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And what would this name be? Ace? Portgas? Gol? No, not that - in Ace’s mind, the third option did not even exist.
As for the remainder options, yes, both given name and surname held a special meaning to Ace. Part of this significance had to do with his other name - D. - as it was said those branded with it were believers of some sort. What Ace knew about his middle name he’d learnt from two elder men, Old Gramps and Pops himself, as he did not dedicate much time thinking of prophecies and mysteries alike.
That would have been quite a question to bring forth an lay upon Ace’s table, about whether he trusted in prophecies and sayings of old; ask him to expose his thoughts in the non-palpable things of the world and those of the spiritual realm. While it would be untrue to say he’d never cared for such things in his twenty years of life, it would also taste a lie to say Ace cared nothing about them, even if a big part of the image he showed was that of a carefree man?
How could he not care when his entire life ahd been and remained to be about questioning what was beyond the visible? How much power could a bloodline hold? How sin could an infant carry, if it did carry a bit at all? Oh, but he did…! But to what point and how exactly could he free himself from it? What made a man ‘good’? What value did the word hold in this world?
Yes, those were things Ace thought about. Perhaps not in the course of brotherly merrymaking or when carrying his father’s benevolent work, but in moments of loneliness and internal distress he would. It was a shallow and pointless exercise, riddles that would never be answered. Yet, Ace asked the same questions every day, lest he die before he even tried. While death could be regarded with passivity by he who had always expected it, there was no excuse for sheer inertia. At least anger made life move on.
Those were, however, moral and philosophical questions any other soul could think about. Of the mysticism around the name of D., Ace cared not. Whatever it was it was and he’d chase his dreams and goals all the same, who gave a shit about what someone had once written in stone History knew how long ago?
“My name, you ask? Yes, it does” And believing Nonny was asking him not about his surname - his mother’s name - but his given one, Ace proceeded.
Names had meanings. Therefore, Ace’s name had to have one. He knew it was the name of a playing card - after all, had he not been captain of the Spade Pirates? - just like he knew it carried other interpretations in informal talk while the card itself was used for more elevated readings. Of those he could not speak by either knowledge or experience, but he’d seen fortune tellers make a playing deck the instrument of their trade.
Perhaps Ace had originally been a male name before the card appeared, meaning something grand like “king” or another something quite distant from it, like the name of the droppings for a specific species of bird. Or the card had come first and some person with a gambling fixation had decided it was nice enough for their son.
Why had Rouge named him ‘Ace’ anyway and not ‘Johnny’ or ‘Zack’?
Alas, she was not here to answer the question and Ace had little patience to visit a library and look up name meanings. As far as he was concerned, ‘Ace’ was special not because of its definition, but because of what it was.
“It’s not much… but it’s mine” His name. His very own and his alone, not Roger’s, not even Rouge’s. It could not be sold, traded or shared. It could not be erased. “No one can take it from me”
Other pirates could take his belongings. The Government might one day take his head and do with it and they willed. Two things Ace knew for sure - he would die with his boots on and holding his name in his possession. Maybe that was not much for a man to keep, for a soul to take to the afterlife, if it existed…
But to a boy turned man with little estate and who had done naught but to prove himself he had a right to exist, something as personal and non-transferable as a name meant a whole lot.
Ace was Ace. He was his own person. And in his name he reminded himself of that.
*anon meme* which one is your favorite AU and is there an AU verse you'd like to fulfill later in future :)?
♠ anonymous. munday.
Oh, that’s a hard one. I suppose you mean the ones I have already listed and not as a whole, the bulk of AUs people do. Naturally I love them all, otherwise I wouldn’t even consider them, but to pick a favourite…
I’m currently more excited about the Titanic AU and very happy @xfaucheuse chose it! I reckon an extended timeline is in order for the sake of our own rp convenience but, apart from that, there is a minimum of research involved on each reply, which is the kind of thing I like. (Which is why I also love the Greaser AU and thank @spottedsoftpaws for letting me write it!)
As for something I haven’t yet had the pleasure of doing, I have to say it’s the Whaleman AU. It involves more historical research than the others, so it is more elaborate, and also why I’m a bit of a scaredy cat and keep postponing it. But if someone where up to do it - while expecting extra delayed answers - I would tell myself to ‘woman up’.
The young boy, after polishing off five 1 litre tubs of ice cream, collapses on the floor, mouth open, eyelids half closed. "D-D-Da... I think I made a mistake... Help, I'm d-d-dyi..."
♠ anonymous (a series of children asks for the meme i never reblogged)
Will you look at that? Just look at it. Look! It’s the most pathetic sight Ace has ever witnessed happening on his kitchen floor, but of course he’d never watched himself lying there, snoring after succumbing to a narcoleptic moment or after filling his stomach with twice as much food any common man could take in without barfing - a happy tummy is a sleepy tummy!
Hovering the child, Ace crossed his arms and watched that display. _____’s belly was bloated, the untucked shirttail revealing a glorious curve of frosty happiness underneath as well as the belly button it should cover. A brown stream of chocolate ice cream flowed out of his mouth. If all of this did not constitute enough evidence for his crime, the scoop lying flat on the tiles certainly did, a portion of ice cream still inside as if to mock the kid.
Boy, was he milking it!
Ace was not mad at his son for emptying five tubs of ice cream… He was mad at his son for not making it to half-a-dozen! Was this the kind of wimp he was raising?
“Get up” he said with a roll of the eyes and a tired sigh in-between words. While it was plain to see that the boy was in pain, Ace also knew his son and therefore suspected a part of his double-meaning bellyaching was just his amateur dramatics at work.
The boy’s next declaration proved it so but, instead of it blessing his father’s features with a smile any boy his own age would bear, painted it with fire and anger.
“I said get up!” A hand seized _____’s arm and pulled him up with no mercy for his poor stomach’s condition or overall state of misery. Ace was acting brutish, no doubt, but he had good reason for it - the last thing he wanted, needed, was for his beloved son to joke about death.
What did the boy know of it? Nothing. And just as well, too. Fate had saved him the pain of having his mother irrevocably taken away from him. But it had not been so kind to Ace, who, after losing his companion his own ways, now feared fate, with a wolfish appetite for his particular destruction, would send his son on a one-way trip to the other side as well. He had every right to be touchy and find no humour in death.
In a grim voice only a few knew he was capable of, his son one not among them, Ace spoke rather ominous words “Don’t you say that ever again”
Then, his expression would soften but he’d remain quiet, allowing the command to sink in, and he would lift the boy in his arms to take him to the bathroom and provide him with soothing hot water.
“WHY WOULD I EVER WANT TO DO THAT?!” He didn’t mean to but there he was, yelling at the nonny before he could tell.
It was just the most outlandish thing anyone had ever asked him, unknown face or not. Just because he had trouble growing a decent-looking stubble, let alone a beard or moustache - something that had granted him the familial epithet of Baby Face - that didn’t mean Ace had to go with a smooth head to complement it!
He could see them now… The bald men. As a general rule, Ace cared little about how people looked or even smelt like, after years breathing in the toxic air of the Grey Terminal. Not to mention the more recent but almost equally foul ‘perfume’ of hundreds of men living together on a ship… But there was something about bald men that was not so nice to the eye.
A portion of his crewmates were bald. Some due to age, some as per choice. Some regretting it, some bearing their scalp with pride. Ace didn’t think much of it - why, his friend Fossa’s head, while not being entirely bald, sure was doing its best efforts to go that way and he gave no fucks about it, therefore Ace gave no fucks about it.
Yet, all bald heads have a silver lining... Which appeared whenever the sun was strong and the angle was right, nearly blinding unsuspecting passersby. What Devil Fruit would protect one’s eyes from that laser beam of pure sunshine? Not the Mera Mera no Mi!
No, no, no! Just no! Ace refused to be part of the select group known as The Baldies and blind people with no power but that of his scalp. What kind of lowly attack was that for a wanted pirate?!
There it was, the million beli question! Sure Ace preached more than he performed, always willing to share a personal mantra disguised as a catchphrase. Live a life without regrets. The recipient of the words would change and thus would the quote, but even if the structure suffered a little modification, the intention would always be the same - a reminder to himself. If anyone hearing Ace wanted to take the words for a lesson and do as he spoke, so be it. It was not for him to tell people what to do.
Oh, Ace had some regrets all right… For one, he regretted not having been smart enough or alert enough to see right through Teach and learn what he was up to. He’d always regret not having been the responsible commander his division deserved in that aspect, for which he had endangered them and which had resulted in the death of fellow commander and sea brother Thatch. Then there were lesser but still serious regret about this or that course of action as captain and as a man which would eventually lead to Ace questioning himself on matters of morals, worth and humanity….
Nonny’s question was quite sharp. Eatery-owners were not bandits, even if some demanded exorbitant amounts of money (in Ace’s evaluation as a professional eater). They were law-respectful people doing their business. Some had families to provide for.
Under this light, Ace’s dine and dashes were a bad thing to do and something he should feel bad about. It was not like he’d ask questions before deciding whether the restaurant could afford a freebie! Who knew how much damage this kind of behaviour had done to many a house? And it was not like he had the habit of picking really wealthy places to dine at, either… Those could certainly afford a few beli missing from their registers.
All in all, Ace knew fleeing from a restaurant check was not a good thing to do and the money in his pocket would grow heavy every time he mused on this as if, in all the morality it had and that Ace was apparently lacking, it wanted to burn a whole in his pocket, fall through it and run into the rightful hands. He just couldn’t help it! After years of doing it so as not to go to bed on an empty stomach when the day’s hunt had been fruitless, his self was just programmed to dine and dash and had no more control over it than it had over his narcolepsy, even if he had the money to cover the expenses.
To answer nonny’s question…
“Nah” he said like it was no big deal, even shrugging in reinforcement. “Look, I’m not proud of it but I don’t regret it either. It’s just what I do”
(ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧ This is the Amazing Person Award! (and trust me... you are AMAZING) Once you are given this award you are supposed to paste it in the ask of eight different people, who, in your opinion, deserve it. If you break the chain nothing will happen, but it's sweet to know someone thinks you're amazing inside and outside 💖💜✨
♠ anonymous
Thank you very, very, very much for this message! I do treasure positive chains!
Ace watched the nonny poke his bare belly with an almost neutral expression save for a brow lifted ever so slightly and boiling curiosity behind it. Why was this person interested in touching him in this childish way? He’d sooner understand if the other performed a more aggressive gesture, such as roughhousing or punch his abdomen as part of a pretend fight or play. Ace was, indeed, very used to the second example coming from his sea brothers.
Deciding no explanation was needed, he, too, messed with the nonny, only in a verbal way.
This is a reminder that you are loved and appreciated. Things might be hard right now but please know you are cared for and someone is rooting for you.
I am very grateful to you for taking a minute sending me this message. In my current state, such a lovely gesture is immensely appreciated. There is not much I can do so… to know I’m appreciated, even in a manner that might seem so impersonal and virtual, is awfully sweet.
Roger did not flinch in the face of his son's anger, no, he greeted it with a sad smile. "No, I don't think you will. You're too kind, too much like her to do it." The wheelchair groaned under the extra weight pressing into it, trembling under Ace's grip, and the fingers digging into his shoulder brought great discomfort, but Roger pushed through it. Ace was, by far, more important."I know it's my fault. After all, the fault shouldn't be placed on an innocent child who's done nothing wrong." 1
When Ace’s fist ignited, Roger regarded it with pride in his eyes. “Even without anyone to guide you, you’ve still become a fine young man. Strong in body and personality.” Finally, finally, Roger looked Ace in the eyes only for his to widen. There were those tears. Those same damned tears that never suited Rouge when she was alive certainly didn’t suit her son now. They looked sorely out of place in those fiery coals. It felt like Roger was being stabbed in the chest just looking at them.
Roger would never claim the title of being the smartest man in the world, but what did he care about that? Not a whole lot. He’d done more than his fair share of risky activities. Now, would he risk getting blown to bits for hugging his son? Yes, yes, he would. His boy was more than worth the risk. It’d be plenty easy now that he was close enough too. With his mind made up, Roger yanked Ace closer to him and wrapped his arms around the young man. “Rouge would be so proud of you. I know I am…”
Time seemed to stop. The globe ceased rotating. The flame around Ace’s fist was not sufficient to cast light on the darkness within, the same one he was adjusting frequencies with, reading it and reminiscing now…
He was a boy again. A little boy on Dadan’s doorstep, no friend in the world to keep him company. There was this boy… Sabo was his name. But they were not friends, not yet, only acquaintances, fellow free spirits, joined together in nonconformity for the world too blind to see their worth. Current circumstances were drawing the boys closer, but Ace’s armour was still too thick for Sabo to penetrate. A boy such as Ace, too burdened with questions his maturity, paradoxically, should not be enough for him to pose definitely was not enough for him to see the answers he sought, did not make friends easily.
Sabo’s friendship had been a miracle against all odds. Ace could see himself wandering the streets of Goa Kingdom alone, on his lonely philosophical quest, bearing naught but his loyal pipe and his everlasting existential doubt. Back then, his attitude regarding Roger was different.
He hated the man, alright - hated him for living him and Mother alone! But it was not on Roger’s broad, crimson-covered, epaulette-adorned shoulders that Ace put Rouge’s death. It was on his small, at date scrawny shoulders. And though no random person with their quarrels with the Pirate King could hate him as much as his own child did, Ace would not tolerate it when dark citizens badmouthed Roger. He could not tell why…
Years later, while still a child but already in the presence of Sabo, now his friend and partner in daydreams made of salt and sunshine, Ace was no longer defending Roger. His hatred was still there but it had mutated, his loathing now quieter, internalised. More wicked. It was above giving a fuck for someone he cared not about.
He could now understand why he’d defended Roger in the first place: far from it being for Roger’s sake, it was for his own. It was the refusal of being associated with the man people spoke about, as told in and per their accounts. Once he had renounced Roger, there was no way Ace would waste his precious time and strength - his own time and strength - defending him.
But had he ever wished to kill Roger? Yes… and no.
No one could kill what was already dead and thus coming up with murderous fantasies would be a petty exercise for a boy who was too practical for such exercises. On the other hand, once he came to realise, as a teenager now, that Roger was the one to blame for Rouge’s death, with his meddling and ruining of her chances of a beautiful life, Ace had been sure he’d be capable of killing Roger if he appeared even in his nightmares, in what would be a justified and successful attempt to avenge his mother and a fruitless try at saving himself through Roger’s death.
Quickly, Ace saw his life flash before his eyes… Funny how such a phenomenon is connected with one’s imminent death and not as an occurrence associated with one’s desire to bring death upon another.
He paid attention to the negative feelings, ignoring the bright ones sponsored by his brothers and even Dadan one time or another, Makino too. All the times he’d felt a foreigner in the only place he had for a home… All the nights he’d dreamt of his mother and had to witness her die in his own hands, at his own hands… All the times he’d felt hopelessness. All the times he had simply existed rather than lived… Those wore all Roger’s fault. Yes, Luffy and Sabo, Deuce and the Spades, Pops and his sea children… All of them had influenced Ace’s life for the better and made it worth living. But the pain had never left him…
To murder Roger, the undead evil, would be Ace’s ultimate act of vindication.
And he was ready to perform it and have the curtain close down on all misery of his life - kill it and start anew, be a new form of himself, Ace, the pirate; not Ace, the devil’s child - when Roger spoke from his wheeled high horse. There was no hint of fear in his voice, nor was it acceptance for a death already too delayed.
Ace’s eyes widened and quivered and so did his fist, which he managed to steady. Not his mind, though.
How could Roger be so sure? Why, he didn’t know him! Didn’t know Ace at all! And he’d never tried to, either, had he? With what right did he tell him what he was and wasn’t capable of doing? Maybe if he had actually tried, years ago…
It was too late now.
“I AM NOT KIND!” His voice came like a wild lion’s roar in Roger’s face. His fire blazed ever higher with this new rush of adrenaline. “DAMN RIGHT IT’S YOUR FAULT!What the fuck do you know of innocence? You can’t know of that which you never had, nor can I. Thanks to you!”
Tears streamed down his orbs. Oh, how he wished he could claim innocence for himself! Never, not even as a hapless baby covered in his own drool, no corrupted thoughts in his mind, had Ace ever been innocent. It would have felt so good… to be innocent…
His fist shook once more. The hand holding Roger’s shoulder did too and stubbornly tried to compensate its sister’s weakness with a firmer grip.
Do it…How hard was it to kill a man? How easy would it be to kill the shadow of one? One blow and Roger would die. The root of evil would die.Do it, Ace. Be useful… for once.
Then, the unthinkable happened. Roger pulled Ace in for a hug, surprisingly strong for a decrepit old man, exactly the type only an elder man clinging to life could. Ace was Roger’s life now. The living buoy he desperately got ahold of, lest Death’s ship come pass him by and for him call a halt.
Ace felt Roger’s phalanges digging into his skin, strong as iron. They felt like ancient roots keeping the Earth together. He felt the coldness of the bones inside their fleshy wrapping. But in spite of all this might, it was not Roger’s hug that got to him… It was him talking of Rouge.
Always Rouge.
How could Roger feel pride in a son who had stopped being his a long time ago, one he did not know? And how dare he say Rouge would be proud of Ace? What the hell did she have to feel proud of? Ace could not see what the fuck could be so special about a trash kid who had managed to remain alive in notwithstanding the circumstances.
One blow… but it did not come. Ace pushed Roger away, not caring whether his wheelchair kept secure on the ground or fell to it, and its owner along with the frame.
“DON’T YOU FUCKING TOUCH ME! DON’T YOU SPEAK HER NAME!” Like a madman trying to suffocate the voices in his head, Ace pressed his hands tight against his ears, refusing to listen to anything else Roger had nothing to say. There was nothing he wanted to hear from those lips.
His fist was no longer aflame. Ace did not know how to react or what to think. He wanted to kill Roger, still, but the fucker was right: he was kind. His heart was gentle… Even if he would kill the Roger everyone talked about, tall and strong and loud, he would not kill a dying man in a wheelchair, especially one who was on the floor, if Roger was indeed on the floor - Ace was not seeing any of it. This world…
If his gentleness was Rouge’s gift to him along with existence and the freckles, then Ace’s wish could not be any other than to cherish it and use this gift for his mother’s sake. So she could, indeed, be proud of him.
(Rouge!Anon) I know I don't have to include them, but I want to. I've always felt the little details give a little bit more life to one's writing, which is something that you and your blogs absolutely glow with! Whether it's intentional or not, everything you write is so beautiful. Yes, even the funny stuff! Though I may not have the time to run a blog of my own, coming back here to this blog after work is a big highlight of my day! You don't need to have posted anything new, just looking over
the old stuff brings a smile to my face. As for my views on Rouge, I have to agree with a large majority if not all of the points you made in your last post, especially the first two. I never quite understood why someone might make those arguements without having any logical basis behind them. Not only does it not make any sense for Rouge to be a part of Roger’s crew for the very reasons you’ve given, but there is also no reason to connect Nami with Rouge as they are and always have
been two completely separate characters. I think it has something to do with shipping, but I don’t think those that make the connection between Roger + Rouge and Luffy + Nami gave it much thought in the first place. And can I just say how on point your point on Rouge’s character is? Because it is. It is so on point that it might as well be a dart hitting the middle of a dartboard target. Truly, why should a woman have to conform to a male’s role to be strong? I know quite a few stay at
home mothers that would give even the biggest of men a run for their money with words alone. No need to raise a hand in violence at all. I feel, no, I know if Rouge were to “fight” at all, it would be with her words, not her fists, in spite of any physical strength she may have had due to the labor she’d done around her home. On to Roger, if there is anyone I love just as much as Rouge and Ace, it’s Roger. Rouge, in contrast to him, would definitely be his foil, someone to calm him down
if only a little bit for a while. However, I firmly believe she’d also be just as stubborn as him if not more so. The one to put her foot down or reel him in before things go southward, so to speak. Perhaps the best way to describe it would be to say she’s the voice of reason? I feel Ace falls between his parents here, eager for a fight, but still thinking a lot more than his father would before starting something. He’s more like Rouge in that regard, he’d want an explanation for things.
Hoo, boy, this a lot, but I’m still going! I do indeed doubt Rouge would ever truly be unkind in any way. Maybe stern or disappointed with someone, but unkind? Most certainly not. For her to couple Roger would mean that she is an extraordinarily understanding individual. Roger was figuratively crowned King of the Pirates, a title rightly feared by many. She’d have to have given him a chance and gotten to know him before Ace could ever be conceived. The love of her community would be
a result of that kind and understanding nature. However, let it not be said that she wouldn’t stand up for herself or her loved ones should it be called for. Going on about her, a firm belief I have is that she would always call Ace her boy, her son, because he is. She spilt her own blood, sweat, and tears -though not in that particular order- to make certain that he would live. She was willing -and ultimately did- give up her life for Ace. He is, above all, her child and she’d forever
proudly claim him as such. Even shout it to the world as she pleased. It would not matter to her how old he was, he would always be her little boy in her eyes. He is her world and she’d give everything up for him if she had to. I’ve also given thought as to what her occupation may be… I don’t know why, but I can see her as a potter. Her small hands would be an advantage in creating various complicated pieces, and her willingness to get her hands a bit dirty also aids this thought.
Another thought I’ve had is what her background could have possibly been and how old she was. We know Roger was in his fifties when he was executed and I’d like to think Rouge was at least well within twenty years of that age range… maybe in her thirties? Perhaps her mid to late thirties when they first met? I have so many thought threads going that it’s hard to keep track. Did they plan to have Ace or was it spur of the moment? I honestly don’t think it was the later.
There’s one thing I’m kind of on the fence about when it comes to her though. I’ve put a lot of thought in it, but I think having another person weigh in with their perspective would help. During her pregnancy, it’s shown -from what I understand- that Rouge could sense Ace fairly well. Not only that, but delaying his birth through sheer will alone… Do you think she could have had Haki? I don’t think it’d have been all that strong, but maybe it was a weak form of Observation Haki?
I must agree that yes, it’s about the details. I love to read them - they are the most revealing of a person or character’s nature, intentions and so on & of great use to the writer, for establishing a coherent story/chronology or for foreshadowing, for instance - and thus hope I do a good job at writing them as well. I guess that’s why I abuse adverbs so much and I reckon I’d be more descriptive if my vocabulary was superior.
I do try to… Well serious threads will always be my favourite but I reckon silliness is needed to lighten the mood, though I’m not always in the mood for it. Still, even in crack things, I try to keep Ace’s nature the same, you know? If I fail… well that’s why it’s called crack, I guess. But I am very glad you think so, that even the things where I have freedom to go stupid are not that utterly idiotic! I am oh so very glad someone notices it ;; It’s not like I am making an effort and being in control but I do make decisions before publishing something and I’m glad those seconds I spend are showing.
Ah, how many times can I thank you? I do wonder what other blogs of mine you keep track of, since you used the plural. I am really flattered that you check on my blog often and take time in writing to me, whether through asks like this one or as Rouge & co. Never thought someone would go through all that trouble and if my blog makes you happy, then I’m happy! Reckon I’ve been slow but I’d rather take weeks to answer something and have a sense of pride when I do.
It’s totally a shipping thing! Of King and Queen, Roger/Rouge and Luffy/Nami. While I can respect that, and even respect it when people consider Luffy their King or Nami their Queen because they’re partial to the characters - hey, I’m very partial to Ace, I understand the feeling - there’s no reason to shape Rouge at will in order to make LuffyxNami a legitimate, more ‘official’ pairing or, again, to ‘justify’ Rouge’s importance with giving her a more active role.
To paraphrase you a bit,or at least to use your words as base, how strong is a woman who can tame a man with words alone? That’s no display of weakness, quite the contrary. How commanding is a woman whodoes not have to take much action - maybe even a nod will suffice - to make a man stay or advance? Not that we know to what point Rouge could control Roger’s temper, of course, this is just to say there is phenomenal strength and authority in such things. Yet, some would have it that being strong equals being loud.
It might seem I’m going down another road but… The Mummy’s (1999) Evelyn and Rick have always been my favourite cinema couple and there’s a scene that makes me melt and speaks volumes of Evy’s strength. It’s when Rick is ready to fire but Evelyn simply grabs his arm firmly and gently, the way only a woman is capable of, and with that and a look she makes him lower his guns.
This is the kind of strength I can see Rouge having over Roger. I am not saying he’s a puppet in her hands - and quite frankly I don’t see her as manipulative or anything of the sort - and I am not saying this would always work. But if Roger is being his eager self around Rouge, she can protect him before he even puts himself in trouble. I am not sure I can phrase it any better but this is it - and you have explained it better. Again, stubborness can be channelled in different ways…
That is an ingenious observation! That Ace is somehow the synthesis or the balance between his parents’ personalities. It’s also an evolutionary thing, of sorts, as he paradoxically learns to control his fire within only to become actual living fire. We see him being just as eager in nature as an adult - it’s not like Ace’s penchant for violence disappears but it subsides. But it’s clear he does a lot of thinking from what we see in Impel Down/Marineford, all those twists near his death - he accepts his fate but doesn’t want to die, he deserves it but he still fights… Oh, Ace cannot decide which of his desires - to keep on living, to get absolution, to rest, to give the world the biggest middle finger he’s ever given - is the strongest. So yes… I do see him giving things more thought than it might seem at first tight and I do hope my writing is a vehicle for it.
Had Rouge lived, had Ace been raised by her, she would have always called him her son or her boy, yes. I actually have an idea of how things would be if that were the case… Ace would still hate Roger, that would not change. Only the way/why of doing so would. He’d hate Roger for leaving his mother alone. As a child, and though he’s quite bright or ‘street smart’, there is no way he can see the full dimension of his parent’s affair or relationship and would aptly, childishly, blame Roger for ‘walking away’ and abandoning them - because that’s his pov. That ‘father’ left his family… And then it would change into Ace hating Roger for getting close to Rouge in the first place, even if it puts his own existence at stake, and this I do include in my canon setting - how did he have the nerve to approach a lady like her while fully aware a fairytale relationship, the happiness she deserved, could never be achieved? It’s not like they could live together until the end of days… Ace doesn’t know if Roger tricked Rouge, if it was a carnal thing…In short, he doesn’t know the dynamics - but he knows Rouge deserved better.
But I see Rouge trying to make Ace change his mind. It should hurt her to hear her son - his son - say he hates him or that he has no father. She would definitely scold Ace for saying such things if he was abusing it, otherwise I can see her trying to calm him down or lessen his hatred by randomly recalling episodes of Roger’s wooing of her. I don’t know, she’s making a pie, Ace is watching/helping her and she breaks the silence with a ‘did I ever tell you…?’ kind of story.
At least in the anime dub, I recall a line about Roger being in Baterilla ‘like a civilian’ or ‘any regular man’, something like that, which might be revealing, too - Roger knows he can’t stay by Rouge’s side thanks to piracy and his illness as well but that doesn’t seem to be an impediment. He truly does as he wants! We can only speculate about what this actually means - say, is Roger casually being bread like a regular Joe? - but that’s a kind of story survivor!Rouge could tell her son in the hopes of making Roger less of a beast in his eyes!
I also imagine Rouge would get lost in thought every now and then while watching the sea, thinking of her dear Roger and times of old and memories they had never got the chance to make… If only you could see your son now… I see he gets more and more like you everyday…Imagine teenage!Ace get in trouble and being dragged to Rouge’s doorstep. “Your boy was at it again”. Though she has to give the neighbour reason, she can’t help feeling proud of herself at hearing the words ‘your boy’. Maybe he stole some crops? Maybe he saw a dog all tied up and tried to free it? I am sure there’s mischief Rouge would secretly feel proud of, if it meant Ace has a good core.
And again, your idea is brilliant! Rouge as a potter is a good analogy for… ultimately what she did with Roger, isn’t it? She shaped something into something else, rather more refined. (And I recall clay/earth is also the material humans come from in some cultures). I guess that’s another of her powers: to transform things into something beautiful. Like with the flowers!
Oh, Rouge is a goddess walking this earth! To me she is. To me, flowers grow where she steps. Sometimes I can’t believe a character that is so short-lived can have all this impact.
I love the idea of Rouge in her thirties. She would find Roger’s age and the contrast between the maturity he should have and his boyish penchant for trouble interesting, if not charming. And I imagine her listening to his adventures very intently, filling her cup with tea and his with the drink of his choice so he can go on… If she’s never sailed or if she’s never left the South Blue at least she’d be positively overwhelmed by his stories. All the things he has seen!
I really can’t help you any further now. I don’t see them sitting down and saying they should have a baby, yet, as Roger was said to ‘be acting like any other man in Baterilla’, I suppose establishing a family is part of that thought! Maybe it’s not that they decide on it but maybe some hints are dropped. There are many means to achieve on end. You know, Roger talking of a strapping young lad and Rouge using her female charms to ask him what he thinks of baby feet when he least expects… We can only speculate. So while I can’t say I totally believe Ace was planned, I can easily see a desire for it that can be supported by that canon reference.
As for Rouge and her possible Haki, I’m afraid I am not smart enough to give it thought. Let’s see… I guess not much can be truly discussed without the truth of the Will of the D being out there, for Rouge is a ‘D’. On one hand, we don’t know much about women’s health in the world of OP.
(I actually wrote a lot from this point on but decided to erase it al for fear of walking way out of the topic, so…)
Long story short, there are three things we have to consider here: the state of medicine and the particular views of women’s health in the world of OP, the Will of the D, and Haki and its forms - and I don’t think what we have for any of the three is satisfactory enough to let us test hypotheses. Or what we have about Haki is good enough indeed but the other two instances are lacking… There is something uncommon about Rouge, that much is obvious - but what name it goes by I do not dare try and guess.
(I am sorry I am useless about the questions that matter most to you!)
(Rouge!Anon) It makes me happy to know you like my asks! Are there any specific heacanons you have for Rouge that you'd like to see in the future? I wouldn't mind including them for you. Personally, I've always felt she was the kind of woman unafraid to stick her hands in the dirt while tending her flowers, but I'm always up for discovering another person's views!
Of course I like your asks! <3 And first things first, you don’t have to include any headcanons of mine in your asks, nor does anyone else! I do appreciate it when people do it, like when @rxvolutionarysabo mentioned my hc that Ace’s necklace used to be Dadan’s, but that’s an extra detail of attention and not an obligation.
I am not sure if I have specific headcanons for Rouge, though she’s my queen and I love her. What I can say is I am strongly against the idea that (part of) the fandom has that Rouge was Roger’s navigator.
Firstly, I don’t see how that plays with the canon narrative about her Baterilla life, for even if the was a former pirate finding peace in the South Blue, Roger’s was just not any crew for her face to remain unknown, meaning she would most likely not be welcomed or have the marines called on her without the need of a pregnancy. Then, this fame would also make it too easy to do the maths and figure that if she’s pregnant, her baby’s father might be Roger and even if their relationship is not unknown, there would be no taking chances in playing the ‘it could be any man’s’ game. I see everything in canon rendering the argument very… poor.
Then, I believe it to be a projection of the whole King Luffy and Queen Nami idea - and maybe an association between Nami’s orange hair and Rouge’s strawberry blonde which are, again, poor arguments.
Finally, I consider it quite insulting when a fandom will insist on forcing a female character of importance to be more active, of action or associated with values and cultural expressions within the male sphere, as though only doing so validates her! Rouge doesn’t even get a full page in the manga, yet, her existence has great importance in the general story of One Piece and it’s remarkable that a woman so unknown can have this prominence.
Then, if we consider the anime, everything points to a rather domestic lady, whether her demeanour is calm and submissive or not. Apparently, people have a hard time accepting that such a woman can have the importance she does and will find arguments such as saying she was a navigator to justify it, as though there’s anything wrong with not being a navigator - with being, say, a regular lady of no apparent extraordinary features or traits (save for her beauty). As far as I’m concerned… it’s this ‘usualness’ that might have interested Roger, as it makes a good contrast with his own demeanour and balances it out - but that would be a guessing canon doesn’t offer proof for either, I reckon.
My point is, I do not see Rouge as a woman of action and no need to maker her one: every woman has value. There are many kinds of strengths. Not only woman of action are ‘strong’ and that’s quite a male’s view of the subject. (And I do hate it when those who advocate for strong women are the first ones not to understand the concept and belittle women who do not embrace the male sphere). Rouge has a mother’s strength and that is of great value - several societies equal the role of mother with that of a warrior at some point or the other.
I envision Rouge as delicate, which doesn’t mean frail - of course she can’t be too frail if she’s in a relationship with that over-the-top Roger, but then again that doesn’t mean he wouldn’t have toned it down for her. A man can be rather brutish and eager for trouble but be caring to the woman he fancies. Humans are complex like that.
I agree with her getting her hands dirty. I don’t think she’s afraid of manual labour and living alone she might have carried her own wood for the winter. Maybe her resilience points to this, too, for we see her out and about during pregnancy (in the anime), meaning she can soldier on her own way. I imagine she likes to bake and leave pies to cool down on the window sill - again, maybe it’s just that I see nothing wrong with being a strong homemaker, provided this is the woman’s free will.
One headcanon I believe I have included in this or that thread or drabble as ‘fact’ or as something Ace imagines is that Rouge was beloved by her community.
Maybe it’s her ethereal look - slender, donning the blue that is a sacred colour in Christendom, and if you know me you know I see a religious motif surrounding Ace and even Whitebeard and, here, Rouge. Maybe it’s her kindness - it’s a guess but can you see this woman being unkind?
My Ace believes his mother was a very beloved woman, because how could she not be so? (in his idea of her) when she’s so kind to everyone and graceful and her voice beautiful?
And woah this is long… Will you tell me your ideas of her?
Hey, it's the anon behind Mrs. Merri, Rouge, and the first Roger. I just want to apologize for the whole misunderstanding a while back. It wasn't my intention to make anyone upset. To the other anon, I'm sorry for irritating you, and to you, the mun of this blog, I'm sorry for any discomfort the whole thing caused. I should have been more clear with my wording to prevent something like that from happening. I'll do so from now on.
As far as I’m concerned, the apology is accepted, if it is any necessary in the first place. To me it isn’t, as the misunderstanding was not upsetting to me or anything, but it’s awfully nice of you to apologise to the other nonny. It reveals good character and I hope they understand it. There’s really no need for any of us to get upset over something which you clearly didn’t mean. And thank you again for all your asks to me! You know exactly how to cater to my interests!
Ace felt he should thank the woman for her assistance that day; that it was the polite thing to do. Yet, he could not do it, and the more he thought about it the less inclined to thanking her he felt. One one hand, he could not thank her for help bringing him to a life he was not too keen on living. On the other… could he really thank her for a wonderful job when Rouge had survived but barely just? That did not seem like a job well done at all.
For a moment, Ace’s eyes blazed with something akin to hatred. He should hate the midwife and her… negligence or incompetence or whatever you called it. Fact: Ace had been separated from his mother and thought her dead until very recently; he’d been robbed of a life with her for at least two reasons, one of them being Rouge’s hardly living state - for all he knew, that could be partly Doctor Merri’s fault.
As he followed the woman, though, and as every step released some anger through the sole of his boots to the tile-covered mother earth, Ace decided it was not worth it - he already had more than enough loathing to last for a lifetime, nay, to last for an age of humanity, and he did not need to direct it at an old physician. In this very moment, doing so would be a waste of energy and heart, both of which he needed for his mother, waiting somewhere beyond that wall, beyond that door…
Everything Merri Luanne said sounded like mumbo-jumbo. Ace did not care for the medical details, just like he didn’t dismiss them, but his dual focus of brain and heart was currently synchronised and tuned on a channel called ‘reunion’. All Ace caught of her blabber was her questionioning his certainty, to which he promptly replied with an affirmative nod and a hushed ‘yes…’
Before the door could be pushed open, though, Ace asked the doctor to wait. It might seem like he had changed his mind, at first, but that could not be further from true. He only needed an extra time.
If he was going to see his mother - to meet her at last - then he should look presentable. Even if she could not see or acknowledge him and have her eyes save a picture of him in her heart, for her to take out and look at every time she needed. Rouge deserved that. Why, if Ace could make himself polite and pleasant to a complete stranger, then he ought to do the same for his own mother… His dear mother… Who could not see him…
There was a sink next to the door but no mirror. For sanitation purposes, he figured. Ace filled his hands with clean water and splashed it on his face, giving himself a modest, rather feline reminiscent wash. With wet fingertips, he combed his hair. He would have bothered - and it would have been no bother at all - to comb his hair properly and completely remove the ridiculous-looking hairs that were starting to grow on his chin if he had known better.
There. He was as decent as he could be, fresh and clean and not smelling unpleasantly in any way. His mother deserved better…
“I’m ready” he told Merri Luanne with no falter in his voice and no regret about his latest sequence of actions.
Another bear had found its way to Ace’s locker. Things were starting to get weird - just the day before, Ace had found a ripped piece of paperbearing a similar design left amid his belongings, the main difference being its pose, in which the bear was going for a kiss, whereas this one seemed to be going for a hug or begging to be held up at least.
It was the same paper and everything - maybe from the same sheet - which meant the second bear came from the same person who’d sent the first one. Still a cute thing to get; but Ace wondered if this would be his new life now, to receive a different bear from some stranger every school day…
🌼~BEAUTIFUL PERSON AWARD! Once you're given this award you’re supposed to paste it in the askboxes of 8 people who you think deserve it. If you break the chain nothing happens, but it's sweet to know someone thinks you’re beautiful inside and out.~🌼
