#[ anyway ty poppy i am very normal ab them

[marinehero]

@akagamiko had asked: " 💬 + Shanks <3 <3 <3 "

💬 + a Name and My Muse will Talk About That Person

ლ. " What's there to say ? "   he snorted, a loud and ugly noise from somewhere deep within his chest. Urge to laugh louder staved off only by the way his lips curled in on themselves and downwards into a scowl, marring his face at the mere mention of that name.

" He's a pirate. No good filth, like any other bastard that pollutes these seas, "   words spat out derisively, filled with righteous justice,   " Worse than the other bastards !  He's an emperor and a brat too big for his britches. Enemy to the navy and enemy to the public. "

     Disgust and contempt colored his words, drowning them. Truth distorted by the years and the tides until even he could believe what only rippled on the surface.

     Belief aided by the way he could count on one hand the amount of times his path had crossed the pirate's in recent years. Ever since that day, it was hardly expected for the Hero of the Navy to bother himself with a rookie. Not when there was so much to do, cleaning up the ridiculous mess left by a dead man.

     Of course he couldn't. Wouldn't. At the time curiosity was different from interest. And if questions were asked here and there, regarding a young pirate steadily making a name for himself, sailing the seas with crimson red hair and strawhat donned upon his crown, they were no more important than other question he'd ask regarding the vast array of enemies to Justice. No matter what the tired and knowing eyes of his friends had said.

     He never did learn just how much they knew. They never confronted him. He never offered.

     What did a little bit more secrecy matter in the end ?  When so much was already founded on lies. And he'd never withheld information that was important. Merely abstained from reporting those days, all those years ago, where the sun had shined dappled through the leaves, his coat temporarily set aside in favor of fighting not pirates but laughter; fending himself from a young boy wearing strawhat still bit too big for him.

     Forgotten to, really. Just as he forgot to report of the time even earlier where he'd set sail, careless of imposed bedrest, the battle that'd forever changed the course of his life still burned fresh in his mind and on his flesh, drumming in his veins beneath bruises and various wounds. Forgot to mention that he'd gone out in search of a pirate crew not with intentions to capture them, but to demand answers instead.

     Telling no one of the way all his questions had died in his throat at the sound of an infant crying, safely secured within his enemy's arms. Of the way he had known, how could he not ?  When he was interrogated the moment he'd woken up ? 

     If he tried hard enough, he could almost convince himself that he'd neglected to mention any of it to his superiors, that he'd all but given his blessings for a pirate crew to raise a holy child, because he'd forgotten it all. Because none of it had happened. Because for all he adored and would gladly die for Justice, for all of his devotion, there were some lines he refused to cross.

     He'd been reassured to know that boy, that young boy who sailed with and loved Garp's enemy, was alright. Relieved, no matter how irked he was by the growing list of crimes. Irked and outwardly furious; yet nothing more than a play well practiced for the role he lived, regardless of the distance between them.

     But he'd been honest when he said the boy had been far from a priority, even as the years went by and the proud boy in his mind turned to a man in the bounty posters. Justice demanded far more of his attention for far more imperative threats.

     Until—

" That damn bastard, "   venom dripping, honest and enraged, voice raising as he rose from his chair with clenched fist slamming on his desk,   " He's the one who put Luffy on the path of piracy ! "

     He'd given Shanks a blind eye and he'd been repaid by having his birthland invaded. Taking from the people— his people. Dragging unwanted eyes to the island he loved and called home.

     It wasn't enough to disrespect him, to taint the soil that'd raised him, the red hair bastard had to ruin his family. His very own blood and flesh and for what ?

     Shanks had no choice. Garp knew that. It'd either been the life of a pirate, a cruel man, or death. He'd known there were no other options, as much as he liked to pretend otherwise. He'd known, and he'd allowed it.

     But Luffy had a choice, even if it was one Garp had to carve out himself. Luffy had a damn choice, and it didn’t matter how much they both knew his grandson would loathe the constraints of a lawful life, the sea untamed far too deep in his blood for it, because at least Garp could have protected him if the need arised. Because at least it was safe.

     There’d been a choice until he'd eaten that damn fruit that Shanks had brought and left unchecked. Had a choice until Shanks had passed down that damn strawhat and filled his head with fanciful dreams.

     Now Luffy was his enemy. Had an ever growing bounty. His colleagues were all clamoring for his grandson's blood and no matter how fiercely pride burned in his chest, it did little to rival the aching fear that claimed place there as well.

     Luffy had been damned at birth for the blood in his veins, for the sins of a father he never knew, and yet Garp had tried. Only for Shanks to have taken Luffy from him and hammered the final nail in his grandson's coffin.

" And Ace— "   name slipping out without his permission, emotions he couldn't begin to parse twisting within his chest,   " If he'd been there a couple minutes quicker— "

     Resentment unearned, perhaps, but he couldn't help himself. Shanks had been there, been so damn close. The bastard could have been there in time, done what he couldn't. Didn't. Too old and wretched and weak to have done what his heart and yelled for. Shanks could he saved Ace where he'd failed to and Garp wasn't sure if he could ever forgive either of them for it.

     But Shanks had saved Koby. He'd prevented further blood from being spilled, staining his aged hands. Shanks hadn't saved Ace, but he'd saved Koby.

     Grateful for that much. Hated being grateful for it.

     If only Roger could see the two of them now, whispered thought raising head unbidden, failing his fight against thinking about the dead fool.

     If only. Would he laugh ?  It seemed like a thing Roger would do. Laugh at how foolish Garp was acting while wearing that obnoxious smile of his. Laugh at Shanks and hold him, because if there was one thing he knew about Roger, it was that he'd loved the red hair brat as true as his own. Roger would have laughed at them both, and then his grief would've razed the world to the ground and be started anew.

     In another life, Ace and Shanks would have grown up knowing each other, becoming as close as brothers. Garp could have hunted and chased after those children all he'd been commanded to and have known with unwavering certainty that he and nothing else would be able to harm them, protected by Roger's light.

     In another life, Roger would have chosen any other idiot to look after his unborn son. None of it would have ever been his responsibility and Garp could have continued his life as a proud Marine. Shanks would have become a memory and his eyes would have stayed dry during the Summit War. Or maybe the war would have never happened, prevented by a guardian far better.

     In another life, Garp would have been strong enough to have saved Ace himself. Spitting in Shanks's face, yet turning his back from the life he'd built over the decades in the shadow of Justice, running away upon the Red Hair's ship with his grandchildren in his arms. Butting heads and arguing and making peace with the bastard after so many years of hate.

" Red Hair Shanks is a pirate, "   he repeated, bitterness remaining but spoken more carefully, collecting himself and slumping back down onto his chair with a scoff that sounded more like a sigh,   " He's the enemy and a damn bastard. Hated and feared by the public. What else is there to say. "

     If only hate was all he felt towards the brat. If only the Sea hadn't damned him. Damned the both of them. Sigh falling out, hand wearily rubbing at his face. Dammit all. He was getting too old for what if's.