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It was nice of Raven to volunteer to get the kitchen decent while he got dressed, especially when Ace’s remark on her looks hadn’t been a full-blown compliment, but he didn’t want to turn her into his maid or anything. Friends could help friends with their domestic chores but Raven was not exactly a ‘friend’. She was more of a ‘I can’t help being stuck with’ kind of girl.
“Never mind that, I’ll do it later. Plus, we don’t want you to ruin your nice dress, do we?” What’s this? Another compliment? “Face it: it’s the only thing you have to wear for your class reunion back inSalem”
Oh. So there was a joke after all. Ace’s words were not entirely in jest, though - he did not want Raven to ruin her outfit when she looked so pretty in it, but he couldn’t straight up admit it, could he?
Ace scratched his arm and pointed at the fridge, reckoning Raven would not say ‘no’ to a pre-dinner beer though her preference was set on fancier beverages. “Make yourself at home, I’ll be right back”
The two of them joked and bickered a lot as part of their dynamic but Ace knew his house was in good hands. He knew better than to expect Raven to make the best of his absence by fetching a portable cauldron from her purse and brew herself a mix; and he knew Raven would not spy on the contents of his cupboards - if she did she would find everything was in order, though not meticulously in a serial killer kind of way, just food and utensils neatly organised.
He got ready for the date. What? No! It was not a date, it was just dinner! Even if it was, it didn’t matter as long as food was a part of it.
With another lady and with no pressure to get ready, Ace would have taken his time getting squeaky clean and groomed. For Raven, though, and with her waiting downstairs, he simply washed whatever he had to wash, made sure he was wearing socks without any holes - it was the principle of the thing - and got dressed in a pair of trousers and a cotton shirt he didn’t bother buttoning up to the very top. At least he smelled nice.
“Right, let’s do this” he announced in a military tone fitting of his career as he combed his fingers through his hair.
Portgas D. Ace and Shea Raven dining together? In public? Sounds like trouble for the authorities.
Raven had been ready to enter the kitchen and stop whatever had burned the food. Before she could even step foot into the kitchen, however, Ace stopped her. She paused and glanced up at him, about to ask if he was sure.
His half-compliment earned another eyeroll from her, but she didn’t dwell on it. Instead, she merely said, “Go put on something presentable. Maybe ya’ll go from a wild ape to a nicely-groomed gorilla.”
Oh, so she was allowed to go into the kitchen after all? Raven headed for the fridge and opened it, scanning its contents. A drink would suffice for now; she didn’t want to ruin her appetite. Wow, Ace had really shitty beer, didn’t he? It would have to do for now, though. Raven swept a can of cheap drug store beer into her hand, closed the door of the fridge. She opened the beer and took a sip.
Disgusting.
Once this was over, Raven headed for the living room. There, she’d sit and try to make the best of her shitty beer until Ace was ready to go. It didn’t really matter to her how long it took Ace to get ready; she had kind ofbarged in on him at a weird time, after all. She wouldn’t have blamed him if it had taken a while.
To her surprise, she hadn’t been waiting for very long at all. She hadn’t even been able to finish her beer. When she heard Ace’s voice, she turned her head and paused.
Wow. He actually didn’t look bad. He’d gone from sloppy domestic male to semi-sloppy, good-looking guy ready for a night out.
Raven cocked an eyebrow and slowly nodded. The corner of her mouth curled upward.
“Niiiice. Ya clean up better than I thought. More like a golden lion tamarin instead of a gorilla.”
Her own sassy half-compliment in response to his earlier.
Raven rose to her feet and joined Ace. Together, they headed for the door and started the walk to the Olive Garden.
It was actually a pleasant evening, cool and dry with a colourful sunset. Not too many people were out and about on foot. Thankfully, Ace’s house wasn’t a particularly long walk to the restaurant.
It made Raven wonder if her boss happened to know this. A silly thought, and highly unlikely, but what if she did know?
@pxrtgasdace said: Ace got in the queue. He didn’t know what it was for but chances were, if there was a queue,’ they’ should be giving away something nice.
We are warping the time-space continuum here and make Ace the last even tho he was actually the first.
Sporting a shirt with a ‘free kisses’ sign attached to it, Emil sat on a barrel. It took some time for the first person to approach her, but eventually, one after another there was few brave ones. Especially after people realized Emil was offering brief cheek and nose and forehead kisses along with few occasional kisses on the hand.
Eventually, a familiar face showed up in front of Emil. “Hey, Ace.” She smiled. To reach to him comfortably, she jumped onto the barrel. “Hold still.” With one hand, she pushed Ace’s hat off his head while guiding his face with another hand on his cheek. She lent in and pressed a soft kiss on Ace’s forehead, just under the hairline. “Here you go~” she sang and put the hat back on Ace’s head.
With the queue making itself shorter with every ‘customer’ moving aside once provided with what Ace hoped were free samples of deli meats and cheeses, he was able to recognise the fishwoman - that band-aid shaped spot across her nose most uncanny - though he failed to see the goods she was distributing.
Facing the absence of any kinds of meat or cheeses, Ace pouted and with the tiniest puff of annoyance hovering him like a personal rain cloud, took two steps forward when another guy left the queue, and with two more after a second anonymous person exited as well, reached Emil. Her shirt announced what she was promoting and, alas!, it was nothing edible.
“Howdy” he greeted, still slightly irritated. “Damn! Can’t believe I’ve been waiting all this time for–” He did not finish his sentence - and what a good thing, too! - because Emil was quick in delivering the goodies she was serving. His cheek turned pink where her hand was, and so would have his forehead if it could.
Ace coughed a dry cough, ‘ahem’ style. “Guess that’s not bad either… Thanks”
Halloween was definitely on its way. Everyone Ace met seemed to be in the middle of some form of preparation for the candy-coated holiday, either fashioning costumes or decorating lawns, or testing batches of treats or… carving pumpkins.
Objectively, it was a crazy holiday, Halloween: people spent way much time getting ready for it than actually celebrating it. But Portgas D. Ace thought nothing of this - it was a very good holiday to have, thank whoever had come up with it ages ago - because it meant two things. One, free treats. Two, a yearly ‘one-time only’ permission to engage in reckless fun!
After grabbing a couple of ugly-ass cookies someone had thrown away while testing recipes for the big day and not worrying about how hot they would be in his mouth - the perks of being fire! - Ace spotted a pink-haired woman shrieking in pain as she, like so many others, armed herself with a knife and went artistic on a pumpkin.
Being a good guy but not a proper one, Ace did not hesitate in shuffling across the lawn to her, stepping on this or that flower in the process, and asked the female if she had hurt herself; her hand getting lost in his.
Did she know him? It was with a wide grin that Ace replied “No” as though the answer was yes. Why would she know him? Unless she did remember his face from seeing it on sepia frames headed by the word “wanted” in capital letters and captioned by a sum of money and a bunch of legal, official stuff.
“The good news is, you’ll survive” Ace bent his torso just a little and opened the blue pouch he carried on his leg. From it he removed a band-aid which he wrapped around the woman’s injury - just a line spilling drops of red, nothing serious. “There”
Send me Magic Anons! (or, Magic!Portgas) || @pxrtgasdace || Accepting
Aya had been waiting on the beach for Ace to return when a small cloud appeared above her head, unnoticed by Aya, and rained down some sort of magic powder.
However, the effects would be immediate as her hand would become engulfed in flames. Aya screamed and began to bury her hand in the sand, only to realize… it didn’t hurt. And with a thought, it was gone. “How….” She hadn’t eaten a devil fruit - besides, Ace currently owned the fire one! So how was this possible?
Standing up, she searched for a stick, setting it on the ground in front of her. Then, reaching her hand out, she thought about fire. About setting the stick on fire. And then, boom! Little fire balls shot out of her fingers and set the stick aflame.
By the time Ace would return an hour later, Aya will have experimented with several things: it seemed she could summon and control fire, but not turn into it, and she could still go out into the ocean just fine. So not a devil fruit. But still.
“Ace! Ace, um, look!!” When he appeared, Aya began waving to him excitedly - her entire arm on fire. “Look what I can do!!”
Having promised Aya he’d return with some sundries his female companion needed for their journey, Ace checked the short list the librarian had given him and wondered what even some of those words meant! It would have been easier for Aya to come along or for them to split so he could gather food and water but she had alleged she was tired and Ace, knowing that feeling better than anyone, had done the gentlemanly thing and asked her to wait with Striker while he went on a little shopping trip to the closest coastal town.
She looked positively radiant at seeing him arrive with kraft bags in his arms and Ace’s stomach felt a small butterfly fluttering inside, as though Aya had missed him so and couldn’t help feeling joyous about his return. It was either that or she really, really needed those items.
The third option - the real option - was unthinkable. When Aya raised the palms of her hands and shot two equal balls of fire, Fire Fist almost had a heart attack.
“WHAT THE FU-? How is that even possible?! Aya!” There was outrage in the way Ace said her name. As though Aya had kept the secret that she, too, could control fire away from him. But how could she if he was the one with the powers of the Mera Mera no Mi? “Aya? You can control fire?”
Aya couldn’t help but laugh at his reaction, a bright smile on her face. “I have no idea, um, how!” She called back, the flames on her arms going out. Once he got close, she let the fire spring back up along her fingers, watching the flames dance in the light wind. “I, um, was just sitting here when, um, when my arm caught fire! But it doesn’t hurt at all.”
She had been given enough time to calm down from her earlier panic, and was clearly more in awe and curious about her new-found power than anything else. “And, um, it’s not devil fruit based - I tried wading out into the ocean, and, well, I was just fine. I, um, can still swim.” She added, closing her hand into a fist and watching as the fire first spread across her first, then flickered out.
“Of course it’s not Devil Fruit based!” Ace’s tone sounded harsh but he did not mean to be be rude or scary to her. He just… could not understand. And he moved his hat back on his head just enough to get a finger beneath it and scratch the scalp as puzzlement dictated.
This fire could not come from a Devil Fruit. It was his - his own ability! It was known no two people could hold its power at the same time, as him sharing the Mera Mera no Mi with Deuce had showed. If it had been impossible at the time, it made even less sense that Aya would be living fire as well, for the fruit had been consumed and discarded and it had done more than perish by now, years later. If there were other fruits of the same kind, well… they wouldn’t change a thing to those who bit them, would they?
That was the only thing Ace knew - Aya’s newly acquired power could not possibly come from a Devil Fruit. That one option scratched out, what other explanation could there be? The true living embodiment of the hot element mused while his eyes watched the flames play and his finger did some more scratching.
“Well yeah, but you’re a mermaid. You don’t count” he replied to Aya’s comment on retaining her ability to swim. Whatever had struck her with magic might not work the same way for a human with no genetic traces of the merfolk. Then again, it did not make much sense for something that could replicate a Devil Fruit without being a Devil Fruit to copycat its weakness when it could be a better version of it.
“Jeez… I never heard of anything that works just like a Devil Fruit but it’s not one… Have you?” Maybe if Aya made herself think hard about it, she would recall reading about abilities and magical qualities alike in her books. She did have more of that kind of knowledge than he did.
Send me “Askbox Roulette!” to see what you get! || @pxrtgasdace
Sanji had a hand in this, Aya just knew it. why else would she go into the room to find Ace, sitting awkwardly at a table covered in a soft tablecloth, rose petals, two lit candles, and a dinner that was more rich and expensive looking than anything either of them normally ate.
“Ace…?” Aya was confused as she walked into the dimly lit room, watching as Ace seemed to grow more nervous by the second. Still she sat down across from him. “What’s all this, um, about?”
As it turns out, Ace can actually be at a loss of words and turn to babbling when nervous. Aya giggled - it was endearing, really. “It’s okay, Ace. Let’s, um, let’s just enjoy dinner?” He’d tell her what this was all about when he was ready.
Curse that womanizing cook and his swirly brows! Why and how exactly had Ace agreed to being in this situation where he was tight in his clothes and his saliva piling up inside his mouth?
Any other day, any other dinner and Aya would have it worse than him, because there was no way Ace could afford going to a fancy restaurant and if he wasn’t even used to honouring his payments when eating at cheaper ones, what then to say of the expensive ones? Aya would either have to run like hell or stay behind and feel humiliated at her date running the hell away and the looks she would certainly get from being left alone in her seat.
Now, though, it was Ace who was suffering, unable to decide on whether to choke on his nerves or chase after the cook first, neither option being of particular preference. As for Aya, she had no reason to worry about expenses and that was what Ace told her.
“Don’t worry about it. Sanji took care of everything” Indeed even the logistics had been the cook’s doing, a private room in a nice restaurant in exchange for one free cooking lesson from arguably the world’s greatest chef to the staff. Sure, it seemed like no big a deal at first but one minute after stepping in the kitchen had left the restaurant’s staff in awe at Sanji’s expertise.
It was all too perfect. Ace had never seen a dinner table so loaded. Likewise, he had never understood so little of one. Like, why the hell did he have two forks to his left side and a third one above the plates? He had two hand, same as any other human, and if anything they could only occupy themselves with one fork and a knife, tops.
At least having three glasses meant he could have three different drinks at the same time, which he appreciated, even if there was red wine in the water glass and juices in the wine glasses.
Once more, for Aya’s sake, it was a good thing they were in a private room with dishes already set upon the table and cloches upon the sideboard, or else she would not get rid of embarrassment at being professionally served only for Ace to mix his glasses up.
Sanji would certainly be in for a treat when it was time for Ace to tell his wingman how this dinner had gone, while Ace would be in for some ass-kicking at talking so casually of his piss-poor table manners.
After assuring Aya she had no reason to expect trouble, Ace pointed a finger at her in warning fashion “…and I’m not pulling a dine-and-dash!”
Scratch that, though, Aya. There will be embarrassment tonight… but at least no one else will witness it.
Oh, Ace… he seemed to be taking her words quite seriously, which would have been endearing if he wasn’t so obviously uncomfortable. Aya sighed softly, but couldn’t help the little laugh at his insistence that there would be no dining and dashing tonight.
He’d gone to all this trouble to set up a rather nice, almost romantic dinner for the two of them, yet he seemed more like a child who’d rather be running around and playing in the dirt than a man who was trying to woo a lady. And, perhaps that’s exactly why he felt so awkward. Ace was no gentleman, and Aya wasn’t a lady of society. She may have had those tendencies, once, but then she started to travel with the pirate before her and things began to change.
So she reached across the table, took his hand in hers. “But, um, the dashing part is the best part of the meal?” She said, hoping he’d understand she was trying to put him at ease.
The dinner was perfectly laid out, the drinks already poured, candles lit, but honestly? It looked more akin to something her brother would do to woo his Marimo, not something the boy-pirate before her would do. “Ace… you didn’t have to do all this.” She said, softly, giving his hand a gentle squeeze.
“I lo - I like you for you, Ace. You, um, didn’t have to go all fancy for me.” She said, hoping he didn’t catch that little slip up. “I’d, um, rather dine and dash with you than watch you try to, um, be something you’re not.”
Ace followed her, his awkward pacing showing how iffy he was. No particle of him was afraid of entering the place in the company of an unknown adult - if she was a nasty woman he would retaliate with his pipe, and his fists and feet as well.
Thinking about it, though… what if she was a cannibalistic witch who wanted to imprison him and fatten him up? Though no one had ever read Ace that fairytale, or really any other folk story, he had heard kids talk of women who kept kids on cages and fed them so as to get them fat for Christmas or some other special supper. Unrealistic as those stories sounded, just the product of stupid kids with a stupid imagination, Ace thought, it was not an impossible theory either and Ace had to remain alert and ready to fight for his life as he always did.
First impressions from the inside? It was a regular inn, no cages or kid-size cauldrons around.
At the next mention of food, the boy’s stomach groaned and roared like a hungry lion. There were so many things to eat and any and all of them would be welcome to Ace’s empty belly. Judging by the kitchen’s appearance, and deciding the orange-haired lady was no witch, he doubted she had any crocodile or bear meat the kind he was used to eating, so he really wasn’t being modest when he replied to her.
“Anything’s fine” Maybe she had chicken or lamb or beef stored in her freezer? There were meats considered regular or of normal consumption Ace had never tasted or that he didn’t get to eat as frequently as the ‘exotic’ ones. Anything would indeed be fine, and Ace couldn’t help hating himself for how pathetic he sounded, as though any old loaf of bread would do. While he had indeed browsed the trash for such a thing, to receive it in an act of pity from a stranger was different. He’d rather stay hungry.
For all her life she had mostly avoided relationship that were romantic, as she didn’t think of herself as one needing of it or rather worthy of being in a romantic relationship. If she was forced to be in one, she would chose one of her brothers, because at least they were on the same ship and she would then not worry about them. She knew what they were capable of and best of all, they knew her. Knew how her mood was and when to avoid her.
It was a thought that came into her mind, as Izo had hastily came to her, saying they needed her for a mission, where she needed a s/o. It didn’t sit well with her, not at all, but at least she could pretend and hope that the other they had chose to be her s/o could do so too. Hopefully it wasn’t Thatch. Even though he was one of her closes friends, he tend to be too dramatic and she wasn’t fond of drama like the one he brought.
She followed her friend to the meeting room - where the commanders and their captain usual held their meetings - and went in. To her surprise - not that she let them see it - all commanders were there too. It seemed that this mission was delicate and important. She would at least do her best to make it a success, though there was some they couldn’t force her to do.
When she was seated, she listened when Whitebeard briefed them on the mission, which was of importance of course. Haruta had been on a scouting for new territories that could help them with the large amount of supplies the crew always needed. However, when he wanted to negotiate, he was told that only women were allowed to speak with the queen and that woman had to be married. Not only that, she had to be married to a younger male.
Her eyebrow lifted at that. A younger male? For real? Who should pretend to be her husband? Her eyes then fell on the youngest person around the table. Ace. Slowly her eyes went to her captain, who just looked back at her, waiting for her to either accept or decline.
“I take that the freckled and charming firecracker will be my husband?” Her eyes didn’t leave to see Ace’s reaction, when Whitebeard nodded. “If Ace can deal with it, then I will give my best too. What else do we know of their custom?”
Briefings were no fun a thing but were a necessity. There were certain responsibilities being a Commander entailed and, while he’d rather be going into action proper rather than sit and listen, Ace recognized the importance of such meetings and, after captaining the Spades, valued his current rank, boring aspects included, for it meant there were people who looked up to him and loved him. It was his duty to take care of his division.
So it was a political thing. That made the meeting worse, still. Cutthroat missions were simple enough to be explained and understood, not requiring the same depth of thought political ones did.
Then again, ruthlessness had never been a trait of Whitebeard’s and it reflected on the philosophy on which he led his crew, more turned to protecting and upholding the ideal of justice than unleash hell on ‘Earth’. Ace respected his Father a good deal for it, he himself not killing or maiming unless in absolute need. For now, though, all of this meant a mission which required care, tact and no short amount of a calm temper, all three things Ace had trouble achieving, especially when the third needn’t much to kill the remainder.
It was quickly agreed that Ace would play the role of the husband. If the very thought of it was not enough to induce laughter, the look on Ace’s face was! Pretending to be married?!
Oh, but he was a good choice! Young enough and charming enough in spite of how big a lummox he could be sometimes. Or maybe that was where part of his charm came from!
As for his pretend wife, the choices were limited as Whitebeard’s son/daughter ratio gave the males a prominent spot on the flagship. Seeing as the first decision had been made for him, it was fair to give Ace the second one and it was in a heartbeat that he chose Sheila.
Sheila was his sea sister - there was no other kind of love he harboured for her. But if Ace had to accompany a woman, he would rather go with Sheila. They shared a bond started by a certain mutual in their lives and forged by their own means no one else could mimic.
Izo exited the room and came back a moment later with her. Sheila did not have to be too smart to figure who would play her beloved husband after knowing the queen’s conditions, but once again she proved how smart she was through a witty remark. Ace pointed his index fingers at her gun-like, clicked his tongue and winked at her.
This should be fun.
Knowing the Queen of the land required a woman to be married in order to grant her an audience, it was not a long stretch to guess Ace and Sheila, more than present themselves as a couple, would have to act as a couple and make her believe it.
Well… That might be problematic. Ace was not a very good actor. If all he had to do was share a room with Sheila or give her his arm for her to support herself on, or whatever married people did, their odds of being successful were good enough. He could only hope no further proof of being intimate with Sheila would be required.
Details on timings and travelling came last. Sheila, being closer to the door, was one of the first to leave the room.
“So what’s our story, wife? Did we meet at your cousin’s wedding or are we doing something more casual?” Needless to say Ace knew how to find the fun in political after all.
It wasn’t often she was on mission for the crew, she was more of a fighter and passive bystander to the more political stuff, but she knew her way around it too. Still, if they needed her, she would be there for the crew, she could play pretend, but only to some degree. Playing wife was, however, something she wasn’t sure about, but she could do it. She would have to ask Izo for an advice or two. Well, at least it was Ace she should pretend with and that wouldn’t be that hard, would it?
There were a few things that needed to be prepared, so she left right after the meeting, knowing that Ace would come to her. The smaller details were something they should work out among themselves after all. Fossa would provide them with rings, Izo with proper clothes - as if their own were not proper enough - and Marco and Thatch would help them with supplies.
She looked over her shoulder, as Ace spoke to her, a brow raised at his amusement. Not that she disapproved of it, this situation was fun in itself. Her as a wife? Ace as husband? She partly questioned the mental state of those agreeing this was a good thing for this mission. However, she would do her best, as it was important for them.
“Why make it so complicated, Ace? We met here and fell in love over time. So simple. We are going to represent Oyaji and it’s more convincing that you and I met here and fell in love.” It would also be less complicated to explain, if needed. She didn’t like that she didn’t know how much of investigation there would be, regarding their marriage. “We need to figure out for how long we’ve been married and for how long we dated before getting married. Also who proposed and how. The more detail about that, the better, I think.”
If this island was so strict with the rule that only a woman with a younger husband could speak and negotiate with the Queen, they would probably be interested in the romance between them. This meant they had to at least be capable of sharing some details about the other, without being in the same room. Good thing Ace knew more about her than most on this ship and maybe this was why she was chosen to be his wife.
She gestured him to come into her room, as she didn’t want to talk about details with everyone listening. After all, there was going to be some personal things covered too. Sitting on her bed, she continued to speak. “I hope we can convince them that we’re not the touching kind of couple. At least in public and that they respect it.” That way they could avoid the awkward affection in public. “What I can agree to do, is caressing you, like I do as sister, hugging you and a kiss to the cheek. I can accept you holding my hand, caressing me as you would do as brother and a kiss to the cheek too. How does that sound to you? Can you do that without it being awkward?”
Sheila talked of Ace making matters more complicated than they ought to yet to Ace it seemed she was the one making them more elaborate than his question ever implied by talking of calendrical and other details.
It was a good thing her mind was already travelling fast and going the distance, too, based on what they’d been briefed. Ace understood there was a need for more than fireworks in order to convince the Queen that yes, they really were a couple and not two people acting the part in Whitebeard’s name - imagine how badly their failure would reflect on Pops if their marital efforts proved unsuccessful. It would being him dishonour… Ace would rather die than stain his Father’s name in any way, particularly not because of his foolishness.
One gesture from Sheila and the Commander followed suit. Ace had never visited her room and, given the nature of their talk, felt he shouldn’t be there at all. Step inside he did, closing the door behind him so as to keep their conversation inside, but still it didn’t feel right for him to be in her room.
Shaking off that feeling from his shoulders, Ace found himself a seat on an empty chair Sheila probably used for her reading and, legs comfortably spread, placed his hat on his knee, letting the strap and tassel touch the floor.
His sea sister’s sequel to the conversation started outside the meeting room did not help him feel any more at ease, now that she was so bluntly talking of caresses and kisses. It did not feel right…! For Pops and his best interests, though it would have to feel, if only for a while.
When Ace spoke, his tone was not timid or awakward, but plain ‘let’s get down to business’.
“I can. Who knows, maybe we won’t have to keep up with this charade for long. Maybe the Queen will receive us sooner than we expect.” There was no base from which to draw conclusions from but Ace’s words, more than being the product of a personal hope, were still a possibility - and if there was nothing to say the process would be long and tedious, there was nothing to suggest it couldn’t be a brief affair, either.
Shifting a bit in his chair, Ace recalled Sheila’s previous questions. “So for how long we have been married… I don’t know. I’ll let you decide” He shrugged.
Maybe it would be best not to say more than a couple of months and add some more before marriage to make it a yet short-lived relationship. Looking at Ace, it wasn’t like they could pretend to be married for a decade or anything.
“But remember… you asked me” Index pointed at Sheila, the smile Ace gave her ended up a bit more flirty than expected when his intention was being sassy but that was unconsciously corrected with a laugh. It wasn’t like he had any intention of the sort with the woman.
“I don’t know, do we really have to weave a whole tale prior to getting there? I’m sure you can manage to get access to the queen just fine.” It wasn’t that Ace belittled the mission, not by a long shot, and it wasn’t like his head was filled with teddy bear stuffing, either - he could be prudent and wise but to plan ahead rather than dive into adventure had never been his way of leading life as a grown man. He felt figuring some details was in order but that didn’t mean writing an entire novel about it.
“I won’t screw it up” He said more seriously now. “For Pops I won’t. I promise”
Send me Magic Anons! (or, Magic!Portgas) || @pxrtgasdace || Accepting
Aya had been waiting on the beach for Ace to return when a small cloud appeared above her head, unnoticed by Aya, and rained down some sort of magic powder.
However, the effects would be immediate as her hand would become engulfed in flames. Aya screamed and began to bury her hand in the sand, only to realize… it didn’t hurt. And with a thought, it was gone. “How….” She hadn’t eaten a devil fruit - besides, Ace currently owned the fire one! So how was this possible?
Standing up, she searched for a stick, setting it on the ground in front of her. Then, reaching her hand out, she thought about fire. About setting the stick on fire. And then, boom! Little fire balls shot out of her fingers and set the stick aflame.
By the time Ace would return an hour later, Aya will have experimented with several things: it seemed she could summon and control fire, but not turn into it, and she could still go out into the ocean just fine. So not a devil fruit. But still.
“Ace! Ace, um, look!!” When he appeared, Aya began waving to him excitedly - her entire arm on fire. “Look what I can do!!”
Having promised Aya he’d return with some sundries his female companion needed for their journey, Ace checked the short list the librarian had given him and wondered what even some of those words meant! It would have been easier for Aya to come along or for them to split so he could gather food and water but she had alleged she was tired and Ace, knowing that feeling better than anyone, had done the gentlemanly thing and asked her to wait with Striker while he went on a little shopping trip to the closest coastal town.
She looked positively radiant at seeing him arrive with kraft bags in his arms and Ace’s stomach felt a small butterfly fluttering inside, as though Aya had missed him so and couldn’t help feeling joyous about his return. It was either that or she really, really needed those items.
The third option - the real option - was unthinkable. When Aya raised the palms of her hands and shot two equal balls of fire, Fire Fist almost had a heart attack.
“WHAT THE FU-? How is that even possible?! Aya!” There was outrage in the way Ace said her name. As though Aya had kept the secret that she, too, could control fire away from him. But how could she if he was the one with the powers of the Mera Mera no Mi? “Aya? You can control fire?”
How many pirates did it take to babysit an infant? That depends… How much did you love your kid? Did you expect to see them again?
There were so many things wrong with the situation that it was a joke. Pirates and babysitters could not be more different than pilots and beauticians. Besides, did they deserve to hold a newborn life in hands sullied by violence and death? Yet, there they were, following the baby’s parents’ reluctant departure, Law with his ears already plugged with wax well in advance.
Still, it was a baby. How hard could that be? Sure, they were programmed to scream and cry, and came with a multitude of agonizing problems and challenges. It was for this reason alone that Ace was with him, when the task could have been easily taken care of single-handedly. Indeed, Law never intended to spare the baby more than a minute of his attention.
Law was being a dick, even by ‘Trafalgar Law’s Standards To Being a Dick’. The world was indeed a terrible place, both men knew it well, but that was no reason why an infant ought to know it too.
This cold attitude affected Ace more than it should and in a way he could not explain. He did not know much about Law’s past but he knew enough to guess it had not been easy or pleasant, and of course he knew his own past too - that’s why it felt so bad to see Law dragging a baby girl into the world as they knew it rather than the one they should have known, with the softness of maternal flesh and a present father.
This baby had those things, two loving - though crazy, it figured, if they had no issue leaving their daughter with Law and Ace - parents, a nice home and she looked healthy, too.
Ace spoke nothing of this discomfort because he did not know how, it didn’t matter, it would open the box of his own misery and that Trafalgar Law couldn’t have to toy with. Plus, he couldn’t really understand his feelings that well and what mattered right now was the crying baby in his arms.
He held a grunt at having Law poke the baby - typical Roo, doing shit wrong when he decided to do shit - but trusted him to deliver a correct appreciation. He might not want to have direct contact with the baby but even he would not let a baby suffer due to negligence…. right? Right!
And not for the first time did the man in the furry hat make a comment on Ace’s glorious pectorals and nipples, making their owner blush and fume. If Ace were Anne, he (or she) would take a hint at the remarks and burn the bad doctor’s ignoble behind but, as it was, man he was, he could not understand Law’s recently-found interest in his chest even for jesting purposes.
“Cut that out, will you?” Ace hugged the girl even tighter against his chest as she tried to grab his necklace. “Why don’t you make yourself useful and fetch a baby bottle or go suck on something yourself?”
Law planted his bottom firmly on the armchair. Seated in the furthest corner of the room, away from the baby, as if it had something contagious it could spread – like love, for example – Law clutched his sword and reminded himself it was all he ever needed. Meanwhile, Ace fussed with the baby and put it in a dress.
Suffice to say, given Law’s cold and hard reputation, none would suspect the underlying reason he kept his distance. Many a time, thoughts crossed his mind: Goddamnit, won’t you let me carry it, just for one second. His lips would part, but the words could not form. Theoretically, Law knew what the baby needed. However, handling it was different. In that, he lacked experience. Bottom line, babysitting carried greater risks than being vomited on. God forbid, the baby instilled in him a yearning to become a parent.
As for the dress, the print was simply offensive and the color was repulsive.
Law pulled a grimace and marched to the closet. He’d already dug through it earlier to know what he was looking for, so it didn’t take long before he tugged out a yellow sundress, matching mitts, and a beanie hat. He dumped the clothes and accessories on the baby before stepping back.
“I like that better. Try that.” He made no comment about how unsymmetrical the ponytails were. After some humming and hawing, Law sat down beside Ace and the baby. “Seems like you missed your calling as a nanny,” Law said dryly. He leaned over the baby and stared into its eyes. “You think she can talk yet?” Law blurted his thoughts. “…Ass. Say Asce. Ass. A…s…s… Ass.”
Unfortunately, the baby had no idea what Law was saying. Still, Law would keep repeating those words unless Ace stopped him.
Apparently it took a fashion statement for Law to cut the roots his butt had grown and securely planted on that armchair by now and actually take an interest in their job de jour.
Scratching his forehead as to say ‘well, whaddya know?’, Ace followed Law’s steps to the wardrobe and watched him coordinate an outfit that was not that bad. If it was better or worse than Ace’s, that could be argued, but it was certainly better than what you’d expect from a man who wore what looked like a dead baby seal atop his head.
A tired sigh was his only reply. It did not matter that much what the baby girl wore as long as she was dressed and comfortable, not too cold or too hot, not too tight or too loose, and to change her clothes for no reason other than Law’s caprice seemed wasteful. However, Ace guessed someone had to play the designated adult during their babysitting experience and that had better not be the man with the dead baby seal.
He hoped the baby would be patient enough to let herself be undressed and dressed again without throwing a tantrum. She looked really cute in her diaper and new ponytails.
“I’m sorry, aren’t you late for your job as a fashion advisor? Making women cry?”
Thinking Law would actually contribute to society had been a fool’s hope. After making the clothes rain on the baby - to Ace’s annoyance - and sitting next to them he resumed his very tiring task of not doing shit, the poor man. Ace often wondered if Law suffered from a condition where, should he spend two minutes without spitting some shit, he’d drop dead. Just like that. He really acted as if it were true.
He was probably reaching the time limit before biting the dust for he tried to make the baby say Ace’s name as it was erroneously spelled on his arm on purpose, making it sound like profanity.
“Get your damned potty mouth away from the baby!” Said the crow to the raven. At least it wasn’t like Ace was cussing intentionally.
Now in her yellow dress, the baby girl squirmed on the bed and stretched her arms at Law. The gesture was adorable and suggestive enough - there was something of Law’s she wanted, whether it was for him to hold her in his arms or to feel the texture of his facial hair.
Too bad for her, because Law would rather keep holding his sword than to pick her up, seeing from his behaviour so far. She cried.
“You’re scarying her!” Ace shoved Law away and held her in his place. “Do you really have to be so ugly?”
Ace’s stomach growled for the twentieth time and, quite frankly, the kid was done with it.
“Stop! I said stop it!” He shouted at his belly and then spouted some profanity at it not obeying his order, as though his stomach was being rebellious on purpose.
In any other occasion, Ace would have quickly solved his hunger by hunting down some beast, either big or small, with the aid of his pipe, but, in a city, the beasts that walked on their rear paws alone were not edible, even if they did a terrific job at eating each other.
There were only two solutions to Ace’s problem: he could either steal from passerbys or enter an eatery, have his food and run the hell out of there without completing his purchase.
In the end, his two options were quite similar, as he would be stealing one way or another, but Ace guessed there had to be some difference between the two, as there must be some wickedness to pickpocketing that made it look worse than eating and running because you couldn’t afford your food.
One thing was for sure: little Ace would not beg for shit. Not for pocket money; not for bread crumbs.
“Just stop already, you fucking thing!”
Fortunately for the boy, fate solved his moral dilemma for him and it did so in the form of a delicious aroma coming from the back door of a kitchen.
Maybe Ace wouldn’t have to steal either of the already described ways. Restaurants’ kitchen’s always had a door connecting them with the street to facilitate getting supplies inside and taking the trash out.
The town didn’t look disgustingly rich but it looked alright - maybe if he checked the restaurant’s rubbish of the day he’d find decent leftovers.
While Ace was above begging in the streets, he couldn’t not be over rummaging the trash, though he would normally do it for valuable or useful artefacts and not for food.
How did the saying go, ‘one man’s trash…’ filled another man’s stomach? Besides, it was not stealing if people had thrown it out by their own accord.
Making sure no one was around, Ace jumped inside a bin, pipe and all in the hopes of finding some warm leftovers from lunch.
send me one of these chicks // drabbles or starters for mini-plots // accepting
Noah let out a small ‘omff’ as she lifted a heavy bag of trash and walked out to the back to get rid of it. All was normal but the moment she saw a child in the trash bin, that changed really quickly. Noah raised an eyebrow as she set the bag of trash down, unsure of how to take in this situation. “Ummm…..can I help you?”
He was out of luck. There wasn’t much in the bin except for hard bread and egg shells - Ace was clearly too early on the lunch trash take-out and possibly late on the post-breakfast disposal.
The bread might still be edible, though, if it wasn’t too hardened already.
“Uh?” A shadow loomed over the hungry boy as a bag full of trash was about to be dropped on him.
Strong as he was for his age, Ace would have been crushed by the bag were it not for the woman holding it taking notice of the little thief just in time.
“Yes, lady, you can help me. Scram! Can’t you see I’m busy here?” Rather than accept her helping hand or ask for food - which he was cheeky enough to do anyway - Ace grabbed ahold of his stale meal and brandished his pipe as though fearful of the orange-haired lady taking it from him.
“I live here and you are going through my trash, so I will not scram.” she said calmly as she crossed her arms. She eyed the bread in his hand and looked at him. Was he that desprate for food? Where were his parents? She never seen him before so she knew he wasn’t from around here. “…You know eating from the trash can make you sick right?” Poor dear. “Do you want to come in? Get a proper meal?” She offered with a small smile.
Alright. Maybe the lady was entitled to staying if this was indeed her patio and her trash bins. That didn’t mean the little boy liked the idea of her sticking around while he tried to gather his meal. She was just a nuisance!
“I don’t care! This is my bread and you’re not taking it from me!” Ace was ready to hit the female with the head of his pipe if she did a sudden movement to retrieve the stale bread or to force him out of the bin.
She probably didn’t owe much to Intelligence if she thought he didn’t know waste could make him sick; as though he was rummaging the trash for recreational purposes and not as a last resort to satisfying his hunger.
“I don’t get sick” He just didn’t. Never. But wait, was she offering him food?
Ace’s pipe was still at the ready, almost stating it was ready to do battle if the boy wished so, but her polite question caught him off guard, forcing him to wink in surprise and open his mouth in pretty much the same fashion.
“You… You’re offering me food?” Following the cue, Ace’s stomach groaned.
Stubborn little guy wasn’t he? Noah wasn’t even phased by the pipe in his hand, she wasn’t scared of it. She was much stronger then she looked after all. Noah blinked as she heard the groaning stomach, biting her lip a little to keep from chuckling. “Yes, I am. I mean you’re hungry right? You’ll need to clean yourself up first, smelly boys don’t do well for dinners.” she joked lightly but opened the door behind her a little more to let him in.
Ace replied a noncommittal “Hm” to both the question and the statement. It was clear he was hungry, otherwise he wouldn’t be inside a trash bin, only not surrounded by it due to it lacking, but otherwise dirtying his hands while searching for something edible amongst the discarded items.
Still, he did not want to admit it. Ace may be a little boy but he refused to be a helpless little boy. No one ever took pity or mercy on him and now not only did he not expect them to, he in fact preferred they wouldn’t. That was why he did not want to outright tell the lady he was hungry, lest she find it in her lady’s heart to pity the boy.
He also did not want to admit to being stinky but unfortunately for him, and Ace knew it well, that was the truth. Were his armpits or his hair all that was smelly about him he might have considered talking back to the woman. His clothes, very much impregnated with the stench, would betray whatever he said against it.
At length, Ace lowered his pipe but not his eyes, still fixated on the lady as if he could burn her with nothing but visual contact. She did not show any reaction to his best menacing look, making a ink tint appear on his cheeks instead.
One dangly foot first, Ace jumped onto the floor and boy and pipe marched to the door.
“I… It would…” He was having trouble finding the right words. How could he be polite when no one had ever taught him? Ace did not know how to do it but, and notwithstanding the grey mass of morals he could not store in drawers labelled ‘right’ and ‘wrong’ for the same reason - the absence of someone to teach him of such things - he knew he could not be mean to the lady anymore if she was offering food and a bath.
…though he’d rather escape the bath if that meant she would be around.
“You’re welcome. You know you’ll have to pay me for your Goblin Piss, right?” It was not very common for Ace to use words such as ‘piss’ in the presence of women but Raven was a woman who could handle it. He wasn’t exactly being unpolite, either, as insulting her bottle of vodka was not the same as insulting Raven proper.
In spite of his words, Ace asked for no money and did not even stretch his hand out awaiting coin as a joke. That bottle as a little gift from the heart and it was the minimum he could do for a truce and in order to satisfy that bloody magic!penguin who had joined ‘fire boy’ and ‘fire hair’ in a not-so-holy matrimony.
Maybe if they got along for an entire day or so the magic would fade away and Raven and Ace might once again turn to the bickering dynamic that some powerful force had decided would be the cornerstone of their relationship. It was what felt right and comfortable, at least from Ace’s perspective.
“Jell-o shots?” He whistled a long whistle of surprise. “Boy, you sure are one classy lady” Obviously meaning she wasn’t - but she was a fun lady, by all accounts. The bickering, if anything, made her so.
If Ace’s guess was right and it was some harmony what the matchmaking bird was looking for, his marriage to Raven would have to last a bit longer when there was only one tv set in the house.
Groceries stored away - and a significant part of these being the very same things a 6-yeard-old with a nice bill and a weekend free of adults would buy, though ‘adult food’ still made the biggest part of Ace’s shopping - Ace grabbed a jumbo packet of crisps and jumped onto the sofa, ready to watch himself some cartoons, unless something better was on.
Would his dear wife let him?
“Oh really? I thought being married meant that we shared shite,” Raven replied. “Ya didn’t have to buy the vodka, ya know.”
She’d spoken with a hint of a smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth. If Ace wouldn’t pursue asking for money to compensate for the favour, she wouldn’t give it. He didn’t even seem to be dwelling on the matter at all. Raven casually folded her arms and leaned her hip against the table, eyeing Ace as he spoke again.
“Probably about as classy as a dog fart, but okay,” she replied. “Maybe if ya behave, I’ll share me jell-o shots with ya later.”
And truth be told, she never thought of herself as classy. She was pretty sure Ace’s words had been tinged with joking sarcasm, but thinking about it, she was more casual than anything else. A woman who swore like a trucker and concocted gummy bear jell-o shots in her kitchen probably wasn’t the classiest.
Not that this bothered her at all, because it didn’t. She was perfectly happy being the way she was.
Humming to herself, she got to work. She had gummy bears and vodka, as well as some gelatin and sugar in one of the cupboards. And while Ace made himself comfortable on the couch–which she didn’t seem to mind at all–she started chopping up the gummy bears.
A light snicker left her. Ace probably would have given her hell just for doing that. But if she wanted her jell-o shots to have a pretty stained glass look to them, it had to be done.
The chopped gummy bears were dumped into water while Raven prepared the gelatin. The gelatin and sugar would later be added to the gummy bears. But now, they needed to cool down before adding the booze.
In the meantime, Raven strode to the living room, where Ace munched some crisps and appeared to be watching some sort of cartoon. She folded her arms and cocked an eyebrow, a smirk crossing her face.
She wanted to say something, but instead, she wound up watching the cartoon in silence, still standing where she was.
The vodka money was forgotten, as was Raven. Just because they had been forced to share a house and make a living together that didn’t mean they had to do everything together - the magic!penguin’s spell did not come with super glue. Bless.
From the kitchen came noises but Ace paid no attention to them, teeth busy enough with chewing and eyes fixated on the tv. When his wife returned to the living room, her sheer presence was enough for him to know she was present. Ace could swear there was some truth to his jokes about Raven being a witch, if her presence was that ominous.
“Done brewing your potion? Which one is it this time? A killing potion? A resuscitating potion? Wait, don’t tell me… Is it a love potion?” Ace gasped with feigned fear at the idea of Raven adding drops of such a potion to his beverage at breakfast next morning.
Falling in love with Raven? No, thank you. He’d rather take his chances with that killing potion.
“Any chance I can have some of those gummy bears?” He asked now with a stupid smile on his face, unawares of the poor bears’ tragic fate at the hands of the merciless red-headed witch.
Though he had bought them for Raven, he was still hoping they could share. After all, wasn’t sharing what marriage was all about?
Switch: Muse has to switch bodies with (Anon decides, but muns have to agree) for (Anon decides how long) || @pxrtgasdace
It was a calm, sleepy morning like many other Aya had experienced. She awoke slowly, but quickly noticed something odd. Something… something didn’t feel right. There was a body next to her, but it was far too small to be Ace, and had she gone to sleep naked? Her torso could feel the breeze blowing by, as if no clothing covered it.
Then she opened her eyes, looked down, and screamed a shrill scream. “ACE!!! ACE WAKE UP!!” Oh god oh god - what on earth happened?! Why did it look like she was in Ace’s body and not her own?!?!
After another restless night, Ace was strongly objecting to waking up once he had managed to fall asleep not long ago. Aya did not seem too fond of the idea of letting him sleep, did she?
“Go back to sleep” he protested in what was the bossiest tone he had ever used to talk to her. Didn’t she know how hard it was for him to get some fucking sleep at the same time as everyone else?
She was borderline hysterical, fingertips poking Ace’s head as she tried to wake him up. Seeing no light at the end of the tunnel, no chance of returning to his slumber, Ace woke up, partly tempted to get moody at his friend, as was his right.
“Alright, I’m up. Damnit, Aya, what the hell are you screaming for, anyways?” Maybe some bug had crawled on her mid-sleep or something.
Ace rubbed his eyes only to close them again and lazily moved his hand in direction of his crotch to give it a little morning scratch. It was enough to show how hammered he was, for he would never do such a think in front of the librarian, or of another woman, for that matter, unless during that post-narcolepsy hangover of sorts.
Fortunately, some divine providence intervened and steadied his hand just in time and with eyes wide open he saw the impossible: his body wasn’t his. It was Aya’s.
“AAHHHH!” His yell came more high-pitched than he could afford but, opening his mouth once more, it was clear he had kept his voice. “What the hell’s this? What’s going on?!”
It would have been funny in any other moment: the pair of them screaming like little girls, flailing around in panic. The sight truly was something to behold, even if neither of them could appreciate it. “I, um, don’t know!” Was all Aya could say in reply, voice becoming almost comically shrill.
Her, well Ace’s, hand reached out slapped the hand that had been reaching for her, well her body’s, crotch. “And, um, don’t touch me there!” Gods above, what had they done to deserve this?!
Aya sighed, taking a few deep breaths. There was no use panicking, even if every part of her was absolutely scrambled, confused, and most definitely panicking. “Okay…. okay… um….” Really, what could she say that would make the situation better?????
“I, um, something happened while we slept… To, um, switch our minds? Our, um, souls? Something…” Another deep breath as panic welled up inside her again.
Now that she was calming down, she noticed how… weird everything felt. Too big, too bulky. Too shirtless. And she groaned. “Great, um, just great… What do we do?”
“Wasn’t going to!” He managed to say in quite casual a tone for someone whose heart was still racing from the shock.
No shit, Sherlock. If they were still their normal selves before going to sleeping and had woken in each other’s body, then whatever was responsible for the switch had happened during their slumber!
Ace got up and looked at Aya. Well, at himself, resulting in his, no, Aya’s brow to raise with apprehension - even looking at the matter straight in the face and not give any thought at all was difficult!
The first question that popped to his mind was ‘do I always look like this?’. Ace knew how he looked like, of course, as he was no vampire for his reflection not to appear on a mirror and it wasn’t like he ran away from the artefacts anyway.
But now he could have a nice 3D look of and at himself and even boop his nose if he wished to. Realizing his body how Aya saw it, he remembered he wasn’t exactly looking at a duplicate and was, himself, trapped in his friend’s body.
Ace looked down, Aya’s breasts not obvious but suggesting themselves under her dress - and he grabbed the hem of the skirt with both hands as though to try how it felt. Somehow he felt more exposed than in every other day, even if he walked about shirtless and showing the bottom part of his legs.
Seeing Aya’s slender and short legs was not the same as looking down and meet his own. With reddish cheeks, he said what no one would think possible. “I feel so… naked”
His next impulse was to hug himself as to hide that small body but a better, more important idea presented itself and all embarrassment was forgotten, immediately replaced by a wide grin.
“Hey, can you turn around? I wanna see how my butt looks like”
There were three things Ace had not anticipated when coming to Drum Island. First, he had not expected to find himself in a babysitting situation, and how had that happened again?
Secondly, he had not thought of the fact the baby he was supposed to ‘sit’ might not be of the human species. Instead, it was a reindeer.
And finally, and the freakiest aspect of the whole situation, it had never crossed his mind that this particular reindeer would know how to talk - and human speech, no less!
“You talk too much” he stupidly said at being questioned by the curious fellow who, Ace guessed, must still be quite young judging from his appearance and weighing his curiosity, still very proper of a child’s.
He was such a cute thing, though, with those eager, shiny eyes and that original blue nose. How could Ace resist?
He crouched in front of Chopper, having learnt his name already, and noticed the flag between the reindeer’s hoofs, pretty much in the same way a human child carries a blanket around. It must be an object of great importance to him.
“That’s right. I’m a pirate. You speak very well for a little guy, you know?” Hell, the infant reindeer probably talked way better than Ace had ever talked as a child! Then again all those books around might be hinting at homeschooling, something Ace hadn’t had.
“I’m here doing pirate stuff” The pirate explained with a grin, like that was a good way of putting things. The story of how he’d gotten to Drum Island wasn’t all that interesting; it was a matter of where the Grand Line had taken him. “Seeems like I’m your babysitter now, so… what you wanna do?”
As Ace turned around to see his reindeer buddy, it was impossible not to noticet the enormous fowl coming after him and not just because of its size.
“It’s on fire?” How could the bird be afire and not dead? “And he wants to come with me?”
Ace waited for Moltres to land and lower its neck, at which he responded by setting his arm on fire and petting the Pokémon’s cheek. “Hey, buddy. You wanna be my friend?”
If it did, then the man had nothing to say against it. He was always willing to making new friends and have them come along. Plus, Moltres kinda looked like a giant barbecue chicken and how could Ace say no to that?
