(A/n)
I feel this is important to say with all the current events going on as of today; I had all this planned out long before the BLM movement grew and became as big as it is now. That being said, I saw connections between BLM and the theme of this chapter which means I won't be surprised if you guys do too. That was not intentional, this isn't a commentary on what's going on in life, it's more of a reflection on the One Piece world and how it's interesting how different species (fishmen) are treated. I love targeting important or touchy topics but I don't ever directly link them to actual identifiable situations in real life, I feel like that could cause some issues with some folks so I don't push those boundaries and start arguements. I didn't want anything misconstrued and I was debating not even adding this part but decided to add this blurb instead. Sorry this was kinda lengthy but thanks for reading <3

The ship set back out to sea and continued to cut through the waters as the day wore on. The deck was alive with the many pirates of the crew drinking and partying. If there were any other close by ships, they'd hear the music from yours without a doubt. Men practically shouted to each other to be heard over it and all around, everyone was in a fantastic mood, yourself included. 

It was difficult making yourself readjust to being human again but you were improving faster than you thought possible. Talking was still a challenge but the more you did it the more your voice sounded like your own. Sometimes it took more effort than you liked to form certain words, which frustrated you. At least none of the guys were worried about rushing you. You had all the time in the world to relearn how to talk properly again.

More than anything, walking on two legs was tiring and took a lot more coordination than walking on four. So you spent much of the time sitting with one group of men or another, only making yourself walk when you felt like you were getting stiff. Your hands were another obstacle. Paws were nowhere near as dexterous as hands and fingers were. It was taking some serious conscious effort to use your hands properly, but you were remembering how to do that pretty fast.

By the time night had set in and everyone was winding down, you had a decent grasp on yourself and were utterly exhausted. Some of the guys were done in by their drinking and collapsed to the floor, passed out. Others were well on their way to doing the same. Many of the guys you usually spent time with had huddled into groups around the ship's railing and were beginning to quiet down. Those that were still scattered about were in such a drunken stupor you doubted they'd remember much in the morning.  

That made now the best time to do what you wanted. 

Back on Manta, Carmelo had suggested Whitebeard's dislike for your kind. It had been nagging at you ever since and you had to know the details on that. You'd felt like he didn't quite treat you like the rest of the crew and it bothered you that it could have to do with your species. It was common for fishmen to be disliked and you wouldn't be all that surprised if the same applied to Druids. You were different and that scared some people. There wasn't a better time than now to clear things up with your captain.

You hopped down from your perch on a crate and tottered about for a moment before picking your way through the passed out men littering the deck to Whitebeard. He was leaning back in his normal seat, gazing out to the dark sea, looking for nothing in particular.

"Something still troubles you lass?" He asked quietly, to keep from waking the crew that slept nearby. 

"Yeah."

"About yourself?"

"Yes and no."

He focused on you with a soft, tired stare. "Go on lass."

You lowered yourself to the deck and crossed your legs in front of you before speaking. "On Manta….the Druid that helped us out said some things and I was hoping for some clarification on them."

He nodded, eyes drifting back to the waters.

"He had suggested that you don't really like Druids all that much."

And just like that, his eyes snapped back to you and the tired look he wore had slipped away. He was fully awake as his mouth twisted into a slight frown and he leaned forward.

"And you're worried I don't care for you based off of what one person said?"

"Well I-I-"

"Spit it out child."

"I just don't want to be part of a crew that hates me for what I am." You waited for him to come unglued at the statement but were completely caught off guard by what came instead.

"First off," His tone was demanding of your attention but it wasn't cruel. "this is not just a crew, it's a family. Every single person on this ship is a child of mine, regardless of species. I don't care what you are but I do care that you feel a part of this family. Secondly, while I don't have any problems with Druids, the Druids of Manta may be another case. I don't care for them because of their attitudes."

He gave you a few minutes to let that sink in. Everyone else did call him pops. He was like a father figure to them and in a way, he may be for you as well. It was hard to see him as such simply because you never had one in the past and it was something you'd never put much thought into. As for the Druids of Manta, you could understand that. Carmelo had come across as arrogant and conceited at first. He was full of himself and even if he proved he wasn't a terrible person, he still lacked the grace to treat you like any other normal person. If they all were like him, you couldn't blame Whitebeard for that. 

"Not all Druids are like them but they live a sheltered life on that island." Whitebeard continued. "They think themselves better than others because of the abilities they possess and the safety that their home provides. Those like you who've never spent a day of their life on that island are entirely different and as far as I've seen, much more respectable."

"So you don't hate my kind….but why do I feel like things between you and me aren't the same as between you and everyone else?" 

He chuckled lightly and swept an arm out to the many men along the deck. "Lass, while you aren't the first woman on this ship, you are the only to truly become a part of my family. I'm afraid I'm not accustomed to having a daughter."

You felt yourself blush madly. How stupid could you be? He was always surrounded by rowdy men. Sure there were guys like Izo, but though he chose to dress more femininely, he was still a man. He'd told you before in the past, he simply only enjoyed the garb and styles of women, he didn't want to be one per-se. Or as he'd put it more plainly; he was a cross-dresser. 

That being said, you were the only woman on this ship. Well, besides the nurses Marco kept around to watch Whitebeard's health that is. It made sense that he'd have a hard time figuring out how to work with you.

"Oh." That was all you could say. Things made sense now and you felt like you'd jumped to conclusions. Your tail swiped around nervously as you weren't quite sure what else you could say to fill in the silence.

"It's only right that I should apologize." You jumped when Whitebeard spoke up again. "Instead of explaining myself, I waited until you'd become worried. I'm sorry I made you doubt me (Y/n)."

"Its-"

"Why don't you spend some time with those two boys? They look like they could use your company, more so than this old man." Whitebeard pointed over to Thatch and Ace who were in the midst of drunkenly dancing to some tune only they could hear.

You sighed. He wasn't going to let you get another word in and the boys had caught sight of you looking in their direction. They were waving at you enthusiastically, doing their best not to spill their drinks. 

"Okay." You got up with some effort and smiled up at your captain. "Thanks for talking with me."

"Go on lass." He nodded and pushed you along with a single, huge hand.

"(Y/n)!" Ace yelled, startling a few nearby men awake.

They watched as you made your way to your friends on bare feet before promptly falling back asleep. You'd have to look into getting a pair of shoes later. 

"Did we tell you how cute you are like this (Y/n)?" Ace immediately placed his drink on the railing behind him to squish your cheeks together playfully.

"Multiple times." You answered, grabbing Ace's hands and moving them away. He was drunk off his ass so he'd get a free card for that.

"Want a drink? I haven't seen you with any alcohol tonight." Thatch offered you his own mug. 

He was much more sober than Ace. There was a light pink dusting his cheeks and neck, suggesting he was at the very least tipsy but he handled his alcohol much better than the younger male.

"Last time I drank I was chasing my own tail." You huffed at the embarrassing memory.

"And it was funny as hell." Thatch grinned, pushing his mug closer. 

You took it, rolling your eyes all the while. But you couldn't help it when you kept glancing up at the scar on his face. If Whitebeard was willing to apologize for something you thought he really didn't have to, maybe now would be a good time to apologize for something you should have some time ago.

"Thatch?" 

"What's up fangs?" He chuckled at his own cheesy joke, making Ace giggle along with him.

"I'm uh, sorry for trying to kill you before…..and cutting up your face."

Whitebeard made this look easy but it was far from it. You were burning with embarrassment and you couldn't tell if it was because of how shitty you felt for hurting him or from admitting your mistake.

At least while you struggled, Thatch had no problem finding a response. He pulled you into a tight hug, squeezing the air out of you and making the drink he gave you slosh around dangerously close to the lip of the mug. 

"You're so precious!" He continued to crush you in his delighted vice-like grip until you were gasping for air. When he finally released you, he held on to your shoulders and stooped down far enough to look you in the eye with a merry smile. "But it's no worry, I got over it pretty quick. Besides, women love scars, right? I've been a real lady killer since I got it."

Ace snickered. "You wish! They still avoid you like the plague."

"Do not!"

"You should watch next time we dock." Ace nudged you with an elbow. "Every time he starts coming on to some woman, they practically run for the hills."

"You are a little intimidating Thatch." You said with a shrug."

"How's that?"

"Well, you're super tall first off."

"Am not."

You giggled. "I think you are and you don't have the best idea of personal space."

He then started to notice how close he was to you, making you have to crane your neck to meet his eyes. In your wolf form, it wasn't as bad, but now you were going to have to get used to working extra hard to meet everyone's eyes. There wasn't really anyone smaller than you on the ship when you were like this.

"You may have a point there." He admitted with a sheepish grin. "But let's forget about that, you should be drinking!"

"Yeah! Why're we the only ones getting shit faced?" Ace agreed with him.

"Okay, okay! I'll drink some."

"Some?" They said in unison.

"Nah, I wanna see what you're like drunk without being furry." Thatch said while Ace nodded his head vehemently in agreement.

The night was just about done but these two were far from it. Whitebeard had to have known they would do something like this. When you sent a disapproving frown in his direction, the captain just chuckled. 

Yep. He knew. 

What a strange way to parent.