stars on his skin (on indefinite hiatus)

gummi-monkey-archived-blog:

Send 🙈 for a drabble of when my muse has seen evil happening in front of them         (Accepting)

Set in AU With @pxrtgasdace (7 Year Age Gap)

Depending on who you asked, it was either very late or very early. It was dark, clouds heavy with rolling above and blocking the stars and sky, while the black oceans swelled like ink. Whitebeard’s Second Division was subdued and quiet. They were familiar with New World weather, held faith in their ship and eachother, and knew that typically, as they sailed through the eye of the storm, they would have a few hours of rest before needing to wrestle with the seas. So rest they did.

Luffy, however, was restless.

The 13 year old was familiar with insomnia, having wrestled with it ever since the traumatic events that lead up to his brother, Sabo, being stolen from them. He’d only been a toddler then, just old enough to remember fluffy blond hair, a contagious smile, and wide eyes that crinkled with joy or concern. Ace and he would talk about Sabo from time to time, refreshing their memories of their lost brother, and musing about how excited he would be to see where they were now. While Ace’s own sleeping problems developed into narcolepsy, Luffy was stuck in a strange cycle of ‘sleep when i’m tired and never more than 5 hours.’

Right now, he wasn’t tired.

So Luffy went fishing.

He knew that the fish didn’t like to bite during stormy weather, but also knew that if he did catch something, Thatch promised to cook it for him. It didn’t matter what time of day it was, how big or small the fish was, the 12th division cook would do something marvelous with the sea creature and give him a snack (or meal).

As he waited impatiently with his line in the water, Luffy watched and listened to the brewing storm around them. It wasn’t sleep, but it was calming, and it did help rest his mind. Maybe that’s why all the adults liked to do it.

After far too long, something bites his line, and with a cheer Luffy whips up his catch. It’s a decent sized fish, to his disappointment a bit normal looking, but it would make an amazing past midnight snack.

A fine drizzle hits the ship, wind hitting his face. He flips his Strawhat ontop of his head and tightens the cord with a nod before climbing to the upper deck. Thatch would be on watch right now, would be standing up top with an expectant, understanding grin and usher them both out of the brewing storm into the warm kitchen.

”Thatch!” The waking wind howls with a gale, drowning out his excited cry. The redhead is standing under an awning, back against a banister as he looks at his found devil fruit. He looks up at him, surprised, but soon grins and takes a step towards him.

The storm breaks.  A crash of thunder and a flash of lightning awaken the sleeping ship, but it would all be too late. A strike of shadowed movement from behind Thatch coincides with the flashing lights, the cooks’ mouth still forming a greeting as Luffy rounds into full view. The joy is gone from his eyes, fear and pain and confusion consuming him. A wet, gurgled sound is muted by the wind, his body arching in agony.

The devil fruit falls from his hand, rolls across the deck, and stops at Luffy’s feet.

Thatch’s mouth moves, forms words unspoken, as a knife is dragged upwards out of his back with a spray of blood. The man struggles for a moment, legs shaking and gaze sharp as he focuses on the youngest member, youngest brother, of Whitebeards crew.

 r u n...
Thatch’s face goes lax, and he falls to the deck. Behind him, mania in his eyes and grin, laughed another friend of Luffy’s, one who he looked up to just as much (if not more) than Thatch.

“…Teach?”

It doesn’t make sense. Teach was his friend. His crewmate. Family. Teach told him stories and shared his pie. Teach protected him, Teach played with him, Teach-

Teach had noticed him, his expression grim, and bloody knife still in hand.

“Sorry you had to see that, kid. “

The towering man discards his knife and strides towards him, walking around the growing pool of red. Luffy can’t breath. Can’t blink. Can’t comprehend.

A gale of wind hits just right, and his hat flies off. Blackbeard snatches it out of the air, glances between it and the boy, contemplative.

“You weren’t suppose to get involved.”

With a grin, the pirate places the strawhat back onto Luffy’s head, hand resting on his for a long moment.

“…but a man’s dream never dies.”

Luffy wails, but then his world goes dark.