#muselexum: eliza

[akagamiko]

❛It’s okay. You can let go.❜ // a dream or ghost Eliza <3

For the first time in years, he feels her hands on him again.

It’s refreshing. A relief after so many years without her. It made him wonder how he managed to live without her for so long. They should never have been apart.

It was fine now, though, that they were back together.

Her fingers brush through his hair and it's soothing and all feels right in the world for the first time in years.

❛It’s okay. You can let go.❜

The words draw him back and Shanks suddenly remembers where he is. There's blood staining his shirt and in his mouth. He coughs violently.

“Akane?” The question comes naturally. She's the first thought in his mind.

Was she nearby? Certainly she had to be. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he hears voices and feels hands on him, trying to stop what cannot be undone.

❛It’s okay. You can let go.❜

He feels her presence nearby, hears her sobs, feels her hands leave him as someone pulls her away.

She'll be okay?

Eliza looks at him with a sad smile. Leaving their daughter was a pain she knew well. Beckman would look after her, he told himself. Even if Shanks hadn't made his first mate swear on his life that she would be loved and taken care of, Shanks trusted him to do it.

She's as clear as day in front of him, her blonde hair framing her face, and he can't see past it. He reaches up, fingers grazing against her cheek–so soft–and pulls her in for a kiss.

Her lips taste as sweet as they always had and he brings her closer for more, leaning forward until he's sitting up entirely. Oh, how he's missed her.

The kiss comes to an end and despite the relief, Shanks and Eliza cling to each other, tightly and securely in each other's arms, and think of the piece of themselves that had been left behind.

[ meme tag. / @muselexum ]

#muselexum #muselexum: eliza #muselexum: akane #ANSWERED. #QUEUE. #PAIN <3 #shanks death be upon ye

[mediicusvitae]

Does he, now?

#{ dash commentary. } #{ I'm so sorry but...........cannot get that sketch of yours of their reunion out of my head } #{ eliza 🤝 lamy: having the hots for the dumb tall himbos } #{ I forgot 🤝 ray } #{ good for them good for them } #And I found love where it wasn't supposed to be { AceLamy. } #{ ic. } #{ crack. } #muselexum

[lunalyt]

At the moment...

tagged by. @muselexum​ tagging. @sunbcrned​ ;  @dutycall​ ; anyone else who wants to~

Marco wants to be loved

it's lonely, despite people constantly reassuring you. platonic or romantic, you crave to feel warm, to feel held, to feel worthwhile and to feel cared for. you yearn for that feeling, like a spot of sun hitting your skin on a breezy day. you want validation, love, from those who surround you. you aren't sure how to ask, or if you can. there's fear there, you can't figure out if they care, if this is love, if they're sincere. perhaps your shoes were muddied, during a long walk in the rain, and you fell, and you were muddied as well. you got home, finally, and washed off, but part of you still feels muddied. your past is not the present. someone loves you. reach out, and express that you need that love, and surely, someone will reciprocate.

Rosa wants to love

you keep this homemade soup to yourself, and you've made too much. it simmers, you keep it warm for yourself, and nobody else. you long to share, but you're insecure, or afraid. what if they don't accept the offer, or what if they don't enjoy it? what if they push it away? it's slowly boiling. you made too much, and it could overflow any moment, but you're trying to hard to keep it under control. you don't want it to spill out. part of you wants it to, but it'd be a mess, right? your heart longs to love someone, to express love to those around you, but you're afraid. you keep it inside, along with so many other things, and can't bring yourself to properly express it. it's probably someone in specific you want to love, but something is in the way, a block of sorts. let yourself love freely. share your love, for you have so much of it inside of you.

Eliza wants to be free 

you've been trying to leave for so long. something is keeping you there, like being chained, or locked in. in the moment, you feel trapped. your heart desires to feel freedom, and this could be physical or mental, or even both. physically. you may be truly trapped, confined in a situation that seems to have no end, or even trapped in your own emotions. you desire to let go, to feel free once again and at peace. there are ways to free yourself, all hope isn't lost.

Sabo wants to realize

it's been hazy for a while, the fog only thickening. sometimes, it feels as though nothing has ever made sense. you're stuck, and often, you can't figure out yourself. you hope to understand yourself, but yourself feels out of reach, behind a locked door. maybe, this locked door has already been opened, and you've yet to process the contents. or maybe, you're still figuring out how to unlock it. perhaps the key is buried deep beneath the dirt of the earth, far in your skin, deep in your brain and your heart. surely, you can feel it if you try. don't whisk away this feeling, the need to realize. let yourself discover, let yourself come to a realization. it's a step forward, think of it as so. are you aware?

Aurelia wants to understand

you feel as if you cannot understand. your heart desires to do so, but everything seems useless, or maybe like you've exhausted every possible option. you've probably tried hard, looking low and high. opening every cabinet in the house, searching every drawer, looking under every bed. you might've ripped apart whole rooms looking, searching for exactly what you need. maybe you feel you've run out of places to look, things to find, people to ask. the windshield is frosted over, and you're sitting in the car, waiting for it to melt on a cold, winter morning. it feels as if it'll never defrost, impossible to see through, no matter how much heat there is. be patient. keep searching. you'll understand eventually, i promise.

#( i feel marco and rosa's are so accurate for preskip? #or before they get with their partners specifically #bc rosa was afraid to express her love #and marco didnt feel he can accept tomoe's love ) #( eliza is accurate too bc she feels chained due to her powers ) #( sabo is def before regaining his memories tbh ) #( im not sure about aurelia but it also does fit some parts - esp with her being semi - immortal and all~ ) #( after wbs death she would feel very lost ) #･ﾟ ✖ mythical bird . of blue and gold ( marco ; muse. ) #･ﾟ ♪ angel with cotton candy dreams ( rosa ; muse. ) #･ﾟ 💀 daughter of the darkness ( eliza ; muse. ) #･ﾟ 🔥 a spark to ignite ( sabo ; muse. ) #･ﾟ ✧ she is eternal ( aurelia ; muse. ) #･ﾟ ☽ playing beneath the crescent moon ( games. )

[akagamiko]

❛ There’s nothing you could have done. ❜ { from Beck c': -indomiitas }

Most of the rooms on the Red Force were occupied. Shanks had given up his room to those of Whitebeard’s crew that they were transporting to Sphinx. He’d been sleeping in the common area most nights–when he’d slept at all.

These last few weeks had been too much. Between the disastrous meeting with Whitebeard regarding Ace and the fallout from the war–losing both of them–exhaustion had seeped deep into his bones, but there was more to do.The grief in the air was palpable. Shanks and his crew were doing what they could to ease the burden of funeral arrangements in hopes of giving them time to heal and process what had happened. It was the least he could do. 

Shanks wanted so badly to have prevented all of it. He’d tried. This is what he knew it would come to.

His own thoughts, selfishly, laid elsewhere, with the red haired young woman who slept below deck. He’d only learned of her earlier in the year and now that she was in front of him, Shanks found himself unable to gather the courage to speak to her. Surely she didn’t know who he was to her and whether that made the situation better or worse he didn’t know.

Unable to sleep, Shanks made his way above deck into the cool night air, and laid out in one of the hammocks at the stern of the ship. An unopened bottle sat against his hip and, when Beckman found him, the Captain lifted an arm in a silent wave, eyes not moving from the stars in between the palm tree fronds.

For a few moments, they remain in silence and the familiar scent of Beckman’s cigarette fills the air.

❛ There’s nothing you could have done. ❜

Beck said from where he stood along the railing and Shanks sighed. He’s not sure what exactly Beck’s referring to. Ace and Whitebeard? The war? Akane? All of it?

“Don’t wanna hear it right now,” he replied coolly without looking over. 

There was plenty he could have done in each case.

He could have pushed harder with Whitebeard. He could have forced Ace to stop. He could have visited Eliza in Sakuraki and found out about Akane sooner. It wasn’t like he’d never gone to the West Blue again. How had he let his and Eliza’s daughter grow up without him?

How had he let any of this happen?

Fingers twitch and his hand drops to the bottle at his side, but he makes no move to remove the cork from its stopper. He was trying to cut back–for now. There was too much going on for him to risk letting the alcohol do what it did best; it would leave him confused and his mind fuzzy, and it would dull the never-ending waves that ripped through him again and again.

That was what he wanted the most–to forget those feelings, just for a little bit.

“If you wanna lecture me, save it for the mornin'.”

He let go of the bottle and put his hand behind his head to relax again, unsure of why he'd grabbed it in the first place. Habit, maybe?

“If you wanna stay...I'd be happy with your company.”

[ MEME TAG. / @indomiitas feat. @muselexum ]

#ANSWERED. #QUEUE. #indomiitas #indomiitas: beckman #muselexum #muselexum: akane #muselexum: eliza #:) :) :) #anyway he's totally fine so nothing to worry about here!!! #alcoholism cw

[akagamiko]

❛Everyone I’ve cared about has either died or left me. Except for you. ❜ // Akane 🥺​

Their relationship over the last two years had taken many ups and downs. For so long it felt like for every step he took towards her, she shoved him ten steps back.

He didn’t want to go back to how they were. Things were good–they had stayed good. The pair had managed to bridge the divide between them and Shanks was in awe.

“Akane–”

Her words make his chest ache. He didn’t want to make a promise he couldn’t keep. He couldn’t bear it if he disappointed her or lied to her.

“C’mere,” he grumbled and pulled her into his embrace and leaned down to kiss the top of her head. “--’m not leaving you. ‘nd ‘m not dying. Not yet, anyway.”

But it was his job to prepare her, right? She had been through too much for her years (he supposed he had, too, in a way). That was what hurt him the most. Shanks wished he could have spared her all the pain that she’d been through. The thoughts that kept him up at night–the ones where Eliza had left with him all those years ago–had become less about saving Eliza’s life and more about saving Akane the suffering she’d experienced since losing her.

He’d wanted nothing more than for his daughters to have good and happy lives, ones untouched by all the terrible things that life had to offer. His intention all along had been to shelter Uta–as he’d wanted to shelter Akane once he’d learned of her existence–and he'd failed spectacularly. It was what he’d attempted to do when Akane first came to his ship. He'd been overprotective of her and still struggled with letting go.

Shanks pulled away from her, brushing the hair that hung in her face behind her ear and cupped her cheek tenderly.

“I’ll have to leave you eventually, y’know. –Never willingly, of course.”

No. Death would have to pull him kicking and screaming away from Akane. It would never be willingly. He'd been so sure of what he needed to do for so long, but ever since he'd learned about her, Shanks felt himself pulling away from death's grip for the first time. They'd been walking hand-in-hand for so many years now, but he didn't want to be another person to hurt her. He couldn't bear to leave her. Not yet.

“I love you so much, Akane.” His most precious treasure. His baby girl. His whole world. He would do anything to stop her from feeling pain ever again. “And I'm so sorry for everything.”

[ meme tag. / @muselexum ]

#you're not here atm but this was half written in my drafts and i still love them with my whole heart #ANSWERED. #QUEUE. #muselexum #muselexum: akane

[akagamiko]

❛In my dreams, we’re still together.❜ // epilogue gloriana 🥺​😭​

Kleos had changed over the years.

The mere notion of territories had changed drastically as well. Though the islands were no longer his, Shanks still offered his protection, especially following the immediate aftermath of Luffy's crowning, so to say. Kleos, in particular, he held close to his heart, which is why he tried to keep his distance.

He'd come by occasionally and had seen Gloriana over the years–though only briefly.

Though he spent a few years in the New World, Shanks had managed to eventually settle in Sakuraki beside Akane. She had done well for herself. She and Eirik, together, breathed life back into the West Blue island and had managed to make a grandfather out of him.

That had been pivotal in his decision to truly put down roots in a place for the first time. Shanks had found himself to be a rotten father, time and time again, but he could be a better grandfather to their children. He hoped that his actions now could make up for his absence in the past.

But now, with Gloriana before him, he felt a deep pang of regret.

Still regal, she looked...less vibrant than the woman he'd known. She had wed some time ago and had children of her own with the man.

Was it so terrible to think that he'd once had the fleeting thought of having such an honor. He'd remembered well that she could take multiple lovers. Maybe he couldn't have given her an heir, but they could have had one of their own. Or maybe even more than one.

Those were the thoughts that had led him to break things off in the first place.

Shanks could still recall the fear that coursed through him when he realized how deep his feelings ran for Gloriana. It was dangerous, especially at the time. Being the leader of one of his territories was a mostly safe position. But being his lover? His companion? A person he hadn't wanted to part from?

And what then?

If something happened to her–the way something had happened to Eliza–he wasn't sure he could bear it.

There were so many reasons why he'd run from her.

He reached out then, fingers brushing against her forearm, and pulled away before she had the chance to.

“I have similar dreams,” he confessed quietly. His gaze fell, avoiding her eyes, always so piercing.

“This is more than I could have ever given you, Gloriana.” He wanted her to be happy. How did she look so sad. This wasn't how it was supposed to end. She was supposed to be happier without him. Not dreaming of him. “You have a beautiful family.” Oh, how his priorities had changed over the years. “A kingdom who adores you.” He stepped closer, daring again to reach out and touch her. He missed her touch, her humor, her company. “I could never have been so good to you.”

[ MEME TAG. / @muselexum ]

#ANSWERED. #QUEUE. #muselexum #muselexum: gloriana #i'm still sad about them :( #shanks is so damn stupid i hate him sooo much #bro let yourself be happy

[akagamiko]

@muselexum  // drabble because I’m still thinking about [this]

“Walk away, Akane. You don’t need to see this.”

Her presence lingers behind him, Shanks feels her eyes on his back, but his are fixed down, staring at the captain of the crew he and his had slaughtered. The sharp edge of Gryphon’s blade was pressed against the man’s thick neck, a look of fear and confusion across his face. It had been obvious to him as to why he should act–Shanks had kept an eye on her from the moment she’d left, partially from the obligation to Eliza that had driven her away in the first place. 

It had taken a few hours and many drinks for him to realize his own wrongdoings. Akane was his–he’d always known it, of course, but his view of her had changed. She was a woman finding her way as best she could with a dead mother and an absent father. He hoped that accepting the anger she felt at him would be enough to make things right between them, rather than do what needed to be done and address it all–to address Elizabeth and what she had left the two of them with.

She had left him with Akane and Shanks had been treating her as a treasured item, one he had been terrified of breaking further, rather than as a person–as his daughter, a girl that he had loved from the moment he saw her photo on that bounty poster nearly a year ago.

It occurred to him that this bumbling, fool of a man before him, had no clue what he had done to earn the Red Hair Pirates wrath. Others would not know why Shanks had done what he had done. Why he had gone after someone who had foolishly chosen to target a former Whitebeard Pirate.

Shanks dug the blade into the ground, through the snow at his side, and the man visibly relaxed before him, clearly sure that he would be escaping death today. The man’s head bowed and gross sobs filled the quiet air. “Oh–thank you! Thank you!! I–”

Shanks clicked his tongue a few times, silencing him, and footprints in the snow picked up and grew distant–his crew had begun to walk away save for Beck, Yasopp, and Roux–Akane, too, he felt lingering, though she had turned away like had asked. It was fine. He wanted her to hear what he had to say.

“I need you to understand what you’ve done,” he said, voice cool. The man is blubbering again before Shanks could stop him. “Of course! I’m sorry–it–it won’t happen again. It won’t. I’ll retire--I swear.” Shanks wasn’t sure how the man had found mercy in his eyes.

“It won’t.” He repeated and knelt down. Balancing on the balls of his feet, Shanks took the man’s face and squeezed his jaw tightly and lowered his voice.

“Do you realize that you’ve put your hands on my child?”

His child. A moment passed before realization dawned across the man’s face--fear, panic--and he began weeping again. Shanks took away his hand and stood. “Please, Akagami. I–I didn’t know. I didn’t! I s-swear, I swear I didn’t know! Please believe me!” The fear was back in the other man’s eyes and, despite the delight at it, Shanks didn’t smile. He sighed and rolled his eyes. 

“Of course you didn’t. Why would you? Unfortunately for you–now I have to send a message.” His head turned, enough to watch Beck put his cape around Akane’s shoulders, she was safe and on her way back to his ship, before he turned to face the captain once again. He smiled then, tilting his head at his own question:

“Have you ever heard of a Blood Eagle, my friend?”

#muselexum #muselexum: akane #:):):) #DRABBLE. #IC. #his baby #a gift for you #because was thinking about how he finally viewed things differently #and needed him being This Way

[akagamiko]

@muselexum [ELIZA] :  ❛Let’s just stay here. Grow old.❜ //from Eliza >:) <3

[ANGST PROMPTS]

The time he’d spent on Sakuraki had been a much needed break from the anguish of the previous years. Between watching Roger’s head fall and Buggy’s departure, more than enough had happened to make Shanks think he would never be able to pick himself up ever again. It was nearly a year after the Pirate King’s execution, when he had been alone and scraping by in the East, that the Gorosei had reached out and located him.

They had returned Gryphon and even given him a few answers regarding what little he’d heard over the years of the Fearland family that he belonged to. They had offered him something–a place to go? Something more?–that he hadn’t understood then and had left the horrid Holy Lands of the world in a hurry.

When he and Beck had met, the older man had begun picking up the pieces, knowingly or not.

His arrival in West Blue, to an island with a culture tied so closely with his own family history, had helped him find answers he didn’t now he’d been looking for. It was where he’d met Eliza, too, and she had brought so much joy to his life. It was Eliza and Beck who had been the ones to drag him back onto his feet. Joy had felt like some far off fantasy that had been gifted back to him after he’d been in the dark for years.

It was how he’d found himself at the docks of Veflavik with Eliza, chatting idly as they walked. Shanks slowed at first, and then came to a stop, turning to stare out at the sea. The sounds of the waves and the view had captured him–it was rare for anyone or anything to steal his attention from Eliza, but he had been longing to go to sea for weeks now. Her arms wrapped around his midsection and put her face against his chest and Shanks pulled her closer and leaned in, resting his cheek against the top of her head.

“Let’s just stay here. Grow old.”

She had said it so quietly that, at first, he didn’t quite catch it. A beat passed and the words finally registered–his body stiffened in response and he lifted his head, not taking his eyes from the horizon and setting sun.

Here?

Sakuraki was a beautiful island–Veflavik a nice, if not a bit of a quaint, port town. A fjord town, he told himself. That was what they called it here. The people had been welcoming, and that had only grown since the Solstice. His actions had caused a stir within the town and with his relationship with Eliza. All good things. He’d been grateful for it.

But staying?

There were plenty of beautiful islands in the world. He’d been lucky enough to travel to many already, but there were others. The only thing that really made Sakuraki special was that this was the only place where she was.

Staying here, though? HIs eyes were wide, the little smile he’d been wearing before she’d spoken had vanished. He was horror-stricken at the suggestion--eyes wide. He hadn’t managed to look at her yet and realized he’d been quiet for too long.

His mouth opened but words failed him–his mind buzzed with a thousand things to say, but none of them seemed right. He’d asked her to come with him twice already and had been turned down each time. The idea of staying here–in one place, even with her–made him feel ill.

No–no, maybe this was a good sign. She wanted to be with him and grow old together. They could do that--they loved each other.

Shanks was slow to take his arm from around her and turned to look at her, his hands coming up to capture her face and he mustered a pained smile. There was desperation in his eyes. They loved each other and that love had grown. Maybe it hadn’t been enough last time.

“We can grow old together," he urged. "C'mon–you and me, growing old–out at sea." There was no other option. He wouldn't--he couldn't. Fingers tangled into the hair that hung loose at her neck. “Come on, Eliza.”

The pain that racked his chest and filled it was familiar. A growing dread of something, something he loved, and Gods did he love her, that was coming to an end. Love had not been enough to stop Captain Roger from disbanding the crew--it hadn’t stopped Buggy from leaving.

“I–I can’t stay.” There were reasons he couldn’t. He’d made promises. The Golden Age brought in by the fall of his captain’s head had already begun and he’d been here for too long already. He had things to do–a legacy to continue, one that he had no control over. One that wasn’t even his to continue.

The straw hat weighed heavy on his head.

"I--I have things to do. I can't." Would he stay? Even if he didn't have promises to keep for his captain and Joyboy and for whoever else would come along.

How could he even begin to explain any of these things to her? Shanks hardly felt that he understood the part that he was forced to play. He had no choice in the grand scheme of his life. Roger had always said something something about Fate. But whether it was the Norns of his own homeland or Captain Roger himself, it didn’t matter. Shanks would play the role he needed to. The role he was born to play.

Surely the Norns had brought Eliza to him, too, so how bad could they be?

The last few weeks had made him grow listless. He'd been sleeping less and what little he got hadn't been peaceful. He longed for the familiar feeling of waves to rock him to sleep and for the spray of the sea on his face. It was a sickness that he wasn't interested in curing.

His hands dropped, running down her arms and taking her hands into his. "We can do everything together. You and me, taking on the seas together. We--we can do anything."

She had called herself a liability last time and that had stung. "You'd be safe–there–" he was pleading, the desperation becoming clearer in his voice. "You've seen what I can do--you know I wouldn't let anything happen to you."

He pulled her hands closed and pressed them to his chest, atop his shirts and the cloak keeping the chilly air out. "Please, Eliza…. come with me when I set sail. I've been here for so long already, I--I can't stay for much longer." He needed to leave to set things in motion.

Even Fate wouldn’t be cruel enough to take Eliza from him too.

“She’s dead!”

The world had slowed in that moment.

“She’s been dead for years--”

Akane was a force and if Shanks was sure of one thing it was that she hated him. Eliza’s daughter--his and Eliza’s daughter--hated him.

“--and I don’t need you speaking her name around me again like you ever cared for her!”

But he had no reason to believe that she was lying about her mother being dead.

For years.

Shanks lifted his head from the table and was quick to bring the bottle of grog to his lips and chugged what was left. He’d struggled since heading to Marineford. Meeting with Kaido had caused him to cut back his alcohol consumption and he’d been caught up with helping those who remained of the Whitebeard Pirates. He had indulged twice since the Paramount War and that had been causing him great pain.

This was different though.

His conversation with Akane (hours ago, he realized--it had only been a few hours ago) had sent him into a downward spiral. His head and heart no longer ached thanks to the empty  bottles of rum and vodka and whatever else he could find that were littered around him.

Eliza was dead.

The bottle fell from his hand, rolling along the wooden table and clinking when it hit others. He groaned, pulling a leg atop the bench where he sat, and leaning to press his head into his palm.

He’d been so in love. Shanks had been swept away when it had all clicked into place that she had wanted to be with him. It had seemed impossible that she could love him back--that she had loved him back.

She had wanted to spend her life with him. They’d talked about growing old together that day, but he’d ended up doing that alone while she wasn’t given the chance.

The door creaked and Shanks turned, leaning his side into the table to better brace himself, and looked up at his first mate. Beck had taken over Shanks’ duties since Akane had told him off and had kept everyone away from him.

“C’mon--let’s get ya to bed.”

He stared, blank faced, and swayed as Beck helped him to his feet, sturdy hands at his sides. Shanks grumbled, the words indistinguishable, and leaned forward--Beck steadied him, his arm looping beneath his arms and Shanks threw his arm around Beck’s neck for added support.

“I--I can’t--could--couldn’t--” he slurred, leaning his face into Beck’s shoulder and took in a ragged breath. Arms wrapped around him and Shanks’ hand tangled into the man’s cape as Beck held him steady. He hiccupped, shaking his head as tears formed and sniffled.

He still had a promise to fulfill. Ace and Whitebeard were dead--despite his attempts--and Eliza was dead too. If he’d pushed harder--if he’d stolen her away--maybe she’d still be alive.

Luffy was alive. Shanks willed himself to be pleased with that--to be happy that the New Age could still be ushered in and that everything that had happened throughout his life hadn’t been for nothing.

Instead, he hiccupped again, pressing his face, runny nose and all, against Beck’s shirt. Garbled words come out again and Shanks whined. “--hates me, Beck.”

He wasn’t even sure which of the Filare women he was referring to.

#long post #ANSWERED. #muselexum #muselexum: elizabeth #oh boy he's losing it #this is what happens when you start coming unwound at like 15 years old

[akagamiko]

@muselexum [AKANE] : gets a drabble :)

Looking through the paper when it arrived had become his newest habit.

He had hardly glanced at them before. Beck would typically alert him of anything noteworthy going on and his reading skills had hardly grown beyond simple handwritten notes or the list of words that for supplies the ship needed. Now, though, Shanks had become eager to search for some mention of Luffy. Typically the kid had been making the front page–at the very least he would have a new update in the posters.

There was no sign of him and Shanks was quick to push them across the desk, ready to scour the paper for another mention, or a photo, when a shock of red hair caught his eye. It was difficult to find the color, his epithet being proof enough of that, and all of the history that had come with it weighed heavy on his mind. Centuries ago having red hair was all the reason the World Government needed to keep an eye on a person. He had found himself keeping an eye out for them now, for his own reasons.

Shanks pulled the lone sheet of paper from the rest and his eyes grew wide at the sight of the girl photographed.

He didn’t know where to begin–taking all of her in at once. She sported traditional braids and fur lined the collar of her shirt–the looks took him back to his time on Sakuraki. Eyes darted back and forth, desperate for more, for understanding, for something. An explanation. He needed someone to tell him outright that what he was thinking wasn’t outlandish. That his first instinct was the right one.

Shanks let out an uneasy breath, heart pounding as he looked back and forth between the golden locket that hung at her neck and her family name along the bottom: Filare.

That was a name he had learned to recognize years ago.

He could still feel the way he’d fiddled with the locket before he had gifted it to Eliza. Shanks rubbed the pads of his fingers together, feeling the etching he had carved into the back as though it were in his hand now. Every moment the two had spent together was crashing into him all at once. Late evenings and early mornings sitting at her bar, quiet moments of getting to know one another, confessions and tender kisses and laughter.

He still thought of her.

Not as often as he had when he’d first left the West Blue to head for the Grand Line. She had plagued him then, morning and night, asleep or awake. He could hardly escape her. Flings and one night stands in bar bathrooms had started a few weeks after he’d left, he had been desperately chasing those feelings, hoping to find an inkling of what he had with Eliza and coming up empty handed each time.

It had taken years, he couldn’t be sure of how long, exactly, for her hold on him to loosen. Still she had remained in the tattered remnants of the sail of his first ship and the golden rune that kept his lone braid together. The sail hung on his wall now, the rune she had left for him displayed in his captain’s quarters. Shanks had grown so used to it hanging there that there were days he would walk past it without a glance. Now it felt like the fabric was staring at him, beckoning him to come closer, but he couldn’t manage to look away from the bounty poster on his desk.

It was unmistakable that she was his. 

She looked so much like him that he almost felt like he was staring at a distorted image of his younger self. He could see Eliza in her too–the curve of her nose, the shape of her eyes–and the fire behind those eyes. Shanks couldn’t see the carving on the back of the golden heart that she wore, but there was no doubt in his mind that it was there.

He smoothed the edges of the paper with his palm, fingers tracing along a loose strand of her and then along her cheek. His gaze dropped to the bottom then, to her name.

“Aka-ne,” his voice was hushed, fingers running across the letters of her name, almost worried that saying it would hurt her–wherever she was.

All these years he’d had a daughter. Eliza had been hiding her away.

Shanks could hardly blame her. He hadn’t been well known when they had met, but after he had left, he’d had numerous bounty raises that he was sure she had seen. He had remembered hoping that she had seen them and wondered if they would make her think of him across the seas.

A rash thought came to him then: he could go now and head to the West and get his answers from her directly, but he quelled it as quickly as it had come. Eliza had kept her hidden from him for a reason. For a very good reason.

All the explanation in the world would not subdue the ache in his chest as he realized he was absent from another daughter’s life, but he understood. He could make room for Akane next to Uta despite it all. It wouldn’t be safe for her–for either Akane or Eliza–for him to set sail for Sakuraki to see her after nearly two decades. He had come to terms with Eliza wanting a peaceful life years ago, and he didn’t want to disturb that for her, let alone put a target on her back.

He was watched far too closely by the World Government to return to her now. And she had known that the whole time. Akane would have grown up safe and out of harm’s way in the West Blue, without her father, sure, but she would have Eliza, and Shanks had no doubt that she had made a wonderful mother–with or without him. Maybe she had settled down with someone. Maybe she had had more children and Akane had grown up with siblings.

He leaned back in his chair with a sigh.

The thought, as hopeful as he was that Eliza had been living a good life, that she was loved and cherished by someone, had caused old feelings to creep into his heart. He’d remembered wanting to be that for her all those years ago. There was nothing he’d wanted more than for her to sail away with him. All this time they could have been together as a family–the three of them.

The four of them, he thought.

He and Eliza and their daughters. Maybe he would have had more children with her if she had left with him all those years ago. Or maybe the four of them would have been enough.

“Damn–” He leaned forward again, grabbing the paper and flipping through it with new purpose. There must have been a mention of her here. This was a new poster–a new bounty. She was still fresh to the seas, surely something. Shanks stood abruptly, the poster left behind on the desk, but the news crumpled up in his hand. Energy pulsed through him--his hand shook with it and his voice trembled as he called for his first mate--

“Beck!”

#muselexum #muselexum: akane #muselexum: elizabeth #DRABBLE. #QUEUE. #idk where this came from but

[akagamiko]

@muselexum / BIRDIE asked:  Birdie was always excited to welcome new friends to Kuraigana. Things had become much more fun-- and funnier, with Perona-sis and Zoro-bro around, and so when a red haired man and his funny-looking friends showed up she considered it an absolute win. Mihawk didn't seem all too enthused at the growing number of guests, but Birdie made up for his energy tenfold.  She burst into the parlor, a playful screech erupting from her as a chimp named Monster chased her around the house. A black cape she had 'borrowed' from the foyer to play pirate flying behind her as she ran. [from her little hawk verse]

Visits to Mihawk had always provided him with many things. In their younger days it had always been the same--sparring and drinking. There had been conversations along with both, of course, but the two had seemed to have made a tradition of sorts. Dueling had always come first. The loss of his arm had altered the nature of their relationship.

Since the man had made Kuraigana his home, they had managed to find new traditions. Any more, his friend’s home had become a place of peace, despite the island’s gloomy nature. It had always brought an ease to his troubled and often anxious mind–both the drinks and Mihawk’s quiet company had helped.

It had been a shock when he had discovered that Mihawk had been housing not one or two, but three people at his home. Luffy’s first mate and the pink haired woman had been enough of a twist, but then he had spotted the child and he felt his worldview nearly spin out of control.

Shanks hadn’t had it in him to ask questions about where the girl had come from and Mihawk had yet to offer any. Her appearance had stunned him into a rare silence. He couldn’t put words to the myriad of feelings that had risen for some time, but he found the reason behind them with ease.

Akane had been on his mind since he and his crew had left Sphinx. They hadn’t spoken after their first conversation and he wasn’t sure who was avoiding who. Shanks had resisted the urge to return to West Blue–there had been no time, but he couldn’t help but imagine every scenario and seeing Mihawk of all people with a young girl running around had struck a painful chord.

Was Mihawk living the life Shanks should have had?

Staying in one place, offering a child a safe place to grow. Surely Mihawk must have had similar concerns. Sure she was safer here, under the watchful eyes of a Warlord, than with a Pirate Lord, but never as safe as she deserved to be.

The words are there–on the tip of his tongue–waiting to be asked. He wanted answers but couldn’t bring himself to ask a thing.

His thoughts are interrupted by the girl’s sudden entry into the room the men had occupied, Monster chittering behind her. His cape was wrapped around her and he felt his heart sink. It would have been an odd and maybe even a difficult life for him. He and Eliza in the West, raising their daughter, playing together; her wrapped up in his capes and coats. The way he had done with Luffy and Uta. The way he couldn’t with Akane.

Birdie’s yell, her laughter, was enough to snap him from what thoughts he was lost in and brighten the dark halls. It was enough to pull him from his seat, setting the glass on the nearby table, Shanks caught up with her quickly, with a hollar of his own, and scoops her up into his arm. He flips her with ease, holding her upside down, her small legs over his shoulder.

“Dahaha–!!”

He laughs, shaking his head and dangling her over Monster. “I’ve finally captured the wretched pirate, Lady Birdie!” Shanks gives her a small swing, and Monster reaches up, one hand at Shanks’ pant leg, chattering and hopping below her, though she’s just out of reach.

“Now–what shall I do with her, hm?” He grins at the girl, feeling slightly at ease that he could at least make this girl feel some happiness. “Shall we feed her to the dreaded, bird-eating chimp, perhaps?”

#this had to have a lot of build up apparently #gives this to you about both of your daughters #muselexum #muselexum: birdie #ANSWERED. #IC. #muselexum: mihawk #honestly tagging your mihawk too bc he ended up being a big piece in this #anyway man is messed up

[akagamiko]

a happy birthday drabble for @muselexum 💖💖

They had stopped on an island weeks ago, sometime after his birthday, in search of a midwife–though Breya had done a wonderful job ensuring Eliza and the baby were both healthy throughout the pregnancy, she had admitted some time ago that she would prefer someone with more experience assist with the baby’s birth. Shanks had been hopeful that he would find a midwife to join them for when Elizabeth eventually gave birth.

He had little luck in locating one. Eliza, on the other hand, had found not only one, but three midwives, renowned throughout the island for their work, and was further delighted to discover that the older women had ties to their shared homeland. However much they had adored the mother-to-be and her baby, it was amplified when Eliza had taken Shanks to meet them. They were captivated by his red hair, spoke loudly of the importance of the father being present for the baby’s birth, and then quietly of legacies and the future.

Whatever hope he had of leaving the island with a midwife had been utterly vanquished as they pushed the two to stay until the baby’s due date–to ensure both the baby and Eliza would have a traditional and safe birth that would be suitable for the family.

If Shanks had thought he had doted on Eliza since leaving Sakuraki, and more-so since learning of her pregnancy, it was nothing compared to how the midwives treated her. She wanted for nothing. She was brought fresh fruit and given balms for her tired feet. They sang ancient songs and recited even older prayers for both her and the baby and assisted Eliza with making a protection rune for the little one to wear on a piece of thread.

Shanks was sure that she had been enjoying being back on land; they walked together, as far as she could manage given her growing belly, throughout the small village: exploring bakeries and shops and surrounding meadows filled with blooming flowers of early Spring. They discussed names and whether the baby would be a boy or a girl, their home and traditions they knew of and ones that were new to them, and the seas that would take them further. It reminded him of the time they’d spent getting to know each other on Sakuraki and of how much he cherished her. Each day, the baby’s arrival grew closer, and Shanks grew more and more anxious– fearful that she would request to stay, or ask him to take her back to the West to raise their child, but it never came.

Months of waiting and preparing and he had still felt caught off guard when the day finally arrived.

Shanks had stayed by her side the entire time–hand-in-hand, whispering encouraging praises in her ear and wiping her head with a cool cloth. He wasn’t sure how much time had passed when the baby’s cries had finally filled the room–and the world grinded to a halt.

Somewhere, far off, he overheard the news that it was a girl, hears Eliza echoing them, sounding exhausted and pleased, but it was other words that catch his attention and he feels a heavy weight slam into his chest. Akagami. Red hair. The cries soften and he leans forward, watching almost in slow motion as the midwives clean the little girl and wrap her in a blanket that they had woven special for her weeks ago. His hand moves to grab onto Eliza’s in a desperate attempt to keep himself grounded. She pulls away and a small panic floods him until he realizes she’s being handed their baby.

Oh. Shanks takes one look at the small girl, bundled tightly in blankets and cradled in her mother’s arms, and swears he feels his heart stop. The pressure lessens. Elizabeth stares adoringly at their daughter and leans into Shanks’ side. Buzzing noises fill his ears and he can’t make out what was being said by the Norns, but he watches, frozen, as the eldest of the three brushes a long and wrinkled finger along the girl’s mess of red hair. 

Had the woman always been so old?

His heart was pounding hard, loudly, in his chest, his breathing ragged, and the world continued on without him. Could they not hear him? Old words fill his head and he feels dizzy–an old prayer–the three women look at him, their eyes locked–they looked so different than they had just a few moments ago, and–

“Shanks?” “Huh?”

He blinks rapidly, taking in a breath as he returns to the present and turns to face Eliza, no doubt looking stunned. Eliza stares at him–how did she look more beautiful each time he looked at her?--even now, with a worn smile and tears in her blue eyes, she was glowing. Shanks reached out to brush a loose strand of blonde hair from her face, breath steadier than he recalled it being, and she smiled at him. His other hand was outstretched already (when had he done that?), finger stroking tenderly along the girl’s chubby cheek. Had Liza really not noticed? Had it happened at all?

“Want to hold your daughter?” she asked again and this time he nodded fervently.

The midwife came to his side to help Elizabeth hand her to him, and as unsettled as he felt by the woman’s presence, the hair on the back of his neck standing on end, a wave of emotion hit him when the baby was placed in his arms. He’d been practicing for months with sacks of potatoes to make sure he knew what he was doing when the moment finally arrived.

She was so small--her head cradled carefully in his hand--Shanks can only stare. Eyes clenched tight against the dim but still too-bright lights of the room, nose wrinkled and face still red. He’s suddenly terrified all over again, feeling unsure and unprepared the way he had when Eliza had first told him of the pregnancy.

He knew nothing about babies or toddlers or children in general and now he held her little life in his hands. What if she got hurt? Surely she would--kids got hurt all the time, didn’t they? His thumb runs along her cheek, along an ear, and--Gods--he can’t get over how tiny and fragile she was.

She lets out a few small noises of complaint and Shanks' worried gaze raises to Eliza. He’s half ready to hand her back, fearful that he must have upset her in some way--oh, had he hurt her somehow?--but Elizabeth is looking at him from her spot nestled amongst pillows like he had done no wrong, and Shanks lets out a shaky breath, returning his gaze to the baby--his baby, their baby--and chuckles softly at the sudden tears filling his good eye.

“Hey there.” he sniffles, quietly laughing again, and rubs his right eye against his shoulder to wipe away the tears. His face crumpled. “Oh, damn–”

Shanks leans into Elizabeth’s side, pressing a kiss to her cheek as she stroked the girl’s hair with gentle fingers, and lets out a shuddering sigh. “They suggested the name Akane,” she whispered and he hums in question, a moment passes before her words fully sink in. Brows raise and Shanks feels a shiver run down his spine and shifts, feeling the eyes of the midwives on him from across the room. Though he’s not sure they’re even looking in the direction of the three of them. Were they even in the room? Hadn’t he heard the door close? 

“For her hair.” Elizabeth presses a kiss onto the baby’s head before looking up at him again, running her hand along his temple and through his hair. “For her father’s hair.” A thoughtful expression crosses her face, Shanks almost thinks she’s about to ask a question. “They've been saying how sacred red hair is where we come from... What do you think?”

They hadn’t picked a name yet, had they? All of the discussions had gotten them nowhere–Shanks’ contenders had gotten more and more wild, especially towards the end when he was more interested in making her laugh than picking one out.

“Akane…” He tries it out, and leans into Elizabeth with a grin. “You like it, don’t you?” He teases with a laugh. The baby stirs against his chest and he stills once more, pressing his lips together to quiet himself. “They’ve done a lot for us,” she confides, her attention back to the girl with a smile. “It is a nice name.”

They settle into a peaceful silence and Shanks finally manages to look away from the girl’s sweet face. It was just the three of them in the room. The women must have stepped out. “It is,” he agreed, finally. They had suggested it. Surely there must have been a reason for it.

He looked down at his daughter again, asleep, safe in his arms. For their sake, Shanks hoped that the Norns were careful and benevolent when weaving his daughter’s fate.

#this was definitely intended to be pure fluff but it got away from me #oopsies <3 #uwuwuwuwu #anyway happy birthday ily #💖💖💖 #muselexum #DRABBLE. #the one thing i've written in like two weeks ldfadfjds

[lunalyt]

what color is your soulmark ?

tagged. @earthssprout​ tagging. @sunbcrned​ / @muselexum​ / @breezecall​ / @astherea​ / @xamassed​​

Marco got Blue!

Seen as the most popular favorite color, and for a good reason, the blue soulcolor is admired by many, even if they aren’t conscious of it. Friendly, loyal, and always there when you need them, the blue soulcolor is a people person with a heart of gold.

People with this soul color are charismatic in a small way, choosing to speak as much as they listen, and take a genuine interest in people. They look past beauty and see the hidden soul under the skin. Loyal to a fault, they often choose to see the best in everyone. 

While they might not seem the type to some, the blue soulcolor is likely to fall into fits of depression and self loathing. This is because they have high expectations and hold themselves to strong moral conduct, and failing that moral conduct means failing other people. Even if it’s not their fault, they will choose to take the blame.

When gathering a group of friends, this color likes stability and harmony. They hold onto friendships from their childhood, even if their interests shift, and have a hard time letting people go. Changes in relationships scare them. They will be the first friend to show up at your house when you need them, whether they live a short distance or not.

Rosa got Pink!

Never short of affection, patience, or understanding, those with a pink soul color are energetic and respected. They are seen as nurturing individuals, and they attract many people who feel misguided in life. They tend to always find the good in every situation and inspire others to do the same.

Pink soulcolors are highly in tune with their emotions and the emotions of others. They believe all feelings should be acknowledged and dealt with in a healthy manner. They look out for those who don’t look out for themselves, often spreading themselves thin and crashing in the process.

While friendly, this color is introverted and shies away from social gatherings. However, it’s not uncommon for them to accompany a friend out into a social situation or be a wingman if needed. Their friend circle comes first and foremost, whether it be large or small, and they will attempt to make time for everyone even if they are spent.

This color is also drawn to doubt and question if they’re doing enough. They like to conform and know that they are accepted. This leads them to try and be something they’re not, and they often grow disappointed or disgusted with themselves should they deceive themselves and others for too long. 

Eliza got White!

Also known as the kinder soulcolor. It’s the rarest color to have as an adult.

Many people who glow white present themselves in an adult like way. They are structured, focus on maturity, and distance themselves from things that bring them joy. They are least likely to share their interests around people they don’t know and are afraid of being patronized.

This type is highly intelligent and appears to prefer being single than in a relationship. They are often alone, preferring not to bog themselves with unnecessary drama, and have no patience for those who criticize them or their work.

Despite their tough exterior, these people are gentle souls. They often express their interests to a select few they trust, and they spend their time theorizing about or analyzing things they enjoy. They are studios and curious, especially when it comes to what makes things work, and have a childlike wonder to them despite being so adamant to present as a mature individual.

Sabo got Red!

People with red soul colors are usually cheerful and active. They are optimistic and turn negative situations into a positive one. They are dreamers and visionaries, ready to aim high and achieve great things.

One thing this color is never short of is attention. Whether they’re actively seeking it out or getting it unknowingly, this color basks in the positive praise of others. Their charismatic and high energy personality draws people to them.

Often competitive, this color is always trying to outdo themselves. Perfection is a never ending goal, and they will constantly feel like they’re never doing enough. They’re always looking for new and exciting, often overlooking things that are a constant in their life and taking them for granted.

One thing that’s notable about this color is their explosive temper. Because they feel so deeply in what they do, they will often lash out when feeling threatened. They have a knack for saying things they don’t necessarily mean. However, it’s often short lived, as is their attention, and they will most likely forget about what angered them in the first place.​

Aurelia got Green!

Loyal, down to earth, and friendly. They are calming to be around and choose to listen and observe more than they speak. This type tends to be a shoulder to cry on in times of need, and they often take care of others before themselves.

When working, they see the big picture instead of little details. This makes them lose faith in their projects if they’re moving too slow or not achieving what they want.

Green soulcolors are emotionally intelligent, and they pay attention to body language and verbal cues. If you’re lying, they’ll be the first to know. They are honest about themselves and their motives, being the most sincere color out there. However, they are less likely to give themselves credit and often brush off compliments.

This color is people oriented and loves to be friendly. They also don’t like to stir up conflict, and they will often choose to go along with an idea they hate as long as it doesn’t hurt anyone. Since they are so loyal, they don’t tend to see the bad in those they care about.

#( i actually erased some parts that i didnt feel fit lmao ) #( liz was shocking but also fitting ) #( they are all so accurate ) #( this post is LONG ) #long post #･ﾟ ✖ mythical bird . of blue and gold ( marco ; muse. ) #･ﾟ ♪ angel with cotton candy dreams ( rosa ; muse. ) #･ﾟ 💀 daughter of the darkness ( eliza ; muse. ) #･ﾟ 🔥 a spark to ignite ( sabo ; muse. ) #･ﾟ ✧ she is eternal ( aurelia ; muse. ) #･ﾟ ☽ playing beneath the crescent moon ( games. )