One Piece X Oc - Blog Posts

Today is my child's Birthday!!

It's very messy,, one day I'll redo it...maybe, also I might be moving to a new about because I want to focus more on drawing!

─ Anchored Hearts

✎ shanks x pearl

♦︎fic type: one-shot, fic-trade

♦︎ summary: through the motivation of their daughter Uta, Shanks and Pearl stop dancing around eachother and finally go on their long awaited date.

♦︎word count: 2.5k

♦︎warnings: None

♦︎a/n: this is another fic trade done with a friend, Pearl belongs to @frillsinadress ! I loved writing Pearl, she's a fun character and her relationship with Shanks is soo cute!

The soft hum of the sea carried a gentle breeze through the village, rustling leaves and tugging at colorful festival banners strung from building to building. The sky, a tapestry of fading oranges and deepening purples, signaled the start of the festival’s evening celebration. Among the crowd that gathered for the festivities, Pearl stood out like a rare gem washed ashore. Her powder blue hair cascaded down in soft waves, catching the last rays of sunlight, and her fair skin almost glowed in the twilight. Her posture was poised, refined; her serene smile framed by lips that spoke with a melody so smooth it could calm the fiercest storm.

Pearl had always carried herself with a regal grace, elegance embedded in every movement. She walked with an air of timeless confidence, speaking to everyone with the warmth of an old friend, even if they had just met. Yet beneath this public composure, there was a fire—something more opinionated, more raw, that only her closest companions ever witnessed.

This evening, that sharpness was dialed back. She was content, savoring the festival atmosphere, her eyes flickering across the twinkling lights and the sea of happy faces, but occasionally her gaze would drift to Shanks, standing nearby, his broad frame illuminated by the soft glow of lanterns. Uta, Shanks' daughter, was fluttering between them with barely contained excitement, her bright eyes glinting with mischief. At just eleven years old, Uta was already far too clever for her own good, and Pearl could see right through her little charade.

Still, she let Uta play her games. There was something charming in the girl’s attempts to set her father and Pearl up, even though Pearl and Shanks were already well aware of her intentions. Pearl smiled inwardly as Uta darted between villagers, whispering and plotting. The child wasn’t subtle, not in the slightest, but Pearl admired her spirit. The girl saw something between her and Shanks—something she desperately wanted to nurture, and Pearl wouldn't deny that she wanted that something to become more as well.

As for Shanks, he stood a few paces away, laughing with a few crewmates, his eyes always drawn back to Pearl as though pulled by an invisible thread. His gaze, warm and affectionate, made her feel more grounded than she had in years. She had sailed with many, walked through many villages, but there was something about being near Shanks that made her feel… safe, in a way she hadn't allowed herself to feel in a long time. The festivities ramped up around them, with villagers gathering to play games and share food, but Pearl remained calm, observing everything with an amused glint in her eyes. She knew what was coming next—Uta had made it so painfully obvious that Pearl couldn't help but chuckle under her breath. But, for the sake of the girl’s delight, she pretended ignorance.

"Mom, Mom!" Uta’s high-pitched voice cut through the noise of the festival, her small frame barreling toward her with a grin too wide to be innocent. "There’s this game I want you to try! I already told Dad." Shanks wandered over, grinning like the fool he was, hands resting casually in his pockets. "Looks like we’ve both been summoned." Pearl tilted her head, giving Shanks a knowing look that he returned with a playful wink. "I see. How could I refuse such a gracious invitation?" Uta led them toward a game booth, her energy infectious as she bounced ahead. Pearl followed at her own pace, moving with the deliberate elegance that came naturally to her. Every step purposeful, every glance measured. Shanks walked beside her, his presence comforting, though the tension between them simmered quietly beneath the surface.

As they approached the booth, Pearl noticed the game involved throwing rings onto the necks of bottles, a child’s game. Her lips twitched in amusement. "Don’t worry, Pearl," Shanks said, leaning slightly toward her. "I'll go easy on you." Pearl raised a delicate eyebrow, her smile widening into something more mischievous. "That won’t be necessary. But please, try not to cry when I win." Uta giggled from behind the counter, barely able to contain her excitement as the two adults bantered. They each took their rings, Shanks tossing his with an almost casual arrogance that missed entirely, causing Uta to burst into laughter. Pearl, on the other hand, measured her throw with precision, easily hooking the ring around the bottle’s neck. "I guess I’m no good at carnival games." Shanks scratched his head sheepishly, though the smile never left his face. "Looks like the mighty Red-Haired Shanks can’t handle a simple game of rings," Pearl teased, her voice lilting with amusement. There was an easiness between them that felt natural, as though they had been playing these games their whole lives.

As the night wore on, Pearl and Shanks found themselves moving through the festival together, whether playing more games, sampling the village’s cuisine, or watching local performances. All the while, Uta hovered nearby, orchestrating the events, no doubt pushing them closer and closer. When the fireworks finally lit up the night sky, painting the darkness with brilliant colors, Pearl stood at the edge of the village square, her eyes reflecting the dazzling display above. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” she asked, her voice low, almost as if she were speaking more to herself than to him. Shanks stood beside her, his usual playful demeanor softened into something quieter, more introspective.

“It is,” Shanks replied, though his eyes weren’t on the sky. Instead, they lingered on Pearls, who seemed to be lost in thought as they locked eyes. Her eyes were much softer, not like her usual calculating glances, her eyes held a calmness to them. A warmth, perhaps, that Shanks wasn’t used to seeing so openly from her, however, he was glad he could witness this warmth radiating from her. Uta reappeared at that moment, tugging at Pearl’s sleeve. “There’s one more thing!” she said excitedly. “I’ve planned a dinner for you and Dad—just the two of you! It’s by the beach, at sunset. I know you’ll love it!” Pearl exchanged a glance with Shanks, and they both smiled knowingly. Uta’s intentions had been clear from the beginning, but neither of them had the heart to spoil her fun. Besides, the idea of a quiet dinner with Shanks sounded… nice. More than nice, even.

Uta led them to a secluded spot near the edge of the village, where a small table was set up, illuminated by the soft glow of candlelight. Overhead, someone had hung a sprig of mistletoe, though it was the middle of spring, and Pearl couldn’t help but chuckle at the sight. “She really went all out,” Pearl said, shaking her head with fondness. Shanks grinned, pulling out a chair for her. “What can I say? Our girl’s got big dreams.” As they sat down, the last of the sun’s rays stretched across the horizon, casting a golden glow over the water. The moment felt almost surreal—too perfect, too calm for the life they led. But Pearl wasn’t one to question such things. She leaned into the peacefulness, allowing herself to enjoy the low hum of the evening.

"So,” Pearl began, leaning forward slightly, her voice smooth as she rested her chin on her hand, her hat casting a soft shadow over her face; Shanks' heart skipped at the sight of her ethereal smile. “You’ve been rather quiet about your intentions tonight. Was this really all Uta’s doing, or did you have a hand in it?” Shanks grinned, his eyes glinting with amusement. “I’ll admit, I didn’t stop her from making plans. But you can’t blame me for wanting to spend more time with you, can you?” Pearl raised an eyebrow, her lips curving into a teasing smile. “Oh, so now the truth comes out. You’re the one behind this elaborate setup.” Shanks chuckled, shaking his head. “I wouldn’t go that far. But if Uta wants to give me a little nudge, who am I to stop her?” Pearl leaned back in her chair, her purple eyes gleaming with playful challenge. “And what exactly do you plan to do with this ‘nudge,’ Red-Hair?”

Shanks met her gaze, his smile softening as he leaned forward, his voice low and teasing. “Well, I was thinking I’d make the most of it.” Pearl tilted her head, her smile coy. “Oh? And how do you plan to do that?” Shanks’ grin widened, his voice taking on a more flirtatious tone. “I suppose that depends on how much you’re willing to let me.” Pearl’s laughter bubbled up again, her eyes dancing with amusement. “You’re bold, I’ll give you that.” “And you like it,” Shanks replied, his tone playful yet confident. Pearl’s smirk grew as she took a sip of her water, her gaze never leaving his. “Perhaps.”

Throughout the evening they continued their playful banter and light flirting, unable to ignore the warmth growing on their cheeks from each compliment. They happily enjoyed eachother's presence and attention but as a bundle of mistletoe dangled above them, catching Pearl’s eye once again, she found herself laughing. “What?” Shanks asked, though he was already smiling in that disarmingly charming way of his. “Uta really has an eye for detail,” Pearl said, gesturing to the mistletoe. “A bit out of season, don’t you think?” Shanks looked up, his grin widening as he took in the scene. “Yeah, but I think we should play along, don’t you?” Pearl felt her heart skip a beat, though she kept her composure as she met his gaze. “Oh, so now you’re a stickler for tradition?”

“Only when it suits me,” Shanks replied, his voice dropping to a more serious tone, his eyes never leaving hers. For a moment, the world around them seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of them in this small bubble of time. Shanks leaned in first, closing the distance between them with an easy confidence, but Pearl was the one who closed her eyes and met him halfway. Their lips brushed softly, the kiss tender and unhurried, as though they had all the time in the world. The world around them seemed to fall away as their lips connected, Pearl's mind spinning from the warmth of his mouth. She could taste the faint hint of sea salt on him, mixed with a surprising sweetness, like cherries. It was a little unexpected—rough around the edges, but with an undeniable softness that made her heart skip a beat.

Shanks, on the other hand, was lost in the feel of her lips. They were softer than he had imagined, even in his wildest daydreams. He’d been waiting for this—longer than he cared to admit—and now that it was happening, it felt better than he’d ever thought it could. Her lips moved against his with a grace that left him breathless, her warmth sinking into him with every second that passed. He kept it gentle, slower than the rush of the moment might have urged him to, savoring every bit of it. To his surprise, she kissed him back with just as much restraint, a tenderness he hadn’t expected. For someone so strong and confident, Pearl let herself melt into the kiss, and Shanks reveled in the sensation. His thumb lightly brushed her cheek as his other hand rested on the small of her back, pulling her just a bit closer. It wasn’t an overpowering gesture, but rather one of reassurance, as if to say he was there, holding her as carefully as he could.

Pearl, for her part, felt her pulse quicken. Despite the intensity of the moment, there was a certain gentleness in the way Shanks held her, in the way his lips moved slowly and deliberately against hers. She appreciated it—the care, the tenderness. It made her feel like he wasn’t just indulging in a moment of passion, but rather savoring her, treating her like she was something precious.

When they finally broke apart, Pearl’s eyes fluttered open, her breath still caught somewhere in her chest. Their gazes locked, and for a moment, neither of them said anything. Shanks’ boyish smirk had softened, the usual mischief replaced with something far more sincere. His eyes, though still twinkling with that familiar playful spark, now held a softness she hadn’t seen before. Pearl’s lips curled into a light giggle, unable to help herself as she watched him. There was something disarming about seeing this side of him—something that made her chest tighten in a way she hadn’t expected. Shanks grinned at the sound of her laughter, his arms pulling her just a little closer, as if afraid to let go. Without missing a beat, he leaned in again, this time pressing a series of small, affectionate kisses along her cheek. Each one was quick, playful, but there was a tenderness behind every peck that made Pearl’s heart flutter.

“You’re really laying it on thick, Captain,” Pearl teased, her voice light and amused, though she made no effort to pull away. Shanks chuckled against her skin, his breath warm as he continued to press more kisses along her cheek, pausing only to murmur, “Can’t help it. I’ve got a lot to make up for.” Pearl laughed again, the sound soft and almost shy, as she felt his lips brush against her skin repeatedly, leaving trails of warmth wherever he kissed her. There was something so endearing about the way he did it—his typical confidence replaced by an almost boyish eagerness. And yet, it didn’t feel rushed or overbearing. It felt… sweet. Like he was savoring every little moment with her.

Just as Shanks was about to place another kiss near the corner of her mouth, a small, familiar voice interrupted them from the shadows. Uta’s head popped up from behind a nearby bush, her eyes wide with curiosity. “Did it work?” she asked, her voice full of hope. Pearl and Shanks both burst into laughter, beckoning Uta over to join them at the table. “Yes, it worked,” Pearl said, her voice full of warmth as she pulled Uta into a hug. “You’ve done well.” Uta beamed with pride as she slid into the seat between them, looking between her father and Pearl with wide, excited eyes. “Are you happy?” Pearl smiled, her heart full as she exchanged a look with Shanks. “Yes,” she said softly, “very happy.” And as the three of them sat together, continuing their meal with the new addition, under the fading light of the sunset, Pearl felt a contentment she hadn’t known she needed.

The festival continued around them, with laughter and music floating on the air, but in this small corner of the world, everything felt still, peaceful. Pearl glanced at Shanks once more, catching the way his eyes softened when he looked at Uta, then at her. She hadn’t realized until now how much she’d been craving this—a sense of belonging, of family. The evening stretched on, and they lingered at the table long after the food had been eaten, lost in conversation. Uta’s presence only added to the warmth of the night, her innocent questions and bubbly personality making both adults laugh. And as the stars shimmered above them, casting a gentle glow over the quiet village, Pearl knew that this was just the beginning of something new. Something real. Something that, for once, felt like it could last.

− Finer than Wine

✎mihawk x kelton

♦︎fic type: one-shot, fic-trade

♦︎ summary: after three failed attempts at taking mihawk on a date, kelton finally manages to get mihawk on a date. with the intention to show mihawk that he's serious about his feeling.

♦︎word count: 2.3k

♦︎warnings: None

♦︎a/n: this is part of a fic trade done with @loganwritesprobably, As you can see I kinda carried away but I'm really proud of this, I hope I did Kelton justice and I hope you enjoy it all the same!

The wine-red sky stretched over the horizon, casting a warm, molten glow on the vast ocean below. The waves lapped gently at the sides of the boat, a modest but elegant vessel with polished wood and billowing sails. Kelton stood at the bow, his black hair tousled by the salty breeze, a glint of gold piercing catching the fading light. His mischievous brown eyes scanned the horizon as he hummed a tune under his breath, his tall frame leaning casually against the railing.

Kelton was a man of many talents, but patience was rarely one of them. Yet, tonight was different. Tonight, he had every reason to wait. The air was thick with anticipation, a subtle excitement thrumming in his veins. The boat rocked gently as he adjusted his stance, glancing back toward the cabin where Mihawk was likely brooding, perhaps contemplating the wisdom of agreeing to this outing.

A sly grin tugged at the corners of Kelton’s mouth. He’d finally done it. After three failed attempts, Dracule Mihawk, the most feared swordsman in all the seas, had agreed to a date. And not just any date—Kelton had meticulously planned an evening that even the stoic Mihawk might find difficult to resist.

As if on cue, Mihawk emerged from the cabin, his expression as unreadable as ever. His piercing yellow eyes locked onto Kelton’s warm brown ones, and for a moment, the world seemed to stand still. Kelton could feel the weight of that gaze, the scrutiny that would unnerve any lesser man. But Kelton was no ordinary man. “Enjoying the view?” Mihawk’s voice was smooth, carrying a hint of dry amusement.

Kelton’s grin widened. “Only half as much as I’m about to enjoy our little adventure, love.” He pushed off the railing with a fluid motion, sauntering over to Mihawk with the easy confidence of a man who was rarely, if ever, denied what he wanted. Mihawk raised a single eyebrow, clearly unimpressed by Kelton’s swagger. “You speak as though this evening holds more than just an outing.”

“Oh, it holds much more, indeed,” Kelton quipped, his voice dripping with playful innuendo. He circled Mihawk slowly, his movements deliberate, as if sizing up his prey. “But I wouldn’t dream of ruining the surprise. After all, where’s the fun in that?” Mihawk’s gaze remained steady, though there was a flicker of something in his eyes—curiosity, perhaps, or mild irritation.

The island Kelton chose was nothing short of breathtaking. A hidden gem nestled within the Grand Line, it was renowned for its picturesque landscapes and sunsets that could make even the most hardened hearts falter. It was a place of serenity, where the chaos of the world seemed to pause, allowing nature's beauty to take center stage. As you step off the ship and onto the soft sand, the air is filled with the scent of saltwater and blooming flowers, carried by the gentle breeze that whispers through the towering palms.

Kelton, with his usual swagger, leads the way, his long strides making it almost impossible for anyone of average height to keep up, let alone Mihawk. Yet, the swordsman moves with his signature grace, his eyes observing every detail of their surroundings with a calm, discerning gaze. The vibrant greenery, the distant hum of wildlife, and the sound of waves gently lapping against the shore all contribute to an ambiance that feels almost too perfect. It’s a place out of time, a retreat from the battles and skirmishes that define their lives. "Lovely, isn't it?" Kelton remarks, glancing back at Mihawk with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. His voice carries a playful lilt, as though he’s well aware of the grandeur of his choice. "Figured you could use a bit of a break from all the sword-slashing and brooding."

Mihawk, ever the stoic, merely raises an eyebrow in response, though there’s a slight softening in his usual stern expression. “It’s… suitable.” Kelton chuckles, clearly amused by the understatement. “Suitable? Darling, it’s a slice of paradise. Just wait until you see where I’ve set us up.”

They move deeper into the island, the dense foliage parting to reveal a pathway lined with lanterns that flicker softly in the dimming light. Kelton had taken his time setting up the path, carefully selecting each lantern to create a warm, inviting glow as the sun began its descent towards the horizon. He was no stranger to adventure and chaos, but when it came to moments like these, he knew the importance of setting the right atmosphere. As they near the spot Kelton has prepared, the path opens up to a secluded clearing. Here, the grass is soft underfoot, and a large, plush blanket is spread out, accompanied by an array of cushions. Nearby, a small table is set up, adorned with an assortment of wines, including the rare and expensive bottle Kelton had promised. A few plates of delicately prepared food, a nod to Mihawk's refined palate, are arranged with care.

The scene is framed by the ocean, which glitters with the last rays of sunlight, casting hues of pink, orange, and gold across the water. The sky above them is a masterpiece, the colors swirling together in a way that seems almost surreal. Kelton turns to Mihawk with a grin, spreading his arms wide as if presenting the world’s greatest treasure. “Not bad, eh? Thought we could enjoy the sunset, have a few drinks, and just… unwind. No swords, no pirates, just us and the view." Mihawk takes in the sight, the corner of his mouth twitching ever so slightly—a rare sign of approval. "You certainly know how to make an effort."

"Only for the best," Kelton replies smoothly, moving closer to the swordsman. "Shall we?" He gestures towards the blanket, his voice softer, yet still carrying that underlying note of mischief. Mihawk nods, and together, they step into the tranquil space, leaving the world behind for a moment of peace between eachother. “You’ve gone through a great deal of trouble for this,” Mihawk observed, his tone neither approving nor disapproving, simply factual. Kelton stopped in front of Mihawk, their eyes locking despite the steady difference in height. “Well, when one is courting the world’s greatest swordsman, one must be prepared to go the extra mile.” His voice softened, the teasing edge giving way to something more sincere. “I wanted tonight to be special.” Kelton gestured toward the small table he'd set up, where a selection of rare wines awaited. The centerpiece was a bottle of vintage so rare that even Mihawk, with his discerning taste, had mentioned it in passing. It had taken Kelton months of searching and no small amount of favors to procure it, but the look on Mihawk’s face when he’d seen it had made every effort worth it.

Mihawk inclined his head slightly, a gesture of acknowledgment if not full approval, and moved toward the table. Kelton followed, his gaze lingering on the swordsman’s graceful movements. Even in something as mundane as walking, Mihawk exuded a quiet, lethal elegance. It was no wonder Kelton was smitten. As they took their seats, Kelton uncorked the prized bottle, the sound of the pop satisfying in its own right. He poured them each a glass, the wine’s rich aroma filling the air between them. Mihawk took his glass, swirling the wine with practiced ease before bringing it to his lips. Kelton watched intently, noting the way Mihawk’s eyes closed briefly as he savored the taste.

“Well?” Kelton asked, leaning forward slightly, eager for Mihawk’s verdict. Mihawk opened his eyes, his gaze locking onto Kelton’s once more. “It’s exceptional,” he admitted, his tone begrudgingly appreciative. Kelton couldn’t help the triumphant smile that spread across his face. “I knew you’d like it. Only the best for you, of course.” Mihawk regarded him with a level look. “You put in considerable effort for this. Why?” Kelton’s smile faltered slightly, the question catching him off guard. He’d expected Mihawk to be more guarded, more evasive. But here was the swordsman, asking a direct question that required a direct answer.

Kelton leaned back in his chair, considering his words carefully. “Because you’re worth it,” he said finally, the playful lilt in his voice gone. “Because I wanted to do something for you—something that showed you I’m not just interested in a fling.” Mihawk studied him for a long moment, his gaze piercing. “You’ve made your intentions clear before,” he said slowly. “Why now?” Kelton met his gaze without flinching. “Because I think you’re starting to realize that I’m serious.”

A silence stretched between them, not uncomfortable but laden with unspoken thoughts. Kelton wasn’t sure if Mihawk would respond or if he’d retreat into that impenetrable shell of his, but he held his ground, refusing to look away. Finally, Mihawk set his glass down with deliberate care. “You’re relentless,” he remarked, though there was no venom in his tone. Kelton chuckled, the tension breaking slightly. “It’s one of my more charming qualities.”Mihawk didn’t smile, but there was a softness in his expression that hadn’t been there before. “I’ll admit, your persistence is…unexpected.”

“Unexpected, but not unwelcome, I hope?” Kelton ventured, his voice hopeful. Mihawk regarded him for a moment longer, then gave a slight nod. “Not unwelcome.” Kelton’s heart leapt, but he kept his excitement in check, not wanting to push too far too fast. He leaned forward, lowering his voice conspiratorially. “So, tell me, Mihawk—what would it take for you to consider this date a success?”Mihawk picked up his glass again, taking a slow sip before responding. “A success?” He seemed to mull over the question, his eyes narrowing thoughtfully. “That depends.”

“On what?” Kelton prompted, eager to hear the answer. Mihawk set his glass down again, his gaze fixed on Kelton with an intensity that sent a shiver down the taller man’s spine. “On whether you can keep me interested for the remainder of the evening.” Kelton grinned, his confidence returning in full force. “Oh, I can do much more than that, love. Just you wait and see.”

The rest of the evening passed in a blur of conversation and wine, the tension between them ebbing and flowing like the tide. Kelton was in his element, weaving stories and jokes with the ease of a seasoned entertainer, all while keeping a careful eye on Mihawk’s reactions. To his delight, Mihawk seemed more relaxed than Kelton had ever seen him, the sharp edges of his usual demeanor softened by the wine and the ambiance.

As the moon climbed higher in the sky, casting a silvery light over the deck, Kelton found himself growing bolder. The wine had loosened his tongue, and he leaned closer to Mihawk, his voice dropping to a low, intimate murmur. “You know, Mihawk,” he began, his words slow and deliberate, “I think there’s something you’re not telling me.” Mihawk raised an eyebrow, his gaze wary. “And what might that be?”

Kelton’s lips curved into a teasing smile. “That you’re enjoying this far more than you expected.” Mihawk didn’t respond immediately, his eyes narrowing slightly as if weighing his next words. Finally, he said, “You assume much.” Kelton’s grin widened. “I prefer to think of it as being perceptive.” Mihawk’s expression remained unreadable, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes—something that made Kelton’s heart skip a beat. Without thinking, Kelton reached out, his hand brushing against Mihawk’s, the touch light but deliberate.

Mihawk didn’t pull away, but his gaze dropped to their hands, his expression inscrutable. Kelton’s heart pounded in his chest, a mix of excitement and nervousness churning in his stomach. “Mihawk,” Kelton said softly, his voice barely more than a whisper. “I—” Before he could finish, Mihawk leaned forward, his movements swift and precise. Kelton barely had time to register what was happening before Mihawk’s lips were on his, the kiss firm and unyielding.

For a moment, Kelton was too stunned to react. This was Mihawk—Dracule Mihawk—kissing him. But the shock quickly gave way to something else, something warm and all-consuming, and Kelton found himself kissing back with equal fervor. The kiss was electric, a jolt of energy that seemed to ignite every nerve in Kelton’s body. He reached out instinctively, his hands gripping Mihawk’s waist as he pulled the swordsman closer. The world around them seemed to disappear, the only thing that mattered was the feel of Mihawk’s lips against his, the taste of wine lingering on his tongue. Mihawk’s hands were steady, one resting on Kelton’s arm, the other at his waist, grounding him in the moment. There was a surprising tenderness in the way Mihawk kissed him—controlled, but not without feeling. It wasn’t the desperate, heated kiss of someone losing themselves in passion, but something deeper, more intentional.

When they finally broke apart, both were breathless, the air between them thick with unspoken words. Kelton stared at Mihawk, his mind racing to catch up with what had just happened. “You kissed me,” Kelton said, the words tumbling out in a dazed murmur, a hint of disbelief in his tone. Mihawk’s expression remained calm, but there was a softness in his eyes that Kelton had never seen before. “You kissed me back,” Mihawk replied, his voice steady, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

Kelton couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled up from his chest, a sound filled with both joy and relief. “Aye, that I did,” he admitted, a roguish grin spreading across his face. “And I don’t regret a single second of it.” Mihawk’s gaze didn’t waver, but Kelton could see the faintest hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Nor do I,” Mihawk said quietly, the admission hanging in the air between them, weighty and significant. Kelton’s heart swelled, the words sinking in, making him feel lighter than he had in ages. He’d always known there was something more to Mihawk than the cold, aloof exterior he showed to the world. But hearing those words—knowing that Mihawk didn’t regret this—made it all the more real.

“Mihawk,” Kelton began, his voice steady, “I meant what I said earlier. This—tonight—it’s not just about a fling. I want to be with you, not just for tonight, but for as long as you’ll have me.” Mihawk’s gaze bore into Kelton’s, the weight of his words sinking in. For a moment, Kelton thought Mihawk might pull away, might retreat into that stoic shell he was so known for. But instead, Mihawk stepped closer, his hand tightening around Kelton’s.

“You’re a fool,” Mihawk said quietly, his voice tinged with something that could almost be mistaken for fondness. Kelton chuckled, the sound low and warm. “Aye, that I am. But I’m your fool, if you’ll have me.” Mihawk’s lips curved into the faintest of smiles, and for the first time, Kelton saw the walls around Mihawk’s heart begin to crack. “Then it seems we’re both fools.” Before Kelton could respond, Mihawk closed the distance between them, capturing Kelton’s lips in another kiss. This one was slower, more deliberate, a kiss that spoke of promises made and a future uncertain but filled with possibilities.

Kelton kissed back with all the passion and sincerity he could muster, his heart soaring as Mihawk’s arms wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer. There was no more doubt, no more hesitation—just the two of them, together in that moment, and the unspoken understanding that this was just the beginning of something wonderful.

When they finally parted, Kelton rested his forehead against Mihawk’s, a contented sigh escaping his lips. “So,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, “does this mean our date was a success?” Mihawk’s eyes sparkled with something akin to amusement. “It means you’ve intrigued me, Kelton. But don’t think for a moment that you’ve won me just yet." Kelton’s laughter was soft, a low rumble that resonated between them. “Wouldn’t dream of it, love. The chase is half the fun, after all." Mihawk’s expression softened, a rare warmth in his usually impassive gaze. “Then you’ll have to keep up, Kelton. I’m not easily caught.” Kelton’s grin widened, his brown eyes glinting with mischief. “Challenge accepted, Mihawk. But be warned—I’m a man who never gives up on what he wants.” Mihawk didn’t reply immediately, but the look in his eyes said everything. There was a mutual understanding, a silent agreement that they were both stepping into uncharted waters. Whatever lay ahead, it wouldn’t be easy. But neither of them wanted easy. They craved the thrill, the challenge—the chance to carve something lasting out of the unpredictable life they led.

For a moment, they simply stood there, the world around them forgotten. The wind tousled Kelton’s noir-black hair, and Mihawk’s grip on his waist tightened slightly, as if anchoring them both to this moment. The stars above glittered like silent witnesses to the promise they’d made, each twinkling light reflecting the hope of something more. Kelton finally broke the silence, his voice a whisper of sincerity. “I’ll win you over, Mihawk. It’s only a matter of time.” Mihawk’s lips quirked into the faintest of smiles. “We’ll see, Kelton. But know this—no one has ever succeeded where you intend to go.” Kelton’s eyes shone with determination as he leaned in close, his breath warm against Mihawk’s ear. “There’s a first time for everything, love. And I plan to make sure this is a first you won’t forget.”

Want to write about my Ocs in headcanons x my comfort chara but don't have the time nor the energy for the moment + a little bit worried if someone steal them even i don't put any drawings...

UwU, my heart 🫶 cannot take this level of sweetness I'm seein'

sashii my love! this event is so cute omg may i have day 12 + chocolate with Ace, please? Fem! or GN! reader is fine 🥺 thank you so much, bby i love youu ❤️

Hi my lovely Lari!!! So here I am with this little scenario of the freckled sunshine for you! 💖 I hope you enjoy and have a wonderful holiday season!! (despite the blazing hot summer that we have to endure 😂). Love you lots! 💖

Chocolate Portgas D. Ace x F! Reader Day 12: I'm Sorry I burnt the dinner ~

tw: none. some red eyes perhaps. based on Ace's favorite food being ghost pepper spaghetti. Peperoncini is the Italian term for ghost peppers, aglio e olio is the Italian term for garlic and oil. The image I chose for the banner was specifically chosen cause I wanted to portrait Ace's face while he looks at reader (I know he was looking at Sanji, but we are not here to discuss Ace's likings, at least not rn hahah)

wc: 828

“She is so pretty… she is working hard to cook an amazing meal, what did I do to deserve such an amazing lover?” Ace thinks, while resting her chin over his hand. He looks at her with eyes of pure love, of pure adoration. He, Ace, never thought of someone loving him, less taking care of him, or even spending Christmas with him.

But there she is, making him his favorite food for dinner…

You read a little diary Garp-san said it was Ace’s mom’s. She had written the recipe for “ghost pepper spaghetti” there and even if Ace never tasted hers, for some reason that exact same dish turned out to be his favorite. And you sweat, what if you do it wrong? it’s gonna be the first time he tastes your cooking, cause after all you’ve never been good with it. Not even Sanji-kun’s tips were able to help you. Ace never cared, but you did.

Several pots were already on the stove, boiling water for the noodles, a frying pan ready for you to sauté the aglio e olio and the peperoncini resting right over the cooking table to be cut in halves. All according to Rouge annotations. And it didn’t seem so difficult, yet you realize there is a missing ingredient over the table; parsley.

“What an idiot” you mumble, taking your hand to your forehead. “What’s wrong babe? Do you need help?” Ace immediately asks from the table. You asked him not to come closer since this was going to be a surprise for him. “Oh no, nothing darling! It’s ok! Go sit in the dining room, food is about to be ready!” you act as everything was alright, and indeed it was, but you pressure yourself a lot when doing this…. after all, what if Rouge is looking at you from the sky, facepalming at your incompetence?...

You quickly run to the pantry for the damn parsley, because everybody has it in their houses, right? “It’s like a common spices, come on” you whisper, while looking for the damn little jar that has that name on a tag. “What does it even look like?” you mumble, at this point hysterical.

And all of a sudden a certain smell comes wafting to your nose…

“FUCK! THE HEAT!!” you shout, running to the remains of a ghost pepper sauce that more than red now looks carbon black. You throw the pan to the kitchen sink to cool off the stupid pot and take your hands to your face. Instant tears sprout from your eyes. “I’m an idiot” once again, you mumble.

Ace comes to the rescue, “What’s wrong baby?” he asks, hugging you tight from behind. “I’m a failure” you say, in between sobbing. “What? You aren’t! You are my perfect love, don’t ever say that!” he tells you, kissing your head and slowly turning you around.

You rest over his chest, without taking your hands off your face, but enjoying his warm embrace. “I can’t even cook this; I tell you I am” you mumble. “Listen, I don’t even know what parsley looks like, don’t worry” he says, poor man, he was trying to help you out, but made it worse. “WHAT IS IT ABOUT THE DAMN PARSLEY?” you grunt and rub your eyes to wipe your tears away.

But… Do you remember rule number one when cooking with peppers that Sanji told you? “Name-swan, remember to use gloves or be extra careful if you cut ghost peppers barehand, do not take your hands to your eyes or they will burn”

You begin to squirm, to jump and soon run to the sink. “AHHHH MY EYES!!!” “WHAT BABY, WHAT???” “MY EYES, BURN!!! THE FUCKING PEPPERS!!!”...

Some hours later…

“Make some space, baby!” Ace tells you while bringing the Big Macs you ordered with a big smile, as bright as the sun and those freckles like a starry sky. He places the tray over the table, and hands you your order. Outside it’s snowing heavily, and the lights from the streets blink in between the snowflakes. The fast-food restaurant isn’t packed at all on Christmas eve, but there are some more people enjoying some burgers. Your eyes, a little red still, with no makeup, reflect over the windows of the place. Ace sits next to you, and jokes about putting some hot sauce on his burger.

“I’m sorry I burnt the dinner” you tell him, still sad. “It was your mom’s recipe”. “Don’t be sorry, my love. What about us trying to cook it again tomorrow? Together?” he tells you, with one of his cheeks puffed by the food. “But I fucked up, look… we are eating on a Mc Donald’s on Christmas eve”. “It doesn’t matter where, it doesn’t matter what I eat… the only thing that matters is to be right next to you” Ace says, kissing your forehead.

“Merry Christmas, baby. I love you” “Merry Christmas, Ace. I love you too”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ~ ❤ ~

💫Ka-ka-KAWAII💫

Marrow the brook fangirl💗✨💀 I frickin love her so much😭😭😭

Also her name isn’t actually Marrow but it isss now😂 (also I got it from a moot on twitter so yeee)

Where were you? I didn't know you existed.

Hello, I'll be your new follower. You have wonderful stories.

but I would like to request one please

Gol D. Ann oh Portgas D Anne oh simply Anne the younger blood sister of Ace Portgas and sworn sister of Luffy and Sabo

Unlike her siblings, she followed the path of her adoptive grandfather Garp and became a marine. Against all odds, with the help of Garp, who hid his identity. But she was assigned as a pupil of Admiral Akainu, who trained her severely (unaware that she was the daughter and sister of two pirates). With her great talent, and as Akainu's pupil, the young woman rose rapidly within the Navy, rising to the rank of Rear Admiral of the Fleet.

Nobody knew that the young woman they believed to be loyal to the navy fell into the clutches of love, and none other than a pirate, and not just any pirate, but one who is a friend of her brother, Marco the Phoenix.

After her brother Ace was captured by the Navy, her grandfather forbade her from visiting him in the jungles. He even somehow arranged for her to be assigned a special mission so she wouldn't participate in the execution. Or rather, so she wouldn't intervene, since Garp knew her well.

When Akainu attacked Luffy and Ace stepped in. A small figure wrapped in a large white cloak Was wearing a clown mask Stayed in the middle with a Haki-filled sword between Akainu's sword arm and Ace's back She was able to briefly stop the enormous blow of power, using everything she had and managed to knock Akainu back a couple of steps But sacrificing her swords and mask The boys, upon seeing who it was, froze when they recognized her Ace An Luffy sister Anne didn't say anything, her eyes were on Akainu, she knew he shouldn't let his guard down Although he also seemed somewhat confused As did the other pirates nearby and a certain blond man who was covering his face with his hand Anne, idiot, that's a terrible way to block it, you almost ruined everything. You still haven't learned Haki by looking at his brothers. Approaching and kicking them hard, they landed right in Jimbe's arms. That's your way out, Sea Knight Jimbe. No, wait, Anne, the boys shouted as Jimbe started running again.

Akainu looked at the young woman, disappointed. While Anne wiped a trickle of blood from the corner of her lips, The traitorous Akainu prepared to attack Anne, but before that, Whitebeard attacked him. Anne's hands were still shaking from holding the swords so tightly. She gave up on the rest, feeling dizzy. But before she could fall, Marco held her.

Marco Anne, idiot Anne, calm down, it's fine. Order the retreat. Then you'll discipline me, looking at her lover with a smile.

Please excuse me for bothering you. I'm sure you can make something of that information and create a great story that humiliates Akainu, saves Ace, and makes Anne and Marco fall in love. I can give you a little gift if you want

thank u for the compliments! im glad u like my works, also thank u and no need for gifts but i appreciate it either way! <3 here u go! its not well written but, i hope u like it! 😅

Where the Fire Lives

In the chaos of Marineford, Anne risks everything — her life, her duty, her heart — to save the brothers she swore to protect.

Marco the phoenix x female oc

tags: slight angst, soft, sfw, ooc, near-death experience, platonic bonds, hidden identity, happy ending, oc, bl00d/v!olence

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

word count: 3.3k

masterlist | ko-fi

: 𓏲🐋 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖✩࿐࿔ 🌊

The sun was merciless in Marineford as Rear Admiral Anne stood at perfect attention, her fists behind her back, posture drilled into her over years of Akainu's brutal training. Her dark navy coat fluttered slightly in the sea breeze, the crimson sash at her waist marking her as a Rear Admiral. Her name—simply "Anne"—was carved into the records of the Marines as one of its youngest rising stars, a combat prodigy in the mold of Garp the Hero.

Everyone knew she was Garp’s adoptive granddaughter. But no one knew she was the daughter of Gol D. Roger, or the blood sister of Portgas D. Ace. And only a precious few knew that when she vanished from Marineford for a week every few months, she was disappearing into the arms of Marco the Phoenix.

“Rear Admiral Anne,” came a sharp voice behind her.

She didn’t need to turn to know it was Sakazuki—Admiral Akainu.

“Reporting, Admiral,” she answered smoothly.

“You’ve been assigned to eliminate the remnants of the Valkor Pirates in West Blue,” Akainu growled, his boots echoing on the stone dock. “I want their ship sunk. No survivors.”

Anne internally winced, knowing Capone Valkor’s crew was more bark than bite these days. But she nodded. “Understood, Admiral.”

Akainu narrowed his eyes at her. “Don’t disappoint me, girl.”

She didn’t flinch. “I never do.”

“Anne!”

She barely dodged the flaming cannonball that tore through the mast behind her.

“Geez, Valkor’s boys are still this reckless?” she muttered, haki flaring around her fists.

In under five minutes, she dispatched the entire crew—most of whom leapt overboard after she shattered the deck with a single haki-charged stomp.

A call came through her Den Den Mushi as she stood triumphantly among the wreckage. “Mission complete. All enemies neutralized.”

“Very good, Rear Admiral~” came the smooth, amused voice of Borsalino—Admiral Kizaru. “Though you might’ve left a few more survivors. Paperwork, you know.”

“I’ll bring you souvenirs next time,” Anne deadpanned.

A week later, Anne was standing under the starlight of Sabaody Archipelago, pretending to look out over the ocean. But she wasn’t waiting for the view. She was waiting for him.

“You’re late,” she said as a blue flame flickered into existence behind her.

Marco emerged in full phoenix mode before shifting into his human form, brushing off his coat with a sheepish grin. “I’m technically a pirate. Time management isn’t our strong suit-yoi”

Anne turned to face him. “You’re lucky you’re handsome.”

“You’re lucky I like Marines with secrets-yoi” Marco shot back.

She smirked. “Careful, Marco. If Akainu ever finds out I’m dating a pirate, he’ll turn me into a lava puddle.”

He kissed her forehead. “He’d have to get through me first-yoi”

They didn’t talk about the danger of their affair. About how, if her identity as Gol D. Roger’s daughter came to light, the world would shatter.

Two months later, Anne was aboard a Marine ship tracking pirate movements in the New World.

“Rear Admiral,” a young Ensign called. “Reports indicate Portgas D. Ace was spotted with Whitebeard’s crew nearby.”

Anne tensed, then forced a casual shrug. “We’ll move in. Be cautious.”

As they neared the island, she took point, moving ahead of her men. The moment she landed, a burst of fire greeted her.

“I was wondering when the Marines would show up,” Ace called from a cliff.

Anne smirked. “You’re not as impressive in person as your bounty poster.”

Ace blinked. “Excuse me?”

“Portgas D. Ace. 550 million berries. Famous for being reckless and wearing the same shorts in every poster.”

Ace gawked. “Anne, it’s me! You’re seriously pretending we don’t know each other?”

She gave him a warning glare. “Keep your voice down, idiot.”

From behind a boulder, Marco peeked out with a choked laugh.

“Wait,” Ace whispered harshly, realizing. “You’re… oh no. You’re the Rear Admiral who Marco’s been sneaking off to see?”

Anne just crossed her arms, utterly unimpressed. “Congratulations. You’ve blown three secrets in ten seconds.”

Whitebeard’s laughter could be heard from the distance. “I like this girl. Smart and terrifying.”

Ace tried to recover, pointing dramatically at her. “She’s not that scary!”

Anne kicked him in the stomach.

He landed on Marco, groaning. “Okay. I take that back.”

As the sun dipped below the horizon, Anne sat with Marco on the edge of the cliff, feet dangling.

“Someday, all of this is going to fall apart,” she murmured.

Marco nodded. “And when it does?”

She squeezed his hand. “I’ll still choose you.”

He smiled. “You’re the only Marine I’d ever break the world for-yoi”

They watched the stars together, unaware that soon, everything would change.

Rear Admiral Anne stood at the training grounds of Marineford, sweat glistening down her brow as she completed her fifth round of drills. Her haki-enhanced strikes shattered practice dummies with ease. Spectators—young recruits and seasoned captains alike—watched with a mix of awe and wariness.

"She's terrifying," one whispered. "Like Vice-Admiral Garp, but with fewer laughs and more death stares."

Anne sheathed her sword and rolled her shoulders. She had a rendezvous scheduled soon, but appearances needed maintaining.

"Rear Admiral Anne," Vice Admiral Tsuru approached, folding her arms behind her back. "I heard your last mission was executed flawlessly."

Anne gave a crisp salute. "Yes, ma'am. Pirate remnants neutralized. Minimal Marine casualties."

Tsuru's eyes twinkled. "Good. You're making waves, girl. Maybe even too many."

Before Anne could answer, a new voice chimed in.

"Too many waves means you’re swimming upstream. Dangerous for someone your size."

Anne groaned inwardly. "Hello, Aokiji-san."

Admiral Aokiji, casually dressed even in the fortress of order that was Marineford, gave her a lazy nod. "I saw your form earlier. Your haki’s improving. You punch like a cannon now."

"Thanks," she replied dryly. "Maybe one day I’ll hit hard enough to knock the lazy out of you."

"Scary." Aokiji mock shivered.

Tsuru chuckled and dismissed herself. As she left, Garp appeared from a nearby barracks hallway, munching on rice crackers.

"Brat," he barked.

Anne turned. "Grandpa."

Garp waved away a few curious recruits and yanked her into his office.

The moment the door closed, he slammed a fist into the desk, causing it to groan. "You’ve been meeting with that Phoenix boy again, haven’t you!?"

Anne didn't deny it. "Yes. And before you say anything—I’m not stupid. We’re careful."

"Careful won’t stop an imprisonment if someone finds out. You think Sengoku wouldn’t throw you in Impel Down if he knew what you’ve been doing—"

"I know, Grandpa." Her voice cracked, soft but firm. "I know the weight I carry. I chose this life because you believed I could change things from inside. I still believe that. But I won’t stop seeing Marco."

Garp sighed, sitting heavily. "You remind me too much of your brothers sometimes."

Anne smiled faintly. "Isn’t that a compliment?"

Garp just shoved more crackers into his mouth and grumbled. "Don't do something you’ll regret!”

That night, under the shroud of darkness and an overcast sky, Anne rendezvoused with Marco again—this time on a quiet island dock in the New World. After exchanging a few quiet, stolen moments together, Marco's expression shifted from his usual warm smile to something a bit more serious, as if he was weighing his words carefully.

“Weeks without seeing you feels like three years,” Marco murmured as he landed in his hybrid form.

Anne leaned into him. “Says the man who literally caught fire to dodge my last message Den Den.”

He chuckled. “You scare me when you're annoyed. And your last note said, ‘We need to talk.’ That’s usually not romantic-yoi"

“I had to make it sound like a Marine order. Just in case.”

Marco lifted her chin. “You sure you still want this? With everything heating up out there… war might not be far.”

Anne nodded, gaze resolute. “I’m sure. Besides… my heart decided before my rank did.”

They kissed, long and desperate, like time itself might steal the moment. For now, there were no emblems. No ranks. Just warmth.

"Anne," Marco sighed, his brow furrowing. "I need to talk to you about something serious. Teach killed thatch and stole his devil fruit…and Ace—he's going after teach-yoi"

Anne’s face grew serious as she listened, her heart tightening with concern. "He’s after teach?" she repeated softly, her mind racing. "Marco, I’ve got bad feelings for this… this bad feeling that something’s off. I don’t want him to go after Teach without understanding what he’s truly up against."

Marco nodded, but his worry didn't quite vanish from his eyes.

Later, after the night faded into silence and after they shared their warmth in a stolen kiss, Anne left with a heavy heart.

A few weeks passed before Anne crossed paths with Ace again. This time, he was alone, his usual smirk replaced by something harder, a look that spoke of a man who had made a decision. She stopped dead in her tracks as their gazes locked. “Ace,” Anne’s voice cut through the silence between them. “I heard. About Teach. You’ve got to be careful. He’s not someone you can just take down with fire alone.” She looked at her brother, seeing the stubbornness in his eyes, but also the uncertainty that she had been fearing. “Promise me you’ll be cautious.” Ace chuckled, ruffling Anne’s hair. “Of course. You’re still the overprotective little sister, huh?” But then his expression softened. “I’ll be careful, Anne. I’m not looking to get myself killed. But Teach won’t just sit around. I need to end this before it spirals out of control.” Anne nodded, her voice quiet but firm. “I know. Just don’t let that man get the better of you.” She kissed his cheek before pulling away, her eyes scanning the horizon like she could see the storm brewing in the distance. “And I’ll make sure Marco knows how to get in touch with me, in case things go sideways.”

Back at Marineford that evening, Anne stood atop the tower, looking at the sea.

She felt a presence behind her and spoke without turning.

“Kizaru-san. What now?”

The Admiral leaned casually against the railing. “You’re quite the enigma, Anne-chan~”

“Am I?”

“You train like a soldier, vanish like a thief, and fight like a demon...Even Sakazuki’s starting to wonder...about you~”

Anne stayed silent.

Kizaru smiled faintly. “You remind me of Roger’s crew... I fought them once, you know...Your eyes? Same fire~”

Her heart stuttered.

“But~” he continued, “you fight for us... So I won’t ask questions... Not yet~”

He vanished in a glimmer of light, leaving her breathless.

Later that night, Anne found herself in Garp’s office again.

“You’re being watched,” he warned her.

“I know.”

He sighed. “Something’s coming, Anne. You need to decide which side you’re truly on.”

She looked up, eyes glowing with resolve. “I already chose. I just don’t think the world’s ready for that choice yet.”

The jungles of the New World were thick and wild, but Anne moved through them like a ghost, her mind elsewhere.

She should have been at Marineford. She should have been at her brother’s side.

Instead, her grandfather Garp had sent her here, on a special mission. A mission that conveniently kept her far from Ace’s execution. Anne wasn’t stupid. She knew exactly what Garp had done — and why.

He knows I would have tried to stop it.

And he was right.

Because no matter her rank, no matter her duty, she would have torn the world apart to protect Ace and Luffy.

The day of the execution, Anne felt it.

The shift in the air.

The roaring Haki that seemed to tear the sky apart.

The terror.

Without thinking, she dropped everything. Her orders, her mission — none of it mattered. She boarded a small craft and forced it through the raging seas toward Marineford, her heart pounding louder than the crashing waves.

She arrived in the middle of chaos.

The war was already at its peak. Pirates and Marines clashed like titans across the shattered ice and broken ships. Screams filled the air. Blood stained the ground.

Anne didn’t hesitate.

She threw a large white cloak over herself, pulled a battered clown mask over her face, and sprinted toward the execution platform.

She arrived just in time to see Akainu aiming a killing blow at Luffy’s exposed back.

Ace moved instinctively — but Anne moved faster.

With a burst of Haki, she hurled herself between Akainu’s magma fist and Ace. Her sword, coated in everything she had left, clashed against the Admiral's burning attack.

The ground shook beneath them.

Anne gritted her teeth, feeling her arms tremble violently from the impact. Her sword cracked under the overwhelming heat and pressure, and her mask shattered, falling from her face.

The world seemed to freeze.

Ace’s eyes widened in horror.

“Anne?!” Ace gasped, horror and relief blending in his voice.

Anne’s lips curled into a small, defiant smile, even as blood dripped down her chin.

She didn’t speak. She couldn't. All she could do was push with everything she had.

For one, brief, shining second — she knocked Akainu back.

The Admiral stumbled, his magma fist withdrawing for the first time.

Anne staggered, the broken remains of her swords falling from her hands. She barely registered the shocked gasps from the surrounding pirates — or the way a certain blond man was covering his face with a shaking hand.

"Anne, you idiot," Marco muttered under his breath, torn between pride and absolute panic.

Anne wiped the blood from her mouth and turned her head just enough to see Ace and Luffy, still frozen in shock.

"Go," she rasped, her voice barely more than a whisper. "Now."

You ended up kicking both Ace and Luffy square in the stomach, sending them flying into Jimbe's waiting arms.

“Jinbe!” Marco barked. “Get them the hell out of here!”

“No! Anne!” Luffy screamed, reaching out as Jinbe grabbed him and bolted, Ace struggling in his grip.

Anne didn’t turn to look. She couldn’t.

Her focus was still locked onto Akainu, who had recovered from his stumble and was now glaring at her with cold fury.

“You… traitorous brat!” Akainu growled, his fists crackling with magma. “You dare betray justice!?”

Anne gave a tired, mocking smile. "If your 'justice' means killing my brothers," she said hoarsely, "then I'll betray it a thousand times over."

Anne dropped into a shaky stance, barely able to lift her fists. She didn't care about justice anymore.

All she cared about was Ace and Luffy’s safety.

Akainu charged, magma exploding from the ground around him. Anne dodged and weaved, her body moving on instinct, using her smaller size and speed to slip past his heavy, devastating blows.

A magma fist scorched the air inches from her face — she spun under it and slashed his side with a quick, Haki-laced strike, leaving a shallow cut across his coat.

The nearby pirates gawked.

Anne, barely able to stand minutes ago, had injured an Admiral.

Akainu snarled in fury and attacked again, faster and more vicious.

Anne ducked under a molten punch, then headbutted his chin with a burst of Haki so fierce it sent him staggering back two steps.

The Whitebeard Pirates watching in the distance let out a stunned cheer.

"Get him, brat!" someone yelled.

Anne wiped the blood from her forehead, grinning fiercely.

"What's wrong, Akainu?!" she taunted, voice dripping with sarcasm. "Getting beaten by a 'brat' half your size?"

Akainu’s face twisted in rage, steam pouring from his body.

He slammed his fists into the ground, magma exploding upward in a deadly wave.

Anne charged right through it.

Her cloak caught fire. Her boots melted. But she kept going — straight at him.

With a wild, reckless cry, she jumped and drove the hilt of her broken sword into his face, cracking his nose with a brutal crunch.

The battlefield fell silent.

Anne landed in a crouch, panting hard, the remains of her sword still clutched tightly.

Akainu staggered back, one hand flying to his bleeding nose.

The Admiral of Absolute Justice, humiliated — by a girl he once called nothing more than a "soldier."

Anne smirked up at him, cocky despite the blood dripping from her mouth.

But it couldn't last.

The moment passed.

Akainu roared, his entire body exploding with magma and fury, and Anne had no more strength left to dodge.

She raised her battered arms in a last, defiant stance—

Akainu surged forward, rage burning brighter than ever—but before his blow could land, a massive quake shook the battlefield.

Whitebeard.

The old pirate crashed into Akainu with a roar, sending the Admiral flying back with a devastating blow of his bisento.

Anne gasped for breath, her vision swimming. Her legs buckled—

—and Marco caught her before she hit the ground.

"Anne," Marco muttered, his voice thick with emotion. He cradled her against him, his hands glowing faintly with phoenix energy to try and slow her bleeding.

"Marco," she whispered weakly, clinging to his jacket.

"You idiot," he repeated, forehead pressing briefly against hers. "You almost got yourself killed."

Anne gave a faint, bloodied smile. "But… worth it, right?"

Marco swallowed hard. He couldn’t deny it. She had saved Ace. She had saved all of them.

He lifted her easily into his arms. “We’re retreating. Now.”

As the Whitebeard Pirates gathered to pull back, carrying their wounded and fallen, Anne closed her eyes against Marco’s chest, finally letting the exhaustion consume her.

Aftermath

Anne woke up to the sound of the ocean.

She was aboard a ship — not a Marine ship, but one of the Whitebeard Pirates’ vessels.

Her body ached from head to toe. Every muscle screamed in protest. Her hands were wrapped in thick bandages, her ribs tightly bound.

She tried to sit up — and immediately fell back with a groan.

“Don’t even try it.”

Marco’s voice drifted from the side of her bed. She turned her head to see him sitting there, arms crossed, looking more exhausted than she’d ever seen him.

"You broke both your arms, cracked three ribs, burned your hands, and gave yourself a concussion," he said flatly. "And somehow you still thought it was a good idea to stand in front of Akainu."

Anne winced. "Is Ace…?"

Marco’s expression softened.

"He’s safe. Thanks to you. Him and Luffy both."

Anne sagged with relief, tears burning her eyes. She scrubbed at them weakly with the back of her bandaged hand.

Marco reached out and caught her hand gently.

"Thank you," he said quietly. "For saving our family."

Anne squeezed his fingers weakly. "Always."

Meanwhile, back at Marine Headquarters:

Garp sat on the edge of a ruined wall, staring blankly at the sea.

Sengoku stood beside him, arms folded.

"You knew she’d do it," Sengoku said quietly.

Garp let out a loud, boasting laugh. "Of course I did! She's my granddaughter after all!"

He closed his eyes.

“She’s got the blood of monster running through her veins. And the heart of a fool.”

Sengoku didn't argue. He simply laid a hand on Garp’s shoulder and squeezed once, silently.

They had all lost today.

And yet, somehow, Anne had managed to save something precious.

Later, on the Whitebeard ship:

Under the blanket of stars, Anne sat on the deck, wrapped in a thick coat, watching the ocean drift by. Her hands still trembled, but she didn’t mind.

Marco dropped down beside her, handing her a cup of hot tea.

They sat in silence for a long time, the night air cool and salty.

Finally, Anne spoke.

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

"For what?"

"For worrying you."

Marco snorted quietly. "You're a pirate now, Anne. Worrying me is part of the deal."

She gave him a crooked smile.

Then, softly, Marco reached over and pressed his forehead against hers again.

"You’re family now," he murmured. "And we protect our own."

Anne closed her eyes, feeling the warmth of his presence against the cold night.

For the first time since the war had started, she let herself believe—

Maybe everything wasn't lost after all.

Reblogs and comments are appreciated