you the meanings and stories behind his scars and tattoos; it's very personal to him, especially when he explains the reason for the sun tattoo on his chest. He tells you about koalas and how you remind him a bit of them with your ignorance about the treatment fish-men receive and your curiosity to learn. Jinbe sometimes acts like a bodyguard (like a mother hen chasing her chick 🐣) for you, always by your side when the battle gets too much for everyone, even before Luffy asks. I think Jinbe feels quite comfortable next to Luffy, so they usually sit together for almost everything. As a result, Luffy now smells a bit like Jinbe; they both smell of the sea, but since they've gotten used to the smell (and live in the middle of the ocean), they only notice it when they land and one of the Straw Hats mentions it.
Sorry, the "examples" got too specific 😭
Never apologize, these examples were great, but because they get pretty long I'm going to expand on some of them in my own way, if that works for you.
Zoro definitely takes drinks from you without even asking. It started off as something he did on accident, you'd scold him for it but not much would change, before eventually you starting giving him the first sips of your drinks as some sorta "tax." If Sanji made it, he claims its to make sure it's not poisoned. If it was made by someone else, he claims he's making sure you're getting your money's worth of the booze. It got to a point where Zoro started sharing his own drinks with you, as some sort of peace offering. If he takes yours then you can take his. I like to imagine the stuff he drinks is a lot stronger, while yours is a lot sweeter, so you both complain about it but never stop. It gets to a point where it is a ritual for Zoro, like he couldn't possibly drink anything without knowing you were there to taste it first.
Luffy wants your opinion on every situation. I like to imagine you even slightly suggested that you don't really have a purpose on the crew and so how he includes you with everything. It doesn't matter if it's big or small, he always wants to know what you think, and he takes everything you say super seriously. You have to remind him that he's captain sometimes, and that he has to make his own decisions. In truth though, Luffy never asks for your opinion on things he knows would put you or the crew at risk, and that includes doing things that you might not agree with. There are moments, like when you're left on the ship at Sabaody, where you're reminded that Luffy is the captain and always has last say.
Chopper tries to teach you basic medical skills because he's really afraid you can't take care of yourself in your own world. He only really focuses on all the bad things you tell him, so he's afraid that if you do leave, you'll be all on your own with no one to take care of you. So he spends a lot of time teaching you barebones medical knowledge in case the worst happens. He also feels really bad for what happens on Marineford and so, despite it being years later, he always takes extra time to check up on your scar to make sure it's healed find and that nothing is infected. It's more for his own mental than anything.
Nami teaches you nautical and cartography information, which is something she tends to hold close to herself normally. She doesn't give you classes or anything, but there are moments where she teaches you how to read maps or how to chart stars. Her role as a navigator is very stressful, so she likes spending time with you teaching you small things. She helps you understand how to carefully traverse islands and how to travel safely on the seas.
Sanji lets you cook with him, allowing you to enter his sacred place. He is endlessly patient with you, regardless of your level of cooking skill. He enjoys learning about what foods and dishes you enjoy the most, attempting to incorporate them into future meals. He believes the most intimate act two people can do together is cook, and so he treats every moment with you in his kitchen with grace and care.
Franky teaches you how to modify your weapon. He keeps a lot to himself, but he likes to teach you somethings since you don't get to spend lots of time together. He likes seeing how happy you get when you show him a new addition to your weapon, and he can't help but feel pride knowing that he was the first person you came to express this happiness.
Robin answers every question you have about this world entirely seriously. She answers everyone with differing levels of seriousness depending on her mood. Sometimes she'll straight up tell you the horrors of the Grand Line and World Government, and then will tell you Crocodile once adopted all the kittens in Alabasta. Once you started to realize she was playing with you, you started to do the same with your world. Eventually, it became a game to see who could come up with the crazies lie before the other figured it out. You somehow always lost.
Brook, like you said, is your personal hype man, always encouraging you to be your true self. Strangely enough, it's always easy to confide in Brook because of how old he is. For every strange saying or weird implication, Brook effortlessly relays words of wisdom so profound it doesn't seem like something coming out of the man's mouth. Brook was once human, and so he understands humans emotion more than most. He feels so honored that you feel safe to confide in him, and he always tries to be there when you can. Brook is the first person you go to when scared or confused and you just need to talk, and he's always there to lend an ear (or not).
You and Usopp, much to the other's annoyance, have a lot of inside jokes that no one else understands. Luffy hates it the most, how dare you have fun without him?! A lot of these jokes really just boils down to teasing your crewmates. Someone will walk by, Usopp with look at you and snicker, and everyone else is just seething.
Jinbie always offers to travel with you, even while knowing how strong you are on your own. Jinbie doesn't like how vulnerable you are, taking up the responsibility of making sure you're safe whenever you're traveling to a new island. This often means you're traveling with him and Luffy, which doesn't bother you much. Like you mentioned, Jinbie tends to be a body guard, protecting you both physically and mentally. He sometimes has a tendency to hide the truth of this world from you, afraid it might cause you harm.
