Heyoo! Hope you are doing good! Can i request a fluffy scenario with Chopper please where Y/N is very clingy towards Chopper and the other crew member feel like they play favorites and try to get their affection like a challenge between them too but the reason why they cling to Chopper is that he remembers her of her little brother she lost, who also wanted to be a doctor since Y/N was always sick as a child.
I hope it makes sense! Thank you ✨️
Little Brother’s Dream
chopper x fem!reader (platonic)
tags and warning: blood from small cut, fluff, platonic, found family, soft comfort
a/n: this idea was soooo cuteeee, thank you a lot for this request aw
word count: 2.2k
m.list || ao3 || ko-fi || requests list
The Sunny moves slowly on the sea. The sun is warm, and the waves are soft. Everyone on the crew does something fun. Luffy laughs on the deck, Zoro sleeps under the sun, and Nami reads her maps.
You sit close to Chopper. You always do. When he studies his medical books, you lean on his shoulder. When he mixes herbs, you hold his sleeve. Chopper blushes as always, but he smiles too.
“Y/N, you are very close again.” he says with a shy voice.
“I like being close to you, Chopper.” you answer. Your hand stays on his arm. You feel calm this way, like being near family.
Sanji sees this and frowns “Why only Chopper? Why not me, beautiful?” he asks, holding a plate of sweets.
Usopp joins in “Yeah! I tell you funny stories, but you never hold my arm like that!”
Even Robin looks up from her book and smiles gently “It seems you have a favorite.”
You laugh, but you do not move away from Chopper. The others watch you with a mix of curiosity and challenge. Luffy grins wide, almost too excited “A game! Let’s see who gets Y/N’s hugs today!”
Chopper panics “No! Don’t make it weird!” His face turns red, and he hides behind his hat. But you just smile and stay close, not letting go.
The crew starts to whisper and plan. They think about ways to win your affection. But you keep your secret inside.
Because when you hold Chopper, you remember someone from your past. You remember the boy with soft eyes and small hands, who once said: “I want to be a doctor, so you don’t get sick anymore.”
Your little brother. The one you lost long ago.
And this is why you cannot stop holding Chopper close.
The next day on the Sunny, the crew is busy again, but this time, something feels different. Everyone watches you when you walk by.
Luffy jumps in front of you with a huge grin “Y/N! Hug me! I stretch better than Chopper!” He opens his arms wide.
Sanji spins with a plate of desserts “No, no, no! Hug me first, my sweet angel! I even made chocolate just for you!”
Usopp stands on a barrel and strikes a heroic pose “You should hug the great Captain Usopp, bravest man of the sea!”
Brook laughs “Should I play you some good music?”
Even Zoro opens one eye from his nap “Tch. Idiots.”
You laugh so hard you almost fall over. The deck turns into a little “hug battle”, everyone trying their best to win your attention.
But Chopper does not laugh. His little hooves shake as he hides behind you “Why… why are they all fighting? Did I do something wrong?” His voice trembles, and his eyes shine with worry.
You crouch down and give him a soft smile “No, Chopper. You didn’t do anything wrong. They’re just being silly.”
Still, the noise scares him. He runs and clings to your leg, hiding his face. You gently pat his head, your fingers brushing his soft fur “I’m always here, okay? You don’t need to be afraid.”
Chopper peeks up at you, blushing from the comfort “R-really?”
“Really.” you say, and your voice is calm like the waves.
The crew freezes when they see him holding onto you so tightly. Luffy tilts his head “Eh? Is Chopper… crying?”
“Of course not!” Chopper shouts quickly, though he sniffles at the same time. He clings to you harder, and you stroke his head again.
You smile at the crew “See? This isn’t a game. Chopper needs me right now.”
For a moment, everyone grows quiet. Then Luffy breaks into a smile “Okay! If Chopper needs Y/N, then he wins!”
The others groan and sigh, but they step back. Sanji puts his hand on his chest like a gentleman “Fine, Chopper. But tomorrow, I try again.”
Usopp nods “Yeah! It’s not over yet!”
The “hug battle” is only on pause, but for now, Chopper feels safe in your arms. You stay there with him, warm and gentle, as the Sunny sails on.
The afternoon sun is warm, and the deck is quiet for a little while. You sit at a small table with Robin. She brings out a board game she found in a town, and the two of you start to play. Chopper sits right next to you, his little hoof resting on your arm as he watches the pieces move. Sometimes you even let him roll the dice for you, and he giggles when you cheer for him.
“Good job, Chopper!” you say, giving him a gentle pat on the head. He beams with pride.
Robin smiles softly at the two of you “It seems you have a teammate.”
But peace does not last long.
“Y/N! Look at me!” Usopp shouts from the mast. He is standing on top of it, balancing in a dangerous pose “I can do amazing tricks too! Don’t you want to cheer for me instead?”
Luffy bounces across the deck, arms stretched wide “No, no, hug me! I can stretch around you like a blanket!” He tries to wrap himself around you, but Chopper waves his little hooves in panic.
“Look at my new haircut in your honor Y/N!” Franky says as he changes his hair into a form that reminds of your name.
Brook plays music without even saying anything.
“Don’t distract her! She’s playing a game!” Chopper yells, hugging your arm.
Sanji runs over with a tray full of snacks “My love! I made cookies! They taste much sweeter when you eat them with me!” He puts the tray right in front of the board game, blocking Robin’s view.
Robin only chuckles “It seems your attention is in very high demand today, Y/N.”
Nami sighs and sits next to Robin “Seems like the idiots found a hobby in it.”
Zoro groans from his spot against the wall “All this noise for hugs and games… annoying.” But you notice he still glances your way, waiting, almost as if he wouldn’t mind if you called him over too.
You laugh softly and pat Chopper’s head again, ignoring the “competition”, “I’m busy playing with Chopper and Robin. You guys can wait your turn.”
Chopper beams and puffs out his chest “See? Y/N likes staying with me!” He almost sounds proud, though his cheeks turn red quickly.
The rest of the crew gasp dramatically. Luffy flops onto the ground “What? No fair!”
Usopp points at Chopper “You’re cheating with those cute eyes!”
Sanji falls to his knees “He got all three of the ladies around!”
Robin places her next piece on the board, calm as always “I think the real winner is obvious.”
Chopper hides his face in your sleeve, shy but happy, as the others keep arguing. You only smile, your hand stroking his fur, feeling the peace in this silly storm.
A week passes, and life on the Sunny is always full of chaos. Every day, the crew tries to get your attention. Luffy bounces around you with random hugs, Sanji offers snacks and little meals, Usopp performs “amazing stunts”, and even Zoro occasionally peeks over his shoulder, while Nami gives teasing smiles. Franky flexes and shouts “SUPER HUG TIME!” while Brook plays a silly tune on his violin, singing “Y/N, love me!” in his spooky, cheerful voice.
Through it all, you stay close to Chopper. You play with him, help him read, or simply pat his head while he shyly smiles. Robin sits beside you sometimes, joining in the small games or watching quietly. The crew’s constant bickering feels like background noise compared to the calm you feel beside Chopper.
One afternoon, everyone decides to have a “fun day” on the Sunny. Luffy organizes a small race on deck, Franky sets up a mini obstacle course, Usopp prepares silly targets to throw at, and Brook plays cheerful music. Sanji serves small snacks to keep everyone energized. Zoro yawns but joins anyway, mostly to win.
You sit with Chopper, Robin next to you, laughing as he attempts a tiny race on the deck. You reach for a small snack, but your finger slips on the knife for cutting fruit.
“Ow…” you say, smiling anyway. It’s a tiny cut, just a little scrape on your finger.
Chopper’s ears stand straight up. His eyes widen, and he freezes “Y/N…!” He gasps “Your finger… it bleeds!”
Before anyone can react, he dashes off, little hooves pounding the deck. He comes back with bandages, antiseptic, a small bowl of water, and a worried expression that could melt hearts.
You laugh softly at his panic, but tears prick your eyes. The panic in his face reminds you so much of your little brother, the way he used to worry over every tiny scrape you got when you were sick. Memories rush back: the soft touch of his hands, his shy smile when he tried to “heal” you, the way he always wanted to be a doctor to keep you safe.
Tears spill down your cheeks before you even notice “I… I miss him so much…” you whisper.
Chopper’s panic doubles “No! No! Don’t cry! I didn’t hurt you! I didn’t! I’ll make it better!” He pats your hands gently, trying to stop the tears, his little voice shaking.
The crew stops in their tracks. Luffy freezes mid-jump. Sanji’s tray of food clatters to the floor. Usopp drops his “amazing” slingshot. Zoro slowly sits up, frowning, while the rest all freeze in shock.
Sanji kneels in front of you, offering a small cup of water “Here… drink. You’ll feel better.” He doesn’t stop watching Chopper closely, worried about the tiny doctor’s panic.
Robin gently hands you some tissues “Here, wipe your tears. It’s okay.” Her calm smile is soothing, and it helps you breathe a little.
Chopper keeps looking between your face and the small cut “I… I just want to make it better! Don’t cry, Y/N! I… I…” He stammers, overwhelmed with worry.
You take a deep breath, smile shakily, and pat his head “It’s okay, Chopper. You didn’t hurt me. It’s just a tiny cut.”
He relaxes a little but still clings to your hands “Really?”
“Really.” you whisper. Then, after a pause, you look at everyone, the crew who always fights for your attention, and finally you decide to tell the truth.
“You all… always wonder why I stick to Chopper,” you start, your voice small “It’s not because I… I like him more than anyone else. It’s… he reminds me of someone I lost.”
The crew leans in, eyes wide and worried.
“My little brother,” you continue, tears still running down your cheeks “He… he always wanted to be a doctor. He used to care for me when I was sick, even though he was young and small. He would get so worried, just like Chopper does. And… I lost him. I don’t… I don’t know if I ever said goodbye properly.”
Chopper’s eyes widen, and he wraps his tiny hooves around your hand “Y/N… I… I didn’t know…”
You sniffle and nod “You remind me of him. That’s why I feel safe with you, and… I just can’t help it.”
The crew is silent. Even Luffy, who usually shouts first, just sits still, trying to understand. Sanji quietly steps closer, offering more tissues. Robin’s hand rests lightly on your shoulder, giving comfort. Zoro’s frown softens. Usopp twitches his hand nervously. Franky and Nami are crying. Brook hums a gentle tune to calm the moment.
Chopper blinks, then softly presses his head against your chest “Y/N… you… I… I will always protect you. Always.”
You hug him gently, letting the tears fall freely. The chaos of the crew’s fighting, the silly competitions, the hugs and attention… it all fades. For a moment, there is only the quiet, soft warmth of being with someone who cares for you, just like family.
And the crew, seeing this, smiles quietly, finally understanding why you always stay by Chopper’s side. Even in the middle of all their silly battles, they step back and let you have this moment of comfort.
You look at them with wet eyes and a small smile “I am sorry I do not tell you before. I am sorry I make you fight so much.”
Luffy grins wide and puts his hand on your head “It is okay! We like to fight. But we will stop when it is time. We will protect you like family.”
Chopper buries his face in your sleeve and whispers, “I will stay here. I will learn more and be brave.”
You feel a warm peace. The Sunny rocks softly and the sun starts to go down. The crew stays close. They make soft jokes and gentle smiles. You and Chopper sit together, and for the first time in a long while, you do not feel so alone.
You tell them the last thing you hide “I will never forgive myself for not being there for him. But you help me.”
Robin squeezes your hand “Families grow. You are not alone anymore.”
Sanji wipes your tears with a gentle cloth and makes a small bow “You are safe with us, now.”
Chopper peeks up “We all help each other. Even silly fights are to show we care.”
You laugh through your tears. The sound is small and shining. The crew smiles and the sun goes down, and you feel their hearts near. You rest with Chopper at your side, and the world is quiet for a soft moment.
All Y/N ever wanted to do was sing her songs and be free. Yet somehow, after offering to pay for the meal of a certain boy in a straw hat she finds herself causing havoc through the East Blue.
Masterlist
Trigger warnings: violence, death, one mention of SA, torture, trauma.
Word count: 11K
Disclaimer: The songs I will be using in this fic aren't mine bc I have 0 creativity. I'm sorry.
It began with the sea.
Y/N had always loved it—its wildness, its freedom, the way she belonged to it until it didn't anymore.
Her father.
One moment, they had been laughing beneath the mangroves, her tail brushing his in the soft sway of the tide. He had this deep laugh, the kind that made you feel like the sea itself was smiling, the one that made you feel safe. The next, she was being pulled through the water by her mother's hand, frantic, terrified, forced to hide behind a jagged coral outcropping.
The Marines had come.
She remembered the way the water stilled with their arrival, how everything seemed to hold its breath. Her father stood between them and the rest of their small pod, eyes steady, chest bare, refusing to bow. He hadn’t tried to run. He was proud of what he was.
They called him a monster.
She remembered the rope—coarse and foreign—wrapped around his tail. She remembered the way he screamed as they dragged him to the surface, like an animal in front of the humans above, his tail twisting, his gills flaring in panic.
They made an example of him, they laughed at him. He didn’t scream at first. Just glared, teeth clenched, blood dripping from his brow.
But the rope pulled tighter.
She had watched it all from the surf, a small shape half-submerged, too afraid to move, too frozen to scream.
His voice broke first, his tail followed.
She woke up for months afterward, screaming in the middle of the night, the sound of his body hitting the dock echoing in her skull like thunder. Even now, floating somewhere in unconsciousness, she could still see the way his eyes locked with hers just before the end—like he was sorry he couldn’t protect her.
Then, it had been her mother.
The scent of oil and blood in the water, the metallic tang of harpoons, the click of nets unfurling beneath the waves.
Her mother had been swimming ahead with her and her younger sister, whispering directions, pushing them harder and faster through the reef caves. They had escaped raids before, so they could with this one... but the nets came from all sides, folding in like monstrous wings.
She remembered her mother shoving them forward through a narrow crevice in the rock—one barely wide enough to squeeze through. Her sister slipped through first, small and fast. Y/N started to follow, but before her mother could go with them, the net hit and swallowed her in an instant.
Tangling her limbs, cutting into her skin, Y/N turned in time to see her mother clawing at the ropes, blood blooming into the water like smoke.
Their eyes met.
“You run!” her mother cried, voice sharp with desperation. “Take her and go. Don’t look back!”
But she had looked back and the image never left her, the way the net tightened on her, the way her mother still fought, still hiss, never showing weakness until they pulled her into the pirate ship.
Y/N had heard her scream, and she had never stopped hearing them.
And finally, it was her. Y/N a little older, a little wiser, and twice as afraid.
They’d been running for days, hiding under boats, clinging to driftwood, swimming only at night. Her sister was weak from hunger. Y/N had tried to keep her spirits up, promising they'd make it to the safe island they had heard about—just a little farther, just one more tide, just one more ocean.
But the marines came again, with boats, with lights, with nets, with weapons. They could never outrun them.
But thankfully, Y/N saw them before her sister did.
She looked at the little girl she’d promised to protect, her gills fluttering weakly and she made a decision, she swam away from her sister, toward the open water, fast and visible, making sure they saw her first.
And they did.
The net hit hard, winding around her limbs, crushing her tail. She screamed as it pulled her to the surface, torches blinding her eyes.
She looked back once before disappearing into the boat.
Miri was gone.
Gone somewhere safe at least, do once they killed her, at least she knows her sister made it, but the thing is, she was never meant to die, no, that would've been better.
They hauled her aboard like a trophy.
She never even knew the name of the marine who caught her— all she remembered now was his face, sideburns, and rectangular glasses, but it didn’t matter because he did not keep her long. Just long enough to show her off, to laugh about the “sea witch” he’d dragged in. Then he sold her. No papers, no records, just Berri and silence.
The next man—the real monster—was worse.
The Captain didn’t want money, he didn’t want to brag, he wanted to break her.
He called her his “treasure.” Kept her in a cage. Fed her scraps. Ordered her to entertain him when he was in a good mood. Beat her when she refused. Called her beautiful, precious, unnatural. Sometimes all in the same breath.
He touched her like he owned her, talked about her like she was a pet, and Y/N learned quickly that silence was safer than defiance, that closing her eyes was the only way to hold onto what little dignity she had left.
She stopped counting the months, stopped singing, stopped dreaming.
She stopped believing she was worth saving.
At first, it felt like she was floating.
Weightless.
Suspended in the dark with nothing but the steady pressure of water pressing against her ribs and the dull ache in her limbs.
Y/N stirred, groggy, her mind sluggish and fragmented. Something stung at her wrists. Her arms were above her head, pulled taut. Her tail—a dull throb of muscle and bone—hung limply behind her, the weight of it heavier than it should’ve been. She tried to move, to shift, to swim, but her limbs didn’t obey.
Her eyes fluttered open.
At first, it was just a blur of blue-green, shifting light. Then shapes began to form, steel, glass, movement outside the curve of her vision. Her heart kicked once, hard, and she tried to move.
Chains clinked softly as her body barely shifted.
Her wrists were bound—metal cuffs bolted to the interior wall of a water tube, suspending her arms just above her. Her tail was also restrained near the base, the thick fin looped and fastened to a bar at the bottom of the tank, keeping her suspended and stretched in a loose, languid posture that wasn’t painful. Her breathing picked up, but something tight kept it from going too far.
That’s when she realized there was something clamped over her mouth.
It wasn’t cloth, it was metal, cold and fitted, wrapping across her lower face with sharp ridges etched into it like carved warning signs. The pressure on her jaw made her teeth throb. She tried to scream, to hum—anything—but only bubbles slipped free from her nose.
Her eyes darted now, frantically taking in the curved walls around her. She was inside a massive tube—maybe ten feet tall, five feet across, filled with seawater and glowing faintly with some eerie light. The glass was thick, probably reinforced, and smeared slightly from fingerprints and sea grime.
She struggled, a small, instinctive jerk, but it sent a flash of pain up her arms. The shackles didn’t budge. She kicked once, weakly, her tail brushing the bottom curve of the tank, but it didn’t help.
She was on display and wasn’t alone. through the glass, she saw movement, shadows passing by.
Fish-men.
Their voices echoed outside the glass: laughter, movement, footsteps.
There were fish-men outside. Most paused to glance her way and smirked. Others laughed, muffled by the tank, the sound distorted and cruel. She didn’t hear words, but she didn’t have to, nor did she want to. One even knocked on the glass, amused by the way she flinched.
The light shifted again, heavier this time, deliberate.
Y/N blinked slowly, vision stinging. The murky outline of passing Fish-men gave way to a larger figure, a silhouette too broad to be anyone else. The water around her seemed to chill as he came into view.
Arlong.
He stepped right up to the tank with that lazy, leering swagger, his grin wide and sharp, rows of teeth gleaming beneath dim torchlight. For a moment, he didn’t speak—just stood there, watching her like a man admiring a painting he’d nailed to a wall.
Y/N tried not to react, but her muscles tensed instinctively. The chains groaned softly where her arms strained against them.
Then he placed a hand on the glass.
“You look better this way,” he said at last, his voice distorted through the water but clear enough. “No lies. No illusions. Just what you really are—a pretty little traitor in a tank.”
She glared at him, teeth grinding behind the gag, her gills flaring in instinctual anger.
“You can thank me later,” he continued, casually circling the tank. “Not every day someone gets to see one of your kind up close. Rarer than gold, you know... And just as sellable.”
He stopped behind her, tapping a knuckle against the glass once, twice. The sound echoed inside her skull.
“I already sent word,” he added with cruel cheer. “A couple of collectors in the North Blue have been dying for a specimen like you. Pure blood, real tail, and still got that wild spirit. They’ll pay nicely.”
Y/N thrashed suddenly, tail lashing in the water, rage bubbling up fast and fierce—but the motion only made the chains bite deeper into her wrists. Her cry was swallowed by the gag, nothing but a muffled gurgle of fury.
Arlong laughed, mockingly. She tried to ignore it all, just focus on escaping... but something shifted in the corner of her vision.
She turned her head slightly, as far as the gag’s straps would allow. Just enough to see a figure further back in the chamber. Half-shrouded in shadow, lingering near one of the stone archways, her orange hair catching the light like fire.
No.
Y/N stared through the warped glass, her heartbeat loud in her ears, gills flaring slightly with every panicked breath. The cold bite of metal against her mouth had long since become part of her. She didn’t bother struggling anymore, not with her standing there.
Nami.
At first, she thought it was a trick of the light. Her mind is playing games. But no—she knew those shoulders, that walk, that way her arms wrapped tightly around her ribs like she could hold herself together if she just squeezed hard enough.
It was Nami.
Standing just behind the guards. Out of reach, but not out of place and worst of all—she didn’t look afraid, she looked… resigned.
Arlong’s voice continued to drone, something about buyers and collars and how pretty sirens were when they begged. Y/N barely heard him now. All she could do was watch the girl she had trusted— laughed with her, fought beside her, comforted her—stand silently with them.
But Y/N didn’t rage, she was stunned, maybe a bit betrayed, but not as much as could be, should be, because she understood, she had lived in cages before. She knew what survival tasted like. Knew what it cost.
If Arlong held something over Nami—her home, her life, someone she loved—then what choice did she really have? There were a thousand different cages in this world, and not all of them had bars.
Y/N didn’t blame her, but gods, it still hurt.
It hurt more than the chains, more than the tank, more than Arlong’s laughter. Because even if she understood, she had hoped— truly hoped Nami would be her friend, and now, she hoped, that she wouldn't be the one who wouldn’t look away.
But she did, and that was the worst part.
Time blurred, maybe two days passed, maybe three.
Y/N wasn’t entirely sure anymore. The hours bled into each other like ink in saltwater, soft and indistinct. Her limbs were heavy, her thoughts slower than they used to be.
She could survive underwater. Of course, she could; her body was built for it, but survival wasn’t the same as breathing. This tank had no real current, no fresh flow of water. Just stale, stinking salt and a whisper of air that barely filtered in through the cracks around the top.
She drifted in and out of consciousness, her body occasionally jerking awake in panic as her instincts screamed breathe, breathe, breathe—even as her lungs burned and the tight mask over her mouth allowed only the smallest sips of water-filtered air to pass through.
Sometimes she could hear voices—mocking, muffled through the glass. Other times, it was just footsteps, the occasional tap on the tank’s side from a passing Fish-man, like she was nothing more than a curiosity. A rare, exotic pet.
Once, someone tapped in a rhythm, like they were playing with her, a melody she couldn’t follow.
Her body had stopped resisting; her tail floated limp beneath her, fins trailing in the water like seaweed. The chains held her upright, wrists raw and bruised. Her head lolled slightly against the restraint around her face.
She could only breathe ‘properly’ when they lifted the lid to toss in food—though calling it food was generous. It was mostly scraps. Bits of raw fish or soggy kelp that drifted down toward her like refuse. But with the muzzle strapped around her face, tightly buckled at the back of her head, she couldn’t eat even if she tried.
But it did not matter, all that mattered was the air that entered the tank when they opened the lid. She’d jerk toward the surface in desperation when she saw the shadow of the lid being unbolted, only for the guard to laugh and slam it shut again before she got there.
A game.
They liked to watch her panic.
It was a slow kind of torture—not enough to kill her outright, but enough to diminish her. She could feel herself weakening by the hour. Her muscles ached from being suspended too long, her tail dragging heavier every time it brushed the bottom of the tank.
Sometimes, she would catch her reflection in the glass and barely recognize herself.
Pale skin. Bruised wrists. Red-rimmed eyes. Hair tangled like seaweed.
And sometimes she dreamed of her mother’s arms—warm, strong, always wrapped tight around her after storms. Of soft coral beds where she and her sister used to hide from the world, giggling like the sea couldn’t touch them. She dreamed of lullabies sung in whispers, voices layered in harmony beneath moonlight. Of her father’s laugh echoing across the waves, louder than any tide, full of life, full of light.
She dreamed of her people, their songs under moonlight—of voices rising together in harmony, echoed back by the sea like magic.
And she dreamed of her sister— her sweet little sister, the one she had decided to embark on this trip for, she was older now, safe and smiling out there somewhere, happy, so happy it made this all worthwhile.
In her dreams, she was safe. Whole. Free.
But when she woke, she woke to silence, to water that pressed down like lead. To a muzzle biting into her jaw. To the slow sting of shackles digging into her wrists and tail. The dreams were soft, but the waking was cruel every time.
And now, she wasn’t sure how much longer she could hold on.
Her body ached in ways she hadn’t known were possible. Her chest was tight, her vision often fuzzy. Her tail floated limp behind her like dead weight, the scales dulled and sore. The moments of consciousness were shorter now, harder. There was no rhythm to the days—only an endless stretch of water and pain.
She hoped for death.
Not because she wanted to die, not truly. But because it would be hers. It wouldn’t belong to Arlong. He wouldn’t get the pleasure of seeing her chained and paraded before some slobbering noble. Wouldn’t get the coin for her scales, or the bragging rights for selling off the last living siren he could catch.
If she died here—gagged and silent, but still somewhat herself—then maybe she’d steal something from him after all.
Maybe that was the only freedom she had left.
She tilted her head upward, toward the faint ripple of light above the tank. She couldn’t see the sky, but she liked to pretend it was there.
Her vision had gone soft and unfocused, her limbs numb, her mind drifting somewhere between memory and nothing at all but then, she thought, maybe, she heard something, voices, shouts, the clang of metal on metal.
Fighting?
No, it had to be her mind. Her last desperate flickers of thought clawing for comfort. Maybe this was what dying felt like. Echoes. Phantoms. The old dream of battle, of freedom, just before the dark swallowed her whole.
CRACK.
A sound she felt more than heard. A sharp jolt rocked the tank, and for the first time in what felt like forever, her eyes snapped fully open.
Another hit, then another. Something—someone—was slamming into the glass.
The vibrations rattled her teeth, and a hairline fracture bloomed in the curved panel just to her left, spiderwebbing outward.
“—again!” Someone shouted as another thumb echo.
She flinched instinctively, her body jerking in the water.
And then, without warning, the tank shattered. The wall of glass burst outward with a roaring surge, sending a wave of seawater and shattered fragments cascading into the chamber beyond.
A massive force ripped through the tank as the glass exploded outward, shards spraying like sea foam. Water rushed, bursting from the prison that had held her captive for days.
Y/N’s body was dragged with it, flung forward by the pressure, but she didn’t move far since the shackles yanked her short.
She screamed, or tried to, the sound smothered by the metal still muzzling her mouth. Pain tore through her shoulders as the full weight of the water slammed forward, her body caught like a ragdoll on a line. Her wrists screamed, metal digging deeper into already torn skin.
She was still trapped, but the world around her wasn’t quiet anymore.
There were voices now, shouting, boots slamming against tile, weapons clashing.
She couldn’t breathe.
Not from lack of oxygen now but from the shock. The cold. The pain. The— hands, warm hands.
Someone reaching for her.
Through her haze she saw movement. A blur of blue and black. Steel flashing. Sanji or Zoro, both, maybe, there was blood on the ground, shouting in the halls. A blur of bodies in motion, sweeping through the chaos like a storm.
But none of that compared to the face that suddenly appeared in front of her, breathless, wide-eyed, trembling.
Nami and a key.
Y/N blinked slowly, still disoriented, unsure if this was another hallucination. But when Nami reached down, then up and touched the shackles—gently, like she didn’t want to hurt her—it felt real.
Nami’s lips were moving, but the words she couldn’t hear through the ringing.
“I’m sorry,” she was saying. “I’m so, so sorry.”
The first shackle clanked free. Y/N’s arm dropped, limp, useless. The second followed, and she collapsed forward, caught in Nami’s arms before she could hit the ground.
Y/N dropped forward—half-collapsing, her body too weak to catch itself. Nami caught her as best she could, dragging her forward as the water drained fully away.
Sanji was there a moment later, slipping an arm around her waist to support her, his grip firm but careful, the heat of him a shock against her cold, aching skin. Zoro took point, blade still drawn, eyes sharp and watching for anyone foolish enough to get in their way.
The mask.
Nami’s hands were still trembling as she unclasped the muzzle, the sharp-edged straps slick with water and blood. It clattered to the ground with a dull clang that echoed through the wrecked room.
Y/N’s mouth fell open, and air sharply rushed in.
Y/N’s lungs seized, her body spasming violently as she coughed, breath catching and breaking in her throat. The sound was awful—wet and raw, like her chest had been scraped clean. She doubled over in Sanji’s arms, coughing so hard her vision blurred, water and bile spilling from her lips as her body tried to figure out how to breathe again.
Tears blurred her vision, unbidden and hot, stinging against her cheeks.
“Breathe,” Sanji tightened his grip, trying to hold her upright. “Mon Cherie. Just breathe—you’re alright now.”
She wasn’t, not yet, still—she was free.
They set her down gently. Sanji and Nami eased her onto a dry patch of floor, just beyond the edge of the shattered tank.
She slumped sideways, her body folding in on itself, every muscle trembling from exhaustion. Her tail—still long and heavy and aching— dragged behind her, the delicate shimmer of her scales dulled by blood and grit.
She coughed again, weakly this time, and tried to curl her arms around her middle, to feel something, to hold herself together.
Nami knelt beside her, hovering. She looked pale, her hands stained with rust and seawater and shame. Her lips moved like she wanted to say something—anything—but nothing came out. She looked like she might cry, but didn’t.
Zoro stood nearby, blade still in hand, eyes scanning every shadow, as if a single Fish-man so much as twitched, he’d cut them in half without hesitation. Had Y/N been in better condition, she would’ve been overly glad to see him standing and fighting.
Sanji was crouched at her other side, one hand hovering just over her shoulder, not quite touching but there. Present. Holding space for her.
“She’ll be okay,” Usopp said, though his voice shook as he came skidding into view, nearly slipping on the wet floor. “Right? She’s gonna be okay?”
Sanji looked up, jaw tense. “She needs rest. Air. Time.”
“Which we don’t have right now,” Nami shot back, her voice sharp with urgency. “Luffy’s still in there, fighting Arlong—and that whole building seems to be about to come down.”
It was only then that Y/N noticed the shaking earth beneath her. A low rumble vibrated through the ground like something alive. The sky above was thick with smoke and kicked-up dust, and the sound of shattering stone and splintering beams echoed from the half-destroyed remains of Arlong Park just a few yards away.
They were close enough to feel the fallout.
Chunks of debris rained down from above, crashing into the stone yard like thunderclaps. One of the front pillars cracked straight through, collapsing with a roar and sending a wave of stone dust rolling toward them.
“We need to move,” Zoro said, already stepping forward.
Before anyone could object, he dropped to one knee beside Y/N, then slid his arms beneath her. One strong sweep, and he hoisted her up against his chest like she weighed nothing at all.
“Careful!” Nami snapped, rushing forward with her hand out. “She’s barely breathing—“
“She’s not glass,” he said evenly. “But she’s not walking out of here either.”
Y/N let out a soft sound—barely a breath—as her hands curled weakly in his shirt. Her tail, still heavy with seawater, trailed behind them, glistening in the light.
Behind them, Arlong Park gave a bone-deep groan.
The top floor erupted in a violent plume of dust and splintered stone, a final, furious roar echoing through the air like a dying beast. The entire structure trembled, swayed, and then collapsed in on itself with a thunderous crash. Walls buckled. Towers crumbled. A wave of dust rolled outward, swallowing the ground and sky in a choking fog of ash and smoke.
Y/N’s heart lurched, she felt the dread before she even heard Nami scream.
“Luffy!” Nami’s voice broke open, raw and panicked, cutting through the chaos as she took a step forward, staring into the cloud of ruin.
The silence that followed was deafening.
No movement.
No sound.
No Luffy.
The only thing Y/N could hear was her own breathing—shaky, wet, and rasping in her throat as she struggled to lift her head in Zoro’s arms.
Her voice came out like a cracked whisper, fragile and raw. “Luffy”
The dust settled slowly, revealing the twisted remains of what had once been Arlong Park. Nothing was standing anymore. Just broken wood, collapsed stone, and smoke curling toward the sky.
For a moment, no one moved then something shifted.
A piece of rubble slid. Then another when suddenly—just when it seemed the silence would swallow them all, something moved and from the heart of the broken rubble, through the settling dust and fractured stone, he jumped.
“Nami!” Luffy’s voice rang out like a cannon blast, loud and sure and unmistakably him. “You are our friend, and we are your crew!”
The words echoed, crashing through the silence louder than the explosion had moments before.
For a beat, no one moved.
Then Sanji barked a laugh—short and sharp, like it had been trapped in his chest for too long. Zoro let out a breath and shook his head with a crooked grin, while Usopp cackled.
Nami, stood frozen, staring at him like she’d never seen him before. Like she couldn’t believe anyone could say something like that after what she’d done, after where she’d been. Her lips parted, eyes wide, breath stolen by disbelief and something dangerously close to awe.
And Y/N, she felt it in her chest, that first real, full breath. It filled her lungs like it belonged there. No water, muzzle or fear just air.
Clean, cool, and free.
Luffy’s gaze shifted, past Nami, past the smoke, past the others, to her. Still half-curled in Zoros arms, still weak and trembling.
He walked toward her, slow now, the grin softening into something smaller, quieter.
“I’m glad you’re okay,” he said.
Simple but heavy words.
His eyes flicked to her wrists, the dried blood, the bruises, the raw skin. Then to the dull shimmer of her scales and back to her face.
“I’m sorry,” he said, voice quieter. “I should’ve stopped him. I should’ve—done something.”
“Y-You came b-back,” she rasped, just barely audible. “That’s what m-mattered, h-hotshot.”
He let out a breath, not quite a laugh and not quite a sigh.
“I’m not gonna let anyone take you again,” he added, softer now. “Ever.”
There was no dramatic vow but a quiet, unshakable promise of a boy who meant every word with everything he had.
Y/N’s throat tightened, her lips trembled as she forced one more word from her torn throat. It was barely louder than the breeze—but it carried.
“…Okay.”
She didn’t know how long it took—maybe an hour, maybe longer—but eventually, her body remembered how to change.
Her tail, still slick with sea salt and bruises, shimmered and shifted, the magic unravelling slowly until skin replaced scale, legs curling into themselves like a forgotten memory. It hurt, not in the sharp way, but deep, like a cramp that lived in her bones.
Usopp brought her clothes—soft, clean, and worn in the good way and she put them on, quiet and careful, hands trembling as she buttoned the fabric over her raw, bandaged wrists.
The town’s medic—a kind older woman who didn’t ask too many questions—saw to her next. She didn’t flinch when she saw the bruises, didn’t gasp at the cracked skin or the faint imprint of the muzzle still pressed into her jaw.
She just wrapped her ankles, her wrists. Checked her throat. Gave her water first—real water, cold and clean and air-filled. It tasted like a miracle.
“Drink. Eat. Rest,” the woman said gently, smoothing the blanket over Y/N’s legs. “You’ll feel like yourself again in time.”
Eat and drink, that she could do.
She picked at the food slowly, the broth warm, the bread soft. Her hands shook with every bite, but she managed.
Rest, though… That was harder.
It wasn’t that she wasn’t tired. She was. Every inch of her hurt. Her muscles twitched with fatigue, her eyes felt lined with lead.
But rest meant letting go. It meant closing her eyes and she was scared of what she’d see if she did.
The cage, the muzzle, the net, her father’s face, her mother’s screams.
Still, eventually, her body gave her no choice. Curled beneath too many blankets, her breath warm in the quiet, exhaustion crept in like a tide.
Her eyes slid shut and sleep took her, hours later, she woke with a gasp.
Her body jolted upright, heart slamming against her ribs, sweat clinging to her skin though she felt nothing but cold. So cold.
The room was dark now, the lantern by her bedside burned low. Her throat ached again—dry and raw. Her hands shook as she pressed them into the mattress beneath her, grounding herself in the softness of the fabric, the warmth of the blanket twisted around her legs.
She was not in the tank, nor was she in a cage, nor on a ship.
She was in a small room above a shop, on the second floor of a sun-baked building in Nami’s childhood village—Cocoyasi, if she remembered correctly.
The air was warm, heavy with the scent of sea salt and citrus trees. Crickets chirped softly outside the open window, and somewhere in the distance…
Music, some laughter and cheering. Voices full of joy and disbelief and freedom.
Y/N blinked slowly, piecing it together through the fog still wrapped around her. The Fish-men were gone. Arlong was dead—or close enough. The villagers were free.
They were celebrating.
She sat in bed a moment longer, the echo of her dream still clinging to her skin like a second layer. The warmth of the room did nothing to chase the cold inside her. She rubbed her arms, fingers ghosting over bandages, then pulled the thin covers tighter around herself, despite the summer air.
Her legs still ached, her throat was dry but her feet moved anyway.
She wrapped the blanket around her shoulders like a shawl and stood slowly, legs stiff but solid. A moment passed before she crossed the room, barefoot on warm floorboards, and opened the door to the night.
The music was louder now—fiddles, drums, drunken shouting. The sound of people living. Lanterns lit the square below, casting the streets in golden light. Children darted past with paper ribbons trailing behind them. Villagers laughed, danced, drank.
The whole town was alive, and she just stood there, wrapped in gauze and cotton and silence.
The celebration unfolded in front of her like a dream she hadn’t earned. People danced, laughed, shouted to one another across tables piled with food and drink. There was music in the air, light in their eyes. The kind of freedom that tasted like sugar and salt and sweat and the first deep breath after drowning.
Y/N didn’t move, she simply watched from the edge of it all, the blanket tight around her shoulders like armour.
Then her gaze caught on Nami.
Off to the side, sitting by herself, watching the celebration with a soft, satisfied smile. Not one born from joy—but from relief. From the quiet knowledge that—for once—the fight was over.
Y/N moved, slow and careful, every step a little ache, a little reminder, the soles of her feet were still tender against the earth.
She crossed the square without drawing attention, slipping between the laughter, the dancing, the light, and finally came to sit beside her.
Nami glanced over, and something in her eyes flickered—surprise, then something gentler.
“Hey, pumpkin,” Y/N said, voice low, rough but warmer than before.
Nami huffed a laugh through her nose, eyes shining just a little more than the firelight explained. “You should be resting,”
“Sleep’s been… complicated.” Y/N shrugged beneath the blanket, she sighed as she looked about, “It’s beautiful, though. All this.”
Nami looked out over her village, the people she had fought so long to protect. “Yeah, It is.”
For a while, they said nothing.
The sounds of laughter and music wrapped around them, close but distant—like a different world. One neither of them had ever really belonged to, but maybe, just maybe, could learn to live in.
Nami shifted beside her, arms loosely wrapped around her knees. Her smile faded a little, and her fingers fidgeted in the fabric of her skirt.
“I should’ve—” she started, voice soft.
Y/N didn’t let her finish, she waved a hand gently, still wrapped in gauze. “Don’t.”
“But I—”
“Don’t worry. I’ve been through worse.” A dry laugh caught in her throat, not quite bitter. “And here I am.”
Nami looked at her then. Really looked. Saw the bandages, the shadows under her eyes, the stiffness in her posture, and still, Y/N was upright. Awake, breathing and living.
“You shouldn’t have had to go through worse,” Nami whispered.
Y/N glanced at her, then at the gauze on her upper arm, her lips twitching faintly. “Neither should you.”
The fire crackled somewhere behind them, someone in the crowd let out a cheer, it felt a world away.
They sat in silence again, not heavy this time but still.
The music played on in the distance, laughter echoing like wind through trees. The night air was warm and kind, the stars blinked above them like they had nothing better to do.
“You’re my best friend,” Nami said eventually, her voice barely above a whisper.
Y/N leaned her head back, eyes tracing the constellations above them—patterns she didn’t know the names of, but still felt familiar.
“I know,” she said softly, lips curling just a little. “You’re my best friend, too.”
And they sat like that a while longer, the quiet comfortable now, stitched between stars and sea breeze.
Then something drifted through the air and Y/N’s nose twitched.
A warm, rich smell wrapped around her like a hook—crispy, golden, a little buttery, definitely seasoned. Something fried and definitely Sanji.
Her stomach growled, loud and shameless. She blinked, looked down at herself, then gave a small, guilty smile. “Well, that’s my cue to make the queue.”
Nami snorted, already reaching for her arm. “You need help—”
“I’m fine,” Y/N cut in, lifting a hand with a little wave of fake dignity. “Mostly, and if that’s Sanji’s cooking I smell, I’m not letting a near-death experience keep me from getting a plate.”
Nami gave her a look and Y/N gave her a look back.
With wobbly legs and a blanket still half-wrapped around her shoulders, Y/N made her way toward the long makeshift table, trailing the scent of Sanji’s cooking like a lifeline. The closer she got, the louder her stomach growled—loud enough to earn a few curious glances, not that she cared.
She slipped into the line, right next to the green-haired swordman and grinned, a slow, tired little thing, perhaps a bit hesitant and tilted her head just enough for her voice to carry. “Nice to know you’re not with one foot on the other side.”
Zoro turned slightly, one brow raised, the hint of a smirk tugging at his mouth. “You’re one to talk.”
She chuckled softly. “Yeah, well, at least I was dramatic about it.”
“Can’t argue that,” he said, and there was something in his tone—something quiet and almost warm, like he was glad to see her on her feet, even if he’d never say it outright.
Y/N shifted her weight and swayed a little. Immediately, Zoro’s hand shot out, steadying her elbow without a word, she blinked at him and he didn’t let go.
“Easy,” he muttered, almost annoyed but not really. “You still look like a strong breeze could knock you over.”
“You offering to catch me?” she teased, breathless but grinning.
Zoro shrugged. “If I have to.”
Y/N smiled—not her old one, not yet—but something close.
"But how are you, really?" Y/N asked, voice low as she glanced toward the side of his chest, where the fabric of his shirt hung just a little loose, hinting at the bandages hidden underneath.
Zoro met her eyes again, unreadable for a beat. “I’m alive.”
She smiled faintly. “That’s not an answer.”
He smirked, but it faded quickly when he saw the way she was still watching him.
“It hurts,” he admitted after a beat, quiet and plain. “Breathing’s annoying. Moving’s worse but it’s healing.”
She nodded, satisfied, but only slightly.
“Don’t push it more than you already have,” she said, trying to sound casual, though her voice trembled just enough to betray her. “You almost didn’t come back.”
"I could tell you the same,"
“You’re prettier, though,” Y/N smirked faintly, reaching up to gently bop his cheek with two fingers. “Would’ve been a real shame to lose that face.”
He scoffed, but didn’t pull away. If anything, his jaw eased a little under her touch, reluctantly flattered but then his voice dropped, quiet enough that it cut through the buzz of celebration like a blade.
“You’re still hurting.”
The words weren’t an accusation but a statement. A truth he’d read in the way her hands curled under the blanket, in the stiffness of her shoulders, in the way she hadn’t once looked at herself in a reflection since they arrived.
She didn’t meet his eyes and just looked ahead at the line of people gathered near the food table, their faces lit by the soft golden glow of lanterns.
“Nothing I can’t handle, hotshot,” she said, the smirk still there, but thinner. Worn.
He watched her in silence, and for once, didn’t push.
But his hand shifted slightly at his side, like he was fighting the urge to reach out and do something, anything, and not sure what wouldn’t make it worse. “Doesn’t mean it isn't bad.”
There it was again, that unexpected softness from him. That steadiness she was used to seeing in battle, but rarely in his voice. Y/N took a step back, distancing herself from his gaze, sharper than most people give him credit for.
Before Y/N could say anything else, the scent of garlic, herbs, and butter cut through the air like an invitation, and then came his voice.
“Ooh. Back for seconds?” Sanji drawled from behind a steaming wok, one hand expertly flipping a ladle of creamy risotto into a dish without missing a beat. His eyes sparkled with teasing heat as he glanced up. “Must’ve liked it.”
Zoro didn’t flinch, he just stepped forward and handed over his empty plate with a shrug. “Yeah. It was okay.”
"That plate says different." Sanji grins teasingly and takes the plate.
"Gotta keep my strength up, even with your cooking," Zoro said as Sanji dished risotto onto his plate. “It’s the least you can do, considering I saved your ass from those fishmen.”
Sanji’s scoff was immediate. “What? I saved your arse.”
Zoro shrugged like it was barely worth debating. “You didn’t even get your hands dirty.”
“At least I don’t need three swords to prove I’m a man,” Sanji said, handing the plate back with flair.
Right then, Y/N stepped up beside them, blanket draped over her shoulders like a cape, cheeks still a bit pale, but her eyes glinting with tired mischief. Her smirk was crooked—almost full strength.
“You two flirting,” she rasped, her voice low and hoarse, “or should I come back later?”
Sanji turned to her instantly, his face changing.
“Y/N, Mon Cherie, Mon étoile, my darling,” he gushed, suddenly starry-eyed, already fetching a fresh plate like it was the most urgent task in the world. “You shouldn’t be on your feet—what can I get you? Risotto? Bread? Something sweet? I made a citrus glaze for the pudding just for balance.”
Y/N rested a hand on the edge of the serving table, steadying herself. Her smirk stayed, but it softened around the edges. “Surprise me, chef.”
“Gladly,” he said, presenting the dish like it was a crown jewel, eyes softening just a bit beneath the usual flair. “You deserve nothing but the finest this humble cook can offer.”
Y/N took the plate with both hands, letting the heat from the porcelain seep into her fingers like a quiet promise of comfort and for a moment, she just stood there, breathing it in.
“Smells heavenly,” she murmured, voice still a little hoarse but gentler now. “No doubt it’ll taste the same.”
Sanji practically beamed, hands clasped over his chest like she’d just recited poetry in his honour. “You wound me, Mon Cherie. You should doubt it—it’ll taste better.”
Y/N gave him a faint, amused look. “Careful, chef. Flattery’s a dangerous spice.”
“Only when it’s not deserved,” he said, wink and all.
Behind them, Zoro made a dramatic show of clearing his throat, still chewing his second helping. “Are you two done? Some of us are trying to eat without choking on sugar.”
Sanji shot him a glare. “You know what doesn’t go with risotto? Your attitude.”
Y/N rolled her eyes fondly and nudged Zoro with her elbow, the gesture soft but insistent.
“All right, come on,” she said, nodding toward the fire.
They made their way over together, slow but steady, coming to a stop beside Luffy, who was already grinning widely. Usopp stood tall—well, tall for Usopp—with a crowd of villagers gathered around him, utterly enraptured.
"There I was," Usopp declared, chest puffed out, "completely alone, surrounded by fishmen—dozens of them! The Great Captain Usopp, staring death in the face!"
A few villagers gasped on cue. Usopp soaked it up.
"But I knew I couldn’t give up the fight—not with the fate of Cocoyasi Village hanging in the balance!" He took a dramatic step forward. "So I pulled my trusty slingshot—" He mimicked the motion with flair, holding an invisible weapon aloft. "—and I fired on ’em till my fingers bled!"
He made a loud pew! noise, followed by a full-body BOOM! explosion sound and flailed backwards like he’d been hit by the memory.
Sanji sauntered up behind them with his own plate in hand, and Nami, ever the picture of cool amusement, followed a moment later, folding her arms as she took her place at Y/N’s other side.
"I didn’t stop until I had single-handedly defeated Arlong and his deadly crew!"
He paused, letting the gasps and wide eyes wash over him, then his gaze landed on the small group of his crewmates near the fire.
“…With a little help, of course,” he added quickly. “I mean, I guess I wasn’t completely alone.”
Y/N chuckled, taking a bite of risotto and shaking her head. “Modest as ever.”
Sanji snorted beside her, and Luffy suddenly jumped to his feet, arms stretched high.
“Three cheers for Captain Usopp!” he whooped. “We couldn’t have done it without him!”
The villagers cheered, Usopp beamed like he’d been crowned king, and Y/N laughed again, softer this time, but fuller.
Her shoulders began to relax, she felt at peace for once, with food in her hands, fire that danced between and her crew. It was nice... util--
“Marines! Form lines!”
The voice cut sharp across the square, the music faltered, the laughter stuttered to a halt.
Y/N froze, her eyes narrowing as the cheers gave way to the clatter of boots and the metallic rasp of rifles being shouldered.
She turned her head slowly, rising just enough to see the unmistakable wave of white uniforms approaching from the far edge of the village—shiny coats, stiff hats, smug faces. Like they’d waited specifically for the moment things felt safe again.
Y/N sighed and closed her eyes, lifting her face to the night sky as if asking the stars for patience.
“Can’t we get a fucking break?”
She opened her eyes, and froze, because there, at the center of the formation, tall and solid as a warship carved from stone, stood an older man.
His coat was long, his presence impossible to ignore, and even from a distance, there was no mistaking the weight he carried, it was sn admiral.
But not any admiral, Luffy’s grandfather.
“So these are the Straw Hat Pirates,” the man said, arms folded, eyes scanning over them like they were an interesting stain. He gave a small huff of amusement. “Huh.”
Then, with a flick of his wrist: “Marines, arrest them.”
Before anyone could so much as reach for a weapon, a voice broke the air.
“Sir!”
Koby.
The soft-spoken boy Y/N had met weeks ago back in Shells Town stepped forward from the ranks, practically swallowed by the line of taller soldiers.
“The Straw Hats didn’t destroy Cocoyasi Village,” he said, squaring his shoulders. “It was Arlong.”
Luffy’s grandfather didn’t even look at him at first.
“You have your orders, cadet,” he said flatly.
Koby hesitated, visibly trembling, but then, to Y/N’s shock, he stepped forward again. “No, sir.”
Heads turned and the tension cracked.
The admiral’s head tilted slowly. “What did you say?”
“I said no, sir,” Koby repeated, awkwardly tall, like his courage barely fit inside his body.
“You do realize,” the admiral said, voice edged with warning, “there are severe punishments for disobeying direct orders.”
Koby looked unsure but still said, “I disagree with those orders, sir.”
Y/N blinked, honestly stunned. Well, he grew a backbone, it seems.
“Me too.”
A second voice, he stepped forward, stiff and awkward as ever—but unmistakable, Helmeppo.
Y/N almost laughed but not out of mockery, out of pure disbelief. Of all people, he had come a long way.
The admiral turned slowly, surveying the pair of them—two young cadets standing against a sea of uniforms and a man who could destroy them both without blinking.
He scoffed, the sound halfway between irritation and amusement, then, to the rest of the Marines.
“Anyone else like to follow their lead?” He glares at Koby. “Or do you all want to follow orders instead?”
A group of Marines stepped forward.
Boots pounded the stone as they formed a sharp line between the crowd and the Straw Hats. Rifles raised in unison, black barrels gleaming beneath the firelight. Fingers hovered over triggers, the villagers fell silent, backing away.
And above it all, Garp’s voice rang out like a cannon blast. “Any of them moves—make sure it’s their last.”
Y/N’s stomach twisted.
Her hand curled around the edge of her plate, knuckles whitening. The warmth from the food had long since faded, and suddenly the air didn’t feel so kind anymore.
Garp moved slowly, but deliberately, every step echoing louder than the last as he approached Luffy. His gaze locked on him—sharp, stern, unflinching.
“Come here, boy,” he said, voice quieter now, but heavy. “I gave you every opportunity to follow my path. To become a respected Marine. To serve justice. But instead, you chose to become a pirate.”
Luffy didn’t flinch, didn’t step back. He just grinned—that same wild, unshakable grin that had carried him through sea creatures and warlords and the weight of an entire world.
“No, Grandpa,” he said simply. “I’ve always been a pirate.”
The words landed like a spark on dry grass. Garp’s jaw tightened.
“No more running,” he said. “Last chance. Give it up. Walk away from this.”
Luffy’s smile didn’t fade. If anything, it widened. “That’s not really my thing.”
Y/N’s heart kicked in her chest, the air shifted as Garp reached up and unclasped the heavy cloak from his shoulders, letting it fall behind him like a curtain dropping before a fight.
“Then show me what you’ve got.”
Luffy lunged first, fists clenched, body twisting with raw momentum, but Garp barely moved.
With the ease of someone who'd done this a thousand times, the old Marine side-stepped, then drove his fist hard into Luffy’s gut.
CRACK.
The impact echoed like a cannon blast, and Luffy flew backward, slamming into the dirt, the air driven clean from his lungs.
"This is what you wanted, right?" Garp asked as he stepped forward, each footfall a rumble. “To be a pirate. Well, I’ll show you what Marines do to pirates.”
Luffy groaned, pushing up on his elbows, eyes narrowed. “I don’t want to fight you, Grandpa.”
“You’ve been fighting me your entire life.”
Garp struck down again, but Luffy rolled to the side just in time, dirt spraying beneath him. He scrambled up, shaking it off, and launched another punch, then another—fast, furious.
But Garp dodged each one like he was swatting away the wind. “When are you gonna learn you can’t win?”
BAM.
A single blow to the chest.
Luffy flew backward, straight through the wall of a small house, wood splintering and stone cracking on impact.
“Luffy!” Y/N choked, the sound tearing out of her as she stepped forward before she could stop herself.
Usopp watches with concern. Sanji moved slightly, tense beside her. Zoro’s hand hovered over his swords. Nami didn’t blink.
From the dust and debris, Luffy rose slowly and placed the straw hat gently back on his head. His chest rose and fell in ragged gasps, but his eyes burned with something fierce and clear.
Garp shook his head, a mocking scoff in his voice. “I thought I trained you better than this.”
“You did,” he rasped.
Without hesitation, Luffy stretches and grabbed two pieces of wood for impulse. “Gum-Gum..."
"Rocket!” His arms stretched far, snapped back tight, and he launched himself through the air toward Garp.
But Garp was waiting; his fist met Luffy mid-flight, sending him spiraling backward with bone-rattling force.
Y/N flinched hard, a sharp breath catching in her throat but she couldn’t tear her eyes away.
“You don’t know how dangerous the world is,” Garp said as he moved toward Luffy, the dust from the last blow still settling in the air. Luffy struggled, limbs shaking beneath him as he tried to rise again.
“The Grand Line isn’t some child’s game.”
With a sharp, practised movement, Garp reached down and hauled him up by the front of his vest—like he weighed nothing, like he wasn’t bloodied and bruised, barely able to stand.
Luffy coughed, face twisted in pain, but his voice came out steady--thin, but steady.
“You can hit me all day long…” he said through grit teeth, “…but I’m never giving up on my dream.”
Garp’s grip didn’t loosen. “Is that so?”
Luffy looked him dead in the eye, no fear, just fire. “I’m going to the Grand Line. I’ll find the One Piece. And I will be…” he paused only long enough to take a shaking breath, “King of the Pirates.”
Luffy, then, began to laugh. A short, ragged sound that caught in his throat at first, then spilt into the open air.
Garp then let go of Luffy.
The boy dropped to the dirt with a grunt, and Garp stepped back, arms loose at his sides, still shaking his head and to everyone’s shock… he laughed too.
A deep, rolling laugh that cracked through the tension like lightning.
Y/N blinked, frowning, eyes darting from Luffy to the man towering over him. Her heart still pounded in her chest, unsure if this was a reprieve or the start of something worse.
“Have it your way,” Garp finally said, the fight gone from his voice.
To Y/N’s immense relief, he added, loud and clear, “Lower your weapons!”
The Marines—startled but obedient—reluctantly lowered their rifles.
Garp turned on his heel, addressing the small armada now waiting behind him. “What are you all standing around for? Arlong’s pirates are still on the loose. Hunt them down. Arrest them. Now.”
Without hesitation, the Marines snapped to action. Orders barked. Feet pounded. They scattered like a tide breaking on rocks, surging toward the jungle and the sea.
But of course, not all of them were so quick to move on.
“What about these Straw Hats?” came a sharp voice.
A tall Marine—whiskered and sharp-eared, with far too much smugness for someone that resembled a house cat—stepped forward, blocking Garp’s path.
"What about them?"
“Arrest them too!” he snapped. “They’re the real crimin—"
THWACK!
Nami’s staff came down hard and fast on the back of his head. The Marine hit the ground like a sack of flour, unconscious before he landed.
Y/N let out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding. Gods. Maybe they really were going to survive this.
Garp didn’t even flinch. He turned back to Luffy, gaze steady, unreadable.
“I knew I’d never be able to change your mind,” he said, voice quieter now. “You’re stubborn. Just like me. But I had to make sure you knew who you are, boy.”
Luffy blinked, bruised and battered.
“You were testing me?” he asked, half-whining. “Couldn’t you have gone a little easier?”
Garp scoffed. “Where’s the fun in that?”
Then, with surprising gentleness, he stepped forward and placed both hands on Luffy’s shoulders. “You’re on your own now.”
The words settled heavily in the air but as Garp turned to leave, Luffy’s voice rose again, loud and clear, “No. I’m not.”
Garp paused mid-step, turning to face him. Luffy grinned wider, standing tall despite the bruises and dirt, his eyes sweeping over the crew—Zoro, Nami, Usopp, Sanji and Y/N. “I have my friends.”
Y/N’s lips curved softly, and for the first time that day, her smile reached her eyes.
Garp didn’t speak as he turned to leave, but she caught it—the faintest hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. Barely there but still there.
She tilted her head, watching him go, then called out casually, loud enough for the whole square to hear. “Well. That was the most violent grandfather-grandson bonding session I’ve ever witnessed.”
About a few days later, after final preparations for their next voyage had been made, which had a couple of surprises for Nami and Luffy, Y/N leaned casually against the kitchen island, her guitar resting comfortably in her hands. The afternoon light poured in golden across the floor, catching the gleam of clean wood and salt-polished boots.
Nami, Zoro, Usopp, and Sanji were gathered nearby—sharing the moment, waiting for Luffy, enjoying one of the last stretches of stillness before the sea called again.
“So… you’re a siren?” Usopp asked, cautious but unable to help himself. “Didn’t think there were any left—y'know, after that World Government started that whole hunt-them-into-extinction campaign.”
Everyone except Y/N immediately turned to glare at him. The collective look said Really, Usopp?—a nonverbal slap upside the head. But true to form, he just blinked and held up his hands.
“Hey, I’m just saying what’s already out there!” Usopp defended himself. “Everyone’s heard the stories. The bounties. The purges. I figured sirens were long gone.”
Y/N laughed softly, plucking a lazy chord as she adjusted a tuning peg.
“It’s alright,” she said, voice calm, musical in its own right. “For all anyone knows, we are extinct, just a few of us left, and most don’t come out to the light of day. So let’s keep that under wraps, yeah?”
Usopp nodded quickly. “Yeah—yeah, of course. Totally top secret. Like, buried treasure level.”
" Good," Y/N grinned and plucked a few easy strings, then let her voice carry through the room with a rhythm that matched the roll of the waves outside.
I carry a dream, soft and small,
It helps me rise when I might fall.
If I believe in stories bright,
I’ll chase the dawn beyond the night.
I trust in hope, in stars that gleam,
And when it’s time—
I’ll chase that dream—
"Guys," Luffy came bounding into the galley, holding something clutched tight in one hand, grinning like he’d just found treasure.
“Check it out!” he said, practically bouncing as he slammed a rolled-up paper down onto the table in front of Y/N.
She blinked, then leaned over as he unrolled it with a flourish.
It was a wanted poster, a freshly printed one.
Luffy’s face beamed from the center of it, captured mid-wave with that silly, toothy grin and wide, unbothered eyes.
“Thirty million berri!?” Y/N gaped in horror, her mouth falling open as she stared at the number printed beneath the smiling face of Monkey D. Luffy. “Is that real?”
"Of course it is," Luffy grins proudly.
Before anyone could answer, Usopp let out a triumphant sound. “Hey, look! I’m famous!”
Sanji frowned, leaning over his shoulder. “What are you on about? That’s Luffy’s wanted poster.”
“Not just Luffy,” Usopp said, jabbing a finger at the bottom corner of the paper where—sure enough—the back of his head was just barely visible.
He mock-laughed and puffed his chest out proudly. “Sorry, guys. Maybe if you work a little harder, you’ll get a bounty too.”
“That doesn’t count,” Sanji muttered flatly.
Usopp shrugged, full of smug satisfaction. “It’s okay to be jealous. Feel what you need to feel.”
Y/N would’ve laughed—honestly, she wanted to—but her eyes were still locked on the number. Thirty million. Not just a bounty—a statement. The government had noticed them now, and they didn’t send posters unless they wanted people to start hunting.
“I… mmm…” Sanji sighed, waving a hand and shaking his head. “This is stupid.”
Zoro, ever the realist, crossed his arms. “This is gonna make things harder. With that price on your head, every bounty hunter in the East Blue will be gunning for you."
“Not just Luffy,” Nami added grimly. “They’re gonna be gunning for all of us.”
“Ah, shit.” Y/N groaned, dragging a hand down her face.
She turned toward the window, staring out at the sea. It shimmered, calm and bright, but now, it didn’t look peaceful to her. Her fingers twitched as if searching for her guitar, something steady.
Because this? This changed everything.
“Then it’s a good thing we’re not staying in the East Blue,” came Luffy’s voice behind her, all sunshine and certainty.
Before she could turn, his arm wrapped casually over her shoulders, tugging her back toward the table like it was the easiest thing in the world. Like she wasn’t unraveling, just a little.
He grinned—that grin, wide and weightless. “We’re going to the Grand Line.”
Like it was the easiest thing in the world, like there was nothing to be afraid of.
Right. Right. The Grand Line.
That’s why she came with him in the first place. Not just for music or mischief but for Miri.
Later, once they were sailing steady across open sea, the island behind them and the horizon stretching wide and wild ahead, Y/N made her way to the helm.
Nami stood there, arms loosely crossed, wind in her hair, eyes fixed on the compass and the charts, always calculating, always guiding.
Y/N came up beside her and gave her a light nudge with her elbow.
“Hey,” she said, that familiar spark in her voice. “Come on. We’ve got a surprise for you, Pumpkin.”
Nami raised an eyebrow, suspicious but curious. “A surprise?”
Y/N nodded, stepping closer. She reached out, her hand warm on Nami’s shoulder as she gently started steering her toward the far edge of the ship. “Yup. Come on, it’s worth it.”
Nami let herself be guided, casting a sideways look. “If this is a prank, I’m throwing you overboard.”
“Pfft,” Y/N grinned. “Please, if it was a prank I’d have made Usopp do the setup.”
She paused, smirk softening into something thoughtful. “Also... I really think I should change that nickname.”
“Well,” Y/N said, steering her gently toward the other side of the deck, “seeing as you come from a citrus island, I think Pumpkin is the wrong fruit to call you.”
Nami snorted. “Wow. The thought you put into this is astounding.”
“I take my nicknames very seriously,” Y/N replied with a straight face. “Which is why I’m proposing… Tangerine Queen.”
Nami gave her a side-eye. “Pass.”
“Okay, okay. What about… Zesty Babe? Or—wait—Orange Lightning!”
“Absolutely not.”
Y/N grinned wider. “You’re no fun.”
“I’m just sane,” Nami muttered.
“Fine, fine,” Y/N said, pretending to ponder as she tapped her chin. “Citrus babe? Sunkiss Sass? Marmalade Monarch? I can go all day.”
“You better not,” Nami warned, though a reluctant smile tugged at her lips.
“Alright, alright,” Y/N relented, holding up her hands. “Pumpkin stays for now, but for the record, you’ll always be my favourite fruit."
Nami rolled her eyes. “Just get to the surprise before I--"
She stopped for below them, nestled in carefully rigged wooden planters near the stern, were tangerine trees.
Small, sturdy, sun-kissed—hers.
The very same trees she’d grown back on Cocoyasi, now swaying gently with the rhythm of the ship, their leaves bright against the deep blue sea.
Sanji leaning agasint the wall.
Zoro stood leaning against the railing, arms crossed, pretending like he wasn’t watching her reaction.
Luffy stood proudly between them all, hands on his hips, grinning like he’d grown the trees himself.
“So what do you think?” he asked, beaming. “It’s a little piece of home to take with you on our journey.”
“And I can whip up tangerine tarts anytime you want,” Sanji added smoothly.
Nami didn’t answer right away.
She stepped forward slowly, her boots soft against the deck. The breeze played with her hair as she crouched beside one of the crates. Her fingers reached out, gentle, brushing over a cluster of leaves like she couldn’t quite believe they were real.
“It’s perfect,” she said at last, voice low but steady.
No tears, but that soft, stunned kind of joy that comes when someone remembers the part of you you didn’t ask them to.
Luffy gave a little bounce in place, like he wanted to say more but was holding it in, for now. Y/N leaned against the railing beside her, arms crossed but eyes soft.
“Well,” she said, “I did consider tying a bow around them, but you know... subtlety.”
Nami snorted and shook her head, the smile lingering as she turned away from the trees.
Then her eyes flicked to Luffy, and after a quiet look shared with Sanji, Zoro and Y/N, her smile grew just a bit wider.
“Actually…” she said, stepping toward him, “we’ve got something for you, too.”
Luffy blinked. “Huh?”
“Come on, stud” Y/N grinned, already moving up toward the main deck. “Trust us.”
He followed without question, of course, because Luffy never needed much reason when it came to following his crew.
As they reached the centre of the ship, Y/N cupped her hands around her mouth. “Champ, set the main!”
“Setting the main!” Usopp called back, dashing over to the rigging.
With a few practiced tugs and a whistle of rope through pulleys, the sail unfurled. The canvas above began to unfurl with a soft fluttering thump, snapping to life as the breeze caught it and there it was.
The new Jolly Roger.
Painted bold and proud across the sail—Luffy’s straw hat perched atop the crossbones, grinning wide like it could face down the whole world and win.
Luffy's jaw dropped comically wide, a huge, unmistakable grin stretched across his face as he stared at the fresh white canvas—clean, bold, and newly painted.
He stood there, stunned, like he couldn’t quite process it. Then, true to form, he bolted across the deck and then he let out a yell of pure joy, arms flailing in the air.
Y/N looked up at the flag as it flapped in the breeze, sunlight catching the edges of the paint, and let herself smile too.
The day had stretched long and easy after that—sun-drenched and salt-sweet, the kind of day that felt like a breath after the storm.
The crew had scattered across the ship, each falling into their own rhythm. The tangerine trees swayed softly in the breeze. Nami charted their course with half a smile. Usopp was back to tinkering with something he swore wasn’t going to explode this time. Sanji was probably humming while cooking. Zoro napping, swords within reach, of course.
Y/N was perched on the back stairs, guitar balanced on her knee, thumb drifting lazily along the strings in a steady, easy rhythm, the kind of sound the ocean liked to listen to.
“Straw Hats!” came Luffy’s voice, high and bright and full of that something that always pulled them in. “All hands on deck for a cast-off ceremony!”
Y/N blinked and paused mid-strum, eyebrows lifting. She let the chords hum out beneath her fingers, one last soft echo as she stood.
A cast-off ceremony?
Y/N blinked, curiosity piqued. She gently set her guitar down beside the stairs, giving it one last affectionate tap before pushing herself to her feet.
By the time she made it to the main deck, the others had already gathered. They stood in a loose semicircle around something in the center—a barrel.
Y/N furrowed her brow, confused for a second, until Sanji stepped forward, one hand in his pocket.
“I’m gonna find the All Blue,” he said simply, and with that, he placed his foot on the barrel.
Y/N’s eyes flicked to the others.
Ah… I see.
Luffy was next—of course he was. Practically bouncing in place, he slammed his foot onto the wood with all the excitement in the world.
“I’m gonna be King of the Pirates!”
Zoro followed, calm and certain. “I’m gonna be the world’s greatest swordsman.”
Nami, with a grin that could split storms, put her foot up “I’m gonna draw a map of the world.”
They all turned toward Y/N, expectant and warm. She stared for a beat too long. Her mouth opened, then closed again.
Because of her dream, the real one? It wasn’t one she was ready to say aloud. Not yet, not when it meant saying her sister’s name, not when it meant remembering what she’d left behind.
So instead, she smiled, soft, bright, with just a hint of mischief.
“I’m gonna sing in every corner of the Great Blue,” she said, planting her foot firmly on the barrel with a satisfying thud.
That left only Usopp. He hesitated, eyes flicking between them all, nerves tugging at his mouth like he wasn’t sure if he belonged. "I..."
But then—after a breath—he stepped forward and placed his foot on the barrel too.
“I’m gonna become a brave warrior of the sea!” he declared, voice wobbling at first but steady by the end.
A beat of silence followed—then they all broke into laughter, grins spreading like wildfire. It wasn’t mocking. It was something else, somethinf warm and solid.
A moment filled with pride, maybe or the kind of giddy courage that only comes when you’re standing right at the edge of everything.
Then, like a match to kindling, someone snorted and just like that, they all started laughing, chuckling, grinning, elbowing each other like kids daring fate to try them.
“This is it, crew," Luffy said, his voice steady with that unwavering spark only he seemed to have. He looked at each of them—Nami, Zoro, Usopp, Sanji and Y/N “The Grand Line.”
He grinned wide and lifted his arm high, fist clenched toward the sky. “Nothing’s gonna stand in our way! Yeahhhh!”
Usopp, Y/N, and Sanji whooped into the air alongside Luffy, their voices loud and unfiltered, carried off by the wind. Zoro just smirked, while Nami gave a small, crooked grin, cooler than the rest, but no less proud.
They were really doing it. The Grand Line. The start of something big, wild, and probably insane.
Y/N glanced around at the circle, her fingers brushing the edge of her guitar, the warmth of laughter still clinging to the air. This—this loud, ridiculous, mismatched crew— was starting to feel like home, like something worth holding on to.
And deep down, beneath the excitement and bravado, she found herself hoping—really hoping—that whatever came next, she wouldn’t lose this.
Y/N:
OMGGG WE ARE DONE WITH SEASON 1!!!! Thank you all SO SO SO SO much for reading. I'm sorry it took me so damn long to post this, I just started working and I have little time for literally anything, but at least I enjoy what I do, so I'm happy with it.
I'm debating to write a filler chapter?? Maybe some romance between Y/N and a crew member? Maybe a few headcannons of Y/N idk what do y'all think?
Once again, thank you all so so much for reading, like seriously, thank you for the support. <3<3<3<3<3<3
Warnings; fem reader!, everyone crushing on reader if you squint, everyone loves themselves amazon reader, added robin brook franky and jimbei becuase why not even though i haven’t watched that far so if i get something wrong pls tell me, reader can do a lot of stuff
A/N: none!
masterlist. part 2
— luffy would actually love you without a single fucking doubt he was practically jumping up and down asking you to join his crew if you said no he would kidnap you but who could say no to him and his cute face
— luffy uses you as a climbing tool he wants to see something up high and can’t see his going to you asking for uppies and you gladly give them to him
— zoro didn’t want to admit but he liked you on the crew becuase your strong he wants to challenge you and he admires your strength but he’s lowkey scared of you if your taller than him
— let this man see your sword he will literally not want to let it go and he’ll be so honored that you let him even hold it if you let him use it in battle if he lost one of his he’ll be so fucking happy and blushy
— sanji swoons over every women ( and man) but a muscular tall woman that’s race is literally goddess warriors this man is on the floor for you at your every beck and call
— he gets carried by you a lot he tries to carry you but you just carry him and he gets all blushy
— nami thinks that’s your so fucking cool she would 100% want to sun bathe with you all the time
— she also wants to hear about how the stories that your people have made over the years
— ussop is shaking the first time he meets you
— when there’s a fight he hides behind you and says that your under his control when you go along with it makes him very happy that’s why your his favorite
— chopper thinks it’s so cool that your on the crew when you tell him about the animals that your mother told you when you where growing up it makes him feel less like a monster and he does his cute little dance thing
— if you ever in battle and seriously injured and don’t go to him because your stubborn best believe he’s shape shifting and throwing you over his shoulder so you can get treated correctly (you could overpower him but you’ll let him win this one)
— robin has definitely heard of amazons but never seen one before in real life
— you guys will have little reading dates and she loves when you give her books from your home because there so interesting and fascinating
— Franky thinks your SUPERRRR all the time you never understood his obsession with cola but when he had you drink some you were hooked
— he makes you gadgets all the time whether to improve your sword or shield he is always making stuff for you
— when brook saw you he wanted your panties but was kinda scared when you drew your sword at him then he remembered he was dead but it was still kind scary
— jimbei had definitely heard of amazons before but like robin had never seen one
— he’s like a really cool person to be around if you wanna learn about his people culture you would always go to his with no hesitation and he would gladly tell you
— the crew admires you a lot your like there personal bodyguard they love you
— the girls will always make sure that when you guys go shopping you all get matching stuff because why not
— i feel like luffy goes to you for everything he has a cut on his hand he’s going to you instead of chopper it just shows how much he trust you
— when you first join the crew and your kinda timid to the boys they understand because your people say that men are just nasty but they get kind sad because they wanna know you better but over time you learn to love them ask much as you do robin and nami
— tell them stories of your home they wanna hear about it all the time especially if simultaneously they all can’t sleep and want to hear your voice
— they know how stubborn you can be so when you go into battle and almost sacrifice yourself so they can live they can get pretty mad at you but they know it comes from a place of love and respect
— i know that amazon’s have super strength and so does the crew so when you guys them they get kinda scared because of your bone crushing hugs
— if you don’t understand why some people do certain things then they’ll explain it to you
— sanji love it when you tell him about food that you ate when you were a child he tried to recreate it with you helping him
— they know how passionate you can be one time you were telling them how much you love them and made them cry
— whenever zoro gets lost you always find him first or he finds you first becuase he can feel your passion 100 miles away
— luffy definitely flexes on law and kid that he has an amazing warrior on his crew and they don’t (they admire you just as much and are kind jealous)
— if someone were to ever catcall you or harass you before you can get a word at there all jumping the person making there life absolutely fucking miserable
— for your birthday they did the cutest thing they had the sunny decorated like your home island from what they could make out of the books and just made you fell right at home
— when they find out your a princess that doesn’t change a thing about they see you but they can tell that another place you get your passion from
— nami will probably ask you for some money and you give it to her becuase you love her so much and she never charges you because of it
How would the strawhats react if they encounter bad guys who want to eat chimera reader believing eating the dragon bottom half of her will give them power?
Yeah, but I was thinking about kidd and law joining in, too.
STRAWHATS X CHIMERA READER
You were kidnapped by beast pirate, and they take to onigashima where kaido and other friends want to eat your bottom half body. But not yet until big mom arrives.
So why do they want to eat your bottom half body cause if they eat your half body, they can transform like you and they can destroy wano.
Here is gonna start.
Queen will perform on stage.
Then, the three leads performers and fukurokuju will make toast.
Then orochi and kaido will give speeches.
Big mom will arrive with a ship.
Big mom and kaido will announce the world's strongest pirate alliance. Last, you'll come to stage and kaido will kill you and drink your half body so as big mom.
Kaido and big mom will transform a chimera, and the whole beast pirate will also drink or eat your body.
The strawhat also your cousin, kidd, law, and the samurai made it to onigashima to save Momonosake and you before it's too late. They went to disguise the beast pirate.
Luffy follows kidd who didn't want to follow the plan, and luffy couldn't find him, so he started searching kidd. Luffy meets up with people who have good feasts. "Yup! It pretty delicious! But what more delicious?" Said the man.
Luffy looked at him, confused. "What?" He asks, "Don't you remember!? Kaido and big mom are gonna eat (Y/N) alive!" He said laughing and the members join too, laughing. Luffy was shocked. They kidnap you, and they gonna eat you alive.
When the strawhat heard that kaido and big mom eat your entire half body to order to transform into chimera and they also heard, that while the beast drag to the cell. You were screaming, yelling Luffy name.
The beast pirate makes fun of you screaming, crying like a baby. They won't allow it. As for you, you're trapped on the cell. You have to get out of here, so you bite your arm and transform something dangerous.
Luffy destroyed the party, kidd and law joining the fight, but then they the ground shake. Out of nowhere, a gaint lion appeared on the ground, and it's a female lion.
The female lion neck is with a dragon body with a white bird feather and has horns on it head. "(Y/N)!?" Your cousin shouts, the people were shaken up. You're twice as big as your original form body. The crew was shocked by how you became.
"Kill her!" The beast pirate tries to kill an order to eat your body, but you... kill them, eat them, stomp at them. You started eating them out of control, this isn't the real you. You wouldn't eat a human, and you also attacked kaido and Big Mom.
"(Y/N)! Stop it! Please!" Chooper cried as you started eating people. The beast cries in pain of your sharp teeth. You saw Chooper and tried to eat him, but (C/N) catches him.
"(Y/N), please! Listen to us!" Nami pleased as she cried, "(Y/N)! You have to snap out of it!" Sanji yelled. Luffy jumped towards you and landed on your face. You try to shake him away, but luffy puts his hand on your cheeks. "(Y/N), if you still in there. Please, come back to us,please." He says, then you began to remember the memories you have, how you laugh, and play.
You finally back, but still in the female lion head. "L-luffy..." You mumbled, luffy was surprised and began to cry, "yeah! It me, luffy! I'm sorry, I didn't make it in time!" He cried.
You were happy to see your family, but there's no time to be happy. You and Strawhat pirate has a challenge to fight kaido and big mom!
law was not going to ask no matter how curious he had gotten. the small chalk board in the corner of the eating area on the thousand sunny had been taunting him since he first saw it two days ago. he could see words on it followed by tally marks, but he hadn’t dared to walk close enough to see what was written on it.
“what has your attention, law?” robin asked one day after dinner. you and sanji in the middle of removing the clean plates from the table.
“nothing,”
“it’s the chalkboard isn’t it?” nami grinned, getting up from her seat to bring it to the table. she handed it to zoro who, reluctantly, pushed it to law.
how many times has (name) been kidnapped, it said, followed by six tally marks.
law blinked. what? he looked at the smaller text in the left lower corner.
kidnapped and almost gotten married, followed by two tally marks. he deadpanned, looking back up to see amusement on all of their faces, “what is this?”
robin chuckled, amused, “it’s us keeping count of how many times (name) has been kidnapped,”
obviously. but that didn’t answer his real questions, which respectfully were: huh? and what the fuck? law looked down at the chalkboard again before his gaze went to you. you smiled sheepishly at him, sitting down next to luffy again.
“ah!” usopp suddenly exclaimed, reaching for the board, “we forgot to add one more, from sabaody,”
you gasped, “i forgot about that one,”
… you forgot about that one?
why was this a normal thing? why did this seem like normal conversation for you? law had a lot of questions and knowing all of you, he wasn’t going to get them.
nami laughed at law’s expression and clear confusion. she pushed a glass of water to him, “don’t worry too much about it. we got her back every time,”
that’s not…
“oh, and,” you spoke up, looking at usopp, “it also happened during the two years we were apart!”
“really?”
nami did not sound as concerned as she should. you simply nodded in confirmation. you’re all insane, law concluded.
“which one?”
“yes,”
this time nami sighed, “again? you almost got married again?”
after you confirmed, luffy began laughing along with zoro and robin, while sanji fell to his knees at the thought of one of his beloved being stolen away to get married (for the third time).
“i’m sorry i wasn’t there to protect you, my lovely,” he sincerely apologized, taking your hand and placing a few kisses on it.
you waved him off, “don’t worry about it, sanji. i got away,”
law felt like he was going to faint at the sight of your bright grin. all of you were absolutely insane.
All Y/N ever wanted to do was sing her songs and be free. Yet somehow, after offering to pay for the meal of a certain boy in a straw hat she finds herself causing havoc through the East Blue.
Masterlist - Next.
Trigger warning: violence, death, abuse, trauma. Word count: 10K
A/N: The only thing I will be describing about Y/N is her hair colour. Everything else you can imagine her as you wish.
Disclaimer: The songs I will be using in this fic aren't mine bc I have 0 creativity. I'm sorry.
"Easy. Easy!"
Nami, Luffy, Usopp, and Y/N struggled to carry Zoro’s unconscious, bloodied body onto the Going Merry. The swordsman was dead weight—his usual strength now replaced by alarming stillness, and every step felt like a race against time.
"Easy!" Nami huffs.
Y/N pushed the galley door open with her shoulder and all but shoved everything off the kitchen island in one sweep, “Put him here! Try not to drop him, Usopp!”
"I didn’t,” Usopp grunted, his arms trembling under the weight as they carefully maneuvered Zoro onto the cleared surface. “He’s really heavy. I mean, he’s got a really big head. It’s, like, freakishly big.”
Y/N barely acknowledged the comment, but it is already working fast. She grabbed a paring knife and cut away Zoro’s blood-soaked shirt, revealing a gash that made her stomach turn. Her hands hovered above his chest for a moment—uncertain where to even begin—before she snapped herself into motion again.
Nami dashed off to grab a towel, muttering something under her breath."What does that have to do with anything?"
Y/N barely registered Luffy’s voice as he leaned in closer to Zoro, his usual bright tone now hushed and trembling. “Zoro? Hey, can you hear me?”
Nami, quick on her feet, folded a towel and slipped it under Zoro’s head to cushion it against the hard surface of the table. The gesture was careful, almost tender.
Cabinets slammed open and shut behind her as Usopp darted from one corner of the kitchen to the other. “Where’s the first aid kit?”
“De we even have a first aid kit?” Nami grumbled ya as she went to stand next to Y/N. Both girls shared a Look. This is bad.
“These are all I could find!” Usopp returned a moment later, arms full of half-clean towels, a bottle of who-knew-what, and a cracked tin of bandages. He dumped it all onto the table in front of them. “Where’s he bleeding from?”
“Everywhere,” Y/N grabbed a towel and rushed to the basin. The faucet sputtered before water finally flowed, and she soaked the cloth as fast as she could, squeezing it once before darting back.
Usopp moved to her side and helped with the water, his eyes wide, his hands twitchy. “We need more towels.”
“No,” Nami said, shaking her head. “We need a doctor.”
“Well, last I checked, we don’t have one!” Usopp snapped, his voice a little too loud in the tight space.
“There’s got to be someone at the Baratie who can help,” Y/N said quickly, voice taut as a bowstring as she cleaned the blood away. Her hands were slightly shaking now. Zoro didn’t even flinch—he was just still. Too still.
“Luffy?” Nami called out, glancing over her shoulder toward the boy captain. Her voice was sharper now, cutting through the tension like a blade. “Luffy! Someone needs to go back to Baratie!”
He blinked, clearly struggling to pull himself from the sight of Zoro—so still, so bloodied. “Um… I’m really not hungry right now, Nami.”
Y/N’s jaw tensed as she pressed a towel harder against a wound, eyes flicking toward him. She got it—truly. Shock did strange things to people. The first time she saw someone bleed like this, she’d panicked too, but there came a point when fear had to give way to action, and they were well past that point.
She didn’t say anything, just pursed her lips and forced herself to stay calm, even as her hands trembled from the pressure she was applying.
Nami, however, had no patience left. She nearly growled in frustration. “Not for food! Maybe one of the customers is a ship’s doctor!”
“Right,” Luffy said, blinking again as if he was trying to reboot his brain. “A doctor.”
It wasn’t much, but something clicked behind his eyes—some return to clarity. And though he still moved like he was walking through water, he turned and began to head for the galley door. “We need a doctor.”
Y/N pressed a fresh towel to it, her hands slick with blood, jaw tight with focus. She could feel the pulsing heat of it, the way the bleeding refused to stop. Her fingers trembled as she reached for the cup of water Usopp had just filled, dipping another cloth in it, trying to clean around the wound without making things worse.
"Keep that one there," she said to Nami, nodding to the towel near Zoro’s collarbone. "Firm, steady pressure. Don't lift it."
Nami nodded wordlessly, her own hands red to the wrists, her forehead glistening with sweat. She had seen plenty of danger in her time, but this—watching someone she knew bleed out in front of her—this was different.
“I—I don’t know what to do,” Usopp stammered, backing away from the table like the blood might leap at him. “Is he gonna die? He’s gonna die, isn’t he?”
“He’s not going to die,” she said firmly, though her stomach twisted at the lie. “Not if we keep him breathing."
She leaned in, eyes scanning the torn flesh. It was deep—deeper than anything she’d ever tried to fix. And so clean, too, like it had been carved with surgical precision.
“He needs stitches,” Y/N murmured, more to herself than anyone else. The words hung there, cold and impossible. She wasn’t a doctor. She’d done a few messy patches in back alleys before, helped close up a wound or two with trembling hands and borrowed thread—but nothing like this.
Nami glanced over, her hands still pressed down on a towel rapidly turning scarlet. “Can you do it?”
“I... I don't know, I don’t think we have a needle that’s strong enough,” she said, eyes darting across the kitchen. “Or thread thick enough to hold skin.”
“There’s gotta be something,” Nami said, her voice clipped and panicked. “You seem like you’ve done this before—can’t you just—just improvise?”
“I am improvising,” Y/N snapped, voice sharper than she meant, her hands shaking ever so slightly as she gripped the make-do supplies. “Gods, where is Luf—”
The galley door slammed open.
Speak of the devil.
Luffy burst in—and behind him, to Y/N’s utter confusion, came the blond, sharply dressed waiter who’d flirted with anything that moved, and the rough, one-legged chef who had dragged Luffy to the kitchens the night before.
“What the—?” Y/N blinked, thrown completely.
“Are you kidding?” Nami snapped at Luffy, “He needs a doctor!”
“Do you wanna save your swordsman friend or not?” the wooden-legged chef snapped, already brushing past them without waiting for permission.
Y/N and Nami instinctively moved aside, letting the man work, though their hands hovered like they were ready to jump back in at any second. The chef—Zeff, if Y/N remembered right—tossed off the bloody towels and assessed the wound with a cool, calculating look, like he’d seen worse and fixed worse.
Sanji—yes, that was the waiter’s name—set down an armful of supplies beside him. Y/N caught the glint of steel—actual knives, proper scissors, a big curved needle, spools of dark thread.
And... a yellowtail fish.
Y/N blinked. She looked at the fish. Then at them. Then back at the fish.
Was that part of the plan?
Before she could ask, there was the distinct pop of a bottle opening.
“Is that to sterilize the wounds?” Usopp asked, hope flickering in his voice.
“Hell, no,” said Zeff, already lifting it to his mouth. “That’d be a waste of really good liquor.”
He took a long swig, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and gave Zoro a look like he was sizing up a slab of meat he was about to butcher—or save.
Y/N, hands still stained red and jaw clenched, stared at the scene unfolding in front of her. It wasn’t what she expected. Not even close.
“Beautiful,” Zeff murmured—not to Zoro, but to the fish—as he began slicing it with the kind of practiced ease only a lifetime in a kitchen could give. His knife moved like it was part of his hand, clean and precise. In moments, he was separating the skin from the flesh and setting it gently on a clean plate like it was a delicacy.
Y/N’s eyes widened—then narrowed with realization. Her doubts vanished in an instant. She knew exactly what he was about to do.
“Needle,” Zeff said, holding out his hand without looking.
Sanji passed it over without a word, the sharp arc of it gleaming under the light.
Y/N, Luffy, and Nami stood frozen, watching in stunned silence as the old chef leaned in and began stitching Zoro’s gash. His movements were swift but careful, efficient without cruelty. Each pass of the needle tugged skin back together, layer by layer, until the worst of the wound was closed.
Then, with the same steady hands, Zeff lifted the prepared fish skin and began laying it over the wound like a graft.
“Why are you putting that on him?” Usopp asked, his voice cracking slightly from the back of the room.
Before Zeff could answer, Y/N spoke. She didn’t mean to. It slipped out, too fast, too natural, like it was instinct.
“It helps the skin regenerate faster,” she said, eyes still fixed on the wound. “It’s one of the only things that can bond quickly to broken skin, it's quicker than cloth. Holds moisture. It—heals better.”
Usopp blinked. “...How do you know that?”
Y/N didn’t look at him. She forced a shrug, trying to keep her voice level. “Read it in a book.”
Zeff, for his part, didn’t question it. He just kept working, wrapping another piece of the fish skin gently across Zoro’s side.
“You’ve got good instincts, girl,” he muttered without looking at her.
Y/N didn’t respond. She just stared at Zoro, willing his chest to rise a little more steadily, for the color to return to his lips. Willing something in him to fight back. To stay.
“He’s gonna be okay,” she whispered, more a plea than a promise.
Zeff wiped his hands on a towel, the tension in the room thick as the blood drying on the floor.
“Look, I’m not gonna lie to you,” he said, glancing at the table and then back at them. “He’s lost a lot of blood. It might be too late for him.”
Y/N’s breath caught. Her stomach felt like it dropped through the wooden boards beneath her feet. She stared harder at Zoro, as if glaring at the Reaper himself, refusing to let go.
“But it might not be,” Luffy chimed in quietly from behind her, voice soft but the hope unwavering.
And damn it, Y/N was grateful for that hope. For Luffy’s impossible, stubborn faith—because right now, hers was cracking.
Zeff gave a short nod, his gruff voice cutting through the air again. “He’s got one foot in each world right now, caught between life and death. You have to find a way to keep him tethered to our world.”
Y/N furrowed her brow. “What do you mean?”
“Talk to him,” Zeff said simply. “Tell him stories. Remind him who he is. Sing him sea shanties for all I care. Anything to keep his mind from drifting too far. He may not reply, but at least he’ll know his crew are still with him."
Y/N looked back down at Zoro, her fingers brushing lightly against his wrist—barely a pulse. His face was pale, features drawn like stone. He looked like he was already gone.
But he wasn’t, not yet.
She bit her lip, hard, then slid a stool over, sitting beside the island. Her hand settled on his, gentle but firm.
“Tether him,” she whispered under her breath.
They could do that. So they did.
Once Zeff finished stitching w,rapping Zoro’s wounds and confirmed Zoro was stable for now, the crew moved him with painstaking care to Nami’s room—she insisted, saying it was the closest to the kitchen and had the softest bedding. No one argued. No one had the energy.
Hours passed. Then a full day, then another. Time bent strangely around the ship, caught in a hush of half-whispers, shallow breathing, and the occasional creak of wood and waves. The Going Merry floated as if in mourning, the air thick with waiting.
They hardly left his side.
Luffy, least of all. He sat beside Zoro’s bed with his hat in his lap and a look in his eyes Y/N hadn’t seen before—not even during fights or storms.
Nami kept vigil at night, curling up in the corner with a blanket and glaring at anyone who tried to make her leave. Usopp tried to stay brave, but often hovered outside the door like he couldn’t bring himself to go in for too long.
And Y/N?
She moved around them all like clockwork. Quiet, constant, present. She made sure Zoro’s bandages stayed clean, that everyone ate something—even if it was just bread or tea. When Luffy refused to budge for nearly a day, she dragged him to the shower herself.
“Five minutes,” she told him sternly. “Or I’m coming in after you.”
He obeyed—reluctantly.
The ship felt like it was caught in a kind of time spell. No one trained. No one joked. The sun rose and set outside, but within the Merry, everything held its breath.
So Y/N did the one thing that felt right at the moment and truly because no one else had the energy for cooking—she went to the Baratie to buy some food.
She tied her hair up and rolled her sleeves, smoothing her shawl over her shoulders as she stepped off the Merry and onto the Baratie. The floating restaurant gleamed in the late afternoon light, all polished wood and stained glass, like a ship that belonged more in dreams than on the sea.
She walked through the entrance with quiet purpose, heels tapping against fine tile as chandeliers sparkled above her. Tables lined the open floor, each one covered in crisp white cloth, polished silverware, and plates too delicate for the kind of storm churning in her chest.
Y/N was halfway through scanning the menu at a corner table (which she had to bribe the host for) when a familiar voice floated in with the same buttery smoothness he probably used for every woman who walked in.
“Now that’s a view I wouldn’t mind plating up.”
Sanji emerged from the kitchen a second later, sharp in black and white, sleeves rolled up, towel draped across his shoulder, and that ever-present flirt in his eyes.
“Back already, Mon chérie?” he asked, sliding up beside her table like he belonged there. “Let me guess—you missed me.”
Y/N didn’t look up right away. She calmly flipped the menu closed and rested her chin in her hand, casting him a sideways glance.
“Missed you?” she echoed, voice lilting, “What a bold assumption. I only came back because I heard the fish were fresher today.”
Sanji clutched at his chest dramatically. “You wound me.”
“That’s funny,” she said, smiling sweetly. “Most men don’t realize they’ve been wounded until it’s far too late, loverboy.”
His grin flickered, just for a second—like he couldn’t decide if he was being flirted with or threatened but he liked it either way.
“Well, if you’re here for food, allow me to make a personal recommendation—anything cooked by these hands is practically a love letter.”
“I prefer my love letters spelled correctly and not dripping in butter,” she replied, crossing one leg over the other, eyes gleaming. “Though the butter’s tempting.”
Sanji gave a low laugh, clearly enjoying the banter more than he probably should’ve. “Mon chérie, you're either trying to seduce me or destroy me.”
“Can’t it be both?” she asked, resting her chin in her hand again. “Anyway, I'm not here to banter—much as you seem to crave it. I’m here for the others. Thought I’d try and cheer everyone up before the brooding officially becomes contagious.”
Sanji hums, brushing his flour-dusted hands against his apron. “Your friend still hasn’t opened his eyes?”
Y/N’s smile faltered just a touch. “Not yet.”
There was a beat of silence before she added, "Luffy’s hardly eaten a bite, which I’m pretty sure breaks at least three laws of nature. Everyone else is just... stuck. You ever see a ship caught in still water?”
He nodded, the smile slipping just a little.
“I figured I’d bring something back,” she continued. “Something warm. Something familiar. Food’s the best medicine we’ve got right now.”
Sanji gave a low, appreciative whistle. “Charming and wise. A girl after my own heart."
She rolled her eyes with a soft chuckle. “Flatter me all you want, but I’m only buying what I can carry. Just a few things. Enough for comfort food. Warm rice, some fish and sauce, maybe fruit? I know Nami likes them—figured it might cheer her up a bit.”
Sanji didn’t answer right away.
Instead, he studied her for a beat—long enough that Y/N felt a flicker of discomfort under the weight of his gaze. It wasn’t the usual kind of look men gave her. There was no teasing grin, no swooning tilt of the head. Just... observation. Like he was trying to read something between her words, between her smile.
“You really care for them, don’t you?” he asked quietly.
Y/N blinked, caught off guard.
“I… well, I do,” she said, tone lighter than her pulse. “Been traveling with them for some time now. Would be weird if I didn’t.”
It was the truth, mostly. Or at least, the part she was allowed to say.
She’d grown used to Luffy’s chaos, to Nami’s sharp eyes and thong, to Usopp’s, tho only knowing him for a few days, tall tales and Zoro’s quiet strength. Somewhere along the way, it had stopped being just survival and started to feel like… something more. Something closer.
But admitting that? Saying it out loud? That was a different kind of exposure, it had been a long while since she had last felt this way... actually it was since she had roamed with Tallen and the other sirens.
Sanji’s expression softened, the flirtation dimming into something quieter. Then he nodded, like he’d come to some personal conclusion.
“Let me cook for you.”
Y/N blinked. “What?”
He gestured toward the kitchen with a dramatic little flourish, towel flicking like a stage curtain. “I'm sure in an hour or so we will have some ingredients we won't use, I can whip something up—real food, comfort food. For you. For your crew.”
She tilted her head slightly, narrowing her eyes—not suspicious, just trying to keep up. “That’s generous of you, but no, I couldn't you and Zeff have done enough already.”
“Please,” he scoffed, but the smirk was softer now. “You think I can just stand by knowing there’s a crew full of hungry, miserable people floating outside my restaurant? That your captain hasn’t eaten? I couldn't live with myself."
Y/N hesitated, arms crossed loosely. She wasn’t used to people offering to help without a price. Without a reason. Without her having to ask. But then she thought of Luffy, hunched over the bed like a statue. Nami’s clenched jaw. Usopp’s worried pacing. The way Zoro looked was far too still.
“Also,” Sanji added, tapping his chin thoughtfully, “I was hoping if I fed you all well enough, maybe you’d smile at me like that again.”
She scoffed—but she was already smiling. “You’re bloody relentless.”
“Determine,” he corrected with a wink. “And a damn good cook. Let me do what I’m best at.”
“Careful,” she said, lips curling into a wry smile. “You keep saying stuff like that, and I might actually start trusting you.”
Sanji gave a low, satisfied laugh. “Then I’ll make sure dinner lives up to it.”
She let out a breath, considering. Her instincts—usually guarded, protective—didn’t flare with danger. Not with him. He was a flirt, sure, but something about him told her he meant it. Not the compliments. Not the show. This. The cooking. The feeding. The giving.
“…Fine,” she said at last, exhaling as she stood. “If you insist—but nothing fancy.”
Sanji pressed a hand to his chest, mock-offended. “You wound me. My least fancy dish still brings tears to grown men’s eyes.”
She rolled her eyes but couldn’t fight the small smile tugging at her lips and said playfully. “If I see one pansy on the plate, I’m tossing you into the sea.”
“If it’s you doing the tossing, I might just let it happen.” said the blonde.
She rolled her eyes and walked toward the door. “Bring the food, cook. Then you can flirt.”
“Deal,” he called after her. “Just don’t fall for me before dessert!”
Y/N smirked to herself as she walks
Not likely, she thought but she had to admit—it was kind of nice having someone else carry the pot for once.
Hours later, the kitchen on the Going Merry was filled with steam, warmth, and for the first time in days, smell like some real food.
Y/N worked beside Sanji, shoulders brushing from time to time in the cramped space as they shaped rice balls together. The rice stuck to her fingers, no matter how many times she dipped her hands in water, but the act of pressing it together was strangely comforting. She didn’t even mind when Sanji gently corrected her technique—for the third time—with a little smirk and a too-charming, “Not bad, but watch your thumb.”
They’d kept it simple: warm rice, salted fish, a bit of seaweed.
Y/N placed the finished rice balls in a plate and dusted her hands off with a sigh. “I’ll take these to Nami. She’s been sitting with him all morning.”
Sanji didn’t look up from where he was slicing vegetables for the next dish. “Tell her there’s more coming. Some garlic fish.”
She smiled slightly. “Thanks, loverboy.”
He gave her a mock bow. “Always a pleasure to serve you, ma chérie.”
She slipped out of the kitchen and padded down the hall, knocking lightly on Usopp’s door.
“It’s food time,” she called gently. “Real food. Not crackers and bread.”
A muffled reply came through, something like, “Coming!”, followed by the sound of something clattering to the floor. She smiled to herself and kept moving.
As she turned the corner, she nearly bumped into Luffy.
He stood in the hallway, Zoro’s swords carefully tucked under one arm, a rag in his other hand. There was a smudge on his cheek and a familiar glint in his eyes—not quite as bright as usual, but still very much Luffy.
“Stud, here you are,” she said gently.
He looked up, blinking at the sight of her—and more importantly, the rice balls.
“You made food?” he asked, eyes lighting up but not like before.
“Sanji did most of it,” she said with a little shrug. “He’s got something going in there. Rice balls, fish. Smells like heaven. "she then nudge at the swrods. "Zoro's sword?"
He held up one of Zoro’s swords like it was made of glass. “I was gonna clean ‘em before he wakes up. So they’re shiny. You think he’ll like that?”
Y/N paused, then smiled. “Yeah. I think he’ll like that a lot, but go eat before Ussop ravished it all."
Luffy grinned and nodded once before heading off, humming softly under his breath as he went.
Y/N watched him for a moment, then turned and made her way toward Nami’s room, the plate of rice balls still warm in her hands and the scent of comfort trailing behind her like a quiet promise.
Y/N watched Luffy disappear down the corridor, humming with Zoro’s swords tucked protectively under his arm, before she turned and continued toward Nami’s room. The plate of rice balls was still warm in her hands, the scent of seaweed and vinegar rice rising gently with every step.
She paused at the door and knocked softly.
“Hey, pumpkin,” she called with a teasing lilt, “brought you some food.”
She pushed the door open gently and stepped inside.
Nami looked up from her seat by the bed, a worn book resting open in her lap. She was reading aloud—softly, steadily—to Zoro, whose chest rose and fell in shallow, sleeping breaths. His face looked a little less pale now. Less ghost-like.
Nami offered a tired smile, her eyes rimmed with exhaustion but softer than they’d been earlier. “You made rice balls?”
“Sanji did,” Y/N said, stepping in. “I supervised. Threatened him a little. Standard stuff.”
She set the plate down gently on the bedside table, close enough for Nami to reach but far enough not to disturb the quiet.
Nami gave a breathy laugh. “Sounds like you.”
Y/N shifted a little closer to the bed, and she reached out and brushed a few strands of hair off his forehead. His skin was still warm, slightly clammy, but the color was better than the day before.
“Any difference?” Y/N asked softly, her voice just above a whisper as her fingers brushed gently away a stray lock of green hair from Zoro’s forehead.
“Still out,” Nami murmured, her lips pursed, eyes locked on him like she could will him back with enough focus alone. She didn't say much—but she didn’t have to. Y/N knew that look, that stillness. She’d worn it herself too many times before. “But… I think his color’s better. I’ve been reading to him. Thought maybe hearing our voices might help.”
Y/N nodded slowly, glancing at the book resting open on Nami’s lap. The pages were worn, sea-softened at the corners.
“What is it?” she asked gently.
Nami gave a little shrug. “Just a storybook I found.”
Y/N let out a quiet breath and lowered herself into the empty chair beside her, taking a rice ball. “Well, go on then, pumpkin. Don’t stop on my account.”
Nami hesitated for a moment, then looked down at the page and picked up where she left off.
“In a certain country, in the northern seas, there was an explorer named Mont Blanc Noland.”
Her voice softened with rhythm, almost like a lullaby.
“His stories were always grand adventures that sounded like lies.”
“Noland told his king he found a city of gold, but when the king went to claim the treasure, the city was gone, and most of the king’s soldiers perished on the journey.”
Y/N leaned forward slightly, resting her chin on her hand, watching both Nami and Zoro in turn. The story washed over the room, strange and sad and oddly fitting.
“Noland was sentenced to death,” Nami continued, more quietly now, “but he continued to lie to his king, insisting the city of gold sank into the sea.”
A pause.
“And… even though nobody believed him, he never stopped lying until he was dead.”
The room settled into a heavy silence. Nami stared down at the page, and Y/N opened her mouth—maybe to shift the mood, maybe to say something thoughtful—but someone beat her to it.
“Poor guy," came Luffy’s voice from the doorway. "Can you imagine that? Losing a whole city of gold? ”
Y/N tensed slightly. She hadn’t even realized he was there, leaning against the doorframe. His voice was light, casual.
Nami didn’t even look up. “I don’t think that was the point of the story.”
“Stories can have different points,” Luffy said as he stepped into the room. “I mean… why did the king have to kill him?”
“Sometimes,” Nami said, her tone tight, like she was holding something back and failing, "when you’re in charge, you have to make the tough decisions.”
There it was—that cold edge. Passive-aggressive, laced with hurt, and barely disguised under the thinnest veil of civility.
Y/N closed her eyes for a moment, then rubbed her temples.
Here it comes.
Luffy let out a quiet laugh, though Y/N heard no humor in it. Just that same, strange heaviness that had crept into him over the past few days. “Why does everybody keep saying that?”
“Because you could’ve saved Zoro.” Nami stood, finally turning to face him. Her voice wasn’t raised, but it struck like a whip.
Y/N sat up straighter, already feeling a headache blooming behind her eyes.
“Can we please not—” she started, trying to cut in, to soothe the sparks before they turned into something worse.
But Nami wasn’t finished.
“Zoro didn’t have to fight Mihawk. But he let it happen.” She looked at Luffy, eyes sharp and angry. “You let it happen. Why didn’t you stop him?”
Luffy looked at her and for once, he didn’t smile. "I didn’t think he was going to lose."
Nami stared at him, disbelief washing over her features like a rising tide. “You could’ve tried to change his mind.”
“I would never do that,” Luffy said simply.
“So you’d rather see him like this?” Her voice cracked, thick with anger and something sharper beneath it—fear. “He might die, Luffy.”
That word settled in the air like smoke.
Die.
Y/N shifted where she sat, her hands curling slightly on her lap. The thought alone made her stomach twist into a knot. She didn’t say anything, but her eyes flicked back to Zoro, still and pale beneath the blankets, and she swallowed hard.
“And I’d do anything to save him,” Luffy continued, softer now, but with no less conviction. “Anything. Except stands in the way of his dream.”
Nami let out a bitter, shaky breath. “We all have dreams, but we outgrow them.”
Luffy’s head tilted, and for a moment, he just looked at her. Like he was trying to understand something impossible.
“Is that really what you think?” he asked. “Don’t you have a dream?”
There was a pause, and this time—Nami was the one who seemed to be dismisive.
“Yeah,” she said flatly. “Right now, it’s for Zoro to not die in my bed.”
“But isn’t there something that you want?” Luffy asked with that wide-eyed honesty only he seemed to carry. “Something more. More than anything else in this world?”
Y/N’s eyes drifted toward Nami. She didn’t move. Didn’t speak right away. But Y/N saw it—the flicker. The way her jaw tensed, how her fingers curled just slightly at her sides. She was thinking of something, maybe about someone. That question had struck something deeper than either of them probably realized.
Nami kept her gaze on Luffy, but Y/N saw the moment her guard wavered.
The silence stretched between them and then—softly, bitterly—Nami said, “Not everyone gets to follow their dreams.”
And then, without another word, she turned and walked out the door. Y/N didn’t try to stop her.
Y/N stayed where she was, eyes flicking between the door and Luffy, who stood now in the middle of the room staring at where the orange-haired girl was. He looked like he’d been struck, not quite hurt, but confused. As if he couldn’t even imagine a world where dreams didn’t get to come true.
Y/N rose slowly, folding her arms loosely over her chest.
“She didn’t mean that the way it sounded,” she said gently.
Luffy didn’t reply at first.
His fingers twitched at his sides.
“She’s scared,” Y/N continued. “That’s all. And when people are scared, they start burying their dreams. Pretend they never had them.”
“She shouldn’t have to pretend,” Luffy said, staring down at the floor. “Nobody should.”
Y/N tilted her head slightly, watching him.
“You’re not wrong,” she said. “But… it’s easier to forget about your dreams when you’re afraid they’ll never come true.”
He looked at her then, and for the first time since this started, he looked tired. Not defeated. Not broken. Just... human.
Y/N offered a small smile, soft around the edges. “You didn’t let him down, stud.”
“Feels like I did,” Luffy said, his voice barely above a murmur.
“Well,” she replied gently, “when he wakes up, I’m sure he’ll be glad you let him choose—just like he was before.” She glanced toward the bed, her voice softening. “Besides, I hardly think we could’ve stopped him even if we tried.”
A small chuckle escaped Luffy—not his usual boisterous laugh, but a tired, real one. He stepped forward and sat at the foot of the bed without saying anything more.
Y/N moved slowly, settling into the chair beside Zoro again. She smoothed the edge of the blanket, brushing her fingers lightly against his hand. The tension in the room had dulled now, quieter. More fragile.
She let out a long, slow breath, then leaned forward just a little.
“You remember that lullaby I said I’d write for you, hotshot?” she murmured. “Well… I never got around to finishing it, so you’re gonna have to deal with a half-sung, half-hummed version.”
She exhaled softly, then let the melody rise, slow and low—more hum than words at first. The kind of tune that came from the sea.
She sat up a little straighter, voice still soft, but this time there was rhythm in it—a steady beat like the echo of boots on a ship’s deck, like the clash of steel. A heartbeat in song.
Three swords, one goal, and a promise made—
Eyes like fire, never once afraid. Steel sings loud where silence falls,
And even blood can’t drown your calls.
Luffy blinked beside her, listening now with a grin slowly returning to his face.
He trains at dawn, he sleeps on deck,
He drinks like six and still don’t wreck,
He never runs, he never begs,
He’d fight a god with broken legs.
She tossed Luffy a grin, and he grinned right back, "That one was good."
Y/N turned back to Zoro, the smile softening, though the tone stayed light.
You’re too damn tough for death to take,
Too stubborn for your soul to break,
So wake up now, or don’t complain,
When I write this song and steal your fame.
Luffy gave a dramatic little clap, clearly delighted.
Y/N gave Zoro’s arm a gentle pat. “There. I immortalized your stubborn ass in song. That means you have to wake up now. Can’t have people thinking I wrote it for someone else.”
They both turned back to Zoro. Still breathing and still fighting—somehow.
Usopp slipped into the room.
“How’s he doing?” he asked, voice low but laced with hope.
Luffy, who’d been quietly staring at Zoro—eyes wide open, not sad, not smiling, just waiting—answered without turning. “He hasn’t said a word. Not even when Y/N sang to him.”
Y/N arched a brow from her seat, a grin already tugging at the corner of her mouth. “Rather rude of him, right?”
Usopp chuckled, then nudged Luffy lightly. “Maybe you should talk to him, too.”
Luffy frowned. “What would I even say?”
Usopp shrugged. “Whatever pops in your head. Just… speak from the gut.”
“My gut hasn’t been so great lately,” Luffy replied, light in tone but heavy in truth.
Y/N smiled softly but didn’t speak. She was still sitting nearby, legs curled up beneath her, watching with that quiet kind of knowing she always carried when emotions ran too high for everyone else.
“At least he’ll know it’s you,” Usopp said, a little gentler now. “What do you got to lose?”
Luffy paused, staring at Zoro like he was trying to have a conversation without saying anything at all.
Then he slapped the wood of the bed, suddenly animated. “Hey, Zoro. What’s up?”
Y/N blinked, her grin returning instantly. Luffy’s sincerity was always… Luffy-shaped. Clumsy, honest, and somehow perfect.
“I just wanted to tell you that…” he paused, scratched the back of his head. “Okay, wait—let me start over. I’m just gonna… Hi, Zoro. Hi. You know, it’s—”
“Luffy!”
Nami’s voice rang sharp from the kitchen, slicing through the stillness of the ship like a whipcrack. It echoed off the wooden walls, sharp enough to snap them all to attention.
All three of them turned toward the door at once—Y/N, Luffy, and Usopp—frozen for half a heartbeat.
Then it came again, louder. More urgent.
“Luffy!”
There was no mistaking it now; something was wrong.
All at once, they moved—Luffy leading the charge, feet pounding against the floorboards. Usopp scrambled after him, dropping what was left of his rice ball. Y/N was right behind them, her pulse suddenly thudding in her ears, one hand lifting her skirt just enough to sprint.
They reached the galley just as Nami turned from the counter, her eyes wide, "The Arlong Pirates are at Baratie. We have to leave now."
Y/N froze in the doorway. The name hit her ears like a stone dropping into deep water.
The Arlong Pirates… They did sound familiar—but from where?
“What? Why?” Luffy frowned, stepping further into the room. “Why should we leave?”
“And the map,” she added, her voice tight. “Those fishmen will tear this place apart if Zeff doesn’t turn you over.”
Fishmen.
The word dropped into Y/N’s stomach like a weight.
Her breath hitched ever so slightly. Her fingers curled into the fabric of her skirt before she could stop them.
Oh… fishmen.
“Where are you going?”
Usopp’s voice cut through the tension, snapping Y/N out of her thoughts. She turned just in time to see Sanji striding toward the door, jaw tight.
“If Baratie’s in danger,” Sanji said stopping, “I need to be there.”
“I’m coming with you,” Luffy added without hesitation, already stepping forward.
“Did you not hear what I just said?” Nami snapped, barely keeping her frustration from boiling over. “They are hunting you. We need to run.”
“I’m with Nami on this one,” Usopp said quickly, raising a hand like a white flag. “I’m really not trying to ruffle any feathers… or scales…”
Y/N shift on her feet, "Luffy, let's just think for a second--"
“I’m not running,” Luffy said firmly, his voice low and unwavering. “We’re going to protect this place.”
Sanji frowns “This isn’t your fight. Why would you do that?”
Luffy glanced at him, his expression so simple, so Luffy, that Y/N almost laughed.
“You fed us,” he said, like that explained everything.
Nami stepped forward, her voice a little too quick, too sharp—not just worried.
Frightened.
“Look, I know this crew,” she said, eyes locked on Luffy, more desperate now than angry. “Their captain—Arlong—he’s got the highest bounty in all of the East Blue. You do not want to mess with him.”
Luffy tilted his head, calm as ever. “Sounds like he messed with us first.”
“Luffy, please,” Nami said, and this time it cracked. She stepped closer, the plea trembling just beneath the surface. “Please.”
Y/N watched her—really watched her. This wasn’t about strategy. This wasn’t just about a fight, it was something deeper.
But Luffy didn’t hesitate. “I can’t let innocent people get hurt because of me.”
He turned then, facing them—Usopp, Sanji, and... Y/N. That look in his eyes… that quiet fire. That same unshakable conviction that had carried them through every storm.
“If those fishmen guys want a fight,” he said, voice low but fierce, “we’re gonna give them one.”
Y/N’s stomach twisted—equal parts pride and nerves—but she didn’t move. Didn’t question it. That tone in his voice made you feel like you could move mountains or at least stand in the way of something terrible.
Luffy walked over to Nami and rested a hand on her shoulder—gentle, reassuring, not a command, just trust.
“You stay with the ship,” he said softly. “Protect the map, hmm? It’s gonna be safe with you.”
He gave her shoulder a small clap, something brotherly, something solid. He didn’t wait for her reply. He didn’t have to and then he turned and started walking out.
Y/N stood still, her fingers curling again at her sides.
There was a part of her screaming to stay behind. To hide. To take the map, the wounded, and vanish beneath the sea like a shadow. That ancient, primal part of her that knew how dangerous the world could be—especially when it came with names like Arlong.
But louder than that—growing with every moment, every reckless heartbeat—was something else. A part of her that didn’t want to see the Baratie torn apart. That didn’t want innocent people dragged into whatever mess fate had dumped at their feet. That didn’t want to let Luffy—idiotic, idealistic, impossible Luffy—go headfirst into danger alone.
And gods, more than anything, there was a part of her that didn’t want to run. For the first time in so so long, she wanted to be brave.
Godsdammit, she thought bitterly. His stupidity is rubbing off on me.
She glanced toward the door where Luffy had disappeared, then turned her eyes to Nami.
The girl still stood frozen in place, unmoving, her expression unreadable—but her fists were clenched at her sides.
“Nami,” Y/N said, voice low. Steady. Just enough pressure to cut through the weight in the room. “Tell me why you’re desperate to go.”
She stepped closer, not with force, but with familiarity—like someone who’s shared too many sleepless nights and stormy decks to be lied to.
“Just tell me, Nami.”
For a moment, silence hung between them.
Nami didn’t move. Didn’t blink. Her jaw worked, like she was grinding something behind her teeth she didn’t want to say.
Y/N softened her voice even more. “I know what it feels like… when running isn’t fear—it’s survival. When it’s the only thing you can do.”
Still, Nami didn’t speak.
She stood there, arms crossed tightly over her chest, eyes fixed on the floor like if she just stared hard enough, the weight of the world might finally lift. But it didn’t. It never did.
Y/N let out a slow, tired sigh and dragged a hand over her face. She felt the fatigue deep in her bones, the dread curled at the base of her spine—but her eyes still flicked toward the door.
She didn’t want to go.
She didn’t want to freaking go. Every bone in her body begged her to stay put. To shut the door. To stay safe.
'You’re not a fighter,' something whispered inside her. 'You’re a survivor.'
Her feet moved before her mind could catch up. One step. Then another. Toward the door. Toward the storm.
But just before crossing the threshold, she paused and turned her head, eyes catching Nami’s profile in the flickering light—still frozen, still silent.
“You’re not alone anymore, pumpkin,” Y/N said softly, her voice steady despite the fear still gnawing at her ribs. “You’re not.”
And then she was gone, the door swinging shut behind her with a soft click, leaving Nami in the quiet with nothing but the smell of rice, salt, and truth.
By the time Y/N made her way into the restaurant, the fight had already started.
The place was chaos.
Tables overturned, glass shattered across the floor, lanterns swinging wildly from the ceiling. The salty tang of blood and seawater filled the air.
Sanji lay slumped on the stairs, his shirt torn, blood trailing from the corner of his mouth. Usopp was crouched beside him, one hand braced on the banister, the other gripping his slingshot like it was the only thing keeping him grounded.
She barely registered them before her gaze snapped to the open space near the center of the floor.
Luffy was alone.
He stood across from a creature so massive, so unnaturally built, that the air seemed to shift around him. His skin was deep blue, stretched tight across muscle, his grin filled with rows of jagged teeth. His presence was suffocating. Even without an introduction, she knew.
Arlong.
She watched in horror as the Fish-man moved faster than she expected for someone of his size. With a roar, he drove a brutal punch straight into Luffy’s ribs, sending him flying across the room and into a support beam with a sickening crash. Dust shook loose from the ceiling, and Luffy’s body slumped at the base of the beam.
A sharp cry escaped Y/N’s throat before she could stop it. “Luffy!”
The word wasn’t loud, but it was enough. Every Fish-man in the room turned toward her like hounds catching a scent.
She felt the blood drain from her face.
Y/N’s feet froze in place. The bravado—the fierce, reckless fire she’d carried into this room—flickered like a candle in a hurricane and went out.
Just like that.
Her legs locked beneath her, breath caught in her throat. It was like the world had shifted focus—and now it was fixed on her.
Arlong’s eyes narrowed, and he didn’t speak at first. He took a slow step forward, his gaze never leaving hers. Then, as if something dawned on him, his expression changed, sharpening, twisting into something cruel.
There was no confusion in his stare. No curiosity, just certainty.
“Well, now,” he said, voice low and rasping like a blade dragged through gravel. “Would you look at that?”
Y/N couldn’t speak. She didn’t need to. It was already too late.
Instinct took over before reason had the chance to catch up.
The moment Arlong’s eyes lit with recognition, Y/N turned on her heel and ran. Her boots hit the cracked tile hard, the sting of panic flaring up her spine. She didn’t care about pride, not now—she needed to disappear, to get out, to breathe.
But she hadn’t seen the other Fish-man—tall and slim, with scaled arms and gills that flared like wings.
He moved fast—unnaturally so—and in the space between heartbeats, he was on her.
A clawed hand gripped her wrist like a vice, wrenching her backward. The second hand clamped over her mouth before she could make a sound, muffling her startled cry. She thrashed against him, heels skidding across the floor, but it was no use. His strength dwarfed hers like a tidal wave swallowing a ripple.
The room seemed to pause.
Arlong watched with a kind of venomous delight as she was dragged forward. He stepped into the light, grinning with slow, deliberate malice.
“Thought you could run?” he said mockingly, tilting his head as he stepped closer. “Little fish thinks she’s clever.”
Sanji, bloodied and barely on his feet, tried to push himself off the stairs. “Get your hands off her—!”
Before he could take a single step, another Fish-man backhanded him hard enough to send him crashing back into the railing, groaning.
Usopp, who’d been halfway to reaching for a slingshot, was struck down with a single sweep, knocked to the floor with a strangled cry.
Y/N’s heart pounded as she watched them fall—Sanji, Usopp—and then Luffy, still hunched near the broken support beam, dragged himself upright, hands trembling, blood smeared across his chin. His hat hung askew, casting a shadow over his eyes—but not enough to hide the fire behind them.
“Let her go.”
His voice wasn’t loud, it didn’t need to be.
Arlong turned toward him slowly, savoring the moment, still standing far too close to Y/N, who remained frozen in the grip of the Fish-man behind her.
“You don’t give orders here, boy,” Arlong said, flashing rows of serrated teeth. “You don’t understand what you’re protecting.”
“She’s my crewmate and my friend,” Luffy said, louder this time, straighter despite the ache in his ribs. “I don’t care what she is.”
Arlong barked a cold laugh, the sound grating and humorless. “You should. She’s a siren. She’s lied to you from the beginning. They always do. It’s in their blood. Deceit, betrayal—it’s what they’re made for.”
Y/N tried to shake her head, to scream through the hand still clamped over her mouth, but the Fish-man holding her only tightened his grip.
Luffy’s eyes never left hers.
He took a shaky step forward. “She’s not lying now.”
“You think she’s your friend?” Arlong snarled, finally losing some of that smug calm. “Her kind never pick a side unless it benefits them, they’re monsters. Traitors. Think they’re better than the rest of us because they can slither onto land and smile like nothing ever happened.”
He stepped back and spat in her face.
Y/N’s throat burned beneath the Fish-man’s calloused hand, her lungs screaming for breath. Her body heaved in his grip as she fought for control, for air, for anything—but the harder she struggled, the tighter his hold became, like he wanted to crush the resistance out of her.
Arlong leaned in close, his breath hot and foul against her skin, his twisted grin carved deep into his shark-like face.
“You thought you could pretend, little siren?” he whispered, slow and cruel, dragging each word like a blade. “Thought you’d be safe among the humans? That you could run from what you are?”
His voice dipped lower, thick with disgust. “Your kind deserved to be slaughtered.”
Then, with a casual turn of his head, he addressed the room—Luffy, really. His voice rose, booming with theatrical cruelty. “And she’ll be sold to the highest bidder. Mark my words, there’s always someone willing to pay a kingdom for a siren."
That was it.
Something inside Y/N snapped.
A muffled sob tore from her throat, raw and broken. She began to thrash violently, all grace gone, nothing left but the naked desperation of a girl who knew exactly what was waiting for her if they took her.
Her eyes were wide, wild, brimming with tears as she kicked and struggled against the Fish-man’s hold. Her fists pounded uselessly against his chest, fingernails clawing at the arm pressed over her mouth, legs flailing as she bucked like something drowning.
Gods, no. No, no, no. Please, no. Not again. Not again.
The panic drowned everything else. The walls, the people, the voices—it all blurred.
She wasn’t in the Baratie anymore, she was there again.
With him.
The past surged up around her like a rising tide, inescapable and merciless. The pain. The blood. The cold cage that kept her like an animal. The sound of her own voice echoed in the dark, unanswered. Her wrists raw from the shackles. The silence between screams. And his face, the one that still haunted her even in the warmth of the sun.
She couldn’t breathe.
Couldn’t think.
The present melted away, and all she saw was the then. Her body locked up, trembling, helpless. She tried to will herself back—to claw her way out of it—but she was already drowning. Already gone.
Not again.
Please, her mind whispered. Not again.
And still, no one could reach her. The hand over her mouth, the grip around her arms, the jeering voices of the Fish-men—it all swam together, rising into a deafening roar.
A sharp crack of impact.
A jolt of pain. Stars burst behind her eyes as her head snapped sideways from the blow.
And everything went black but just before the world fell away, just before her knees buckled and her body sagged in the arms that held her, she heard it—fierce, furious, and burning with everything she couldn’t hold onto:
“Let. Her. GO!”
And then there was nothing.
Y/N:
Heyyyy. Thank you all so much for reading. I already have the next part done, and it was supposed to be an entire chapter from ep6 to 8 but the length was too much for Tumblr apparently. So, I will be posting it soon.
Also once again thank you all for reading, like seriously, thank you fro the support. <3<3<3<3<3<3
