Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Portgas D. Archer stood by the small, tattered bed, fists clenched, his golden eyes blazing with a mix of fury and helplessness. Rouge lay before him, pale and frail, sweat dampening her once vibrant blonde hair. Her breathing was shallow, each breath an agony she barely endured. Archer couldn’t remember the last time he had seen his older sister like this—broken, fragile.

She was always the strong one.

“Archer… come closer,” Rouge’s voice was barely a whisper, but it carried the weight of a dying plea. He knelt beside her, unable to stop the tears welling up in his eyes, though he fought to hold them back.

"You can’t leave me!" The words erupted from him, his voice raw with anger and grief. “You’re all I’ve got, Rouge! You can’t—" His throat tightened, choking on the words. She had been his world, his shield. His parents had been nothing but distant memories, gone before he even understood their absence. Rouge had raised him, protected him, and now, now she was leaving him, too.

Her trembling hand reached out, brushing against his cheek. “Listen to me, Archer… listen.” Her tone was soft but commanding, the same way she’d always spoken to him when he’d lost control, flying into one of his infamous rages.

Archer clenched his jaw and nodded, biting down on his lip so hard he tasted blood. His whole body trembled, every muscle screaming with frustration, with the sheer impossibility of the moment. He hated this. Hated feeling so damn weak.

Rouge’s voice grew weaker, each word costing her more strength than she had left. "Ace… he’s everything that’s left of Roger. Of me."

"Roger’s dead!" Archer spat bitterly. “Executed by those bastards. And now you’re—” His voice broke, and he looked away, golden eyes burning with tears that refused to fall.

Rouge’s hand tightened, weakly but deliberately. "Promise me. Promise me, Archer… you’ll protect him. Our family—” She paused to catch her breath, her chest rising painfully slow. “The world will come for him. The bloodline of the D. You know what that means. The Navy, the World Government… they’ll never stop."

His throat tightened, eyes stinging with more tears. “I’ll protect him. I swear it. I’ll tear apart anyone who tries to take him.”

Rouge smiled faintly, her lips barely curving. “Good… you always were the stubborn one.” Her eyes fluttered closed for a moment before they opened once more, and this time, they softened. "There’s… one more thing."

"Anything." Archer was barely holding himself together now, rage and sorrow twisting inside him like an unstoppable storm.

"In the chest… in the living room… there’s a blanket," Rouge whispered. "I made it for Ace. Bring it to him. Keep him warm, safe… when I’m gone."

Archer nodded, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand, biting back the sob that threatened to escape. He stood quickly, too quickly, rushing to the chest as if by moving faster, he could stop time from stealing her away.

The chest creaked open, revealing a neatly folded blanket—a soft, woven thing with intricate patterns, stitched by Rouge’s trembling hands in the last months of her life. Archer’s hands shook as he reached for it, holding it as if it were more than just cloth, as if it were her final gift to her son.

When he turned back to the bedroom, his heart sank.

Rouge was still. Too still.

“No… no, no, no!” Archer rushed to her side, dropping the blanket. His hands gripped her shoulders, shaking her gently, then harder, desperation tightening his grip. “Rouge!” His voice cracked, louder now, full of raw panic. “Don’t do this to me! You can’t leave me! You promised—you promised me!”

But she was gone.

The tears came now, freely, hot and furious, burning his face as he screamed into the quiet room. For a moment, the world stood still, broken by the grief that clawed at his chest, his rage swirling inside him, ready to explode.

And then it hit him—Ace.

Archer's breath hitched. His eyes darted around the room. The crib, once beside Rouge's bed, was empty. A sickening realization settled in his gut like a punch to the stomach. Ace was gone.

Someone had taken him. Someone had stolen his nephew.

In the silence that followed, Archer heard the faintest of whispers—voices outside the house. Marines. He heard the name—Garp. Vice Admiral Garp had been spotted near the house. Rumors flew quickly in the nearby village; they always did.

Archer’s mind raced, heart pounding in his ears. His body shook, but now it wasn’t grief that fueled him. It was rage. A white-hot fury that coursed through him like fire. He grabbed the haladies that had once belonged to his father, its twin blades glinting menacingly in the dim light.

“I’ll find you, Ace. I swear it,” Archer growled, voice low and dangerous. “And when I do, I’ll make them all pay.”

Without another moment’s hesitation, Archer grabbed a bag, stuffing the blanket inside along with a few essentials. His hand lingered on the doorframe of the home he and Rouge had shared, his vision blurring as his fists clenched. But there was no time for goodbyes. There was only action now.

Archer stood at the docks of a small, forgotten island, bartering with a grizzled, unimpressed ship captain. His golden eyes, though still fierce, carried a weight that hadn’t been there before.

“You lookin’ to run from somethin’, kid?” the captain asked, raising an eyebrow.

Archer’s lip curled into a snarl. “Not running. Chasing.”

The captain looked him up and down. “You don’t seem like the patient kind. Why should I let you aboard?”

Archer’s hand tightened around the hilt of his haladie. “Because I’ve got something to settle. And I’ll pay whatever price it takes.”

The captain hesitated for a second, then nodded toward the ship. “We leave at dawn. Get on board or get left behind.”

Archer didn’t respond. He was already halfway up the ramp, mind locked on one thing—finding Garp.

He would tear the sea apart if he had to. Island by island, he’d search. And when he found Garp—when—there would be hell to pay.

For Rouge. For Ace.

For the bloodline of the D.

Shit was tough. No one cared about a little boy with a chip on his shoulder. But like Archer gave a flying fuck about them.

He wasn’t looking for sympathy. He wasn’t looking for help. All he needed was a lead—a whisper, a trace of Garp’s whereabouts. And if people wouldn’t give it to him? Well, they could choke on their own damned ignorance.

Archer had made Rouge a promise. And he’d keep it, no matter what. Stealing and hustling became second nature. A necessity. Life didn’t give a shit about the weak, and neither did he. His sister had died protecting her son, so Archer had no problem doing what he had to in order to find Ace.

Stealth was paramount. He was quick, sharp, like a shadow with purpose. He hadn’t survived by being some idiot thug who swung a blade for sport. He killed when it mattered, and only when it mattered. His hands—once clean, now soaked in blood—had been forced to become those of a killer.

Not that he lost any sleep over it.

He could still feel the slickness of blood on his hands, the warmth of it as it dripped down his fingers after a knife plunged into the side of a Marine officer. He could hear the desperate, gasping breaths of those fools who thought he was an easy mark. They never saw it coming. A boy—no, a kid—traveling alone? Easy prey, they thought.

They were wrong. Dead wrong.

Archer sat now at the edge of a small, rundown dock on an unnamed island, the wood creaking beneath him as the faint scent of salt water and sweat filled the air. He wiped his haladie clean on his pants, the blood smearing across the fabric. His golden eyes flicked out toward the sea, sharp as ever, but inside, he was already miles away.

He thought about Rouge every day. That hollow ache, the one he tried so hard to ignore, gnawed at his insides like a beast that couldn’t be satisfied. It drove him forward, even when his body wanted to collapse from exhaustion, even when his stomach growled with hunger he couldn’t sate.

He could hear her voice sometimes, faint and far away, reminding him of the promise. Of Ace. She was the only thing keeping him tethered to this world, her memory stronger than any blade he carried. She had sacrificed everything for Ace. Archer had to do the same.

I’ll protect him, Rouge. I swear it.

“Oi, kid!” A gruff voice interrupted his thoughts, snapping him back to the present. The ship’s captain, an old bastard with a missing tooth and a permanent scowl, approached, wiping his greasy hands on his trousers. “You’re good for the passage, but don’t expect any special treatment. We ain’t running no charity here.”

Archer narrowed his eyes, pocketing his blades and standing up, his muscles taut with tension. He didn’t respond to the captain’s jab, didn’t even blink as the man looked him over, sizing him up again like he had when they’d first met.

“Got it?” the captain growled, leaning in slightly, trying to impose his authority.

Archer’s golden eyes met his, cold and unflinching. "Like I give a shit."

The captain snorted but wisely chose to walk away. Archer’s hand brushed against the hilt of his haladie, his fingers tapping against the worn metal, a reminder that he could settle things if they got messy. But for now, he needed the ship.

Islands had come and gone, each one blending into the next—each filled with the same disappointment, the same lack of information. Marines were tight-lipped. Civilians even tighter. Garp’s name was whispered like a ghost in the wind, always slipping through his fingers.

But Archer had ways of loosening lips.

Blood and fear—they were universal languages, and he spoke them fluently. Marines didn’t scare him. Nothing scared him, except maybe failing Rouge. Failing Ace.

He had killed for information before. Sometimes it wasn’t even necessary, but the rage inside him demanded an outlet. It would gnaw at his chest until his fingers twitched around his blades, until he felt the satisfying snap of bone or the wet gurgle of a throat silenced by a quick, precise strike.

The first time he killed a Marine, he hadn’t felt anything. He expected guilt, maybe regret, but there was just… nothing. The man had looked at him like he was nothing more than a pest. A nuisance. So Archer had gutted him, quick and brutal, with no more thought than swatting a fly.

Now it was just routine. Information for blood. Scum who crossed him didn’t live long enough to make the same mistake twice.

“Oi, you deaf? I’m talking to you!”

Archer turned his head slowly, golden eyes locking onto the crewman who had approached him. The man, young and brash, had a crooked grin plastered across his face. He had the swagger of someone who had never faced real danger. Archer didn’t move. Didn’t blink.

“You’re supposed to be helpin’ unload the cargo,” the crewman sneered. “You think you’re special, sittin’ on your ass?”

A twitch. Just a small one, in Archer’s fingers. His temper was dangerously close to snapping, a coiled spring ready to explode.

"I’m not here to work for you," Archer muttered, standing up from his spot, eyes still cold. "I paid for passage. That’s it. You want a workhorse, find someone else."

The crewman’s grin faded, replaced by an irritated scowl. “You little shit—”

The last word didn’t even fully escape his lips before Archer moved. He was fast—faster than any kid his age had the right to be. His hand snapped out, grabbing the crewman by the throat, slamming him against the nearest wall.

The man gasped, his eyes wide with shock. Archer’s grip was like iron, his fingers digging in just enough to let the crewman feel his intent.

“I said,” Archer growled through gritted teeth, his face inches from the man’s, “I don’t give a shit about you or your crew. If you touch me again, you’ll regret it.”

The man’s face paled, his bravado crumbling as he choked out a stammered apology. Archer released him, stepping back slowly, eyes still fixed on his prey.

“Remember that,” Archer spat before walking away, his heart pounding, rage simmering just beneath the surface. The crewman scrambled to his feet, eyes wide with fear, too stunned to retaliate.

Archer wasn’t afraid of scum like him. He wasn’t afraid of anything anymore.

Except maybe that he’d never find Ace.

But I will, he thought, his jaw clenching as he looked out toward the horizon. Even if I have to tear this world apart.

Chapter Text

Time had lost its meaning.

The days blurred together like the shifting tides beneath Archer’s feet, the sun rising and setting with cruel indifference. Now thirteen years old, the boy who once screamed at the world had become something harder, sharper. His golden hair, longer now and slightly curly, framed a face that held no warmth, only grim determination.

Two years. Two years of wandering from island to island, from South Blue to West Blue, and now East Blue. Two years of tracking every rumor, following every lead that hinted at Vice Admiral Garp. Two years of failure.

Ace was two years old now—if he was alive.

That thought haunted Archer’s every step. The promise he had made to Rouge weighed heavy on him, a constant reminder of his failure. He hadn’t saved his sister. He hadn’t protected Ace. He was supposed to be the protector, the one who made things right. But all he had done was spill blood, leave a trail of bodies behind him, and still—still—he had nothing.

His muscles ached from constant travel and fighting, lean and defined from years of survival, though he was far from bulky. At almost 1.80 meters, he was tall for his age, and his frame, though wiry, was strong, tempered like steel. His golden eyes, once burning with boyish anger, now held a sharper, more controlled fury. Time had hardened him. No longer the reckless child, Archer was now a weapon, honed for a singular purpose.

And yet, here he was, playing poker in a dingy tavern on a nameless island in East Blue.

The air was thick with smoke and the stench of alcohol, the dim light casting shadows across the faces of the pirates he sat with. His cards, hidden carefully in his hand, told a story he had written himself—one of deception and manipulation. He was a cheater, and a damn good one.

Across from him, the pirates grinned like sharks circling prey, confident in their hand, confident that this little punk had no idea what he was getting himself into. They were wrong.

Archer’s golden eyes flicked over to the small chest sitting on the table between them. The prize. A Devil Fruit. No one knew what kind, but the fact that it was even in this hole of a tavern spoke volumes about how little these idiots understood what they had. What a stupid move to bet something so valuable.

Idiots.

The pirate across from him, a hulking brute with a jagged scar running down his cheek, leaned forward, tossing a handful of gold coins onto the pile. His grin was full of missing teeth, and his eyes gleamed with greed. “You sure you wanna go all in, kid? This ain’t no game for little boys.”

Archer didn’t flinch. He leaned back in his chair, his golden hair falling into his eyes as he lazily pushed all of his chips into the center of the table. “I don’t play games I don’t win.” His voice was calm, cool, a stark contrast to the tension filling the room.

The pirates exchanged glances, the air thick with unspoken challenge. They couldn’t figure him out. He was young, too young to be this confident, this composed. But there was something in his eyes, something dangerous.

The brute laughed, the sound low and menacing. “You’ve got guts, I’ll give ya that. But guts ain’t gonna save you from losin’ everything.” He slammed his cards on the table. “Full house. Looks like you’re walkin’ outta here with nothin’, boy.”

Archer raised an eyebrow, glancing at the cards laid out before him. A full house. Not bad. Not good enough.

Without a word, he laid his cards down with deliberate slowness, one by one, letting the tension build. “Royal flush.”

The room went silent. The brute’s face twisted in disbelief, his eyes darting from the cards to Archer’s calm, infuriating smirk.

“You cheated!” one of the other pirates shouted, slamming his fist on the table.

Archer shrugged, his fingers already brushing against the hilt of his haladie under the table. “Maybe I did. Maybe I didn’t. Either way, the pot’s mine.”

The brute stood, knocking his chair back, towering over Archer with murder in his eyes. “You little shit! You think you can walk in here, cheat us, and just—”

Archer moved before the pirate could finish his sentence. The haladie was out in a flash, its twin blades gleaming as they pressed against the brute’s throat, stopping him dead in his tracks. The pirate froze, his eyes wide with shock.

“I think you’re done talking,” Archer said, his voice low and cold. “I won. The fruit’s mine. Now sit down and shut up before I get tired of your face.”

The brute’s breath hitched, and for a moment, it looked like he might fight back. But Archer’s eyes—those burning, golden eyes—told him everything he needed to know. This kid wasn’t bluffing. He was a killer.

Slowly, the brute raised his hands in surrender, backing away from the table.

Archer didn’t lower his blade until the pirate was seated again, his hands trembling as he wiped sweat from his brow. Without a word, Archer reached for the chest, pulling it toward him with a sense of finality. The pirates watched in stunned silence as he stood, the Devil Fruit now in his possession.

He didn’t care about their anger, their resentment. Let them stew in it. They weren’t his problem anymore.

Archer turned to leave, the weight of the chest heavy in his hands, but his mind was already elsewhere. Garp. Ace. The two names that haunted his every waking moment. He had heard whispers, rumors that Garp had been seen in this region, often stopping at some small island. The problem was, no one seemed to know which island.

But that didn’t matter. Archer was patient. He would find Garp, and when he did, he would get answers. And if Garp had anything to do with Ace’s disappearance—if he had taken him, or worse…

Archer’s grip tightened on the chest, his knuckles white.

I’ll kill him.

As he stepped outside into the cool night air, his mind buzzed with the weight of his next move. The Devil Fruit might be valuable, but that was a distraction. His real goal was Ace, and he wouldn’t stop until he had his nephew back. No matter what.

A grin crept across his face as he felt the weight of the fruit in the chest. His next steps were uncertain, but he had power now. And he had a plan.

Archer hurried through the thick underbrush, weaving between the trees like a shadow. His breath came out in short, controlled bursts as he clutched the chest tightly against his chest. The Devil Fruit inside felt like a burning weight, its potential gnawing at the edges of his mind. By the time he reached his small, makeshift campsite, his pulse had quickened, not from the sprint but from the anticipation.

Dropping to the ground near his firepit, he sat cross-legged and placed the chest in front of him, the faint glow of the dying embers casting flickering shadows on his face. His golden eyes narrowed in focus as he slowly opened the chest, the creak of the old wood filling the silence around him.

There it was—the Devil Fruit. It sat nestled in the chest, its strange swirls and unnatural shape almost mocking in its mystery. He stared at it, its deep, vibrant colors catching the faint light.

This could change everything, he thought, his heart pounding in his ears. But there were so many unknowns.

The Devil Fruits were a gamble. Everyone knew that. Eat one, and you gained unimaginable power—but at the cost of the sea’s wrath. A Devil Fruit user could never swim again, and that meant death for anyone unlucky enough to fall into water.

Archer leaned back, running a hand through his long, messy hair as he considered his options. There were pros and cons to eating it, no doubt. It could make him stronger, give him an edge he desperately needed. But then again, he had no idea what kind of power it held. For all he knew, it could be completely useless—some bizarre transformation or a power he couldn’t control.

But then again…

He didn’t have time to play it safe. Every minute wasted was another minute Ace was out there, alone—or worse, dead. He couldn’t afford to hesitate.

Fuck it.

With a deep breath, Archer grabbed the fruit, bringing it up to his face. He could already smell the strange, sour scent of it, and it made his stomach turn. Steeling himself, he took a bite.

Holy shit.

It tasted like the worst thing imaginable—like rot and decay mixed with something sickly sweet. He gagged as he forced it down, his throat burning. He choked out a few curses, spitting the rest of the fruit to the side. "That was worse than anything I’ve ever tasted. Fucking disgusting." But the bitterness on his tongue was the least of his problems.

A sharp pain exploded in his stomach. Archer doubled over, his hands gripping the ground as his body convulsed. The world spun around him, and he felt something inside him—something unfamiliar—begin to stir.

"Shit!" he groaned, clutching his midsection. The pain was unbearable, twisting and writhing like fire coursing through his veins. His skin felt like it was stretching, pulling.

Then, suddenly, he felt his body grow. His limbs elongated, his muscles expanded, and his senses sharpened all at once. His hands swelled, fingers thickening, and his vision blurred before snapping back with startling clarity. The pain in his stomach subsided, replaced by a surge of raw power.

His breathing was heavy, almost animalistic, and as he looked down at himself, panic shot through him. His arms were now massive, covered in golden, thick fur. His legs, too—bulky and impossibly strong, his body towering over what it once was.

What the fuck is happening?

Adrenaline surged through him as he scrambled up from the ground, crashing through the trees until he reached a small stream nearby. Heart hammering in his chest, he leaned over the water, staring at the reflection.

A giant grizzly bear stared back at him.

“Fuck…” Archer growled, his voice a low rumble that sounded both foreign and familiar. He stepped back from the water, lifting one of his massive paws to his face, flexing it experimentally. The power coursing through him was intoxicating, his body brimming with strength he had never felt before. His senses were heightened—the smell of the forest around him, the distant sound of birds chirping, the rustling of the leaves—all of it was sharper, more vibrant.

He blinked, still trying to process the transformation. He was huge, easily three times the size he was moments before. His muscles felt like they could crush stone, and his movements, though heavier, were fluid and powerful.

Archer let out a low chuckle, his voice still that deep, animalistic growl. "Oh… I can definitely work with this."

He flexed his massive arms, feeling the strength rippling through them. He was bigger, stronger, and faster than he had ever been before. His senses were sharper, his instincts more primal. This was power—real, tangible power. And he was just beginning to understand it.

Slowly, Archer shifted back, the transformation reverting, his body shrinking down until he was human again. His breath came in ragged gasps, but the sensation of control was still there. He could feel the bear lurking beneath the surface, ready to emerge at will.

This Devil Fruit had given him something far greater than he had expected. He wasn’t just stronger—he was a predator.

A grin spread across Archer’s face as he sat back down by the fire, the weight of the power settling into his bones. "Garp, Marines and World goverment, you’re fucked. And Ace… I’m coming for you."

This was no longer just a hunt for his nephew. Now, Archer had the power to tear through anyone in his path.

Chapter Text

He had a lead. A true lead!

It had taken him three years of relentless pursuit, two Marine bases destroyed, countless marines left in his wake, and a bounty of 100,000,000 Berries. But none of it mattered. No one knew his name, only the legend that had grown around him. To them, he was a monster—a bear that appeared from nowhere, a terror in the night.

The Golden Terror, they called him.

Archer wouldn’t admit it to anyone, not even to himself, but there was a certain twisted pride in that name. It meant he was making an impact, that people feared him, that his quest hadn’t been in vain. He wore the scars of his battles with grim satisfaction, each one a testament to his relentless pursuit of justice and vengeance.

But now, finally, he was closing in on his target.

The village was called Foosha Village, situated on Dawn Island in the Goa region. Rumor had it that Vice Admiral Garp made port there occasionally and then headed up into the mountains. It was a small, unremarkable place on the map, but Archer had learned not to underestimate the significance of seemingly insignificant locations. If Garp was there, this was where he would find answers.

The sun was just setting as Archer approached the edge of Foosha Village, the sky painted in hues of orange and pink. He moved stealthily, his senses on high alert. His recent battles had sharpened his instincts even further, his bear form an incredible asset in combat. It was a powerful tool, and he had learned to wield it with deadly precision.

The village was quaint, nestled at the foot of the mountains with modest homes and narrow streets. It was a stark contrast to the chaos he had left behind. Here, life went on at a slow pace, unaware of the storm brewing on its doorstep. Archer could see the flicker of lanterns and hear the murmur of voices as he moved through the shadows.

He had to be careful. The Marines had been on high alert for him, and although his face wasn’t widely known, his reputation was. The last thing he wanted was to attract attention prematurely. He slipped into the village, blending with the darkness, his eyes scanning for any sign of Garp or his whereabouts.

He made his way to the local tavern, a dimly lit place where the locals gathered to unwind. The scent of fried fish and beer hung in the air as he slipped inside, the warmth from the fire a stark contrast to the cool night outside.

Archer found a secluded corner, his golden eyes scanning the room for any useful information. He was well-versed in gathering intel without attracting attention. A casual eavesdrop here, a subtle question there—people were often more willing to talk when they didn’t realize the true purpose behind the inquiry.

The tavern was bustling with chatter, but Archer’s focus was sharp. He could pick out snippets of conversation, fragments of gossip. He overheard a group of fishermen talking about a “strange visitor” who had passed through recently, someone who seemed out of place in their quiet village.

He moved closer, his ears straining to catch every word. The conversation shifted to rumors of Garp, how he had come through a few days ago, asking questions about the mountains.

“Yeah, said he was headed up there to check something out,” one of the fishermen said, taking a long swig of his drink. “Real gruff, like he had a mission or somethin’.”

Archer’s heart quickened. This was the confirmation he needed. Garp was indeed here, and he was heading into the mountains. The thought of finally confronting Garp, of getting answers about Ace, made him almost tremble with anticipation.

He finished his drink, paid the tab with a generous tip (enough to ensure he wouldn’t be followed), and slipped out of the tavern, disappearing into the night. The moon was high in the sky now, casting a pale light over the village as he headed toward the base of the mountains.

The climb was steep and treacherous, but Archer had always been in top physical condition. The bear form had given him an edge in terms of strength and endurance, and he used that to his advantage. The terrain was rough, and he moved with the practiced ease of someone who had spent years navigating challenging landscapes.

The night air was cold and crisp, and as he ascended, he couldn’t help but think about how close he was to finally finding Garp. Every step brought him closer to answers, to redemption, to the possibility of saving Ace.

Archer crouched behind a rocky outcrop, his breath forming faint clouds in the chilly night air. He knew he needed every advantage he could get if he was going to confront Garp. The bear form, with its heightened senses and formidable strength, was exactly what he needed. It was time to use it.

With a sharp focus, Archer let the transformation take hold. His body rippled and grew, bones reshaping, muscles expanding. The familiar pain of change coursed through him, but he gritted his teeth, enduring it with a grim determination. The forest around him fell silent as he transformed into the towering grizzly bear. His senses became a cacophony of overwhelming stimuli—sounds, smells, and sights sharpened to an almost unbearable degree.

The scent of people reached him first. It was stronger now, an assault on his nose. The stench of unwashed bodies mixed with the acrid tang of cheap beer was nearly nauseating. The odors of sweat and grime permeated the air, a stark contrast to the clean, cold wilderness he was used to. He growled softly, adjusting to the onslaught of sensory information.

Archer moved cautiously toward the large building near the campfire, his massive paws making little noise against the rocky terrain. As he approached, the sounds of conversation grew louder. He could hear the distinct tones of voices—a deep, authoritative male voice and a higher-pitched, more submissive female voice.

The male voice was commanding, sharp with authority. “You need to take better care of him. If anything happens, I’ll have no choice but to arrest you. We can’t afford any mistakes.”

The female’s voice was dripping with a simpering tone, clearly trying to placate the man. “Yes, Garp-san. I understand. I’ll ensure the brat is well taken care of. It won’t happen again.”

Archer’s ears perked up at the mention of “the brat.” His instincts screamed that this might be connected to Ace. He edged closer, using the shadows and the cover of darkness to stay hidden. The large building was a sturdy structure, likely a guardhouse or a small fortification given its layout. He could see the faint glow of lanterns through the cracks in the walls, casting an eerie light.

The conversation continued as Archer pressed his back against the wall of the building, his keen senses picking up every detail. The woman’s voice was full of nervous energy. “I just didn’t expect him to be so... difficult. I’ll manage him better. You have my word.”

The gruff male voice grunted in response, dismissive. “See that you do. The brat’s fate is in your hands for now. I won’t tolerate any more failures.”

Archer’s heart pounded as he processed the information. The “brat” they were talking about—could it be Ace? The urgency of the situation sharpened his focus. He had to get inside, find out for sure.

Carefully, he maneuvered around the building, searching for an entrance. His massive frame was a challenge to keep hidden, but the cover of darkness and his natural stealth made it manageable. He finally found a slightly ajar door leading into the building. The hinges were old and rusty, but they moved silently under his touch.

He pushed the door open just enough to slip inside, his enormous form squeezing through with surprising ease. The interior was dimly lit, the air thick with the smell of oil lamps and the faint musk of damp stone. The building was indeed a small fortification, with crude wooden furnishings and heavy, ironbound doors leading to different rooms.

He moved cautiously through the corridors, his sensitive nose guiding him as he picked up the scents of people and, most importantly, the smell of fear and sweat that seemed to be emanating from one of the rooms. His instincts told him he was close.

Archer approached the source of the scent, pressing his massive body against the wall beside the door. Through the small gaps, he could make out the sound of shuffling and quiet whimpers. His heart raced with anticipation.

Archer carefully eased the door open, the faint creak making his heart skip a beat. He slipped into the dimly lit room, his golden eyes adjusting quickly to the darkness. Inside, there was a small cot in the corner, and upon it lay a toddler, no older than two years. His heart lurched at the sight.

The child had black, wavy hair, a mix of his mother’s and his father’s traits. Freckles dotted his cheeks, reminiscent of both Rouge and Archer himself. The hair color—dark like Roger’s—was the only thing that set him apart. Even at this distance, Archer could smell the faint trace of his own scent on the boy. It was unmistakably Ace.

Taking a slow, cautious step closer, Archer studied the toddler. Ace looked well-fed, his small body clothed in a simple but clean outfit. He had a faint smile on his face, lost in a peaceful slumber. For a moment, Archer’s heart softened. The child looked happy, content despite his circumstances.

He knelt beside the cot, his massive form looming over the sleeping child. The tenderness of the moment was shattered as Ace’s eyes fluttered open. They were wide and innocent, but the sight of the massive golden bear looming over him triggered a primal fear. Ace’s tiny body tensed, and with a piercing scream, he cried out in terror.

The shriek was like a knife to Archer’s heart, but he had no choice. He had to get out, and quickly. Without thinking, he turned and bolted from the room, his massive bear form crashing through the building. He heard shouts and clattering behind him, the sound of alarm bells ringing through the corridors.

The building was in chaos as he barreled down the halls, only barely noticing as he barreled through a few unsuspecting bandits—bandits?—the last people he expected to find working with Garp. The realization was swift but overshadowed by his urgent need to escape. His path through the building was a blur of roars and destruction.

As he reached the exit, the door gave way under his weight, and he burst into the night. The forest was just ahead, its dark embrace calling him. He sprinted into the trees, his powerful legs propelling him forward, the sounds of pursuit fading behind him.

He didn’t stop until he was deep within the forest, hidden among the dense foliage. Archer’s breathing was heavy, his chest rising and falling as he tried to calm his racing heart. The child’s terrified scream echoed in his mind.

Archer shifted back to human form, his clothes torn and smeared with dirt and blood. He took a moment to catch his breath, leaning against a tree. He needed to think, to strategize. His plan had been to get in, get Ace, and get out. But the unexpected presence of bandits and the chaos that followed had derailed his initial approach.

He climbed up to a high vantage point, a large rock overlooking the building. From his position, he could see the village below, now abuzz with activity. Torches bobbed about as people—bandits milled around, searching for him.

Archer watched from his perch, his golden eyes scanning the area. The building he had just escaped from was now the center of attention. The bandits seemed to be conducting a full-scale search. His mind raced as he formulated a new plan.

He needed to be patient. Going back into the fray would be too dangerous now, with so many eyes on him. He had to wait for the right moment, for the search parties to disperse. He needed to gather more information about the bandits’ involvement and figure out a safer way to get Ace out of there.

For now, he would observe. He would watch and wait, just as he had learned to do over the years. His anger and frustration were palpable, but he buried them under a layer of cold determination. He had come too far to be stopped now.

Chapter Text

As the days passed, Archer became more familiar with the Dadan bandits, the ragtag group responsible for Ace’s well-being. From the shadows of the trees and rocks, he observed them closely. He had to know everything about them—their routines, their strengths, and especially their weaknesses. These people were the key to getting Ace back, and Archer was nothing if not patient.

The leader, Curly Dadan, was hard to miss. She was a massive woman, towering over the other bandits, with wild, unkempt hair and a demeanor that exuded authority. Her voice was as gruff as the gravel beneath Archer’s boots, and she ruled her group with an iron fist. Dadan was no delicate flower; she was a beast of a woman, and Archer could tell from her size and strength that she wasn’t someone to be underestimated.

He watched her bark orders at her men, scolding them for any misstep, no matter how small. Despite her rough exterior, though, there was something about the way she handled Ace that caught Archer off guard. She wasn’t kind, not in the traditional sense, but she wasn’t as brutal with the boy as she was with her underlings. She treated Ace more like a nuisance than anything, but there was a strange sort of protectiveness in her eyes. Maybe she didn’t realize it herself, but she was looking out for him.

As the days passed, Archer couldn’t help but be amused by Ace. The boy was wild—untamable, relentless, and full of energy. It was as if the chaos of the world had taken root in him and refused to let go. And Archer? He loved it.

Ace was constantly on the move, darting between the trees, climbing rocks, and causing mayhem wherever he went. He'd sneak up on the bandits, pulling pranks or outright challenging them, and though they grumbled and cursed, they didn’t seem to be able to keep up with him. Archer watched from the shadows, a proud smile tugging at his lips. The kid was a natural troublemaker—just like him.

The way Ace fearlessly charged into whatever nonsense caught his attention, whether it was wrestling a wild animal or trying to "fight" a bandit twice his size, reminded Archer of his younger self. There was a raw, unrefined strength in him, a fire that would only grow with time. Archer could already see the future: Ace would be a force to be reckoned with.

But amidst the pride and amusement, there was a gnawing conflict within him. Watching Ace live freely with the bandits, Archer couldn’t help but question his next move. He still had a mission—he needed to confront Garp. The old Marine bastard had left Foosha Village shortly after Archer’s arrival, leaving Archer to stew in frustration.

Ace was safe for now, and though Dadan and her gang were far from ideal caretakers, they weren’t cruel. Archer had been prepared to rip through anyone who stood between him and his nephew, but the bandits... they didn’t feel like the enemy. They were loud, drunk, and often incompetent, but they cared for Ace in their own twisted way. That made things complicated.

But Garp—that stubborn, iron-headed Vice Admiral—was the key to everything. Archer still needed answers. Why had Garp taken Ace? Was he trying to protect him or use him as some pawn? Archer had no idea. But without Garp around, his only lead was... the orange-haired woman.

Ugh.

Archer had been lazily stretched out in his grizzly form, basking in the sun atop some rocks when the sound tore through the air. A high-pitched scream, one he'd already become familiar with over the past week. Ace. And not just any scream—this one was filled with pure terror.

Before Archer could even register what was happening, the scream was followed by a deep, bone-rattling roar. His golden eyes snapped open, and he was on his feet in an instant, adrenaline surging through his veins. Without hesitation, Archer took off toward the noise, his massive paws pounding the ground beneath him as he barreled through the trees, the world around him becoming a blur.

Bursting into a clearing, Archer’s heart sank at the sight before him. Ace, just three years old, stood frozen in terror, his wide eyes locked on the enormous form of a tiger, easily as large as Archer himself. The beast's amber eyes gleamed with hunger, its muscles tensed as it prepared to pounce. Time seemed to slow as the tiger lunged toward Ace, claws outstretched, ready to tear into him.

Archer didn’t think—he couldn’t. He saw red.

With a thunderous roar that shook the forest, Archer launched himself at the tiger, intercepting it just before it reached Ace. Their bodies collided with the force of a storm, sending dirt and leaves flying. The two giants clashed, their massive forms tearing into each other in a brutal, primal battle.

The tiger was relentless, slashing at Archer with claws as long as swords. One swipe raked across Archer’s side, tearing into fur and flesh, blood spraying in the air. The pain was immediate, sharp, but it only fueled Archer’s fury. He barely felt it. His golden eyes locked onto the tiger, filled with an animalistic rage as he let out another roar, one that echoed through the clearing.

The tiger was fast, trying to circle around Archer, its teeth bared as it went for his neck. But Archer was faster. He swung his enormous paw, claws out, and struck the tiger across its face, sending it staggering back. Blood dripped from both of them, staining the ground beneath their feet.

They circled each other, growling, both bleeding, both relentless. The tiger lunged again, but this time, Archer was ready. The beast’s claws swiped at his head, grazing his ear and sending a fresh spray of blood flying. Pain exploded in his skull, but Archer didn’t falter. He roared louder, his vision blurring from the hit.

Enraged, Archer leaped forward, his massive jaws snapping around the tiger’s neck. His teeth sank deep into its flesh, and the tiger thrashed, trying to shake him off. But Archer held firm, his grip like iron. He bit down harder, tasting the warm rush of blood as he tightened his hold.

The tiger let out a final, guttural growl, its struggles weakening. Archer's jaws clenched even harder, and with one last savage twist of his neck, he ripped the tiger’s throat out. Blood gushed from the wound, painting the forest floor in crimson.

The tiger collapsed, its body twitching once before going still. Dead.

Panting heavily, Archer stood over the lifeless form of the beast, his fur matted with blood—both his and the tiger's. His golden eyes, wild with fury, scanned the clearing for any more threats. When he saw nothing, his gaze finally fell on Ace.

The boy was still standing there, frozen in place, his small body trembling. Archer’s heart, still pounding from the battle, softened as he looked at Ace. He shifted out of his bear form, returning to his human state, blood still dripping from the wound on his head and his side. He took a shaky step toward Ace, breathing heavily.

Ace’s wide eyes were fixed on him, a mixture of fear and awe in his gaze. For a moment, they just stared at each other, the clearing eerily quiet now that the roar of the tiger had faded. Archer’s chest ached, not just from the pain of his wounds but from the sight of Ace—his nephew, his blood—standing there, unharmed because of him.

He crouched down, still towering over Ace even in his human form, and with a soft, shaky voice, he said, "You're safe now, kid."

Ace, his small hands clenched into fists, stared up at him with those familiar freckled cheeks, looking both terrified and relieved. He opened his mouth to speak but only managed a small, shaky whisper.

“Who... are you?”

Archer felt his throat tighten. He had spent years searching for Ace, and now, here he was, looking up at him with no idea who he was. But there wasn’t time to explain now. Not yet.

"I’m someone who’s going to protect you," Archer said softly, though his voice held a firmness, a promise.

Ace blinked at him, still processing everything that had just happened. Archer could see the questions swirling in the boy's eyes, but before Ace could say anything else, Archer stood up and glanced at the tiger’s corpse. He’d need to drag it away, clean up the mess. He couldn’t afford anyone seeing this, not yet.

But as he turned back to Ace, something changed in the boy’s expression. He took a step forward, his small hand reaching out to grab a fistful of Archer’s shirt.

"You saved me," Ace said, his voice stronger now, though still filled with wonder. "You... killed that tiger. You saved me."

Archer swallowed hard, his heart heavy. "Yeah, I did."

Ace looked up at him, those big, curious eyes locking onto his. And for the first time, Archer saw something more than just fear or awe. He saw trust.

And that terrified him more than any tiger ever could.

Archer sat by the stream, his fingers gingerly brushing over the gashes that ran from his left ear to his jaw. The wounds were deep and stung like hell, but they were nothing compared to the weight on his heart. He’d cleaned himself up as best as he could, the cold water washing away the blood and grime, but there was no erasing the scars that would stay—a reminder of the tiger and everything else.

When he finally turned around, Ace was standing there, looking up at him with those wide, curious eyes. He’d been following Archer around like a shadow, never saying much but always nearby, watching him intently like a kid trying to figure out a puzzle. Archer let out a deep sigh and patted the ground next to him, gesturing for Ace to sit.

Without a hint of hesitation or fear, Ace plopped down beside him, his little legs crossed. The boy didn’t waste a second. Like a dam breaking, he started firing off questions, his words spilling out so fast that Archer barely had time to keep up.

"Were you the big bear I saw in my room?"

Archer, amused at the boy’s bluntness, nodded. “Yeah, that was me.”

Ace stared at him with those sharp eyes, and then, with all the confidence of a three-year-old, he said, “You look like a boy.”

Archer raised an eyebrow at the audacity. “I’m fifteen, kid.”

Ace blinked, as if that was both shocking and not shocking at all. But then came the harder question. The one that made Archer’s chest tighten.

“You look like me,” Ace said softly, his eyes wide as he tilted his head, “but with blond hair and more scars.”

Archer felt the words hit him like a punch. He ran a hand over his scarred face, the reminder of everything he’d been through, all the years of searching and fighting. He swallowed hard, knowing it was time to tell Ace the truth—but not all of it. Not yet.

“Yeah, I do,” Archer said quietly, “but this... it has to be a secret, okay? At least for now.”

Ace nodded solemnly, his face serious for once. “I promise.”

Taking a deep breath, Archer finally told him. “I’m your uncle, Ace. Your mother... she was my sister.”

Ace’s eyes lit up, curiosity and excitement bubbling up inside him. “Where is she? Is she here too?”

Archer’s heart clenched. He wasn’t ready for this—he’d never be ready for this. But the truth was all he had, and Ace deserved that much. He looked the boy directly in the eyes, his voice soft but steady.

"She's... gone, Ace. She died, but she loved you. So much. And she’s always here, with you. Always.”

Ace’s face crumpled. His little fists clenched, his lip trembled, and before Archer could say anything more, the boy’s eyes filled with tears. A sob broke through, and then another, until Ace was full-on crying, his small body shaking with the weight of it.

Archer didn’t know what to say, but he didn’t need to. He reached out, scooping Ace up into his arms, holding him close as the boy cried into his chest. Archer whispered to him softly, “I’ve been looking for you for three years, Ace. I’m not leaving you again. Ever.”

Ace’s cries grew louder, heart-wrenching sobs that cut through the stillness of the forest. Archer just held him tighter, letting the boy release all the emotions he’d probably never understood until now. They sat like that for what felt like hours, Archer rocking him gently as the sun began to dip lower in the sky, casting a golden glow over the clearing.

As the sun was beginning to set, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink, Archer nudged Ace gently. “You’ve gotta go back, kid. You can’t tell anyone about me, okay?”

Ace wiped his tear-streaked face with the back of his hand and nodded, sniffling. "I won’t tell. I promise.”

Together, they walked toward the Dadan bandits’ stronghold, the forest quiet around them. Stopping just before the clearing where the house came into view, Archer crouched down and pulled Ace into one last hug, ruffling his messy black hair.

“We’ll meet again tomorrow, alright?”

Ace nodded fiercely, then turned and ran toward the stronghold, his small legs carrying him as fast as they could. “I saw a big tiger! And an even bigger bear!” he shouted as he bolted through the door. The bandits just laughed, not taking his story seriously, their boisterous voices echoing in the night.

Ace turned to look back, but by then, Archer had already melted into the shadows, watching from afar, always keeping an eye on the boy.

Tomorrow. He’d see him again tomorrow.

Chapter Text

And so, time went on, three years to be exact.

Archer's wounds slowly healed, leaving fresh scars across his battered body, each one a reminder of the battles he’d fought. But hell, he didn’t mind. The scars were nothing compared to what he’d gained in return. Ace—wild, stubborn, and full of life—was the best mix of Rouge and Roger. Though, let’s be real, Roger didn’t exactly give the kid much to work with. (in Archers personal opinion of cause)

Every day, without fail, Ace would come running to him. The little punk would chatter on, talking Archer's ear off about everything and nothing—what he’d eaten, some prank he’d pulled on the bandits, or how he’d outrun a wild boar (half of which Archer knew was exaggerated). But, damn, how Archer loved it.

From the moment he’d held Ace as a baby, all tiny and screaming, Archer had felt something change deep inside him. Now, six years later, that bond had only grown stronger. Ace had wrapped his little hands around Archer’s heart, and there was no way the boy was letting go anytime soon.

They spent their days together, roaming the forests and climbing the rugged mountains around Dawn Island. Ace would ride on Archer’s back, laughing hysterically as Archer sprinted through the trees in his bear form, the wind whipping through his messy black hair. It was freedom, pure and simple. The kind Archer hadn’t felt in years.

Sometimes they’d hunt, tracking down wild game for food. Ace had a knack for spotting things that even Archer missed, his sharp little eyes catching movement in the underbrush. Other times, they’d wrestle or spar, rolling around in the dirt like a couple of animals. Archer would transform into his bear form, growling and swiping playfully at Ace, who’d dodge and weave with that same reckless energy Archer remembered from Rouge. And every time, Ace would come back for more, laughing as if the world itself was a game.

But amidst the laughter and play, Archer knew the truth—Ace’s legacy was a dangerous one. The boy was the son of the Pirate King, after all. It wasn’t long before Archer realized he’d have to prepare Ace for the world beyond their hidden corner of the island.

So, he started teaching him how to fight. Not just brawling like the bandits had shown him, but real combat. At first, Ace had grumbled about it, not wanting to listen to his uncle’s instructions. But after a few playful smacks to the head and a quick demonstration of what real power looked like, Ace had started to pay attention.

They’d train by the river, practicing with sticks that Archer had whittled down into makeshift swords. Ace had a natural talent, no surprise there. But he was impulsive, always charging in without thinking. Archer had to drill patience into him, teaching him to read his opponent, to use his surroundings to his advantage. They spent hours sparring, sweat pouring down their faces as they clashed again and again.

“Keep your guard up!” Archer barked one day, swatting away Ace’s stick as it came crashing toward him. Ace growled, frustrated, but his eyes gleamed with determination. The boy was a fighter through and through, just like his mother.

And every day, Ace got better. Stronger. Faster. His punches had more bite, his reflexes sharper. Archer could see it in the boy’s eyes—the fire of someone who wouldn’t back down, no matter what the world threw at him.

But it wasn’t just about fighting. It was about survival.

“Look, kid,” Archer had said once, sitting beside a panting Ace after a long training session. “There’s gonna come a day when people find out who you are. And when that happens, they won’t care if you’re just a kid. They’ll come for you. Marines. Pirates. Everyone. You need to be ready.”

Ace, despite his usual rebellious nature, had listened. The weight of his legacy wasn’t lost on him. Archer could see it in those freckled cheeks and in the furrowed brow. The boy knew he was different. He knew he had to be strong—stronger than anyone else if he wanted to survive.

And Archer would make sure of it.

But even with all the seriousness of their training, there was always that laughter, that joy. They’d race through the woods, Ace hopping onto Archer’s bear back with a whoop as they darted through the trees, the wind in their faces. At night, they’d sit around a campfire, Ace asking a million questions about pirates, about Rouge, about what the world outside the island was like.

Sometimes, Archer would tell him stories about Rouge—about how she used to get into fights with the boys in the village, her fiery temper and her stubbornness. He’d tell Ace how much she loved him, how hard she fought to bring him into this world. And Ace, despite trying to act tough, would always get quiet when his mother’s name came up.

“Do you think she’d be proud of me?” Ace had asked once, his voice barely above a whisper.

Archer had looked down at him, his heart aching with the weight of that question. “She’d be damn proud of you, Ace. You’re just like her.”

The boy had smiled, and for a moment, Archer could see Rouge in him so clearly it hurt.

As the sun set behind the mountains, casting long shadows over the forest, Archer knew one thing for certain. He’d do whatever it took to protect Ace, to keep him safe, to prepare him for the world that would one day come knocking.

And if anyone tried to take him away, well… they’d have to go through the Golden Terror first.

Garp hadn’t returned since Archer arrived three years ago, but Archer, like a predator biding his time, had learned the art of patience. He knew how to wait, how to let the world move around him while he remained a shadow, ever watchful. His mission was clear: stay close to Ace and wait for Garp’s return. That old bastard would have answers, and Archer was going to drag them out of him, one way or another.

The fact that the Dadan bandits hadn’t discovered him yet was, honestly, mind-boggling. A nearly 1,000-pound grizzly bear living practically on their doorstep, and they were none the wiser? It was almost laughable. Archer had expected some close calls—hell, he’d even left claw marks on a few trees that any idiot with half a brain would’ve noticed. But nope. The bandits were too busy bickering, drinking, or chasing after Ace to pay attention to their surroundings.

"Idiots," Archer muttered to himself one evening, as he watched from his usual vantage point—a rocky outcrop hidden by thick brush, overlooking the bandits' hideout.

He could see the usual chaos unfolding down below. The bandits were sitting around their fire, arguing over the spoils from whatever small-time robbery they'd pulled off that day. Ace, as usual, was darting between them, causing trouble—knocking over barrels, sneaking bites of their food, and laughing like the little terror he was. Archer chuckled to himself. The kid was growing more like Rouge every day—bold, reckless, and impossible to control.

But still, Garp hadn’t shown. The old marine had vanished after dumping Ace on these buffoons and hadn’t been back since. What the hell kind of plan was that? Did he think Ace was going to be safe with a group of thieves and drunkards? Or maybe Garp thought hiding him here, on this backwater island, would keep him off the World Government’s radar. Either way, Archer knew he couldn't leave things to chance. Not with Ace’s legacy hanging in the balance.

“Patience,” Archer told himself again, though the word was bitter on his tongue. Waiting had never been his strong suit, but if he had to lurk in these woods for another three years, he would. Ace was worth it. Everything was worth it.

Archer watched as Dadan herself stomped out of the shack, her booming voice carrying through the forest as she yelled at her men. He couldn’t help but smirk. She was a brute of a woman—tough, loud, and stubborn as hell—but in her own twisted way, she seemed to care about Ace. At least, enough to keep him alive. Still, he wasn’t sure how long that would last. Ace was growing up, getting stronger, and trouble had a way of following the boy.

Suddenly, a loud crash came from the bandit camp as one of the men stumbled, knocking over a pile of supplies. Dadan roared in anger, chasing after the clumsy bandit with a stick. Ace, watching the chaos unfold, let out a high-pitched laugh and bolted off into the forest.

Archer’s eyes followed Ace instinctively. The kid was fast, but Archer knew these woods better. It wasn’t long before he spotted Ace running toward their usual meeting spot—a small clearing deeper in the forest, hidden from the bandits’ prying eyes.

Shifting into his bear form, Archer moved silently through the underbrush, using the cover of the trees to stay hidden. By the time he reached the clearing, Ace was already there, sitting on a fallen log, kicking his feet impatiently.

“You’re slow today,” Ace teased when Archer appeared from the trees, his little arms crossed over his chest.

Archer snorted in response, shifting back into his human form. “You’re just impatient.”

Ace grinned, jumping off the log and running over to him. “So, what are we doing today? Are we training again? Or are we gonna hunt?”

“Training,” Archer said, ruffling the boy’s messy black hair. “You’ve still got a lot to learn.”

Ace groaned dramatically, but Archer could see the excitement in his eyes. The boy loved learning how to fight, even if he pretended otherwise. And every day, he was getting stronger, faster, more in tune with the wilderness around him.

As they trained, Archer couldn’t help but think about the future. Ace’s bloodline was a ticking time bomb, and it was only a matter of time before the world came looking for him. Marines, bounty hunters, pirates—they’d all want a piece of the Pirate King’s son.

But they wouldn’t get through Archer. Not as long as he still drew breath.

After a while, they took a break, sitting side by side on the log, both sweaty and breathing heavily from the sparring. Ace turned to Archer, that curious look back in his eyes.

“When do you think Garp’ll come back?” Ace asked, surprising Archer with the question.

Archer’s jaw clenched. He didn’t like thinking about Garp. The man was the reason Rouge was gone—the reason Ace had to grow up without a mother. But Archer knew he couldn’t dodge the question forever.

“He’ll come back,” Archer said after a moment, his voice low and serious. “And when he does, I’ll be ready.”

Ace nodded, his face serious. He didn’t understand the full weight of what Archer was saying, but he trusted his uncle. Archer could see it in the boy’s eyes.

It all went to shit in one night. Because, of course, it did. The Dadan bandits had gone on another raid—nothing new about that—but they’d made a rookie mistake, the kind even greenhorns knew to avoid. They didn’t check if all their enemies were dead, or worse, if they were regrouping and gathering reinforcements.

Archer was napping, his massive bear body sprawled out lazily on a hill above the stronghold when the first sounds of panic reached his ears. Screams. The clang of weapons. Smoke rising from the trees. His eyes snapped open as realization hit him like a ton of bricks.

“Shit!” Archer growled, bolting upright.

The idiots had brought an army to their doorstep—a force of about 200 rival bandits cutting down Dadan’s men like they were nothing more than grass in a storm. And right in the middle of that chaos was Ace.

No more hiding. No more playing it safe. Ace was the only thing that mattered.

Secrecy be damned!

Archer was already tearing through the trees, his paws thundering against the ground as he barreled toward the stronghold. The fire had taken hold of the main building, and he could hear the crackling of wood and the roaring of flames as they engulfed the structure. But louder still was the familiar voice, filled with fear, calling from inside the inferno.

"Uncle Archer! I’m here!"

Ace.

Without a second thought, Archer charged into the fray. Bandits from the attacking group tried to block his path, but they might as well have been gnats for all the good it did them. With one swipe of his massive paw, Archer sent them flying like rag dolls. His focus was singular—Ace. The chaos, the screams, the flames... nothing mattered except getting Ace out of there.

He didn’t even realize he had saved Dadan by flattening a group of attackers that had surrounded her. It wasn’t part of the plan.

The main building was a hellish nightmare—smoke thick in the air, fire licking at the walls. Archer's golden eyes scanned the wreckage, and then he saw him. Ace, huddled in a corner, shielding his face from the searing heat, fear written all over his small face.

"Hang on, Ace!" Archer bellowed, his roar cutting through the chaos.

With a growl, Archer charged forward, leaping over a fallen beam and smashing through debris until he was in front of his nephew. The boy didn’t need to be told twice. With the agility of someone far older, Ace jumped onto Archer’s back, clutching his fur as the bear turned and charged back through the burning house.

The roof was caving in, the heat intense, but Archer wasn’t slowing down. With every ounce of strength in his enormous frame, he burst through the wooden wall like it was paper, debris scattering in all directions.

Outside, the battle still raged, but all Archer cared about was keeping Ace safe. That didn't mean, though, that anyone else was getting a free pass.

Bandits from the attacking force turned to face him, eyes widening in terror as the giant golden bear burst out of the inferno, Ace still clinging to his back. One particularly brave (or stupid) bandit charged forward, brandishing a sword. But before Archer could even react, Ace had grabbed an iron pipe from the ground and was smacking the guy square in the face with it.

Archer couldn’t help the rush of pride that surged through him as Ace, grinning like a maniac, started swinging the pipe at anyone who got too close.

“That’s my boy!” Archer thought with a grin, plowing through the remaining bandits like they were nothing.

One by one, the rival gang fell. Blood stained the ground, and when the last enemy collapsed, the forest fell eerily silent.

Dadan, still breathing heavily, watched in stunned silence as the giant bear—Ace still riding on his back—turned toward her. Slowly, her men gathered around, looking between the boy and the beast in disbelief.

Ace, still high on adrenaline, happily announced, “The bear’s my uncle!”

There was a beat of stunned silence before Dadan’s eyes grew as wide as saucers.

“Wait... what?! You were telling the truth this whole time?! That big bear is your uncle?!”

The bandits murmured in astonishment, eyes bouncing from Ace to Archer as they tried to wrap their heads around it. Archer, amused but exhausted, gently nudged Ace off his back and, in a flash, transformed back into his human form.

There he stood—tall, scarred, with his long golden hair tousled and his sharp eyes watching the group warily. He crossed his arms over his chest, leaning against a nearby tree as if the fight hadn’t just happened.

"Yeah," Archer grumbled, his voice low and gravelly. "I’m his uncle. Got a problem with that?"

Dadan blinked, her mouth opening and closing as she tried to find words. “I... no... I mean... What in the—?!”

Ace, meanwhile, looked up at Archer, pride written all over his little face. “Uncle Archer’s the best!” he declared, still gripping his iron pipe like a trophy.

Archer ruffled Ace’s hair, a rare, soft smile tugging at his lips.

As the first light of dawn broke through the smoldering remains of the bandits' stronghold, Archer stood with his arms crossed, his eyes narrowing as he surveyed the aftermath of the battle. The fire was finally out, and Dadan's crew was tending to the wounded and cleaning up the wreckage. But it wasn’t the destruction that bothered him.

It was Ace.

The boy stood a little too close to the last embers of the fire, his dark eyes fixed on the flames with an unsettling curiosity. Archer's gut twisted. The way Ace looked at the fire... like it was something special, something he understood in a way that wasn’t normal for a six-year-old.

“Huh... problem for later,” Archer muttered to himself, running a hand through his golden hair. Right now, he had bigger things to deal with. Namely, Dadan.

He needed answers, and the bandit leader was the only one who could give them to him.

Stomping over to where Dadan was sitting, still catching her breath after the battle, Archer didn’t bother with pleasantries. “Alright, woman, start talking. What the hell’s Garp got to do with all this?” His voice was gruff, his temper barely restrained.

Dadan, to his surprise, didn’t put up much of a fight. Maybe it was the fact that he’d just saved her ass, or maybe it was the fact that she had no real reason to hide anything from him. She looked tired, her large frame slouched as she finally relented.

“He handed me the boy,” she said, waving a hand in Ace’s direction. “Couple days after he was born. Told me to raise him to be a fine Marine, or else.”

Archer felt his blood boil instantly. A Marine? That asshole wanted Ace to grow up and serve the same corrupt government that had killed his parents?

“Not on my fucking watch!” Archer roared, his voice carrying across the clearing. Ace, who had been watching the conversation with interest, cheered loudly.

“Go, Uncle! Tell her!” Ace pumped his little fist in the air, oblivious to the weight of the conversation.

Archer, already fuming, turned back to Dadan, who looked a little taken aback by his outburst. “Listen to me, woman. Ace is not—will never—be a Marine! Not as long as I’m still breathing,” Archer barked, his hands clenched into fists. “He’s got a legacy. And it sure as hell isn’t following Garp’s orders.”

But then, a voice—a deep, gruff voice—cut through the tense atmosphere like a knife.

“And who are you to decide that, boy?”

Archer’s heart stopped. His body tensed, every muscle on edge as he slowly turned around.

There, standing in the entrance to the clearing, arms crossed and wearing that ridiculous dog-like grin, was the man Archer had hunted for six long years. The man responsible for taking Ace away, for leading Archer on a wild chase across the seas.

Vice Admiral Monkey D. Garp.

The legendary Marine stood tall, his presence imposing as hell, but his face was unreadable. He looked at Archer with something between curiosity and challenge. Archer’s golden eyes locked onto him, rage boiling just beneath the surface, ready to explode.

This was it.

All the sleepless nights, the scars, the bloodshed—it all led to this moment.

Garp, the man Archer had sworn to confront, stood there, waiting.

And suddenly, all the words Archer wanted to say seemed to freeze in his throat.

Chapter Text

Archer wasn’t proud to admit it, but for a moment, his brain just... failed him. Completely. He stood there, dumbstruck, mouth half-open like some idiot who forgot how to speak. Ace would later tease him about it relentlessly, calling it "the time Uncle Archer looked like a fish." Stupid, little nephew.

Finally, words found their way out of his mouth, and once they started, they poured out in a flood of venomous rage.

"I’m Portgas D. Archer," he spat, his voice shaking with anger. "Little brother to Portgas D. Rouge—and you, Garp, you stole something from me six years ago. I came here three years ago to protect my nephew and kill the fucker who took Ace from me."

The venom, the sheer hatred in his voice, seemed to catch even Garp off guard for a moment. The old Marine stood there, eyebrows raised, processing the fury aimed at him. Archer felt his heart pounding in his chest, his vision narrowing as he stared down the man he had hunted for so long.

But Garp wasn’t one to back down easily. He recovered quickly, his expression hardening as he crossed his arms, his voice dropping into a challenging tone. "You really think you can play the righteous card here, boy? After everything? Look at your past. You’ve spent the last few years tearing through Marine bases, killing anyone who stood in your way. You’ve become nothing more than a criminal. And now, you wanna stand there and judge me?"

Archer’s jaw clenched. He could feel the rage burning in his chest, but he forced himself to stay grounded. He couldn’t let Garp turn this around on him. Not now.

"You think I give a damn about what you or the Marines think of me?" Archer shot back, stepping forward, his fists clenched at his sides. "I’ve got blood on my hands because of you—because you took Ace away, because you let my sister die while you played the government’s loyal dog. So don’t you dare lecture me about my past!"

His voice echoed through the clearing, sharp and cutting. For a brief second, there was silence. Garp’s eyes narrowed, but he didn’t interrupt.

"And let me ask you this, Garp," Archer continued, his voice lowering but no less intense. "Why? Why the hell would you, a Marine, go to such lengths to protect the son of your greatest enemy? The son of a man the World Government wanted dead more than anyone? Why take care of Ace, the son of Gold Roger? Why not just let him die like the rest of them?"

That question—that—made Garp pause. Archer could see it in his eyes, the slightest flicker of something behind that hardened gaze. And just as Archer thought he might have struck a nerve, he heard a soft, trembling sound behind him.

Ace.

The boy had been standing there, silent, but now Archer could hear his quiet sobs. He turned to look at Ace, who was clutching at the back of his shirt, tears streaming down his freckled face.

"Uncle...?" Ace whimpered, his voice barely more than a whisper. "Is that true...? Is my father a murderer?"

The boy’s words hit Archer like a punch to the gut. He knelt down, putting a hand on Ace’s shoulder, trying to find the right words. But before he could speak, Ace turned toward Garp, his tears turning into something else—something fiercer.

"I don’t care!" Ace shouted, his small fists balled up. "I’ll never be a Marine! I’ll be like Uncle Archer!"

The words made Garp laugh—a deep, booming laugh that echoed through the clearing. The old Marine looked down at Ace, then shifted his gaze back to Archer.

"So that’s what you want, huh?" Garp asked, his voice filled with a mix of amusement and something darker. "You want to be like him, Ace? An outlaw with a bounty of 100 million berries on his head?" He pointed at Archer, the smirk on his face widening. "That’s your hero?"

Archer tensed at Garp’s words. The reminder of his bounty stung, not because of the number itself, but because of what it meant. He had made himself a target, and in doing so, he had painted a target on Ace’s back, too.

Garp's face hardened again as he locked eyes with Archer. "The Marines have been looking for you, boy. You’ve made quite a name for yourself as 'The Golden Terror.' But if you really care about Ace—if you really love him—you’ll leave. Sooner or later, you’re going to lead the Marines right to him, and then what? You want him to live his life on the run, just like you?"

Archer’s heart sank. He hadn’t thought about that. Not in the middle of his rage, his need for revenge. But now, with Garp’s words ringing in his ears, he realized the weight of his actions.

Before Archer could respond, Garp turned on his heel, his back to them both. "Think about it," he said over his shoulder. "The world won’t be kind to Ace if you’re around."

And with that, Garp walked away, disappearing into the trees.

Archer stood there, frozen in place, his mind racing. He looked down at Ace, who was still wiping away his tears. The boy was strong, no doubt about it, but he was also still just a kid. And now, more than ever, Archer realized that his presence might be the very thing that put Ace in danger.

But could he really leave?

Could he really abandon Ace, after everything?

The day dragged on in a haze of smoke and ash. The stronghold lay in ruins, still smoldering from the battle and the fire that had nearly consumed it. Archer sat on the ground near the rubble, Ace nestled in his lap, the boy’s small body fitting perfectly against him. Neither of them spoke for a long while. They didn’t need to. The weight of everything hung in the air between them, too heavy for words.

Archer’s arms wrapped around Ace protectively, as though holding him close would shield him from the cruel world that had already stolen so much from them both. Ace was quiet, his little hands gripping Archer’s shirt tightly, but Archer could feel the tension in him—the questions that were simmering just beneath the surface.

Then, after what felt like hours, Ace finally spoke, his voice soft and hesitant.

“Uncle Archer… Who was my father? Really?”

Archer let out a deep breath, his heart sinking. He’d known this conversation was coming, sooner or later. Ace was bound to ask about his heritage, his bloodline. The truth was ugly, brutal even, but Archer had never been one to sugarcoat the world. That wasn’t his way.

"Your father," Archer began, his voice low and steady, "was Gol D. Roger."

Ace shifted in his lap, looking up at him with wide, curious eyes. “Gol D. Roger?” he repeated.

Archer nodded, his grip tightening ever so slightly. “Yeah. The Pirate King. The most notorious pirate the world’s ever seen. The man who conquered the Grand Line. He commanded one of the most feared crews in history. A legend.”

Ace was silent, taking it in. Archer could see the gears turning in his mind, but he continued, knowing Ace needed to hear the full story.

“Roger met your mother, Rouge, on Baterilla. They fell in love. And when she found out she was pregnant with you, Roger... well, he was captured by the Marines. By Garp. They brought him to Loguetown for his execution, and the whole world watched as they took his life.” Archer paused, his jaw clenching as memories of that day flashed in his mind. The beginning of all this. “But before Roger died, the Marines started hunting anyone connected to him. Any woman they suspected of carrying his child. Your mother... she hid you for two years inside her. Two years, Ace, just to keep you safe.”

Ace’s eyes widened in shock. “Two years?” he whispered.

Archer nodded, his throat tightening. “Yeah. She was strong. The strongest person I’ve ever known. She loved you so much, Ace. Enough to keep you inside her when the world was hunting her down. She died giving birth to you... and I—I was there. I helped her through it, just a kid myself, barely eleven.”

Ace shifted again, his small body leaning into Archer’s chest, and Archer knew he had to keep going.

“When you were born, she asked me to get you a blanket she’d made for you. Just a simple thing, but it was special to her. When I came back... she was gone. Dead. And you... you were gone too. Garp had taken you.”

Ace’s small hands clenched tighter against his uncle’s shirt, his voice trembling as he asked, “And then what?”

“And then,” Archer said, his voice thick with the weight of the years, “I went looking for you. I searched every damn island I could. Spent years on the run, fighting, stealing, killing just to get closer to finding you. I did things I’ll never forget. All because I promised Rouge—your mother—I’d protect you. And now... here we are.”

Ace was silent for a long time, his little chest rising and falling as he processed everything. Archer felt his own heart pounding, wondering what the boy was thinking, feeling. Wondering if Ace would hate the truth.

Finally, Ace looked up at him, his face streaked with tears. “Uncle Archer... I don’t want to be a Marine. I don’t want to be like them. I want to be... me.”

Archer smiled softly, though it was tinged with sadness. “Ace, you can be whoever you want to be. You’re not bound by who your parents were. Roger’s blood doesn’t define you. Rouge’s sacrifice doesn’t chain you to anything. Your fate is your own. You decide what your life will be. And if you want me by your side, I’ll be there. Always.”

Ace’s tears flowed freely now, and without hesitation, he buried his face into Archer’s chest, his small body shaking with sobs. “I want to be Portgas D. Ace,” he cried. “For my mother. For you, Uncle. You’ve done everything for me... I’ll carry her name. Not Roger’s.”

Archer’s arms tightened around him, pulling Ace close, letting the boy cry. His own heart swelled with emotion, a mix of pride and sorrow, love and pain. He rested his chin on Ace’s head, whispering softly, “I love you, Ace. I always have. And I always will.”

Ace sniffled, his voice muffled against Archer’s chest. “I love you too, Uncle Archer.”

They sat there together, wrapped in each other’s warmth as the sun began to set, casting golden light over the ruins of the stronghold. In that moment, it was just the two of them—uncle and nephew, bound by something deeper than blood. Bound by love.

The weeks that followed were a blur of tension for Archer. He couldn’t shake the feeling of unease that settled in his chest after hearing the news from Makino. A large Marine ship had been spotted a week’s travel from the island, and that could only mean one thing—danger. If they were searching for him, it wouldn’t be long before they came to Foosha Village, and if they found him, they’d find Ace too.

And he couldn't let that happen.

Garp had been right. For all his stubbornness and pride, Archer knew deep down that staying here would put Ace in more danger than either of them could handle. The thought of leaving tore at him, but there was no other choice. He had to lead the Marines away, buy Ace more time to grow stronger, more time to live freely.

Walking back toward Dadan’s hideout, Archer’s mind raced with how he’d break the news to Ace. His heart ached at the thought of seeing Ace’s reaction—knowing the boy would feel abandoned. But it was the only way.

When Archer finally sat Ace down, the boy immediately sensed something was wrong. And just as expected, as soon as Archer told him about the Marines and that he had to leave for a while, Ace exploded with anger.

“You promised!” Ace yelled, his voice cracking with emotion. “You promised you wouldn’t leave me!”

Archer stood there, weathering the storm of Ace’s rage, nodding solemnly. “I know, Ace. I know what I promised. But this... this is to keep you safe. If the Marines find me, they’ll find you. And I can’t let that happen. I have to lead them away, throw them off our trail. I have to do this for you.”

Ace’s eyes flashed with betrayal. “But you’re leaving! You’re still leaving!”

There was nothing Archer could say to make that hurt any less. He just watched as Ace stormed off, disappearing into the trees, the boy’s angry shouts still echoing in the air. Archer’s chest tightened painfully. It felt like the hardest thing he’d ever done.

He searched for Ace for hours, weaving through the forest, calling his name. Finally, he found him—up in the tree hut they’d built together, the place where they always went to escape the world. Ace sat curled up in the corner, his face streaked with tears but his expression hard.

Without saying a word, Archer climbed into the hut and sat beside him. They were quiet for a long while. Then, with a sigh, Archer pulled a dagger from his belt—a beautiful, wicked blade with intricate designs etched into the handle. Ace’s eyes widened as soon as he saw it.

“Where did you get that?” Ace asked in a small voice, the anger still there but tempered by curiosity.

Archer turned the dagger over in his hands, his thumb brushing over the markings. “It belonged to my father—your grandfather. Portgas D. Hunter. He gave it to me before he died.”

Ace’s eyes grew even wider. “My grandfather...?”

Archer nodded, the memory bittersweet. “Yeah. He was a tough old bastard. This dagger’s been with me a long time, and now it’s yours.”

He held the dagger out to Ace, who took it reverently, his small hands wrapping around the hilt as though it were the most precious thing in the world. Archer watched as Ace turned it over, admiring the craftsmanship, his eyes alight with something new—hope, maybe.

“Train with it,” Archer said, his voice firm but gentle. “Get stronger. And when I come back, I want to see how much you’ve learned.”

Ace looked up at him, his voice barely a whisper. “Do you really have to go?”

Archer’s chest tightened again. “Yeah, kid. I have to. But I promise, I’ll be back in eight months. And when I do, I’ll have stories to tell, and gifts to bring. We’ll pick up right where we left off.”

Ace swallowed hard, his fingers tightening around the dagger. Then, suddenly, he lunged forward, wrapping his arms around Archer’s neck in a tight hug. “I’ll miss you,” Ace mumbled into his shoulder.

Archer’s throat closed up for a moment, but he hugged Ace back just as tightly. “I’ll miss you too, Ace. But hey,” he pulled back slightly, grinning down at the boy, “while I’m gone, play some pranks on Dadan for me, yeah? Keep her on her toes.”

A small, mischievous grin tugged at the corners of Ace’s mouth. “You got it, Uncle.”

They sat together for a while longer, the silence comfortable now, as the weight of the world seemed to ease just a little. Eventually, Ace fell asleep in Archer’s lap, exhausted from the emotions of the day. Archer stayed with him until the sun started to rise, the golden light filtering through the trees.

Carefully, Archer shifted Ace onto the floor of the hut, brushing a hand through the boy’s unruly hair before standing up. He looked down at him, his heart heavy but resolute. This was for Ace. Everything he did was for him.

Before he left, Archer pulled out a small piece of paper and scribbled a note, leaving it where Ace would find it when he woke up:

8 months, punk. Remember to train and be a brat – Uncle A.

And with that, Archer slipped away into the early morning light, disappearing into the forest. He would lead the Marines away, far from Ace and this island, far from everything he cared about. But he would come back. He would always come back for Ace.

Chapter Text

Archer had forgotten how much he hated traveling, especially when it involved other people. The noise, the chatter, the constant questions—it grated on him in ways he hadn't anticipated. After years of living in the forest with Ace, surrounded only by the sounds of nature and the occasional bandit skirmish, being around so many humans felt suffocating. He longed for the open sea and the silence it promised, the freedom to go where he wanted without answering to anyone.

The small merchant vessel he’d hitched a ride on wasn’t ideal. It was slow, cramped, and reeked of fish. He kept mostly to himself, pretending to be just another quiet traveler headed for the next island over, but the sailors were curious. They asked questions, tried to strike up conversations. Archer ignored most of them, but it only made him stick out more.

He needed his own ship. That much was clear.

But Archer knew he couldn’t risk stealing or "borrowing" one this close to Dawn Island. Too many eyes were watching, too many patrols. And the Marines would still be hunting him. No, he had to play it smart. He had to get further away, put enough distance between him and the island that no one would link him back to Ace.

Ace.

The further away he got, the heavier his heart felt. At first, leaving had seemed simple enough. Lead the Marines away, throw them off the scent, come back in eight months. But now, with the horizon stretching endlessly ahead of him, the weight of those eight months pressed down on him like a vice.

He missed the brat. More than he thought possible. Every day away from him gnawed at Archer’s insides, a quiet, persistent ache that wouldn’t go away. The sound of Ace’s laughter, the feel of his small arms wrapped around his neck, the way he’d chatter on about his latest adventures or stupid pranks on Dadan—it was all too vivid in Archer’s mind. It didn’t help that every time he closed his eyes, he could picture Ace standing there, dagger in hand, determined to live up to his name.

“I’ll miss you, Uncle.”

Those words echoed in Archer’s mind, and he had to clench his fists to stop himself from turning back. Eight months. Only eight months.

“Oi, you alright there?” one of the sailors called out, a scruffy man with missing teeth and a curious stare. “You look like yer thinkin’ too hard.”

Archer grunted, not bothering to respond. He shifted his position on the deck, pulling the brim of his hat lower over his eyes. He didn’t want to deal with these idiots. He needed to focus, to think ahead, but every time he tried, his thoughts circled back to Ace.

He had promised to return, and he would. But eight months was a long time for a kid like Ace. Anything could happen. Garp could come back. The Marines could catch wind of something. Hell, even the bandits could mess up. The idea of not being there when Ace needed him made Archer’s gut twist painfully.

Still, he had to trust Ace. The boy was strong—stronger than Archer had been at that age. And smart, too, despite his wildness. With the dagger, he’d have a piece of his family with him, a reminder that he wasn’t alone. And if all else failed, Archer knew Ace would fight tooth and nail to survive. Just like Rouge had.

That thought was the only thing keeping Archer from losing his mind.

As the ship creaked and swayed beneath him, the open sea stretching endlessly on, Archer sighed deeply, leaning back against the wooden railing. The wind whipped through his hair, tugging at his clothes, but it wasn’t the same as the freedom he felt when he was with Ace. Nothing could compare to that.

But he had to stay focused. Eight months would pass quicker than he thought, and he needed to be ready. He would lead the Marines on a wild chase across the seas, leave them chasing ghosts and false trails. When the time came, he’d double back, silent as the wind, and return to Dawn Island. Return to Ace.

Eight months. He just had to survive eight months without the brat.

And then they’d be together again.

The North Blue.

Out of all the seas Archer had wandered through, he knew this one would be the worst. Cold, unforgiving, and full of people who had lost their damn minds somewhere along the way. There was a kind of madness in this sea, or at least that’s what Archer had always heard. Rumors about the Germa 66 and their twisted science experiments, or the ruthless pirates who saw no boundaries when it came to violence. All that mixed with the biting cold? Yeah, that would definitely do it.

If there was any place where the Marines would hesitate to follow, it was here. And if they did follow, well, Archer hoped they'd either be intercepted by the lunatics from Germa or meet their end at the hands of some bloodthirsty pirate crew. Either way, it kept the heat off Ace.

But first, he needed a ship.

He was still stuck traveling with regular folk, and it grated on his nerves more with each passing day. Every conversation, every awkward smile—he was done with it. His time on that merchant vessel had been spent in silence, but it wasn’t enough. He needed to get far enough away from Dawn Island to make his move. The North Blue was uncharted territory for him, a sea he’d never had reason to visit before. Which made it the perfect place to vanish for a while. No one would think to look for him there.

But damn, was it going to be cold.

Archer had a plan, though. He’d get a ship, maybe a ketch, something small enough to maneuver but sturdy enough to survive the rough North Blue waters. And warmer clothes, definitely. The ragged cloak and shirt he wore now wouldn't stand a chance in those brutal winds.

By the time he reached the port town, Archer had already started scouting for a ship. His golden hair was tucked beneath a worn hat, and he kept his head low, avoiding unnecessary attention. The docks were busy, but not overly crowded. Perfect for slipping in and out without anyone noticing.

He spotted a few vessels that might do, but nothing that stood out. Nothing that felt right. Until he saw it—a sleek ketch, moored quietly at the end of the dock, the kind of ship that could outrun a Marine warship if it needed to. Perfect. Now he just needed to figure out how to get his hands on it.

But first, clothes. He wasn’t going to freeze his ass off in the North Blue.

The town’s marketplace was small, but it had what he needed. After a quick stop to swipe a thick fur-lined coat and some decent gloves, Archer felt more prepared. He was moving through the alleys now, silent as a shadow, his eyes scanning for any signs of trouble or potential information.

Later that night, Archer left the tavern with a spring in his step, his purse heavier than it had been in weeks thanks to a good hustle in poker. The warm buzz of beer still lingered in his head, making the cold night air feel less biting than usual. But best of all? He now had exactly what he came for—information.

It hadn’t been too difficult. The ketch he’d had his eye on belonged to a couple of bounty hunters. Big, loud men who’d been more than happy to accept a few rounds on Archer’s tab. That was their first mistake. He’d kept the drinks flowing, and soon enough, the hunters were slurring their words and bragging about their ship, their exploits, and the fat reward they were chasing in the North Blue. The bounty on some pirate crew, it didn’t matter to Archer. All that mattered was that the idiots drank themselves into a stupor and passed out in the back alley, leaving their ship unguarded.

"Free transportation," he thought to himself with a smirk. Providers of "donated" resources, as far as he was concerned.

Whistling happily, he made his way down the cobbled street toward the harbor. The moonlight gleamed off the water, and the faint sound of waves lapping against the docks filled the night. Archer's heart raced in excitement. This was it. He was finally getting out of this town and off to the North Blue—far from Ace, far from the Marines. For now.

When he reached the docks, the ketch was exactly where he’d seen it earlier, still moored, gently rocking in the water. It was a sleek ship, built for speed more than battle. It didn’t take Archer long to untie it from the dock and slip aboard, his feet silent on the wooden deck. He checked the wind, unfurled the sails, and soon enough, the vessel caught a strong gust that pushed it away from the dock.

As the boat drifted out into the open sea, Archer hoisted the mainsail with a grin plastered on his face. He could feel the freedom coursing through him already, the rush of the open ocean, the distant stars above guiding his way. For the first time in weeks, he felt the weight lifting off his shoulders.

“Today,” he muttered to himself, “was a damn good day.”

But of course, when did anything ever go according to plan for Archer? Three weeks out on the open sea, things were going smoothly—or so he thought. The days blurred together, the steady rhythm of the waves rocking the ketch becoming almost soothing. Maybe a little too soothing.

One night, under a blanket of stars, Archer made a mistake. The same mistake that had followed the Portgas line since its beginning—he fell asleep.

When he woke again, his body stiff and the sun high in the sky, panic set in almost immediately. He scrambled to the wheel, his eyes darting to the horizon. Endless blue in every direction. No land, no familiar landmarks, nothing but sea.

"The compass," he muttered to himself, already feeling the dread creeping in as he yanked it from his belt. But the damn thing was spinning wildly, completely useless. "Piece of shit!" he yelled, chucking the compass to the deck.

He could feel his pulse racing now, his mind running in circles. Where the hell am I? The sun was blinding, and the wind wasn’t helping either, changing directions like it was mocking him. He scanned the horizon again, hoping for some sign, some clue that could give him a hint of his bearings.

Nothing. Just water, as far as the eye could see.

Archer would never admit it, but—yeah, he might have slightly panicked. Just a little. His heart pounded in his chest as his mind went through the options, but there weren’t many. No one was here to tattle on him, but that wasn’t much of a comfort. He cursed under his breath, pacing across the deck, trying to make sense of what he could do next.

Stay calm, stay calm, he repeated to himself, though the temptation to punch something—anything—was strong. He could fix this. He just needed a plan.

"Alright," he growled to himself, gripping the wheel. "First, figure out where the hell I am. Then, get back on course. Simple." Easier said than done, but what choice did he have?

At least, he mused bitterly, no one else was around to see him floundering. If Ace had been there, the little punk would have never let him live this down.

With a resigned sigh, Archer adjusted the sails, took a deep breath, and picked a direction at random. At this point, it was better than staying put.

He just hoped the ocean had some mercy left for him.

Some days later, Archer thought he heard a voice. Archer’s heart pounded in his chest as the ketch neared the rocky island. It wasn't land—just a massive, jagged rock protruding from the sea—but he swore he'd heard a voice. He’d been sure he was hallucinating, the isolation playing tricks on his mind, but the cry had been real. A faint, desperate voice pleading for help. It couldn’t be his imagination. Could it?

"Fuck," he muttered, gripping the wheel harder, his eyes scanning the rocks. "If this is some kind of trap…"

But the voice had been weak, barely audible over the waves. That was no trick. Archer felt something churn inside him, an old instinct kicking in—he wasn’t the kind of man to leave someone stranded, even in a place like this.

Pushing the ketch as hard as he could, Archer anchored close to the rock. He leaped from the boat, running toward the direction of the voice, his boots clattering on the uneven surface. As he rounded a corner, he skidded to a stop, and his breath hitched in his throat.

The sight before him was horrifying.

Two figures lay on the sharp rocks—a man and a boy. But they were barely recognizable as human, their bodies so emaciated that they looked more like skeletons draped in skin. The man's face was gaunt, hollowed out with hunger and exhaustion, and one of his legs was... gone. A crude bandage was tied around the stump where his leg used to be, stained with old blood.

Archer’s eyes darted to the boy. He was tiny—probably no more than eight or nine—his blonde hair matted and dirty, hanging over one of his eyes. The visible eye, though, was wide with fear, his cheeks sunken and pale. He looked like he hadn’t eaten in days, maybe weeks. And yet, he was the one who had called for help. With a voice so weak, it was a wonder Archer had even heard it at all.

The boy’s lips trembled as he met Archer’s gaze, barely able to lift his head. "Help us," he whispered, the sound barely escaping his dry throat.

For a moment, Archer just stood there, frozen. His heart pounded in his chest as the shock washed over him. What the hell had happened to them? A shipwreck? Pirates? It didn’t matter now—these two were on the edge of death.

Snapping out of his daze, Archer rushed forward, kneeling next to the boy. His hands were shaking as he reached for the kid, gently cradling his frail body in his arms. "I've got you, kid," he muttered, more to himself than to the boy, "I've got you."

He glanced at the man, the boy’s father, judging by the look of him. He wasn’t moving. Shit. Archer wasn’t even sure if the man was still alive, but there was no time to check. He had to get them both to the ketch, fast.

Summoning every bit of strength he had, Archer scooped the boy into one arm, then hoisted the man—God, he weighed almost nothing—over his shoulder. Gritting his teeth, he turned and began running back to the boat.

“Stay with me, kid,” Archer said through clenched teeth, his muscles burning as he made his way back across the rocks. “You’re gonna be alright. Both of you.”

The boy didn’t respond, his head lolling against Archer’s chest, but his shallow breaths told Archer he was still hanging on.

Archer reached the ketch, carefully laying the boy and the man down on the deck. Without wasting a second, he grabbed a canteen of water, bringing it to the boy’s lips. “Drink, kid. Slowly.”

The boy’s eyes fluttered open, and he took a sip, too weak to hold the canteen himself. Archer let him drink in small gulps, making sure he didn’t choke. He repeated the process with the man, though the man’s breaths were shallow, barely conscious.

Archer sat back, running a hand through his hair. “What the hell happened to you two?”

The boy looked at him, his voice barely a whisper. “Pirates... attacked our ship. We... we drifted...”

Archer’s jaw clenched in anger. He had a deep, abiding hatred for pirates, and hearing this only fueled that fire. He didn’t know who these people were, but they didn’t deserve this.

“Well, you're safe now,” Archer said, his voice softer. “I’ll get you both to shore, find you some real help.” He knew they needed more than he could give—a doctor, food, warmth. He wasn’t a savior, just a guy in a ketch with some bad luck.

The boy blinked, his voice shaking. “Thank you...” and then, the boy stated to talk.

Archer leaned back against the wooden railing of the ketch, his mind spinning after hearing the boy - Sanji's story. He ran a hand through his hair again, trying to process the magnitude of what the boy had just told him. Red-Leg Zeff—the man lying unconscious on his deck—was a famous pirate, a legend in his own right. Archer had heard of him, of course. Every sea-dog worth his salt knew about Zeff’s brutal kicks and his infamous adventures on the Grand Line.

But to hear that Zeff had sacrificed his own leg—ate his own leg—to save this kid? It left Archer speechless.

He took a long drag of his cigarette, letting the smoke curl up into the night air. He wasn’t much of a smoker, but tonight definitely warranted it. His life had taken some strange turns, but this? Stumbling upon a living legend and a choreboy, half-starved on a godforsaken rock in the middle of the sea?

Archer blew out a cloud of smoke and glanced at Sanji, who sat there staring at the floor. The kid looked so small, even though he tried to carry himself with some semblance of strength. It was clear he was haunted by everything he'd been through, the weight of it all pressing down on his tiny shoulders.

Sanji’s sea-blue eyes finally lifted to meet Archer’s. “Thank you… for saving us,” the boy said quietly. His voice was soft, but there was something fierce behind it, a determination that reminded Archer of someone. Someone he had just left behind.

“Don’t mention it, kid,” Archer replied, trying to shake off the emotion stirring inside him. “You both got lucky I came by when I did.”

Sanji nodded slowly, but he didn’t say anything more. Archer could see the exhaustion settling over him again, but there was also a wariness. He wasn’t sure if it was the boy’s natural temperament or if it was the result of being stranded, but the kid looked ready to bolt at any moment.

“What about you?” Sanji asked suddenly, his voice sharper now. “Why were you out here in the middle of nowhere?”

Archer smirked, taking another drag of his cigarette. “Bad directions, kid. I’m on the run.”

Sanji's eyes narrowed. “On the run? From who?”

“Let’s just say the Marines and I don’t get along too well,” Archer said, flicking the ash from his cigarette into the wind. He could feel Sanji’s gaze on him, sharp and suspicious, but Archer didn’t care. “What matters is you and Zeff are safe now. I’ll get you somewhere you can get proper help.”

The boy didn’t respond, just looked down at the deck again, lost in his own thoughts. After a moment, he spoke, his voice barely a whisper. “Zeff saved me. He gave me all the food… and then ate his leg…” Sanji trailed off, his voice cracking.

Archer’s heart clenched. He understood sacrifice—he’d seen it firsthand. His sister, Rouge, had sacrificed everything for Ace, and now Zeff had done the same for this boy. It was a brutal reminder of how cruel the world could be, but also how far people would go to protect those they cared about.

Archer crushed the cigarette beneath his boot and knelt beside Sanji, placing a hand on the kid’s shoulder. “Look, kid,” he said, his voice gruff but steady, “what Zeff did was because he saw something in you. You’ve gotta honor that, alright? That kind of sacrifice—it’s not something you let go to waste.”

Sanji sniffed, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. “I’ll never forget it,” he whispered. “I’ll become the best damn cook in the world, just like he always talks about.”

Archer chuckled softly. “Good. Keep that fire burning. But for now, let’s focus on getting you two back on your feet. Zeff’s gonna need more than just soup and bandages.”

Sanji nodded again, this time with more resolve. Archer stood, looking out over the open sea. This whole mess had thrown his plans off course, but he couldn’t just abandon them now. He had to get them somewhere safe, somewhere they could recover.

“Get some rest, kid,” Archer said, standing up. “You’ll need your strength. I’ll keep an eye on Zeff.”

Sanji looked up at him, his expression a mix of exhaustion and gratitude. He lay back down on the deck, curling up into a ball as sleep overtook him.

Archer watched him for a moment longer before turning back to Zeff. The man was still unconscious, his chest rising and falling with shallow breaths. Archer knelt beside him, checking his pulse and the state of his leg. The wound was brutal, worse than anything Archer had seen in a long time, but Zeff was tough. If anyone could pull through, it was him.

“Hang in there, old man,” Archer muttered, pulling a blanket over him. “You’ve got a damn good kid here.”

As Archer sailed away from the island, after leaving Zeff and Sanji behind in the care of a doctor, he couldn’t help but grin at the memory of their constant bickering. Saving the pair had turned into quite the adventure. It hadn’t been without its headaches—Zeff's grumbling and Sanji’s fiery temper made for a less-than-peaceful trip—but he didn’t regret it for a second. It had been nice, in a strange way, to have company again, even if they were both perfectionists.

He chuckled to himself, thinking about the oregano incident. Oregano-boy, he thought with amusement. Sanji had been so damn passionate about cooking, even when they were barely surviving. Zeff, on the other hand, had that gruff, no-nonsense attitude, but Archer could see the way he looked at the boy—the old pirate cared about Sanji like he was his own flesh and blood. It reminded him of how he felt about Ace.

The sea breeze picked up, filling the sails as Archer set his course for the North Blue. He’d spent enough time dodging marines, running false trails, and trying to stay off the radar. Now, he had to finish what he started: lead them away from Dawn Island, far enough that Ace would be safe.

As the sun set, casting an orange glow across the waves, Archer leaned on the railing, his mind wandering back to Ace. Only a few more months, he told himself. He’d promised Ace he’d be back in eight months, and Archer wasn’t one to break promises. But that didn’t make the distance any easier. He missed the brat—missed his constant energy, his questions, and even the way he’d whack bandits from his uncle’s back with that iron pipe.

A small smile tugged at Archer’s lips. That kid’s gonna be something someday, he thought proudly.

As he adjusted the sails, Archer took one last look over his shoulder, back toward the island where he’d left Zeff and Sanji. The old pirate’s promise echoed in his mind—something about serving Archer the best meal of his life if they ever crossed paths again.

Archer grinned. I’ll hold you to that, old man. He didn’t doubt for a second that Zeff would pull it off. And Sanji? The kid was on a mission to become the best cook in the world. Archer couldn’t help but respect that kind of fire.

Turning his gaze back to the open sea, he steered the ketch northward, the horizon beckoning him forward. It was time to face the cold, the crazies, and whatever else the North Blue had in store for him.

Chapter Text

Archer cursed himself under his breath as he trudged through the snow-covered streets of the northern island, pulling his coat tighter around him. “Idiot. Stupid, stupid, stupid,” he muttered, his breath forming small clouds in the freezing air. He had no idea what kind of brain fart made him think the North Blue was a good idea. Every bone in his body was chilled, and his fingers were practically numb.

The cold wasn’t even the worst part—his pride was. He should’ve known better. But no, here he was, freezing his ass off on some godforsaken rock in the middle of nowhere, trying to shake off the Marines. He sighed, picking up his pace. First things first, warmth and information.

Archer spotted the flickering sign of a bar down the street. His body practically screamed with relief at the sight. Almost running at this point, he threw the door open and stepped inside, immediately hit with a wave of warmth and the smell of cheap ale. It wasn’t fancy, but it would do.

He approached the bar, shaking off the cold. The barmaid—a plump, middle-aged woman with a sharp eye and a smile that seemed to promise a good time—greeted him. Flashing her a charming grin, Archer leaned against the counter, putting on his best flirtatious act. She didn’t know it, but she wasn’t his type since he plays for the other team. Still, Archer could be smooth when he needed to be. He wasn’t about to let that go to waste.

“What can I get for a handsome guy like you?” she asked with a smirk, wiping down the bar.

“Something warm, something strong,” he said, his grin widening. “And maybe some news. I’ve been traveling a while, could use some updates.” He winked.

The barmaid giggled, clearly enjoying the attention. After a few more flirtatious exchanges—her giggles increasing with each one—she leaned closer, giving Archer the rundown of the island’s situation.

It turned out the island was under the control of the Donquixote family, and more importantly, their infamous leader, Donquixote Doflamingo. That made Archer pause. Doflamingo, huh? That was a name with weight. The guy was known for pulling strings everywhere, one of the shadiest underground figures in the Grand Line. Perfect for what Archer needed.

He took a sip of the steaming drink she placed in front of him, letting the warmth flow through his frozen body. His brain started ticking away at the possibilities. Doflamingo’s presence meant the Marines would have an eye on the island, but wouldn’t interfere too much. It was exactly the type of chaotic situation Archer could exploit.

All I have to do is stir the pot, make myself known to the right people, and the Marines will catch wind. They’ll think I’m working with Doflamingo and chase me further north. Easy. He grinned, the plan forming in his mind.

Of course, the clock was ticking. He’d already lost a month helping Zeff and Sanji, and that left him with only three months before he had to head back to Ace. His promise to the kid weighed heavily on his mind. I’ll make it, he assured himself. I always keep my promises.

But for now, it was time to start some trouble.

Finishing his drink, he stood up, tossing a few coins on the bar. “Thanks for the warmth, sweetheart,” he said with another wink. “And for the news.”

The barmaid gave him a smile that suggested she’d hoped for more, but Archer had other things to do. Like wrecking whatever semblance of peace this island had. As he stepped out into the cold once more, his mind whirled with ideas. He’d need to make some noise—big enough to get the Marines’ attention, but not so big that Doflamingo himself came after him.

“Alright, let’s cause a scene,” he muttered, pulling his hood up and grinning like a madman. The sooner he started, the sooner he’d be back with Ace. And if there was one thing Archer excelled at, it was fucking things up when it counted.

Archer couldn’t believe his luck—or rather, his lack of it. Just as he was plotting how best to stir up trouble, the trouble found him instead. It started with chaos erupting in the streets.

The first thing he noticed was the enormous man in a feather boa. Seriously, who wore that kind of thing in the middle of a fight? This guy was like a walking fashion disaster with delusions of grandeur. He was tearing through the streets, holding a kid under one arm and shooting up the place with reckless abandon.

Archer blinked, his mouth slightly agape. What the actual fuck? He’d seen a lot of weird shit in his time, but this was a new level of absurd.

Behind the feathered man, three figures were hot on his tail, trying to either kill or capture him. They were fast, armed, and seemed to have their own agenda. And judging by the way they moved, they weren’t just random thugs—they had some kind of organization behind them.

Archer shrugged, deciding that if he was going to be in the middle of chaos, he might as well join the fun. He followed at a leisurely pace, keeping to the shadows and observing the scene unfold. It was like watching a really fucked-up parade—except with more shooting and less confetti.

As the crazy man with the feather boa continued his rampage, Archer couldn’t help but be intrigued. The kid he was holding looked terrified, his face hidden beneath a mop of messy hair. Who was this kid? Archer wondered. And why was this flamboyant idiot so desperate to protect him?

The streets were in utter disarray. People were running in every direction, seeking refuge from the mayhem. Archer, on the other hand, was content to watch and take notes. If this feathered lunatic was causing this much chaos, then surely the Marines would take notice. And if they did, then Archer’s job would be done for him.

At one point, the man with the feather boa ducked into an alley, followed by his pursuers. Archer decided it was a good time to get a bit closer, his curiosity piqued. He moved silently, slipping into the alley and staying hidden behind a pile of discarded crates.

The confrontation was intense. The feathered man was holding his own surprisingly well, even with the kid under his arm. He used a combination of acrobatics and sheer bravado to fend off his attackers. It was a wild, chaotic display of skill and lunacy. Archer raised an eyebrow—this guy was certainly entertaining, if nothing else.

Archer's luck was holding for now, though it was more a case of the universe deciding to toss him into the deep end of chaos. Huddled in the shadows, he kept his eyes fixed on the scene unfolding before him. The small kid was yelling frantically, his fear palpable. Archer was used to dealing with chaos, but this was next level.

And then, it hit him. The giant approaching with an even more extravagant feather boa was none other than Donquixote Doflamingo. He'd seen the man's face on enough posters and heard enough rumors to recognize him. The infamous warlord. This was no small-time skirmish; this was serious.

The attackers had left, and Archer could hear snippets of conversation. Rosinante, the man who had been helping the kid, was weak and had no use anymore. Doflamingo's cruel laughter echoed through the alley. The man was revealing his true colors, and it seemed like he was about to kill his own brother. This was a situation Archer couldn’t ignore. Not on his watch.

The air was charged with tension. Rosinante’s defiant words rang out: “The boy, Law, is long gone. You are the personification of all that is evil. I hope you die screaming and in pain one day.” A chilling proclamation, and then the sound of gunshots. Archer didn’t hesitate. He transformed into his grizzly bear form, the rage and urgency propelling him forward.

He barreled through the alley, slamming into Doflamingo with a roar. The impact was immense. Archer’s bulk and strength caught Doflamingo off-guard, sending him crashing into a stack of crates. The warlord was momentarily stunned, and Archer took the opportunity to clamp his powerful jaws around Doflamingo’s hand, severing it with a decisive bite. It was a brutal move, but it was necessary.

Doflamingo's cries of pain and anger filled the air. The warlord flailed, trying to regain his composure, but Archer was already sprinting towards Rosinante. The man was gravely injured but still clinging to life. With a quick assessment, Archer transformed and hoisted the massive Rosiante over his shoulder, grunting with the effort. It was like carrying a mountain, but Archer had no time for hesitation.

He sprinted back to the ketch, the weight of Rosinante on his shoulders slowing him down but not stopping him. Every second counted. The boat was already prepared for a quick getaway; Archer had planned well, if nothing else. He threw Rosinante onto the deck and sailing away at full speed.

As the ketch tore through the icy waters, Archer worked with frantic efficiency, tending to Rosinante’s wounds. The tall mans injuries were severe, but Archer’s focus was set. He had to keep Rosinante alive; the man’s survival was critical to understanding the full extent of what was happening.

Archer’s hands moved with a practiced precision, despite the chaos of the situation. He applied bandages and antiseptics, all the while grumbling under his breath. If he had to take up a second career, it might as well be as a nurse—though he’d prefer to never be in such a position again.

Rosinante stirred weakly, his eyes fluttering open. He looked at Archer with a mix of confusion and gratitude. "Who—who are you?" he croaked.

"Just a passerby," Archer said gruffly, still focused on his work. "You can call me Archer. I saved your ass, so you better stick around and explain what the hell is going on."

Rosinante tried to sit up but winced in pain. "Doffy... he—he's dangerous. He... he was trying to kill me because I defected. I couldn’t let him get his hands on Law."

Archer raised an eyebrow. "Law? That’s the kid’s name, huh? And what’s so special about him?"

Archer was no stranger to strange and difficult situations. His life had been a series of unexpected twists and turns, each more convoluted than the last. But when Rosinante revealed that he was a Marine captain and had been undercover in his brother’s pirate crew, Archer felt a pang of disbelief that was almost comical.

The giant man, lying unconscious on the deck of the ketch, had spilled a whirlwind of information before succumbing to exhaustion. His words echoed in Archer's mind, each detail painting a complex picture of loyalty, betrayal, and a quest for redemption. The situation was more tangled than a fisherman's net.

Rosinante had been working undercover, not just to gather intelligence but to prevent the recruitment of innocent kids into the pirate life—a noble if somewhat misguided mission. He had formed a bond with Law, the kid he had been trying to protect, and his personal struggle to cure Law's illness had driven him to desperate measures. The ultimate betrayal came from his own brother, who had tried to kill him. This was more than just a family feud; it was a clash of ideologies and survival instincts.

Archer shook his head, trying to make sense of it all. Here he was, having saved Rosinante from Doflamingo’s clutches, only to find out that this man was a Marine captain. The situation was precarious. Rosinante’s brother had a vendetta against him, and Doflamingo's influence extended far and wide.

Archer sat down heavily on a nearby crate, rubbing his temples. The cold wind howled around him as he thought about Ace, the promise he made to return, and how this new mess complicated everything. He had come to the North Blue to cause a diversion, not to entangle himself in Marine politics and family drama.

A groan from the bed brought him back to the present. Rosinante stirred, his massive frame shifting slightly. Archer stood and moved over to him, checking the bandages and ensuring that the giant’s wounds were still under control.

Rosinante’s eyes opened, though they were filled with pain and fatigue. "Where... where am I?" he mumbled.

"You're on my ketch," Archer replied, trying to sound as calm as possible. "You’re safe for now. But we need to talk."

Rosinante looked at him with a mixture of gratitude and concern. "I... I appreciate what you did. I didn’t expect... I didn’t think anyone would help."

Archer snorted. "Well, I didn’t expect to end up with a Marine captain on my boat. But here we are."

Rosinante tried to sit up, wincing from the pain. "You don’t understand. My mission was to stop kids from joining the pirate life, to protect them. Law... he’s been suffering because of this. I tried to do what I could, but..."

Archer interrupted him. "Yeah, yeah, I get it. You’re a hero with a messed-up family. But that doesn’t solve the fact that you’re a Marine, and I don’t exactly trust the Marines."

Rosinante’s eyes met Archer’s with a pleading look. "I understand your distrust. But my mission was always about protecting people, not following orders blindly. I’ve seen the wrong side of the Marine world, and I’ve tried to fight against it."

Archer raised an eyebrow. "And how do I know you’re not just another Marine playing a game? I’ve seen enough of those to last a lifetime." After that, none of them spoke.

Archer's gaze was as steely as the North Blue winds howling outside. The ship rocked gently on the frigid sea, but his mind was far from steady. He faced Rosinante, who was propped up on the makeshift cot, his massive frame slightly shaking with pain but his eyes sharp and attentive.

“Rosinante,” Archer began, his voice low and laden with gravity. “You’re not the only one with a mission. I have my own reasons for being here, reasons that involve a kid who means the world to me.”

Rosinante looked up, curiosity and wariness etched into his features. “What are you talking about?”

Archer exhaled slowly, choosing his words with care. “I’m Portgas D. Archer, the Golden Terror. I’ve spent the last three years protecting my nephew, Ace. The Marines took him from me, and now I’m doing everything I can to make sure he’s safe.”

The realization hit Rosinante like a sledgehammer. His eyes widened as the pieces fell into place. “You’re... the Golden Terror? I’ve heard the name. You’re one of the most wanted criminals.”

Archer’s eyes were unyielding. “That’s me. And while the world may label me as a criminal, all I care about is my family. I left Ace to protect him from a Marine threat, but now I’m facing a new set of problems. If you’re on the run from your brother, then I guess we have a common enemy since he is a warlord, protected by the world government, and the marines.”

Rosinante’s face showed a mixture of relief and apprehension. “And you’re telling me this now because…?”

Archer leaned in, his voice a harsh whisper. “Because if you want my help, you need to understand what you’re dealing with. I’m not just a guy with a bounty. I’m a man with a mission, and I can help you find Law if you’re willing to help me protect Ace.”

Rosinante studied Archer with a penetrating gaze. “You want my help in exchange for your assistance in finding Law?”

Archer nodded. “Exactly. The situation is complicated, and I’m not going to pretend otherwise. But right now, we both need allies. If you help me keep my nephew safe, I’ll do everything in my power to assist you in your search.”

For a long moment, the two men locked eyes, the weight of their respective burdens heavy between them. The silence was charged, each man evaluating the other, searching for hidden motives and sincerity.

Finally, Rosinante sighed deeply, the sound carrying both resignation and resolve. “Alright. I agree. I’ll help you protect Ace, and in return, you’ll help me find Law.”

A grim smile touched Archer’s lips. “Deal. But remember, Rosinante, this alliance is built on trust. If you double-cross me or put Ace in danger, I won’t hesitate to end this partnership. Understand?”

Rosinante nodded solemnly. “Understood.”

Archer turned away, his mind already racing with the next steps. He had a limited window to make things right, and this unexpected alliance with Rosinante might be the key to solving both their problems.

Days passed on the cold, open sea. The North Blue’s biting wind had become a familiar, constant companion, but Archer barely noticed it. He was preoccupied with the company he now kept. Rosinante had recovered faster than Archer expected. The man was a giant, towering over Archer by nearly a head, and he moved with an ease that belied his injuries.

The initial silence between them had gradually faded, replaced by the kind of cautious conversation that marked the beginning of a new understanding. The two men would often find themselves in the small cabin, talking over a shared meal or while repairing the ship. It wasn’t long before their dialogue became more relaxed, and Archer found himself starting to like the former Marine captain.

One evening, as they sat together in the dimly lit cabin, the steady hum of the ocean providing a backdrop to their conversation, Archer broke the silence.

“Rosinante,” Archer said, his voice cutting through the quiet. “I’ve been thinking about our plan. We’re heading to Dawn Island. It’s where my nephew, Ace, is. I promised him I’d come back in eight months, and I’m sticking to that.”

Rosinante looked up from the map he was studying. “Dawn Island, huh? Sounds like quite a place. And you think Ace is safe there?”

“He should be,” Archer said, nodding. “I’ve made arrangements. It’s not exactly the safest place, but he’s got some protection. I need to get back to him.”

Rosinante rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “And what about finding Law? He is the user of the Ope Ope no Mi. That’s going to be a challenge. The kid can teleport—makes him hard to pin down.”

“I know,” Archer said, leaning back in his chair. “But we’re not giving up. I’ll use my contacts, ask around. Maybe someone’s seen him or heard something.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Rosinante said with a hint of a smile. “I appreciate this, Archer. I didn’t expect you to stick your neck out like this.”

Archer shrugged. “It’s not just about you or me. It’s about doing what’s right. I’ve made mistakes in the past, but I’m trying to make things right now. I’ve got my reasons for helping you.”

“Yeah, I get that,” Rosinante said, looking out the window at the dark sea. “Law means a lot to me. He’s like a kid brother, you know? Can’t just let him down.”

Archer nodded. “I get it. And you know, for a Marine, you’re not half bad. I thought you’d be all about the rules and regulations, but you’ve got a good heart.”

Rosinante chuckled. “Thanks. I’ve seen a lot, done a lot. The world isn’t black and white. Sometimes you’ve got to bend the rules to make things right.”

“True enough,” Archer agreed. “We’ve got a rough road ahead. Finding Law will be tough.”

Rosinante’s eyes were serious. “Yeah, but we’ve got time. I’m grateful for this chance. I thought I was done for when Doflamingo showed up.”

Archer smirked slightly. “You’re not the only one who thought they were done for. Seems like we’re both lucky to be alive.”

Rosinante laughed softly. “Lucky, or just stubborn. Either way, I’m glad we’re in this together. We might just make it through.”

They shared a moment of understanding, both men recognizing the unlikely bond that had formed between them. Despite their differing backgrounds, they were now allies with a common goal. Archer found himself contemplating the possibility of friendship with this former Marine

Archer was practically vibrating with anticipation as the days ticked down. Two days left. Just two days before he would be back on Dawn Island with Ace. The weight of those eight months was almost gone, and Archer’s eagerness was palpable. He had nearly worn a groove in the deck with his pacing. Rosinante, sitting on a crate with an air of quiet amusement, watched him with a faint smile playing on his lips.

Archer caught Rosinante’s eye and shot him a glare, though it lacked any real heat. “You think this is funny, huh?” Archer grumbled. “I’m just a little bit excited to see my nephew again.”

Rosinante chuckled softly. “It’s not every day you see a grown man pacing like a caged animal. It’s kind of endearing, actually.”

“Endearing my ass,” Archer muttered, though his annoyance was half-hearted. “I’m just… ready to get home. You have no idea how much this means to me.”

“I can imagine,” Rosinante said, nodding. “We’re almost there. Should we start looking for a place to dock?”

Archer snapped out of his pacing and focused on Rosinante. “Yes, we need to find somewhere discreet. Can’t have the Marines or anyone else spotting us before I get to Ace.”

They spent the next few hours scouting out potential docking spots around the coast of Dawn Island. The sun was beginning to set, casting an orange glow across the water. Finally, they found a secluded cove that seemed perfect for their needs.

Once they were docked and the boat securely anchored, Archer felt a sense of relief. He turned to Rosinante, who had been quietly observing the entire process. “Alright, let’s get moving. We need to be careful. I don’t want to risk anyone finding us before I can get to Dadan.”

Rosinante nodded. “Understood. Lead the way.”

As they made their way toward Dadan’s stronghold, Archer filled Rosiante in on the details. “Dadan’s a good friend. She’ll help us lay low and keep you out of sight while I get things sorted with Ace.”

Rosinante looked curious. “And you think she’ll be okay with me?”

Archer stopped for a moment, giving Rosinante a serious look. “Of course she will. You’re with me, and that’s enough. She’s not one to turn away someone I vouch for. Plus, I think Ace will like you. He’s always been good with people.”

Rosinante’s face turned a faint shade of pink, and he looked out at the island, his blush deepening. “I hope so.”

Archer noticed the blush, and though he tried to focus on the task at hand, he couldn’t help but find the sight oddly captivating. Rosiante, with his usual confident demeanor, was now looking somewhat shy and bashful. It was a side of him Archer hadn’t seen before, and it was… surprisingly attractive.

Shaking off the thought, Archer nudged Rosinante playfully. “Come on, let’s get moving. I have a nephew to reunite with and a promise to keep.”

Rosiante’s smile widened, and he seemed to regain his usual composure. “Right behind you.”

As they walked towards Dadan’s stronghold, Archer couldn’t help but glance sideways at Rosinante. The blush on his cheeks was still there, and Archer wondered if Rosiante was feeling as out of place as he looked. It was a strange thought, but Archer decided to keep it to himself.

Archer’s heart pounded in his chest as they approached the stronghold. The familiar, slightly crumbling structure of Dadan’s place came into view, and the thrill of finally being so close to Ace made Archer’s steps quicken. He glanced over at Rosiante, who was walking beside him with a mixture of curiosity and skepticism in his eyes.

“Hey, you up for causing a little chaos?” Archer asked with a mischievous grin.

Rosinante raised an eyebrow. “Chaos? What are you planning?”

Archer’s grin widened. “Just a little welcome back party. Don’t worry, it’ll be fun.”

Before Rosinante could respond, Archer shifted into his bear form and roared with all his might. The sound was deafening, echoing through the forest and up to the stronghold. It wasn’t long before Dadan and her bandits came tumbling out of the stronghold like their asses were on fire, their panicked yells filling the night air.

Amidst the chaos, Archer spotted a small, familiar figure darting from the forest. Ace came barreling out, his face smeared with dirt but his eyes sparkling with excitement. He slammed into Archer’s legs with all the force of a small freight train.

“Uncle!” Ace yelled, his voice choked with emotion. “I missed you!”

Archer quickly shifted back to human form, his heart swelling as he scooped Ace into his arms. He hugged him tightly, both of them crying as they held each other. For a moment, the chaos around them faded into the background, and all that mattered was the reunion.

After a few minutes of emotional reunion, Ace pulled back slightly and looked at Rosinante, who was standing a few meters away, watching with an amused but slightly uncertain expression.

“Who’s this?” Ace asked, pointing at Rosinante.

Archer looked at Rosiante and then back at Ace. “This is Rosinante, Ace. He’s a friend of mine. He’ll be joining us for a while.”

Ace’s eyes widened with curiosity. “Is he part of your crew?”

Archer paused, trying to think of the best way to explain. “Well, not exactly. We’re not pirates or anything.”

Ace’s face fell slightly. “Oh, okay.”

Archer sighed and then tried a different approach. “Alright, fine. Rosinante and I are like co-captains of this adventure we’re on. How’s that sound?”

Ace’s eyes lit up again, and a broad grin spread across his face. “Co-captains! Cool! So we’re like a team?”

Archer chuckled, ruffling Ace’s hair. “Yeah, something like that. We’re a team, and Rosinante’s a part of it now.”

Rosinante stepped forward, a warm smile on his face. “Nice to meet you, Ace. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Ace looked Rosinante up and down, then nodded. “You’re pretty cool for a co-captain. I guess.”

Archer laughed and gave Ace a playful nudge. “Now, how about we head inside and get settled? Dadan’s probably going to have a lot of questions.”

As they walked towards the stronghold, Archer glanced sideways at Rosiante, who was chatting with Ace, clearly trying to win him over. Archer couldn’t help but smile at the sight. It felt good to be back, to see Ace so happy and to have Rosinante fitting in so well.

Archer had to admit, things were looking up. He’d made it back to Ace, and while there was still a lot of uncertainty ahead, for now, it felt like they were all in the right place. Even if it meant dealing with a grumpy Dadan and her bandits, Archer felt ready for whatever came next.

He looked at Rosinante, who had a genuine smile on his face as he interacted with Ace, and thought to himself, “Yeah, this is going to work out just fine.”

Chapter Text

Holy fuck, it was pure heaven to be back with Ace! Archer could hardly believe how much the boy had grown in the few months he’d been away. Or maybe it was just his sentimental side getting the best of him. But, damn, seeing Ace again, full of energy and life—it was like every part of him felt lighter.

From the moment Archer set foot on Dawn Island, Ace was practically glued to him, yammering on about everything that had happened while he was away. The kid talked so much Archer was surprised he didn't run out of breath. Whether it was stories about playing pranks on Dadan or sneaking out to explore the forest, Ace's mouth just wouldn’t stop. And Archer? He loved every second of it.

"Uncle, you should’ve seen it!" Ace said one morning, pacing around the firepit. “I put mud in the bandits' shoes, and they didn't notice until they tried to put 'em on! Dadan nearly had a heart attack from laughing.”

Archer chuckled, shaking his head. “That’s my boy, keeping the chaos going. You’ve been practicing, huh?”

Ace puffed out his chest proudly. “Of course! You told me to, right?”

Archer laughed again, ruffling Ace’s hair. "I did, I did. And you didn’t disappoint."

Rosinante sat nearby, quietly sipping his tea, watching the interaction with a soft smile. Archer could tell Rosi was still adjusting to their strange little family dynamic, but he was settling in. Ace had already decided Rosiante was “pretty cool,” though that didn’t stop him from bombarding him with questions either. Poor Rosi barely had a moment to himself.

“So, Rosinante,” Ace said, plopping down next to him, “do you have any cool powers like my uncle?”

Rosi choked on his tea, giving Archer a look of wide-eyed panic. Archer stifled a laugh. "Well, Ace, Rosinante got his own set of skills. Different from mine but still useful."

Ace looked unimpressed. “Can you turn into a bear?”

“No,” Rosinante said with a laugh, “but I can make people think they can’t hear anything. Comes in handy sometimes.”

Ace frowned thoughtfully, then grinned. “Huh. Maybe you can use that on Dadan when she’s yelling at us. That would be cool!”

Archer burst out laughing, imagining Dadan silently screaming while they all pretended not to notice. “I like the way you think, kid.”

The days passed in a blur of laughter, food, and Ace’s endless stories. Archer tried to soak up every minute of it. They explored the forest together, just like old times, climbing trees, causing a bit of mischief here and there. At night, Ace would curl up next to him, talking until he eventually passed out mid-sentence.

It felt like the world had finally settled back into place.

One evening, as the sun dipped low over the island, Archer sat by the fire, watching Ace run around with some makeshift sword he’d crafted from a stick. Rosi sat across from him, tending to the fire, the soft orange glow reflecting off his calm features. Archer leaned back, a rare moment of peace washing over him.

“You know,” Rosinante said quietly, breaking the silence, “you’re good with him. Ace.”

Archer glanced at him, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Yeah, well, the kid makes it easy. He’s got a good heart.”

Rosinante nodded. “You really care about him.”

“More than anything,” Archer replied, his voice a bit rougher than usual. “He’s everything, Rosi. I’d burn the world down for that boy.”

Rosinante smiled softly. “I believe you.”

They sat in comfortable silence for a while, watching Ace play, his laughter filling the air. Archer felt a warmth spreading in his chest, one that had nothing to do with the fire. He hadn’t felt this kind of happiness in a long time. It was rare, fleeting, but here—with Ace and Rosinante —it felt real.

As night fell, Ace finally slowed down, his eyelids drooping as he sat next to Archer, leaning his head on his uncle’s shoulder.

“I’m glad you’re back, Uncle,” Ace mumbled, half-asleep.

Archer wrapped an arm around him, pulling him close. “Me too, kiddo. Me too.”

One day, as Archer wrestled with the laundry, cursing under his breath, he heard a soft giggle from Rosinante who was sitting behind him. Seriously? Giggling? From a nearly three-meter-tall man?

Archer straightened up and turned around, affronted. "What the hell are you giggling at?" he demanded, holding up Ace’s shirt—well, what was left of it. Rosiante was sitting nearby, watching him with an amused grin, his giant hands wrapped around a cup of tea.

Rosi’s eyes crinkled with fondness as he pointed at the shirt. “That thing you’re fighting with… It’s practically a rag. Surprised it didn’t fall apart in the wash."

Archer glared at the shredded, threadbare piece of fabric. The smug bastard was right. With an exaggerated sigh, he tossed the shirt dramatically over the nearby cliff. “Fine. It’s garbage,” he muttered, crossing his arms. "Happy now?"

Rosi chuckled softly, still grinning. “Very.”

Before Archer could fire back with a snarky comment, he heard the telltale rustling of leaves. He looked up just in time to see Ace flying out of a nearby tree, landing squarely on Rosiante’s broad shoulders.

“Gotcha, Rosi!” Ace yelled, clinging to the giant man’s neck like a monkey, laughing triumphantly.

Rosinante let out a playful yelp of surprise, though Archer could tell he was indulging the kid. He reached up and grabbed Ace’s legs, hoisting him higher as Ace giggled uncontrollably.

"Hey, careful with the merchandise!" Archer smirked, walking over to ruffle Ace’s hair. "This guy’s too fragile for sneak attacks."

Rosi raised an eyebrow, pretending to look offended. "Fragile? Me?"

Ace snorted. "Uncle’s just jealous he can’t jump like me anymore."

Archer feigned a hurt expression, clutching his chest. “Low blow, Ace. Low blow.”

Ace laughed, still perched on Rosi’s shoulders, looking down at Archer with a mischievous grin. "You love me."

Archer smiled, shaking his head. "Yeah, yeah. I do."

Archer clapped his hands loudly, grinning like a madman. "Alright, listen up! We’re going on a guy’s trip to Grey Terminal. Time to stock up on supplies—and maybe have a little fun." He winked at Rosinante.

Ace’s eyes went wide, his excitement overflowing. "Really? We’re leaving the stronghold? Like, the actual outside?!" In his excitement, he almost toppled off Rosinante’s shoulders, flailing his arms in a little happy dance.

Rosinante chuckled, holding Ace steady by his legs. "Careful there, monkey boy. You’ll fall off before we even get started." He gave the kid a soft shake. "But first thing’s first. You’re not going anywhere until you clean up. You’re covered in dirt."

Ace wrinkled his nose in pure disgust. "Do I have to?" he whined, clearly preferring the idea of staying filthy.

Archer crossed his arms, raising an eyebrow. "If you don’t, I’ll personally throw you in the nearest river. Your choice."

Ace yelped and dashed off toward the washbasin, muttering complaints about how unfair life was. Rosinante chuckled, watching Ace scramble. "He really is a little monkey, isn’t he?"

Archer laughed and shook his head. "Yep. But he’s our little monkey." Then, turning to Rosi with a sly grin, he said, "By the way, when we get to Grey Terminal, I’ll be hustling some poker for cash. We’re running low."

Rosinante’s eyes widened, and the look of pure disbelief on his face was priceless. He blinked a few times, trying to process what Archer had just said. "Wait, poker?"

Archer clapped him on the shoulder, grinning wider. "You heard me right. While I’m hustling, you’re on Ace duty. Keep an eye on him. Kid’s a slippery little fucker."

Archer had definitely bitten off more than he could chew. The streets of Grey Terminal were absolutely packed, and the sheer number of people bustling about made him regret this little "guy’s trip." Holding Ace’s left hand in a firm iron grip—because he knew the kid would vanish into the crowd in seconds if given the chance—he moved through the mass of bodies. On Ace’s other side, Rosinante held his right hand, his towering height making him stick out like a sore thumb despite the half-hearted disguises they wore.

Archer had thrown on a worn-out hat and an old cloak, trying to hide his scars and distinctive golden eyes, but it was pretty much pointless. And Rosiante? Well, no disguise in the world could hide his almost three-meter-tall frame or that star tattoo plastered over his face. Still, Archer figured if things went south, they could always resort to plan B: beat the crap out of anyone who came after them.

As they weaved through the crowd, Archer felt the constant tug of Ace’s curious little arm. The kid’s wide eyes darted around at the new sights, trying to pull free of their grip to explore every interesting thing he saw. "Stay close, brat," Archer muttered, half-exasperated, as Ace gave an impatient huff.

"Can’t we just let go for a second?" Ace asked, wriggling. "I’m not a baby!"

Archer shot him a look. "Last time I let you out of my sight, you were halfway up a tree trying to fight a wild boar. I’m not taking any chances here."

Rosinante chuckled, amused by their bickering. "He’s got a point, Ace. Let’s not turn this trip into a rescue mission."

Finally, they spotted a market stall. Archer handed Rosinante a decent amount of berri. "Alright, big guy. Take Ace and get him something to eat. No more wandering off."

Rosinante nodded, keeping a firm grip on Ace’s hand. "What about you?"

Archer smirked and jerked a thumb toward the nearest tavern. "I’ve got some poor fools in there that need liberating from their money. Go me."

Rosinante just shook his head, a smile tugging at his lips as he led Ace toward the food stalls. "Just don’t cause too much trouble while we’re gone."

"Trouble? Me? Never," Archer replied with a wink before disappearing into the tavern.

Lady Luck was definitely smiling on Archer today. He made more berries than ever, and the best part? He barely had to cheat. Well, maybe just a little. As he stepped out of the tavern, his pockets jingling with coin, he looked around for Ace and Rosinante. He eventually spotted them tucked away in a quiet corner of the market, Ace sitting on Rosinante's lap, the big man's hand gently running through the boy’s messy hair.

Archer’s "Ace radar" immediately went off—something wasn’t right. Hurrying over, he entered the soundproof barrier Rosinante had cleverly put up around them. Kneeling in front of Ace, Archer softened his tone. "What’s wrong, kiddo?"

Ace, his little voice barely above a whisper, said, "It’s just... so loud. Too many people."

Archer glanced at Rosinante, who nodded and explained, "We bought some food but retreated here. It was getting overwhelming for him."

Nodding in understanding, Archer ruffled Ace’s hair. "You did good, kid. Sometimes it’s okay to need a little break. Ready to tackle the rest of the market?"

Ace nodded slowly, his face lighting up as Archer scooped him up and placed him on his hip. "Let’s go, brat. We’ve got some serious shopping to do."

Rosinante, standing up and stretching his long legs, fell into step beside them, his usual calm smile back in place. Together, they braved the bustling market again, this time in more of a hurry, determined to get everything Ace needed and then some. They bought clothes, supplies, and even a few trinkets, all the while keeping Ace close to them like a little monkey clinging to his perch.

As they wandered through the market, Rosinante suddenly veered off toward a stand. Archer raised an eyebrow, watching as the tall man made his way to a vendor. Curious, Archer and Ace followed, catching up just as Rosinante turned around with a big, goofy smile on his face, holding out two candied apples.

“For you both,” Rosinante said cheerfully, handing one to Ace and the other to Archer. “Since none of us caused any trouble today, I figured a special treat was in order.”

Ace, eyes wide with excitement, snatched his apple and immediately bit into it, mumbling a “Thanks, Rosi!” between chews. Archer, however, just stood there, glaring at the sticky sweet in his hand like it had personally insulted him. He didn’t even like sweet things. Still, the look on Rosinante’s face made it impossible to say no, so he took a small bite, forcing himself to chew.

Before he could grumble about it, though, an elderly woman approached them, smiling warmly. “Oh, what a lovely family you all are! Such a cute couple, and what an adorable son you have!”

Archer nearly choked on the bite of apple. Ace, quick as ever to catch on to the situation, grinned devilishly and piped up, “I love my daddies!” His voice was dripping with mischief as he leaned into Rosinante for extra effect, who was now looking entirely too flustered.

The old lady pinched Ace’s cheek and cooed at him, completely buying into the scene. “Such a sweet boy! You two are lucky to have him.”

Archer stood there, stunned, his face contorting into a mixture of disbelief and amusement. As soon as the woman walked off, Ace shot Archer a smug grin, still chewing his candied apple.

“Naughty brat,” Archer muttered, narrowing his eyes at the boy, though there was no real heat in it. He then glanced at Rosinante, whose face was a deep shade of red, clearly blushing again.

With a smirk, Archer couldn’t help but tease, “Looks like we make quite the couple, huh?”

Rosinante, still flushed, just gave a nervous chuckle, avoiding Archer’s eyes. “I, uh… wasn’t expecting that.”

Archer took another reluctant bite of his apple, shaking his head. “Yeah, well, neither was I.” He gave Ace a side-eye, though secretly proud of the kid’s quick thinking.

As the months passed, the peaceful days on Dawn Island felt like a fleeting dream. Two months had gone by in what seemed like the blink of an eye. Archer found himself once again making the trek to Makino’s bar, hoping for some good news but already knowing what he’d hear.

“Marine ships spotted again,” Makino informed him softly, her eyes full of concern. Archer sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. It was time.

He had made a promise to Rosinante —a promise to help him find Law, the boy he'd practically raised like his own. And Archer didn’t go back on his promises, especially not to those he considered family.

Returning to the stronghold, Archer found both Ace and Rosiante sitting together, Ace rambling on about something while Rosinante listened patiently. It was a comforting sight, but one that made his heart feel heavy knowing he’d have to break the news.

“We’ve got to head out,” Archer said, his voice even and calm. Both heads turned toward him. “Rosi and I need to find his kid, Law. It’s time.”

To his surprise, Ace didn’t immediately argue or throw a fit like he might have done months ago. Instead, the boy nodded solemnly, though the disappointment in his eyes was clear. They had been through this before, and Ace knew the drill.

“Eight months,” Ace said, his voice firm but with a hint of sadness. “Same deal. You’ll be back in eight months?”

“Eight months,” Archer confirmed, ruffling the boy’s hair. “I’ll be back before you know it.”

As they sailed out on their small ketch, the wind filling the sails, Rosinante stood quietly by Archer’s side, his tall frame relaxed as he looked out over the vast sea. After a while, he spoke, his voice soft but filled with gratitude.

“Thank you,” Rosinante said, not looking at Archer but instead at the horizon. “For keeping your promise to help me find Law… and for including me in your little family.”

Archer turned to look at him, the gratitude in his words warming something deep inside him. He smiled, lighting the cigarette that Rosinante had handed him. “When we find Law, we’ll all go back together,” Archer said, exhaling smoke into the cool air. “You, me, Ace, and Law. I bet those two will be thick as thieves.”

Rosinante chuckled softly at the thought, a small but genuine smile playing on his lips. “Yeah,” he agreed, his voice barely more than a murmur. “That sounds good.”

For a while, neither of them said anything, both of them enjoying the quiet companionship and the rhythmic rocking of the boat. The promise of returning to their odd little family—and maybe even expanding it—was enough to make the journey ahead feel a little less daunting.

As they sailed further away from Dawn Island, Archer couldn’t help but feel a sense of anticipation. They had a mission, and they had each other’s backs.

Rosinante and Archer 

Chapter Text

The years passed in a blur, and before Archer knew it, he was 21. His once scrawny nephew, Ace, was now 10 years old, full of fire and energy, and growing stronger with each passing day. And then there was Rosinante—old bastard. Though he was technically 29, he insisted on saying he was 25 every year, as if repeating it enough would make it true. Archer let him have it, though, because he could tell there was something else beneath the jokes.

They’d been searching for Law for years now, combing through every possible lead, every whisper of a rumor. But nothing. No trace, not even a hint. Law was 16 now, at least according to Rosinante, and Archer had a gut feeling the kid had long since left the Blues and was somewhere out on the Grand Line.

Though Rosinante never said it out loud, Archer could see the sadness in his eyes, the worry etched into his usually calm face. Every year that went by without finding the boy weighed heavily on him. And while Archer wasn’t the best at talking through emotions, he tried his damned hardest to keep the guy's spirits up.

Archer sighed, thinking about how much their little family had changed in the years they’d been looking for Law. On their visits back to Dawn Island, Ace would do his part, trying to make Rosinante laugh or sparring with him to keep his mind off the search. Despite everything, Ace had bonded with Rosi, and Archer was thankful for that.

On their travels, Archer and Rosinante had gotten to know each other even better than either of them had anticipated. Archer had quickly realized that, for all his intimidating height and Marine training, Rosinante was, without a doubt, the clumsiest person he’d ever met. The man could trip over thin air, and somehow manage to set himself on fire at the same time. It defied all logic.

One night, as they sat by the fire after yet another near-disastrous mishap involving Rosinante and a loaded bazooka—an item he seemed to have an unholy obsession with—Archer couldn’t help but laugh to himself. He looked over at Rosi, who was polishing the now safely unloaded weapon with an almost childlike enthusiasm, and shook his head.

"How in the hell do you keep managing to blow stuff up, man? It's like you're a magnet for destruction," Archer teased, poking at the fire with a stick.

Rosinante chuckled, not taking his eyes off the bazooka. "Hey, it's a skill! Besides, you're one to talk, Mr. ‘I Fall Asleep Mid-Bar Fight.’"

Archer groaned, his face heating up in embarrassment. That one still baffled him. He didn’t know how or why it kept happening, but every once in a while, he’d just... fall asleep out of nowhere. During the middle of a skirmish, while eating, even while steering the ship once. The worst had been the time they were deep in a tavern brawl, fists flying, chairs smashing—and suddenly, Archer had passed out cold. He’d woken up a few hours later slung over Rosinante’s back, the sound of the fight still echoing in the distance.

"Yeah, yeah," Archer muttered, rolling his eyes. "Don’t remind me. How many times have you had to carry me out of danger now?"

"More than I can count," Rosinante teased, his smile wide.

It was an odd dynamic, the two of them. Archer, the ferocious outlaw with a short fuse and a talent for chaos, and Rosinante, the bumbling giant of a former Marine/Pirate and now fellow outlaw who couldn’t walk across a room without causing a catastrophe. But somehow, they worked. They balanced each other out in a way that neither of them could quite explain.

Archer leaned back on his hands, staring up at the stars. “You know, I never thought I’d be able to stand having a former Marine as a friend. Let alone one who’s got a bazooka fetish.”

Rosinante gave a mock-offended gasp. “It’s not a fetish, it’s an appreciation for fine craftsmanship.”

“Sure, sure,” Archer smirked. “Just don’t blow us up with your ‘appreciation,’ alright?”

“Can’t make any promises,” Rosinante shot back with a grin.

Despite all the weirdness—falling asleep in the middle of fights, dodging bazooka blasts, and dealing with Rosinante’s clumsiness—Archer had come to trust the man with his life. Over the years, their strange partnership had turned into something deeper. They were more than just travel companions now. They were family, and maybe Archer had a little (big) crush on the older man. Not that he would admit it.

By sheer accident, Archer and Rosinante stumbled across Zeff’s floating restaurant, it was by pure accident—or rather, Archer’s infamously unpredictable sleeping habits. They had been navigating through the East blue when Archer had dozed off again, causing the ship to drift off course. When he awoke, the floating restaurant came into view. Archer would never admit it, but he knew deep down it was his fault. Rosinante just shook his head, laughing, but they decided to dock anyway.

As they approached the floating marvel, Archer’s heart leapt with joy. There was Zeff himself, the very same grumpy old man who had once been stranded on a rock. The wooden leg clattered against the deck as Zeff walked over with an imposing, yet welcoming stride.

“Archer!” Zeff’s booming voice filled the air. His face broke into a wide grin as he spotted Archer. Without hesitation, he enveloped Archer in a massive bear hug.

“Zeff! It’s been ages!” Archer said, laughing as he returned the hug with equal enthusiasm. “You won’t believe the mess I’ve been through.”

“And I’m sure you’ve got plenty of stories to share!” Zeff chuckled, finally letting Archer go. He then turned to Rosinante, sizing him up with a keen eye. “So, who’s this?”

“This is Rosinante, my partner in crime,” Archer said, giving Rosinante a nudge. “He’s been with me through thick and thin.”

Rosinante gave a polite nod. “Nice to meet you, Zeff.”

Zeff grinned, clearly pleased. “Nice to meet the man who’s managed to keep our Archer in line. You must be a saint.”

Rosinante blushed slightly, scratching the back of his head. “Just doing my best.”

Archer turned his attention back to Zeff, his excitement palpable. “So where’s Oregano-boy? I’ve been meaning to catch up with him too.”

Zeff’s eyes twinkled with mischief. “Ah, you mean little Eggplant? He’s around here somewhere.”

A few moments later, Zeff hollered, “EGGPLANT!”

A young voice, unmistakably Sanji’s, yelled back from somewhere inside, “What do you want, old geezer?”

Sanji appeared on the deck shortly after, his face lighting up when he saw Archer. “Archer! You’re here!” He ran over and enveloped Archer in a tight hug.

Archer laughed, hugging Sanji back. “It’s good to see you, kid. You’ve grown up so much!”

“Yeah, and I’ve been working hard,” Sanji said with a grin. “But it looks like you’ve had your fair share of adventures too.”

Zeff clapped Archer on the back. “Come on in, I’ve got a meal that’ll knock your socks off. I’ve been waiting to serve it to you since that day on the rock.”

The inside of the floating restaurant was just as impressive as the outside. The aroma of delicious food wafted through the air, making Archer’s stomach growl. Zeff led them to a table and served them a meal that could only be described as divine.

Archer took his first bite, closing his eyes in sheer bliss. “This is absolutely incredible, Zeff. Worth every bit of waiting.”

Zeff beamed with pride. “I’m glad you think so. It’s been a while, but I’m always happy to cook for friends.”

As they ate, Rosinante and Sanji exchanged stories, laughter filling the space between them. Archer felt a warmth that had been missing for a long time. Reconnecting with old friends and enjoying such a fantastic meal was a reminder of how lucky he was.

As the evening wore on, Archer leaned back in his chair, satisfied and content. He glanced at Rosinante, who was enjoying the meal just as much, and then at Zeff and Sanji. This reunion, this moment of happiness, was exactly what he needed.

It wasn’t all fun and games, of course. The celebration of good food and old friends took a serious turn when they received the latest bounties. Archer had just finished savoring a particularly delightful dessert when he stumbled upon a new newspaper issue that slapped him with a reality check. His jaw nearly dropped as he read the headline: “Golden Terror and Corazon’s Bounty Skyrockets to 250,000,000 Berries!”

Archer was at the table with Rosinante and Zeff, who were finishing their meals. He held the newspaper up, his eyes scanning the numbers with a mix of disbelief and exasperation. “Well, look at this,” he said, throwing the paper onto the table. “Seems like we’ve made quite the impression.”

Rosinante looked over at the paper and whistled. “250 million, huh? I guess blowing up a Marine ship and setting fire to a harbor will do that.”

Zeff’s eyes widened in surprise as he scanned the paper. “You two are famous! Or infamous, depending on who you ask.”

Sanji, still full from the meal, leaned over with curiosity. “What did you do this time?”

Archer let out a dry laugh. “You know, the usual. Accidentally blew up a Marine ship—thanks to Rosinante’s bazooka skills— and then set a harbor on fire because I fell asleep with a lit cigarette.”

Sanji stared at him in shock. “Seriously? You two are a walking disaster!”

Rosinante scratched his head, looking sheepish. “I didn’t mean to trip and blow up the ship. And Archer falling asleep with a cigarette? Well, that’s just one of those things that happen.”

Zeff shook his head with a chuckle. “You guys really need to be more careful. This kind of attention isn’t exactly what you want.”

Archer sighed and rubbed his temples. “Yeah, I get it. I didn’t think we’d hit the jackpot of trouble. I was just trying to keep us under the radar.”

Rosinante nodded in agreement. “Now that our bounties are up, we’re going to have to be even more cautious. The last thing we need is a Marine fleet on our tail.”

Archer looked at Rosiante with a half-grin. “Well, at least we’re making a name for ourselves, right? And hey, it could be worse.”

Zeff raised an eyebrow. “How?”

Archer leaned back in his chair and shrugged. “We could be facing a Grand Fleet or something.”

Zeff laughed, shaking his head. “True. But I suppose being famous—or infamous—has its perks. You’ve got people talking about you, which could be useful.”

Sanji nodded. “And it means you’re doing something right. Just try not to set more places on fire or blow up any more ships.”

Archer gave Sanji a playful wink. “I’ll do my best. But no promises.”

The goodbye to Zeff and Sanji had been bittersweet. Archer and Rosinante, their spirits high from the reunion and the good food, set their course back to Dawn Island and Ace. Their journey had taken them through quiet seas and bustling ports, but now they needed a brief stop on an unassuming island to relax and have a beer.

The tavern they chose was low-key, a perfect place to unwind. Archer and Rosinante found a corner table and settled in with their drinks. Archer, always one for making his presence known, was enjoying his beer and contemplating the peace when the door creaked open and in walked a figure in a long, green cloak. The figure moved with a purpose, and Archer’s instincts flared. His eyes narrowed, and he prepared himself for whatever this new visitor wanted.

Rosinante, ever the calm counterbalance to Archer’s brashness, didn’t even flinch as the cloaked figure approached their table. Archer, annoyed by the intrusion, didn’t bother with pleasantries. “Fuck off” he said bluntly.

Rosinante winced slightly at his friend's lack of tact, but before he could intervene, the cloaked man began speaking in a dramatic tone. He started talking about the Revolutionary Army and their fight against the World Government. He made some grand pitch about how they would be great assets and mentioned names that meant little to Archer but seemed to resonate with the stranger.

Archer opened his mouth to dismiss the man, but Rosinante beat him to it. The normally reserved Rosinante stood up with a fervor that Archer rarely saw. “Listen up,” he said, his voice cutting through the tavern’s noise like a knife. “We are not joining your little revolution. Just because Archer here is a Portgas and I’m the brother of Donquixote Doflamingo doesn’t mean we’re going to become figureheads for an organization that can’t even tell its head from its ass.”

The cloaked man looked taken aback, clearly not expecting such a blunt rejection. He stared at Rosinante for a moment, then turned and left the tavern in a huff, his cloak billowing behind him.

Archer watched as the man disappeared, then turned to Rosinante with a mix of admiration and surprise. “That was impressive,” Archer said, a grin spreading across his face.

Rosinante, still catching his breath from his passionate rant, gave a sheepish smile. “Well, someone had to tell him.”

Feeling an overwhelming surge of gratitude and something more, Archer acted on impulse. He reached out, pulled Rosinante close, and kissed him deeply. The kiss was sudden and unplanned, but it felt right in the moment. Archer’s heart raced as he pulled away, his face flushing with a mix of embarrassment and fear.

“I’m sorry,” Archer stammered, his voice barely above a whisper. “I didn’t mean to—”

Rosinante, who was also blushing furiously, looked at Archer with wide, surprised eyes. His voice was gentle and full of warmth. “hey,” he said softly. “I don’t hate you. I could never, I have wanted to kiss you since I met you”

The tension between them eased, replaced by a shared understanding and a newfound closeness. Archer reached out, taking Rosinante’s hand in his. They walked back to their ketch hand in hand, a silent agreement passing between them.

The evening sky was clear as they made their way back to their boat, their steps light and their spirits high. The kiss had changed something between them, but it was a change neither of them was unhappy about.

The trek up to Dadan’s stronghold was familiar and comforting, but today was different. Archer, in his bear form, lumbered up the well-trodden path, the weight of their supplies balanced expertly on his broad shoulders. Rosinante walked beside him, his hand resting on Archer’s fur, a gesture that had become their own silent reassurance over the years.

As they neared the stronghold, Archer let out his trademark roar. The sound echoed through the hills, a signal of their arrival that had always been greeted with enthusiastic, if chaotic, response. This time, however, something felt off. Instead of the usual warm welcome from Ace alone, they were met with a startling sight.

Three boys, not just one, came charging down the path. They were dirty, skinny, and covered in bruises. Archer’s keen eyes widened as he took in the ragtag group. They looked worn, and the sight of their injuries made something twist in his chest. What the hell had happened?

Ace, however, was his usual exuberant self. The moment he saw Archer, his face lit up with a grin that could light up the darkest room. “Uncle!” he yelled, launching himself into Archer’s arms the moment the bear form shifted back into human.

Archer caught him easily, hugging him tightly, the familiar warmth of Ace’s small body grounding him. He looked over at the other boys, who had stopped a few meters away, clearly intimidated by Archer’s bear form. They stared with wide eyes, their fear palpable.

Rosinante stepped up beside Archer, his gaze shifting from Ace to the other boys. He offered them a friendly wave, trying to ease their evident nervousness. “Hey, Ace, who are your friends?” Rosinante asked, keeping his tone light and welcoming.

Ace, still clinging to Archer, turned to face the group. “These are my friends, Sabo and Luffy! They’re staying with us now!” he said, his excitement barely contained.

Archer’s brow furrowed as he set Ace down gently. “Staying with us?

Ace had taken it upon himself to introduce the new additions to their makeshift family. “This is Sabo,” he said, pointing to the older boy with the top hat, “and this is Cry Baby, though his real name is Monkey D. Luffy.”

The boy named Luffy, a wiry kid with a straw hat that seemed much too big for his head, puffed out his chest proudly. Im gonna become the King of the Pirates” he declared, his voice brimming with determination. His wide, enthusiastic grin made it clear he was dead serious about his lofty goal.

Archer and Rosinante exchanged glances, both eyebrows raised in disbelief. The sheer audacity of Luffy’s claim was enough to make them look at each other with wide eyes. How was it that their lives had taken such a bizarre turn?

Archer and Rosinante caught Dadan just as she was about to head into the kitchen. They found a quieter spot away from the bustling chaos of the stronghold, pulling her aside to get some answers. The whole situation was wild, and they needed to know what was going on.

Archer leaned against the wall, his arms crossed. “Alright, Dadan. What’s the deal with all these new kids? Why are they here?”

Dadan shot them a steely glare, her arms crossed as well. “Well, you’ve got Luffy, the little troublemaker who’s apparently Garp’s grandson. The old man just dropped him here one day, saying he was ‘his problem now.’ And Sabo? He just appeared outta nowhere, like he’s always been here. Don’t ask me how. I’ve got no idea.”

Archer’s eyes widened in surprise. “Garp’s grandson? That’s a twist. So, the kid with the straw hat is Garp’s flesh and blood?”

Dadan snorted, shaking her head. “Yeah, and he’s got his sights set on becoming the Pirate King. Can you believe that? Karma sure has a sense of humor. Garp’s own grandson wanting to be a pirate. How ironic is that?”

Archer couldn’t help but chuckle darkly. “Well, well. Isn’t that just perfect. The old man must be having a fit over this.”

Rosinante, who had been quietly listening, finally spoke up. “So, what’s your plan now, Dadan? It sounds like you’ve got your hands full with these boys.”

Dadan sighed heavily, rubbing her temples. “Now I’ve got five of ‘you to look after. That’s why I’m giving you two the stink-eye. It’s your fault I’ve got to juggle these wild ones alone while you are sailing and making more trouble.”

Archer and Rosinante exchanged a glance, and Archer couldn’t help but feel a strange sense of satisfaction. It was oddly comforting that Dadan considered them part of her boys, even if it was begrudgingly.

“Yeah,” Archer said with a smirk. “And it looks like we’re all in this together. I guess we’re part of the gang now, huh?”

Dadan’s expression softened just a bit, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. “I suppose so. I never thought I’d have to deal with you two as ‘family,’ but here we are.”

Rosinante gave Archer a concerned look, sensing the mischief in his gaze. “What’s got you so amused?”

Archer leaned in, kissing Rosiante gently on the cheek. “Oh, nothing. Just thinking about the sweet, sweet irony of it all.”

Ace, who had been watching from the doorway, suddenly piped up with a wide grin. “So, did you two finally get together? Because if you did, Dadan owes me 500 berri!”

Rosinante’s eyes widened in shock. “What the hell? You’ve been betting on us?”

Ace shrugged, looking thoroughly unrepentant. “Yep! I knew it! I’m just waiting for my money now.”

Archer laughed, shaking his head. “You little rascal. You had that bet on us, huh?”

Chapter Text

If Archer thought life was crazy before, it was nothing compared to now. The chaotic, ridiculous whirlwind that followed the arrival of Luffy and Sabo had turned everything on its head. If he went gray before hitting 30, he was dead serious—he’d shave the heads of the terrible trio. Ace, Sabo, and Luffy.. Bald. No mercy. They were going to learn not to mess with him, one way or another.

Archer grumbled under his breath as he pulled off his boots, which were now full of honey. Honey, of all things. Sticky, gooey, and impossible to get out without soaking them for hours. He glared across the clearing at Ace, Sabo, and Luffy, who were huddled together, giggling like maniacs. “You little terrors! I swear, if I find another bug or mystery substance in my boots, you’re all getting shaved bald!”

Ace, grinning ear to ear, yelled back, “Good luck catching us first, Uncle!”

Archer opened his mouth to retaliate but paused when he heard the deep, familiar sound of laughter from behind him. Rosinante, leaning against a tree, arms crossed, was trying (and failing) to hold back his laughter. “You know, Archer,” he chuckled, “you did fall for that one. The kids are getting more creative.”

“Creative?” Archer scoffed, finally freeing his foot from the honey-soaked boot. “This isn’t creativity; this is war.”

Rosinante just shook his head, clearly amused. He was always so calm, so damn patient with the little hellions. Archer didn’t know how he did it. As if dealing with Ace’s constant mischief wasn’t bad enough, now they had Sabo’s adventurous spirit and Luffy’s boundless energy thrown into the mix.

Still, Archer couldn’t help but feel a begrudging fondness for the three. They were family now, even if they drove him insane on a daily basis. “Oh, laugh it up, Rosi,” Archer muttered, tossing his ruined boot aside. “But just you wait. Karma’s a bitch, and you’re not safe from it either.”

Rosinante waved off the warning with a dismissive smile. “You worry too much, Archer. What could possibly—”

Before he could finish, a gleeful shriek rang out from behind him. Luffy and Sabo had struck. And this time, their victim was Rosinante.

His beloved red hood, the one he was never seen without, was now dripping with thick, wet mud. Archer’s eyebrows shot up as Rosinante stood frozen, processing the horror that had just unfolded. Mud sloshed down his shoulders, sticking to his once-pristine cloak.

Archer grinned triumphantly. “See? Karma.”

Rosinante blinked in disbelief, finally shaking his head with a sigh. “I really should’ve seen that coming…”

Ace, Sabo, and Luffy were rolling on the ground, laughing uncontrollably at their handiwork. Archer folded his arms across his chest, watching Rosinante’s calm demeanor finally crack as he tried—and failed—to clean the mud off.

“Serves you right,” Archer said smugly. “You think you’re immune, but those kids don’t care about favorites.”

Rosinante shot him a playful glare, flicking some of the mud in his direction. “You could’ve warned me.”

Archer’s laughter echoed through the clearing as he watched Rosinante struggle to clean the mud from his beloved red hood. But his victory was short-lived. Before he knew what was happening, a cold, wet glob of mud smacked him square in the face.

His jaw dropped. “You… did not just—"

Rosinante’s triumphant grin was infuriating. Archer wiped the mud from his face, glaring at the tall man, who was now outright laughing.

Without thinking, Archer let out a loud war cry and launched himself at Rosinante, tackling him to the ground. "You bastard!"

Rosinante yelped as they both slipped and tumbled into the mud. What started as playful retaliation quickly turned into a full-blown wrestling match. Archer pinned Rosinante down for a brief moment, but Rosi, with his long limbs, was quick to flip the situation, rolling on top of Archer, pressing him into the muddy ground. The two of them wrestled like a couple of boys, not caring about the mud or their dignity.

"Give up yet?" Rosinante teased, his face inches from Archer's.

Archer grinned defiantly. “Not in a million years!”

They struggled for a few more moments, Rosinante’s weight eventually pinning Archer down. They were both breathless, covered in mud from head to toe, and grinning like idiots. Rosi’s face hovered just above Archer’s, his dark eyes soft with affection.

Then, without warning, Rosinante leaned in and pressed his lips to Archer’s. The kiss was slow and warm, a quiet moment of tenderness amidst the chaos. Archer blinked in surprise but quickly melted into it, wrapping his arms around Rosinante’s neck and returning the favor.

A loud, high-pitched “EWWWW!” cut through the moment like a knife. Archer and Rosinante froze mid-kiss, their heads snapping toward the sound. Standing a few meters away were the three terrors—Ace, Sabo, and Luffy—staring at them with wide eyes filled with equal parts horror and disgust.

Ace had his hands on his hips, trying to look annoyed, but there was a gleam of mischief in his eyes. Sabo was stifling a grin, while Luffy, being Luffy, had his tongue out like he’d just tasted something gross. "Are they kissing? That’s so weird!" Luffy exclaimed, wrinkling his nose.

Archer and Rosinante exchanged a look. Without saying a word, they both nodded, a silent agreement passing between them. Slowly, they stood up, eyes locked on the kids.

“Run,” Archer said in a low, dangerous tone.

Sabo’s grin widened as he started to back away. "Uh-oh."

“Too late for that,” Rosinante added, cracking his knuckles theatrically.

The chase was on.

Ace, Sabo, and Luffy took off screaming and laughing, darting through the trees as fast as their legs could carry them. Archer and Rosinante followed in hot pursuit, slipping and sliding in the mud as they chased the boys around the clearing. Luffy was the easiest to catch, as he kept tripping over his own feet, his laughter ringing through the air. Archer scooped him up like a sack of potatoes, making Luffy howl in protest. “Put me down, Uncle Archer!”

Ace and Sabo weren’t much luckier. Rosinante grabbed Ace, who tried to wriggle free, while Archer tackled Sabo into a muddy puddle, all of them now a filthy, laughing mess. The sounds of their playful wrestling filled the clearing, mixing with the rustling of leaves and the distant squawks of birds.

Eventually, all five of them ended up in a heap, completely covered in mud from head to toe, breathless from laughter. It was a mess, but none of them cared.

Then came the dreaded voice of Dadan.

“What in the hell have you all done?!”

They all turned to see her standing there, arms crossed, her expression caught somewhere between disbelief and amusement. She looked at the mud-caked group and groaned. “All of you—shower now! Before you track mud through my whole damn place.”

Still laughing, they scrambled to their feet, with Archer playfully nudging Ace and Luffy and Sabo toward the bathhouse. “Come on, you little monsters. Let’s get clean before Dadan makes us scrub the floors.”

Rosinante chuckled, wrapping an arm around Archer’s shoulders as they followed behind the kids. “Good thing we have each other in the chaos, huh?”

Archer grinned up at him. “Yeah. Wouldn’t want it any other way.”

And so, the five of them—dirty, tired, but happy—made their way to the showers, laughter still echoing through the clearing as the sun began to set behind them.

The evening had been a cozy affair, with Archer and Rosinante spending quality time with the kids. After a fun-filled day of playing and laughter, the children were now tucked away in their beds, fast asleep.

As the two men returned to the warm glow of the fireplace, the atmosphere shifted from playful to intimate. They sat close, their fingers intertwined, and Archer, feeling the warmth of Rosinante's strong presence, leaned his head on his shoulder. "I think I love you, Rosi,"

Archer whispered, his golden eyes glimmering in the firelight. His heart was pounding, and he felt vulnerable yet incredibly brave in this moment.

 Rosinante's heart skipped a beat at the confession. He had been waiting for this moment, craving Archer's affection and love. Without a word, he acted on his deepest desires.

In a swift move, he lifted Archer off the ground, tossing him over his shoulder in a playful yet passionate gesture. The younger man let out a startled laugh as Rosinante carried him towards the bedroom, his long legs dangling comically. Reaching the room, Rosinante kicked the door shut with his foot, his strength and agility surprising even himself. He gently tossed Archer onto the bed, his brown eyes sparkling with desire.

Archer's heart raced as he realized this was really happening—his first time, and it was with the man he loved. Rosinante crawled over Archer, his tall, muscular frame casting a shadow over the younger man. He captured Archer's lips in a fierce kiss, pouring all his pent-up emotions into it.

Archer, initially taken aback by the sudden intensity, quickly responded, his cheeks flushing with excitement. Their tongues danced, exploring each other's mouths with growing hunger.

Archer's hands roamed over Rosinante's broad back, feeling the hard muscles beneath his shirt. He wanted to touch every inch of this man, to memorize his body.

Rosinante's hands were equally eager, tugging at Archer's shirt, eager to reveal the lean, muscular torso beneath. Clothes were quickly discarded, thrown carelessly onto the floor. Archer's golden hair fell in waves around his face, contrasting with Rosinante's messy blond locks. Their bodies were a stunning display of masculinity, the lean and agile Archer against the powerful, built form of Rosinante.

Rosinante paused, taking in the beauty before him. He wanted to ensure Archer's comfort and pleasure, especially as this was Archer’s first time. Leaning down, he whispered, "Are you sure?  I want to make this perfect for you." Archer's breath hitched at the tender words. "Yes, Rosi. I trust you. Show me how it's done."

His voice was hoarse with desire, his golden eyes glazed with lust. Rosinante reached for the lube, coating his fingers generously. He positioned himself between Archer's legs, slowly pushing one finger inside, gently stretching and preparing him.

Archer gasped, his body tensing momentarily before relaxing into the sensation. Rosinante added a second finger, scissoring them gently, his thumb stroking Archer's inner thigh in a soothing motion. "Relax" Rosinante whispered, his breath hot against Archer's ear. "Let me take care of you." Archer moaned, his body yielding to Rosinante's skilled touch.

The sensations were overwhelming, a mix of pleasure and slight discomfort that quickly melted into pure bliss. Rosinante added a third finger, stretching Archer further, his other hand caressing Archer's erection, which was leaking pre-cum. "Please, Rosi," Archer pleaded, his voice thick with need.

"I need you inside me." Rosinante couldn't deny Archer any longer. He positioned himself at Archer's entrance, slowly pushing in, inch by inch. Archer's breath caught as he felt himself being filled, a sensation unlike anything he'd ever experienced.

Rosinante paused, giving Archer a oment to adjust, before pulling out slightly and thrusting back in, setting a slow, passionate rhythm. The bed creaked in time with their movements, the air filled with moans and whispered words of love.

Rosinante's thrusts became more urgent, his control slipping as Archer's tight heat enveloped him. Archer's hands gripped the sheets, his body arching to meet each thrust, his golden eyes screwed shut in pure ecstasy. "Oh fuckfuckfuck!" he panted, his voice raw. "I'm close. So close." Rosinante's brown eyes blazed with passion as he watched Archer's face, a mirror of his own desire.

"Cum for me, Archer," he urged, his voice strained. "Let me see it." Archer's release hit him like a wave, his body shuddering as he came untouched, his seed painting his chest and stomach.

Rosinante's name was on his lips as he rode out his orgasm, his golden eyes flying open to capture Rosinante's intense gaze. The sight of Archer's release pushed Rosinante over the edge. With a few final, deep thrusts, he emptied himself inside Archer, his body shaking with the force of his climax.

He collapsed onto Archer's sweat-sheened chest, his breath ragged against Archer's skin. They lay entangled, their hearts pounding in unison, the fire in the other room casting a warm glow over their satisfied bodies. This was love, raw and passionate, and it had just begun for these two men

Not all was fun and games, though. Ace had always been a bit of a daredevil, constantly pushing the boundaries, and for some reason, it seemed like testing Luffy had become his personal mission. Archer had lost count of the number of times he had to step in and prevent one of Ace’s so-called “tests” from ending in disaster. But nothing could compare to what happened that day in Grey Terminal.

It was supposed to be a simple supply run—stock up on clothes, food, and other necessities. Archer and Rosinante had taken the boys with them, hoping it would be a relatively calm outing. They should’ve known better.

While Archer and Rosi were helping Sabo pick out some clothes from a street vendor, Ace, as usual, got bored. Before anyone could stop him, he wandered off, and for reasons beyond Archer’s comprehension, he decided to attack two men and rob them. Luffy, of course, was left behind.

Archer was in the middle of haggling with a merchant when Ace came sprinting back, his face pale, voice shaky with fear.

“Uncle Archer! Rosi! Help! They—they took Luffy!”

The words hit Archer like a punch to the gut. His eyes widened, and he immediately dropped everything, his heart racing. "What do you mean they took Luffy?!"

Ace’s hands were trembling as he tried to explain, words tumbling over each other. “I— I thought it’d be funny to steal from those guys, but they—they grabbed Luffy after I ran. I didn’t know they’d—”

Rosinante knelt down in front of Ace, grabbing his shoulders firmly but gently. “Where did they go?” His voice was steady, but there was a fire in his eyes that Archer hadn’t seen often. He was just as pissed as Archer was, but Rosi kept his calm for Ace’s sake.

Without a single moment's hesitation, Archer let his instincts take over, not giving a single fuck about the chaos he was about to unleash. His body shifted rapidly into his Grizzly form, towering above the crowd. People around them screamed in terror, scrambling to get out of the way as Archer’s massive paws hit the ground with a thunderous stomp.

Rosinante, ever the quick thinker, didn’t even need Archer to explain. He instantly understood what Archer wanted to do. He grabbed Sabo and Ace, tucking one under each arm like a pair of unruly sacks of potatoes. With an impressive leap, Rosinante landed smoothly on Archer’s back, his grip firm but relaxed.

“Hold tight, kids!” Rosinante shouted to Ace and Sabo, his usual playful tone replaced by something more serious as he made sure they were both secure.

Archer’s nostrils flared as he sniffed the air, his enhanced sense of smell zeroing in on Luffy’s scent. The boy’s distinct mix of dirt, sweat, and a weirdly fruity undertone was unmistakable. Got him. With a powerful push of his muscular legs, Archer took off, his massive form barreling through the narrow alleys of Grey Terminal like a freight train.

People leaped out of the way, terrified and shouting curses as the gigantic bear tore through the streets. Archer didn’t care—he was focused entirely on getting to Luffy.

"How does he even get kidnapped this often?" Rosinante muttered, half to himself, half to Archer, as they raced through the marketplace.

Sabo, clinging tightly to Rosinante’s coat, shouted over the wind, “Is this normal for you guys?!”

Ace, who seemed far too used to the insanity, smirked. “Welcome to the family, Sabo!”

Rosinante chuckled, his voice strained from holding both boys. “Let’s just say it keeps things... interesting.”

As they approached the forest, the scents of the market faded, replaced by the fresh smells of greenery and the unmistakable scent of damp earth. But underneath it all, Luffy’s scent was still there—strong and clear.

Archer slowed his pace slightly, sniffing the air once more. They were close. He could feel it. Rosinante leaned forward, eyes scanning the treeline.

Archer’s blood boiled hotter than it ever had before. What the fuck was Ace thinking, leaving Luffy alone like that? The boy was only seven—still so small, still learning. And now, Luffy was tied to a damn tree, helpless and crying out for help as a group of filthy bastards beat him without a shred of mercy.

Every cry of "Ace! Archer! Rosi!" from Luffy tore through Archer like a knife, fueling the rage building inside him. His fists clenched so tightly that his knuckles turned white, and his heart pounded in his ears.

“I’m going to rip them apart,” Archer growled through gritted teeth, his voice dark and dangerous. Rosinante, standing beside him, said nothing but nodded grimly. His normally calm demeanor was gone, replaced with an icy fury Archer rarely saw in him.

Archer didn’t mince words as he stood over Porchemy, his eyes narrowed in cold fury. "You wanna know who we are? We're Luffy’s adopted uncles. And I don’t give a single fuck what he did or didn’t do to you. You touch him, hurt him, and I'll make sure you regret the day you were born."

Porchemy opened his mouth to protest, but Archer silenced him with a glare that could melt steel. He glanced at Rosinante and gave a quick nod. Rosi instantly raised his hand, creating his soundproof barrier once again, enveloping them in a bubble of eerie silence.

Without warning, Archer moved, brutal and precise, showing no mercy. His rage was like a storm unleashed. Porchemy and his men didn’t stand a chance. Fists and claws struck with deadly force, and though the thugs screamed in pain, none of it reached the ears of the three boys standing back, watching with wide, uncertain eyes.

The fight was quick but thorough. Archer didn’t hold back—he made sure Porchemy understood exactly what it meant to mess with Luffy. When it was over, Porchemy and his goons lay beaten, bloodied, and unconscious on the forest floor, no longer a threat.

Archer didn’t even look back at the carnage. His only focus now was Luffy.

He turned, his breathing still heavy with the remnants of his anger, and walked over to where Luffy had been tied to the tree. With a gentleness that contrasted sharply with the violence he had just unleashed, Archer scooped Luffy into his arms, holding the trembling boy close. Luffy clung to him, sniffling but safe, his small body shaking from the ordeal.

Rosinante dropped the soundfield, the normal sounds of the forest rushing back in, making the world feel right again.

Archer’s steps were slow and deliberate as he carried Luffy toward Ace and Sabo. The two boys stood frozen, watching him with wide, worried eyes. Ace, especially, couldn’t meet Archer’s gaze, his face pale and guilt-ridden.

When Archer finally reached them, he stopped and looked down at Ace, his voice stern but not unkind. "We're going home. Now."

Ace flinched at the tone but nodded quickly, his eyes still glued to the ground. Sabo, too, looked like he wanted to disappear into the earth, not daring to speak.

Archer glanced briefly at Rosinante, who gave him a silent nod of understanding. The tall man stepped forward, placing a comforting hand on Ace’s shoulder. “Come on,” Rosinante said softly, his voice far gentler than Archer’s. “Let’s go.”

As they made their way back through the forest, the tension hung heavy in the air. Luffy eventually calmed down in Archer’s arms, his small hand gripping Archer’s shirt like a lifeline. But the weight of what had happened—and what was yet to come—was clear in the silence that followed them all the way home.

Archer's steps were heavy as he walked with Ace away from the stronghold. The day's events had left a bitter taste in his mouth, and he struggled to keep his anger in check. Luffy and Sabo were in good hands with Dadan, but his focus now was on Ace.

When they were far enough away, Archer turned to Ace, his voice hard with disappointment. "What the fuck were you thinking? Stealing and getting caught? Then letting Luffy take the fall? That’s not how I raised you."

Ace’s eyes were filled with tears as he stumbled over his words, trying to apologize. "I'm sorry! I didn’t mean for any of this to happen. I—I was just... I was jealous."

Archer’s heart ached seeing Ace like this, but he needed answers. "Jealous? Of what?"

Ace wiped his eyes, sniffling. "Of Luffy. He calls you and Rosinante his uncles too. I thought... I thought maybe you wouldn’t love me as much."

Archer's frustration faded as he rubbed his forehead, trying to process what Ace was saying. He was about to respond when Rosinante approached, his hand gently resting on Archer’s shoulder.

"Relax, Archer," Rosinante said softly. "He’s just a kid."

Archer took a deep breath, letting the tension melt away. He looked at Ace, who was still crying, and gestured for him to come closer. He scooped the boy up into his arms, holding him tightly.

"Listen, Ace," Archer said, his voice softening. "We love you, okay? You’ve always been ours, from day one. It doesn’t matter what happened today. We’re always here for you."

Ace clung to Archer, his sobs turning into quieter sniffles. "Really? You mean it?"

"Yeah," Archer said, smiling gently. "If you want, you can call us ‘Dad.’ We love you just like a son. Always."

Ace’s face lit up with a mixture of relief and joy. "I’d like that," he whispered.

The three of them embraced, a hug that seemed to mend the day's wounds. When they finally let go, Archer and Rosinante guided Ace back to where Luffy was. They found the boys already fast asleep, their small bodies curled up in their beds, putting Ace between them.

Later that night, Archer crawled into bed beside Rosinante. Exhaustion weighed heavily on him, but the warmth and comfort of Rosinante’s presence was soothing. They lay there in silence, holding each other close.

"It's been a long day," Archer murmured, his voice barely audible.

Chapter Text

The warmth of the sheets and the steady presence of his partner grounded him in a way that nothing else could. He nestled in closer, resting his head on Rosinante’s broad shoulder, letting out a deep sigh of exhaustion and contentment.

Rosinante, always attuned to Archer's moods, responded with his own gentle sigh. He ran his fingers through Archer's hair, his touch soothing. After a few quiet moments, he broke the silence with a soft question. “What’s on your mind, Archer?”

Archer closed his eyes, letting the comfort of Rosinante’s fingers in his hair ease his tension. “I don’t know where to start,” he murmured, the weight of the day pressing on him again. But Rosinante’s quiet patience made him feel safe enough to unravel his thoughts.

“I’m scared, Rosi,” Archer finally admitted. His voice was low, almost as if confessing something he hadn’t even fully realized himself until now. “I’m scared that I’m replacing Rouge. That I’m stepping into her shoes in Ace’s life. She was his mother, and I don’t want to take that away from him.”

Rosinante stayed silent, listening. Archer appreciated that about him—he never rushed to speak, never interrupted when Archer needed to spill his worries. He just listened, his hand continuing its gentle rhythm through Archer’s hair.

“And I’m terrified of failing,” Archer continued, his voice trembling slightly. “Not just with Ace, but with Luffy and Sabo too. I never signed up to be a father figure to three wild boys. Hell, we’ve still got to find Law, and that’ll be four of them.” He laughed, but it was hollow, weighed down by the fear he tried to mask. “What if I can’t protect them? What if I screw up and they get hurt because of me?”

The words tumbled out now, all the things he had been bottling up. “Every day is a new challenge. Luffy’s just a little kid, and Ace... Ace still has so much anger in him. And Sabo, he’s got that sharpness, that edge, like he’s carrying some burden we don’t know about. And then there’s Law—God, Rosi, what if we never find him? I promised you we’d bring him home, and every year we’re away looking without luck, I feel like I’m failing you too.”

Rosinante didn’t speak right away, allowing the gravity of Archer’s worries to hang in the air. When he did speak, his voice was calm, but there was an intensity beneath it that let Archer know he was listening deeply.

“Archer,” he began, his hand slowing in Archer’s hair as he shifted to look at him. “You’re not replacing Rouge. No one could ever take her place, and Ace knows that. What you are... what we are, is something different. You’re giving him something she can’t—a future, guidance, love. That doesn’t erase her, it honors her. She would want him to be loved, just like you’re doing.”

Archer swallowed, the knot in his throat tightening at Rosinante’s words.

“As for failing...” Rosinante continued, “You’re not going to fail, because you care. Look at what you did today—running through the woods to save Luffy, making sure Ace knows he’s still loved even after making a mistake, that Sabo knows he has a place with us. That’s not failure, Archer. That’s being the best damn father you can be. And I know it’s scary, but that fear just means you’re doing it right. You’re thinking about them. You’re protecting them, even when it’s hard.”

Archer felt Rosinante’s arm tighten around him, pulling him closer. His heart ached, but in a way that was more reassuring than overwhelming. “And Law... we’ll find him. He’s out there, and when we do, he’s going to have a family waiting for him. Not just me, but you, Ace, Luffy, and Sabo. He’ll have a home. And we’ll be a mess of a family, but we’ll be his.”

The words sank into Archer’s heart, softening the sharp edges of his fear. He blinked against the tears that threatened to form, grateful beyond words for Rosinante’s steady, unwavering support.

“I just don’t want to mess this up,” Archer whispered, his voice barely audible. “I don’t want to lose any of them.”

“You won’t,” Rosinante promised, his voice filled with quiet conviction. “We won’t. We’ve been through too much to lose now. And you’re stronger than you think, Archer. You’ve already given these kids more love than they’ve ever known. That’s what matters.”

Archer sighed, the weight of his fears easing just a little under Rosinante’s reassurances. “I hope you’re right.”

“I am,” Rosinante said softly, pressing a kiss to Archer’s forehead. “Now get some rest. We’ve got three wild boys to wrangle tomorrow.”

Archer chuckled despite himself, his heart feeling lighter. He closed his eyes, letting Rosinante’s warmth and the sound of his steady breathing lull him into peace. Wrapped in Rosinante’s arms, Archer felt, for the first time in a long while, that everything might just turn out okay.

Outside thunder and rain stated to fall.

Rosinante stirred from his light sleep when he felt a small poke on his shoulder. At first, his groggy mind struggled to make sense of what was happening, but as his vision cleared, he saw Luffy standing beside the bed, his finger in his nose and his face battered from the encounter with the thugs earlier.

Rosi rubbed his eyes and sat up, trying not to wake Archer, who was still soundly asleep behind him. He reached out to gently touch Luffy’s shoulder and asked, in a soft voice, “Luffy, is everything alright?”

Luffy shook his head, pulling his finger out of his nose, and said in a small, shaky voice, “I’m scared of the lightning.” The storm outside had picked up, and the occasional flash of light from the windows must have frightened him. “But... I didn’t want to wake Ace or Sabo. They’ll just call me a crybaby.”

Rosinante smiled warmly at Luffy’s honesty. Without hesitation, he lifted the boy into the bed and placed him between himself and Archer. "It’s okay to be scared sometimes," Rosi reassured him softly.

As Luffy settled into the bed, Archer, still fast asleep, instinctively put an arm around him, pulling the boy close. Luffy nestled into Archer's chest, seeming to relax almost immediately under the warmth and security of the embrace.

Watching the scene, Rosinante's heart softened. He lay back down, smiling to himself. It was in moments like this that all the chaos and exhaustion of raising three boys seemed worth it. The bond they were forming, the love that filled their small, unconventional family—it made every challenge they faced feel surmountable.

Just as Rosinante was about to drift back to sleep, he heard the quiet creak of floorboards and the unmistakable sound of two sets of small feet sneaking closer to the bed. He didn’t even need to open his eyes to know who it was. With a soft chuckle, he patted the bed beside him and Archer. “Come on, you two,” he murmured, still half-asleep. “There’s room for everyone.”

Ace and Sabo, caught in their sneaky approach, exchanged sheepish glances but didn’t argue. They crawled up into the bed beside Rosinante, careful not to disturb Luffy or Archer. Once settled, Rosinante shifted, wrapping his arm protectively over the whole group, pulling Ace and Sabo close.

The storm outside continued to rumble, but inside, surrounded by the warmth and safety of their makeshift family, Rosinante finally allowed himself to fully relax. His last thought before sleep claimed him was how, despite the madness of their lives, he wouldn’t trade it for anything.

The next morning, Archer blinked awake, his mind gradually adjusting to the soft morning light filtering through the cracks in the window. He stifled a groan and stretched, only to be greeted by a rubbery little foot planted right in the middle of his face.

"Of course," he muttered, chuckling softly to himself. Pushing the foot aside, he glanced down to find Luffy, the culprit, sprawled out across the bed, one arm flung over Archer’s chest, snoring softly. But that wasn’t all. To his surprise, Sabo was lying fast asleep on his stomach, his blond head resting like a pillow against Archer’s abs.

Not that Archer minded, but this definitely wasn’t how he expected to start his day. He chuckled again, amused by the tangle of limbs that was now his life. His gaze shifted toward Rosinante and... well, his boyfriend hadn’t fared much better. Ace, in typical fashion, had draped himself across Rosinante's torso, his wild dark hair practically smothering Rosi's face. Rosi’s nose twitched under the tickling strands, but somehow, he was still fast asleep.

“Guess they decided to pile on us in the night,” Archer whispered to himself, his voice filled with affection. He couldn’t help but feel a pang of warmth at the sight of it all—his chaotic little family, messy and unpredictable, but his all the same. And now, this was their reality.

Boyfriend, huh? The thought crossed Archer's mind as he looked at Rosinante. He had never put the label on it, not out loud, but that’s what they were, wasn’t it? Partners in crime, lovers, best friends, and somehow, co-parents to these three wild boys.

Archer smirked. Rosi might be the clumsiest man to exist, but in this—parenthood, partnership—he was solid, unshakable. And that was everything Archer could have hoped for.

He carefully shifted Sabo, trying not to wake him, before leaning over and planting a soft kiss on Rosi’s forehead, his lips brushing against the hair that Ace had managed to get all over the place.

“Mornin’, old man,” he whispered teasingly, knowing full well Rosi was a few years older than him and would probably pout about the nickname later.

Rosinante stirred, eyes blinking open slowly, his face scrunched in mild confusion as he realized Ace’s hair was all over him. “Morning…” he mumbled, still half asleep, then froze as he noticed the tangle of limbs across them both. He gave a sleepy grin. “Looks like we’re under attack.”

Archer chuckled, his eyes filled with warmth. “Guess that’s what we signed up for, huh?”

Rosi nodded with a contented sigh. "Wouldn't trade it for the world."

Later that day, Archer made his way down to the village, heading straight to Makino's. The trip to Grey Terminal had gone completely sideways, and the boys still needed new clothes. Archer knew Makino could be trusted to pick up what was needed. After chatting with her and placing the request, he began the walk back to Dadan's stronghold, his mind wandering. Rosinante was on kid duty back at the hideout, and despite the chaos that came with it, Archer trusted him with the boys.

As he neared the stronghold, something caught his attention: three familiar heads—one dark, one blond, and one with that unmistakable straw hat—peeking out from behind a large rock. The terrible trio, heads pressed together, whispering furiously. Archer raised a curious eyebrow and, driven by a mix of suspicion and affection, decided to sneak closer to see what they were up to.

Carefully approaching, Archer’s breath caught when he realized what they were doing. Sabo held the dagger that Archer had given Ace long ago, its blade catching the sunlight as it sliced across his palm. Ace and Luffy had already made their cuts, their hands bleeding as they clasped them together.

The three boys, bound by a brotherhood deeper than blood, were swearing an oath. A blood oath.

Ace’s voice, clear and serious for someone so young, rang out, “No matter what happens, we’ll always be brothers. Forever.”

Luffy and Sabo nodded, eyes wide with solemn determination. “Brothers forever,” they echoed, sealing the pact with their intertwined, bleeding hands.

Archer felt a surge of pride so overwhelming it almost knocked him off his feet. Damn, these kids were something else. He knew their bond was already strong, but to see them swear a blood oath like this? It was the kind of loyalty and camaraderie he had always hoped Ace would find in others, and now here it was, unfolding before his eyes.

Still, they were too young to fully understand what they’d just done. And blood oaths weren’t to be taken lightly. Archer decided right then that he needed to have a talk with them, make sure they understood the gravity of the promise they’d made. He’d have to do it without killing the moment, though—they weren’t in trouble, and he didn’t want to ruin their sense of triumph.

Standing up, Archer backed away quietly and went to find Rosinante, who was helping Dadan move some heavy tree trunks near the edge of the forest. He gestured for Rosi to follow, and without a word, Rosi wiped the sweat from his brow and fell into step beside him. Archer led them back to the boys.

As they approached, the trio's heads shot up, startled at being caught. Ace, Sabo, and Luffy wore identical expressions of wide-eyed surprise, their hands still clasped together. Archer crossed his arms, giving them a look that was both stern and proud. "We need to talk," he said, his voice calm but firm. "No one’s in trouble, but we gotta have a chat."

The boys glanced at each other, nervous but curious, as Rosinante gave them a reassuring smile. "Come on, let’s sit down," Archer added, gesturing toward a nearby tree stump. "You three just made a big promise, and we want to make sure you know what it really means."

Archer began the talk by looking at the three boys sitting in front of him, their wide eyes filled with curiosity and a bit of nervousness. His voice was calm but firm as he spoke. "Alright, listen up. What you did today, making that oath? That’s not something small. Being brothers is one of the most important things in the world if you do it right. It can be the best thing that ever happens to you, but it’s also a responsibility."

The boys nodded eagerly, clearly understanding the weight of his words, even if they didn’t fully grasp the depth yet. Archer continued, "I’m gonna give you an example of what a good brother is, and Rosi here..."—he glanced over at Rosinante—"will tell you what it means when things go wrong between brothers."

Ace, Sabo, and Luffy leaned forward, hanging on to every word. Archer then began to tell his own story, the story of his sister, Rouge. He explained how they had grown up together, how Rouge had always been the stronger, braver one, and how, when she became pregnant with Ace, she asked Archer to protect him at all costs. He told them about her tragic death, the promise he made to her, and how he had searched for Ace for years, determined to find him. He explained how, even though Ace wasn’t his son by blood, he loved him as his own because he had promised Rouge—because that’s what a good brother does.

Ace’s eyes softened, and even though the boy tried to act tough, Archer could see the emotion welling up inside him. Sabo and Luffy looked at each other, clearly moved by the depth of the bond Archer shared with his sister and with Ace.

But the mood shifted when Archer gave a nod to Rosinante, signaling it was his turn. Rosinante, usually cheerful and laid-back, grew serious. He sighed deeply before beginning, and the boys' attention immediately shifted to him.

"You just heard what a good brother looks like," Rosi started. "Now, I’m going to tell you what happens when it goes wrong."

Archer, who had heard bits and pieces of Rosinante’s past but never the full story, found himself sitting up straighter, listening just as intently as the boys.

Rosinante began, “I was born a Celestial Dragon, just like my older brother, Doflamingo.”

Archer’s jaw dropped, and the boys' eyes widened even more, clearly not expecting that. Celestial Dragons were mythical, almost untouchable beings in the world, and the revelation hit everyone like a ton of bricks.

"Our parents left that life behind," Rosi continued, his voice quieter, "because my father believed we should live like normal people. We thought we could have a better life, but it didn’t go the way he planned. My mother died, and my father... my father was tortured. We were all tortured—because we were once Celestial Dragons. Doflamingo, though... he snapped. He couldn’t take it. He killed our father with his own hands."

The boys were stunned into silence, and even Archer could feel a chill run down his spine. Rosi’s voice was haunted by the past, but he pushed forward.

"I ran away, and I was saved by a Marine who became like a father to me. I became a Marine myself, trying to make up for everything. But Doflamingo? He rose through the ranks of pirates, became a warlord, a monster who recruited children, used them for his own gains. I went undercover in his gang to try and stop him, to save those kids. That’s when I met a boy named Law..."

Rosi paused, and Archer could see the deep pain in his eyes. "Law became like son to me, and I did everything I could to protect him. But Doflamingo found out. He tried to kill me and Law. Shot me five times before I was saved... by a passing, slightly drunk Archer."

The boys sat there, stunned, unable to comprehend how anyone could hurt their own brother like that.

Rosinante took a deep breath, his usual smile long gone, and finished, “Being a brother means protecting each other. It means putting the other before yourself, just like Archer did for Rouge. But when things go wrong, when greed and hatred take over... it becomes something terrible. Something you can never take back.”

Silence hung in the air for a long moment before Archer cleared his throat. “You three made a promise to be brothers forever, and that’s a beautiful thing. But it also means you’ve got each other’s backs, no matter what. You don’t betray that bond. Ever.”

Ace, Sabo, and Luffy nodded, their faces somber, the weight of the stories settling in.

Archer glanced at Rosi, who gave him a small, sad smile, and then he looked back at the boys. "Now, none of you are in trouble. I just want you to understand what it means to make promises like the one you made today. You’re family now, and family takes care of each other."

Archer cleared his throat, looking at the three boys who were still processing everything they had just heard. He crouched down, bringing himself to their eye level, his voice gentle but firm.

“Look,” he began, “we know we’re not your biological fathers. We didn’t raise you from birth. But that doesn’t change how we feel. Rosinante and I love all three of you like you’re our own kids. If you ever want to call us ‘Dad,’ that’s fine with us. And no matter what, we’ll always protect you. Always."

Ace, Sabo, and Luffy’s eyes filled with tears, and within seconds, all three boys rushed forward, wrapping their arms around Archer and Rosinante in a tight hug. Archer felt his heart swell as the boys clung to him and Rosi. There was a sense of something unspoken but deeply felt, like the bond between them had just solidified in a way words alone could never accomplish.

Rosinante, still slightly stiff from the hug, chuckled softly, but Archer could hear the emotion in his voice. “We’ve got you, boys. Always.”

They stayed like that for a while, wrapped up in each other, smiles and sniffles filling the air. But the moment was interrupted by the sound of a warm, gentle voice behind them.

“Well, this looks like a beautiful family moment,” said Makino with a soft laugh, her voice full of affection.

Turning around, Archer saw Makino standing with a large basket of clothes in her arms, smiling at the scene before her. Beside her was the slightly grumpy but well-meaning mayor, Wool Slap, looking like he’d been dragged along for the errand.

Archer got to his feet, brushing off some dirt before giving Makino a grateful smile. “Thank you, Makino. Really, this means a lot,” he said, gesturing toward the basket of clothes.

Makino waved her hand dismissively, still smiling. “It’s nothing, really. They need proper clothes, and I’m happy to help. Plus, I couldn’t leave them running around like little savages forever.”

Archer laughed, while Rosinante stepped over to Wool Slap, shaking the old man’s hand as he muttered something about “troublemaking kids” and “pirate nonsense.” Rosi, ever the charmer, managed to get a chuckle out of the mayor despite his grumbling.

“Alright, boys!” Archer called over to Ace, Sabo, and Luffy, who were still wiping tears from their eyes but now looking much more cheerful. “Time to try on those clothes. No excuses.”

The trio groaned in unison, their enthusiasm for the heartfelt moment quickly turning to dread at the thought of trying on new clothes. Makino giggled at their reluctance, holding out the basket.

“Come on, boys,” she said with a playful grin. “Let’s see if we can make you look a little less like wild animals.”

Reluctantly, Ace, Sabo, and Luffy shuffled over, casting exaggeratedly sorrowful looks at Archer and Rosi, as if they were being led to their doom. Archer couldn’t help but laugh at their antics.

"Don’t worry," Archer said, smirking. "You’ll live. Barely."

As the boys groaned dramatically and started rummaging through the basket, trying on various shirts, pants, and hats, the atmosphere lightened again.

Chapter Text

Watching the boys try on clothes was one of the funniest sights Archer had seen in ages. Ace, Sabo, and Luffy, usually so full of bravado, were completely out of their element. Ace, in particular, was blushing fiercely as Makino helped him with a shirt that seemed just a bit too big. Archer nearly doubled over with laughter, earning a sharp stink-eye from Ace, who looked like he wanted to crawl into the nearest tree and never come down.

Sabo was faring slightly better, grumbling under his breath as he inspected the sleeves of a jacket, trying to look as composed as possible. And Luffy? Well, Luffy was… Luffy. He was rolling around on the ground, trying to wrestle his way into a pair of pants like they were some sort of wild animal that had attacked him. The kid was a whirlwind of energy, and Archer couldn’t stop laughing at the absurdity of it all.

“Oh man, this is priceless,” Archer wheezed, wiping tears of laughter from his eyes as he nudged Rosinante, who was standing nearby with a grin. “Better than that time you fell into one of their traps, huh?”

Rosinante gave a mock groan, shaking his head as he recalled that particular disaster. “I still don’t know how they managed to hoist me up into the trees like that. And with honey…”

“That was their best work yet,” Archer replied with a snicker.

But the real kicker? The food. Makino, the saint that she was, had brought a load of food from her bar—more than enough to feed Dadan’s people and throw a proper feast. It was exactly what everyone needed after the long, emotional day. The moment the boys caught wind of the food, they abandoned their clothing struggles and bolted towards the crates Makino had brought, nearly knocking the poor woman over in their haste.

“They never stop, do they?” Rosinante asked, laughing as he watched the boys dive into the food.

“Not a chance,” Archer replied with a grin. “And honestly, I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

As the party began to take shape, with Dadan’s crew hauling crates of food and drinks out into the clearing, Archer noticed Makino and Wool Slap preparing to leave. Not wanting to let them go just yet, he pulled Rosinante and Dadan aside and made his way over to the pair.

“Makino, Wool Slap,” Archer began, his tone more serious now. “There’s something we need to talk about.”

Makino and Wool Slap exchanged glances, curiosity and slight concern flickering in their eyes. “What is it, Archer?” Makino asked gently.

“We need to make sure the village is protected,” Archer said, his voice low but firm. “If the village ever gets attacked—by pirates, bandits, or even corrupt Marines—I want there to be a way to warn us. Light a beacon. Something big that we can see from the mountains.”

Dadan, standing beside Archer, nodded her agreement. “My people can defend the village, and if Archer and Rosinante are home, they’ll be there to help.”

Wool Slap frowned, his hand rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “And in exchange for this protection…?”

Archer met his eyes evenly. “The village keeps our secret. No one knows that two outlaws with very big bounties are living up here. If the Marines find out, we’ll be hunted, and you’ll lose your protection.”

Wool Slap considered the offer for a long moment, his sharp old eyes flicking between Archer, Rosinante, and Dadan. Finally, he gave a nod, a reluctant but accepting smile crossing his face. “It’s a deal,” he said gruffly. “We’ll keep your secret, and if trouble comes, we’ll light the beacon.”

Makino smiled softly, her warm gaze resting on the boys, who were now stuffing their faces with meat and bread, laughing and jostling each other. “Thank you, Archer. This means a lot.”

Archer gave a short nod. “Just make sure the beacon is big enough to see, yeah?”

Wool Slap chuckled under his breath. “I’ll make sure of it.”

With that settled, Archer watched as Makino and Wool Slap made their way back down the trail toward the village, the setting sun casting long shadows over the mountains. Dadan gave Archer a hard clap on the back, her usual gruff demeanor softened just a touch.

“You’ve really changed things around here, Archer,” she said, her voice carrying a note of something Archer couldn’t quite place—maybe pride? “Not many would make a deal like that with us. You’re not such a bad guy.”

Archer snorted. “Don’t get too sentimental on me now, Dadan. I still think your mountain reeks.”

She laughed, and they turned their attention back to the clearing, where the party was now in full swing. The boys, covered in food and dirt, were running around in circles, shouting about pirate adventures and future conquests. Archer’s heart swelled with a mixture of pride, amusement, and something deeper—something he didn’t need to put into words.

Rosinante came up beside him, leaning in just enough to rest his shoulder against Archer’s. “You did good today.”

Archer looked at him, his grin softening into something more genuine. “We did good today.”

Without warning, Archer took off into the trees, laughing as he heard Rosinante shout after him. They sprinted through the forest, dodging roots and branches, their laughter echoing between the trees. For a few minutes, they weren’t outlaws or guardians or father figures.

Archer, with his playful demeanor and mischievous smile, teased Rosinante “Hey, Rosi, isn't this the perfect spot for a little adventure?" he said, his golden eyes sparkling with mischief. Rosinante, towering over Archer with his impressive height, blushed slightly, his blond hair falling into his eyes as he glanced shyly at the younger man.

They reached a majestic oak tree, its branches spreading wide, offering a natural sanctuary in the woods. Archer wasted no time, grabbing Rosinante by the waist and pressing him against the rough bark. The older man's heart raced, his breath quickening as he felt Archer's strong hands on his body.

Their lips met in a passionate kiss, tongues entwining as they explored each other eagerly. Archer's hands danced across Rosinante's broad chest, deftly unbuttoning his shirt to reveal a muscular torso adorned with a light dusting of hair.

Rosinante moaned into the kiss, his hands gripping Archer's shoulders, pulling him closer. The sound of his desire echoed through the forest. Archer's lips trailed down Rosinante's neck, leaving a trail of kisses and gentle bites that made the taller man arch his back and gasp.

With slow, deliberate movements, Archer knelt before Rosinante, his hands sliding down the older man's muscular thighs. He looked up with a seductive gaze, his golden eyes burning with desire. Rosinante's breath caught in his throat as he realized what was about to happen.

 Archer's lips parted, and he took Rosinante's length into his warm, wet mouth, sending a jolt of pleasure through the older man's body

Rosinante's hands tangled in Archer's wavy blond hair, guiding him as he suckled and teased with his mouth. He moaned Archer's name, his voice hoarse with lust, as the younger man's skilled tongue swirled and caressed his sensitive flesh.

Archer's throat welcomed Rosinante's girth, taking him deeper with each thrust, his hands firmly gripping Rosinante's hips to set the pace. The sounds of their pleasure filled the forest—moans, gasps, and the wet, slick noises of Archer's talented mouth working its magic.

Rosinante's thighs trembled as he struggled to stand, his orgasm building far too quickly. He wanted this moment to last forever, but the sensations were too overwhelming. Just as Rosinante was about to spill his release into Archer's waiting mouth, he pulled away, leaving the older man desperate and panting.

In a swift move, Rosinante turned Archer around, pressing the younger man's chest against the tree. Archer's breath quickened as he felt Rosinante's strong hands on his waist, tugging at his pants. With a gentle but firm touch, Rosinante pushed Archer's pants down, revealing his firm, rounded ass. He couldn't resist bending Archer over, running his hands over those perfectly sculpted cheeks. Archer's breath hitched as he felt Rosinante's warm breath on his exposed skin, anticipation coursing through his veins.

Rosinante's tongue darted out, tracing circles around Archer's hole, teasing and tantalizing. He rimmed Archer with slow, deliberate laps, sending waves of pleasure through the younger man's body. Archer moaned, his head thrown back, his hands gripping the tree bark as he surrendered to the sensations. Rosinante's fingers joined the dance, gently probing Archer's entrance, preparing him for what was to come. He added a twist of his wrist, finding and teasing Archer's prostate, making the younger man cry out in ecstasy.

"Oh shit, yes! Right there," Archer pleaded, his voice hoarse and desperate. Rosinante positioned himself behind Archer.

With a gentle thrust, he entered Archer, claiming him deeply. Archer's breath caught, his body welcoming the invasion, his hole clenching around Rosinante's girth. "Fuck, you feel so good," Rosinante growled, his voice rough with desire.

 He began to move, his hips thrusting in a slow, steady rhythm, each stroke eliciting a moan from Archer. The oak tree provided a natural support for Archer, allowing him to brace himself as Rosinante pounded into him, their bodies slapping together in a primal dance.

Archer's hands gripped the tree, his knuckles turning white as he urged Rosinante on. "Harder, Rosie, fuck me harder!" he cried out, his voice carrying through the forest. Rosinante obliged, his thrusts becoming more powerful, his balls slapping against Archer's cheeks with each forward lunge. As their passion reached a fever pitch, Archer's body tensed, his hole clenching around Rosinante's shaft.

He came untouched, his seed spraying the tree, his cries of release echoing through the woods as he called out Rosinante's name.

Rosinante, feeling Archer's orgasm, couldn't hold back any longer. He thrust deeply one last time, filling Archer with his own release, their bodies trembling in unison.

They collapsed against the tree, their hearts pounding, their breath ragged. Archer turned in Rosinante's arms, their lips meeting in a tender kiss.

As they later walked back to the party the laughter and music of the party had faded into the background, replaced by a tense and alarming scene. Garp, that old bastard, was towering over their boys, his face twisted into a scowl as he berated them.

The sight of Garp manhandling Ace, his giant hands gripping the boy by the shirt, made Archer’s blood boil. His vision narrowed in on the old Marine, and without a second thought, he transformed into his Grizzly form. He moved with a predator’s grace, his massive paws making no sound on the forest floor as he circled around to get behind Garp. The fur on his back bristled, and his eyes gleamed with a dangerous intensity.

From his vantage point, Archer saw Rosinante making his way toward Sabo, who was holding his cheek, wincing in pain. The look on Rosinante’s face was a mix of shock and concern, but it was clear he was preparing to act.

Garp’s thunderous voice cut through the night air. “You need to forget these pirate dreams, Ace! You should join the Marines! This is no life for a kid like you!”

Ace, his face pale and trembling, looked up at Garp with a mixture of fear and defiance. But then something changed. As his eyes locked onto Archer’s snarling form, a glimmer of hope and a determined smile crossed his face. In a flash of courage, Ace sank his teeth into Garp’s hand, making the old Marine yelp in pain. Ace seized the moment, grabbing Luffy and sprinting towards Rosinante, who was already making his way toward them.

“pappa!” Ace shouted, his voice high with desperation as he stumbled into the tall man’s arms, clutching Luffy tightly.

Archer’s massive form surged forward, his powerful legs propelling him through the air. He let out a deep, guttural roar that shook the trees, drawing Garp’s attention. The old Marine spun around, eyes widening in shock as he took in the sight of the towering Grizzly.

Archer watched as Rosinante’s normally gentle demeanor shifted into one of fiery intensity. The usually calm and composed man was now a force of righteous fury, his eyes blazing as he stepped toward Garp with an almost palpable anger.

“Garp!” Rosinante's voice thundered across the clearing, cutting through the night like a knife. “You need to fuck off before Archer bites your head off!”

The sheer volume of his voice made the trees shiver. Archer could feel the heat of Rosinante’s anger even from where he stood, and he couldn’t help but admire the way his partner stood up to the old Marine.

Garp, who had been retreating slowly, stopped and turned to face Rosinante. His face was a mix of confusion and stubbornness, clearly not used to being challenged in such a manner. The sight of Rosinante towering over him, his presence both intimidating and commanding, made Garp falter.

Rosinante continued his advance, his eyes locked onto Garp’s with a searing intensity. “I’ve never been happier to leave the Marines than I am now, if this is how a Vice Admiral treats children!” His voice carried the weight of years of pent-up resentment and disappointment. The kids, huddled behind Dadan, watched in wide-eyed amazement as the usually soft-spoken man unleashed his fury.

“Abandoning Luffy!” Rosinante roared. “Kidnapping Ace when he was just a baby! Hitting Sabo, a boy you don’t even know!” Each accusation was like a thunderclap, the force of Rosinante’s words punctuated by his powerful strides. The boys flinched at the raw emotion in his voice, and even Archer felt a pang of sadness as he saw their troubled expressions.

As Garp’s gaze fixed on Rosinante, his eyes widened with sudden recognition. The old Marine’s expression shifted from anger to shock. “You!” he bellowed, his voice echoing through the clearing. “Sengoku thought you were dead! And all this time you’ve been hiding here, with outlaws? He would be so disappointed in you!”

Rosinante’s lips curled into a disdainful smile. He stepped closer to Garp, his eyes flashing with a mix of contempt and sorrow. “Sengoku,” he said coolly, “might have saved me as a child, but where was he when my brother was slaughtering children for his own gain? Did he even bother to look for me when I disappeared?”

Garp’s face fell, unable to offer any retort to Rosinante’s biting words. He shifted uneasily, clearly caught off guard by the pointed accusation. The silence that followed was heavy, filled with the weight of unspoken regrets and unanswered questions.

Rosinante’s gaze remained unwavering as he continued. “If my boys want to be pirates, then so be it. I’ll even help them steal their first ship if it comes to that.” He turned to look at Archer, a soft, affectionate smile gracing his lips. Archer’s heart swelled with love and pride. Seeing Rosinante’s commitment to their family, his willingness to embrace their chosen path, made Archer fall even deeper for him.

Garp’s face twisted in frustration. “It’s my duty to educate Luffy with the ‘fist of love,’” he declared, his tone stubborn and inflexible.

Rosinante's laugh was humorless. “Educate him with what? Violence? You think that’s what he needs? He needs guidance, yes, but he needs love and support, not punishment.”

Garp opened his mouth to argue, but Rosinante cut him off with a fierce look. “You don’t get it, Garp. Luffy and the others don’t need the kind of ‘education’ you’re offering. They need to find their own path, one that’s full of hope and freedom, not a cage of expectations and harsh discipline.”

With a final, defiant glare, Rosinante turned back to Archer and the boys. “Come on, let’s get back to the party. The night’s still young, and we have a lot of celebrating to do.”

Archer watched as Rosinante took the lead, his resolve clear and unwavering. The boys, sensing the shift in the atmosphere, clung to their guardians, finding solace in their strength and unity. The party’s joyful noise seemed to recapture its previous warmth.

Garp, still standing alone in the clearing, looked on with a mix of frustration and grudging respect. He knew that Rosinante had made his choice, and it was clear that no amount of Marine ideology would change the path he had chosen for himself and the boys.

As Archer walked back to the clearing, he glanced at Rosinante, who was speaking quietly with the children, his expression softening.

As they tucked the boys in for the night, the room was filled with a comforting, quiet lull. The once-chaotic evening had settled into a serene calm, with the gentle rise and fall of the children’s breathing creating a peaceful backdrop. Archer stood by the door, watching Rosinante as he smoothed the blankets over Luffy, Sabo, and Ace, his expression tender and protective.

Once the boys were snug and asleep, Archer gently closed the door behind them, catching Rosinante’s eye with a mischievous glint. They walked down the dimly lit hallway, their steps light and almost inaudible. As they reached their own room, Archer reached out, taking Rosinante’s hand in his.

Rosinante glanced at him, a knowing smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “What’s on your mind?” he asked softly.

Archer leaned in closer, his voice barely more than a whisper. “You know,” he began, his eyes twinkling with admiration, “when you gave that speech earlier, when you stood up to Garp... that was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”

Rosinante’s eyes widened in surprise, followed by a burst of laughter that seemed to light up his whole face. “Is that so?” he asked, his voice tinged with amusement and warmth.

Without waiting for a response, Rosinante cupped Archer’s face in his hands and leaned in, their lips meeting in a tender, loving kiss.

As they pulled back, their foreheads resting against each other, Rosinante’s eyes sparkled with a mixture of mischief and tenderness. “I’m glad you think so,” he murmured, his breath warm against Archer’s skin. “I just wanted to make sure our boys knew they were protected and loved.”

Archer smiled, his heart swelling with a profound sense of contentment. “You did that and more,” he said softly. “You made me fall even harder for you tonight.”

A week later, as the sun began to dip below the horizon, casting a warm golden glow over the harbor, Archer and Rosinante stood by their ketch, the sails already set for their journey to find Law. The sea breeze carried a mixture of salt and sadness as they prepared to say their goodbyes. The boys—Ace, Sabo, and Luffy—stood together, their faces streaked with tears, their expressions a mix of reluctance and sorrow.

Archer crouched down to Ace's level, his voice soft yet firm. "Remember, Ace, we’ll be back in eight months. And while we’re gone, try not to get into too much trouble, alright? But if you do, make sure you don’t get caught. We don’t want Dadan yelling at us when we return."

Ace managed a shaky smile through his tears, nodding. “I’ll be good, I promise. But you better come back safe!”

Sabo and Luffy echoed similar sentiments, their young faces etched with a mix of admiration and sadness. Luffy, always the most dramatic of the trio, clung to Archer’s leg with a firm grip. “Don’t forget about us!” he shouted, his voice breaking.

Rosinante knelt down beside Luffy, gently prying his little arms off Archer’s leg. “We’ll never forget about you,” he said softly.

The final moments of farewell were filled with a heartfelt mix of hugs, promises, and a few last-minute jokes to lighten the mood. Archer and Rosinante both did their best to maintain their composure, despite the emotional weight of the moment. They each took turns giving the boys a final embrace, whispering words of encouragement and love.

As they climbed aboard the ketch, Archer and Rosinante glanced back at the shore one last time. The boys stood together, watching them with tearful eyes, waving vigorously.

The sails were hoisted, and the ketch slowly pulled away from the dock. The boys' figures grew smaller and smaller, their waving hands becoming mere specks in the distance. Archer felt a lump in his throat, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill. Rosinante stood beside him, his expression equally somber, but a comforting hand rested on Archer’s shoulder.

None of them knew that when they would return, one of their boys would be missing. Not to be seen for years.

Chapter Text

The wind tugged at the sails as the ketch cut through the waves, heading steadily toward the South Blue. Archer stood at the helm, the familiar salty air filling his lungs, but there was an ache deep in his chest. He hadn't been back to the South Blue in over a decade, not since the day he ran away, determined to find Ace and keep his promise to Rouge. The memories stirred inside him, a mixture of warmth and grief that twisted his insides.

Archer's eyes were fixed on the horizon, but his mind was far from the present. He hadn’t even visited Rouge’s burial place since he left. The thought of seeing the old house—if it was still standing—sent a wave of conflicting emotions through him. A part of him wanted to avoid it altogether, to keep those memories untouched. But another part, the one that never let him forget his sister’s final moments, knew he owed it to her. He owed it to both Rouge and Ace.

Beside him, Rosinante moved silently, his presence a comforting anchor against the emotional storm swirling in Archer’s heart. Archer glanced over at him and couldn’t help but feel a surge of gratitude.

Rosinante came up quietly behind Archer, wrapping his long arms around him and resting his chin on Archer's shoulder. Archer felt the warmth of his partner seep into his tense muscles, and he leaned back, letting his head rest in the crook of Rosinante’s neck. The sea stretched out endlessly before them, but the weight of their destination—Baterilla—was heavy in the air. They were getting closer, and with that closeness came memories Archer had buried deep.

"You know," Archer muttered, his voice soft but filled with an edge of dry humor, "if Law’s in Baterilla, I’m gonna whoop his ass so hard he won’t be able to sit down for days."

Rosinante’s laugh rumbled through his chest, and Archer could feel the smile against his cheek. "I’ll hold him down for you," Rosi teased, the sound of his laughter lightening the heaviness of the moment. "The little brat’s due for some consequences anyway, beeing so good at hiding and all."

Holding Rosinante’s hand tightly, Archer led him through the quiet, winding streets of Baterilla. The village seemed frozen in time, the same as it had been all those years ago when he left. The sea breeze carried the familiar salty air, but the weight of memories made everything feel heavier. As they reached the top of the hill, Archer veered left, toward an old abandoned house.

It was the house.

Time had not been kind to it—the once vibrant walls had faded, and the wooden beams were cracked and weathered. It stood, barely holding itself together, a ghost of the home it had once been. Archer stopped in front of the sagging door, taking a deep breath. His chest felt tight, the memories of his sister, Rouge, flooding his mind. This was where everything had started. And where, in many ways, it had ended too.

Rosinante squeezed his hand gently, a silent reminder that he wasn’t alone in this. Archer let the warmth of Rosi’s presence ground him. For a moment, he just stood there, staring at the house, the weight of his past pressing down on him.

“I didn’t think it’d feel like this,” Archer muttered, his voice barely above a whisper.

Rosinante didn’t say anything, just kept holding his hand, waiting patiently.

Taking another deep breath, Archer reached out and pushed the door open. It creaked loudly, resisting after years of disuse, but eventually gave way. The interior was dark and dusty, cobwebs clinging to every corner. The once-cozy living room was a shadow of what it used to be, the furniture covered in dust and decay.

Stepping inside, Archer felt a strange sense of loss and familiarity all at once. Every step he took echoed loudly in the quiet house, the floor creaking beneath his boots. His eyes darted around the room, landing on the remnants of old memories—a broken vase, a chair tipped over, the faded portrait of his sister that still hung crookedly on the wall.

"She loved that damn chair," Archer whispered, his voice hoarse as he pointed to the old rocker near the window. "Used to sit there for hours, waiting… hoping that Roger would come back."

Rosinante stayed close, his hand never leaving Archer's, his presence an unspoken source of comfort.

Archer’s breath caught in his throat as he walked further into the house, memories flooding back—Rouge’s smile, her laughter, her tears as she handed him the most important promise of his life. The weight of that promise felt heavier here, in the place where it was made.

Taking a deep breath, Archer hesitated for just a moment before pushing the door to Rouge’s old bedroom open. The hinges creaked, the sound echoing in the stillness of the house. As the door swung wide, the room inside was revealed, frozen in time. Dust clung to everything, coating the surfaces with a thick layer of neglect. But other than that, it was exactly as he remembered it.

The bed where Rouge had died was still unkempt, the sheets twisted and piled, as though she had simply slipped away and never returned. The crib stood in the corner, a quiet reminder of the life that had begun in this room but never truly had a chance to grow up here. Archer’s eyes fell on the chair—the same one he had thrown in a fit of despair when he realized Ace was gone. It still lay on its side, undisturbed.

The silence of the room pressed down on him, each object a stark reminder of the past. Archer's chest tightened as he stepped inside, his feet stirring up small clouds of dust. He ran his fingers along the edge of the crib, his mind replaying the moment he had discovered that Ace had been taken, the heartbreak of it still fresh even after all these years.

His eyes drifted toward the wall, where three pictures hung. The first was a small, faded photograph of him as a kid. His bright eyes and cheeky grin seemed worlds away from the man he had become. The second was a picture of Rouge as a child, her smile soft and kind, her eyes full of hope and mischief. She looked so much like Ace, it hurt to look at her.

But it was the third picture, the larger one, that made his breath catch in his throat. It was of their family. His parents stood tall, with him and Rouge in front of them, the two of them smiling, unaware of the tragic future that awaited them. They looked so happy, so whole. A family, before everything fell apart.

Archer’s heart ached as he stared at the photo. His parents, who had been taken too soon. Rouge, whose sacrifice had saved Ace. And him, the last one left to carry the weight of their memory.

Rosinante, standing quietly behind him, watched as Archer took in the room. He didn’t say anything, just let Archer process it all in his own time.

Archer moved to the bed, brushing his hand over the dusty sheets. He remembered sitting here, holding Rouge’s hand as she grew weaker. She had been so determined, so strong, even in her final days. Her will to protect Ace had been unshakable. And then, one day, she was gone, and so was the baby.

"I didn’t even get to say goodbye," Archer muttered, his voice barely audible. "She was just... gone."

Rosinante stepped closer, placing a hand gently on Archer’s shoulder. "You’ve been carrying this for a long time."

Archer nodded, his eyes still on the bed. "I never came back. I couldn’t. Not after what happened. I just ran… I ran after Ace, and I never stopped. I never let myself deal with this."

He glanced at the photos on the wall again, the weight of his guilt and grief pressing down on him. "She died here. She gave everything for him, and I... I left."

"You did what you had to do, Archer," Rosinante said quietly. "She would understand that. You kept her promise. You found Ace, and you’ve done everything you could for him. That’s what matters."

Archer swallowed hard, his emotions swirling. "I should’ve come back.”

"You did what you had to do, Archer," Rosinante said quietly. "She would understand that. You kept your promise. You found Ace, and you’ve done everything you could for him. That’s what matters."

Archer swallowed hard, his emotions swirling. "I should’ve come back. I should’ve been here for her."

Rosinante stepped in front of him, cupping his face gently and forcing him to meet his gaze. "You honored her in the best way possible—by making sure Ace was safe. She wouldn’t want you to live with this guilt. She’d be proud of you, Archer."

The sincerity in Rosinante’s voice made Archer’s throat tighten. He closed his eyes for a moment, taking in the comfort that Rosi always seemed to bring, the way his presence could make the worst things feel just a little more bearable.

"I don’t know what I’d do without you," Archer whispered.

"You’ll never have to find out," Rosinante replied softly.

For a long moment, they stood in the room, surrounded by the ghosts of Archer’s past. The weight of the years pressed heavily on Archer, but with Rosinante there, it felt like a burden he could finally begin to let go of.

Turning away from the bed, Archer looked at the photos one last time. "We should visit her grave," he said, his voice steadier now. "I owe her that much."

Rosinante nodded, squeezing Archer’s hand reassuringly. Together, they left the room, closing the door behind them, leaving the past where it belonged.

Archer winced as the sharp pain shot through his leg, glancing down to see Ymma, the ancient caretaker of Barterilla’s cemetery, holding her cane like a weapon. Her wrinkled face was twisted into a scowl, her sharp eyes staring up at him with disapproval, though there was a glint of amusement hidden deep in those steely irises. He could hardly believe she was still alive, much less still spry enough to give him a solid whack.

"Ymma!" Archer yelped, rubbing his leg. "What the hell was that for?!"

"For leavin' and not visitin' your sister sooner, you fool!" she barked, shaking her cane at him. "I was wonderin' when you'd finally show up. Thought you forgot all about this place, huh?"

Archer opened his mouth to respond, but before he could get a word in, Ymma was already turning to Rosinante, who, to Archer’s utter annoyance, was stifling laughter behind his hand.

"And you!" she pointed the cane at Rosinante, who instantly straightened up. "What’s so funny, huh? You think it's funny that this lummox went gallivanting around the world while his sister’s been restin' here all this time?"

Rosinante raised his hands in mock surrender, trying his best to keep a straight face. "No, ma'am. Absolutely not."

"Good answer," Ymma huffed, satisfied for the moment. She then turned back to Archer, who was still nursing his sore leg. "Now, you come here and give me a proper hello, boy."

Despite the sting from her cane, Archer smiled as he leaned down and gave the old woman a gentle hug. "You haven't changed a bit, Ymma."

"Neither have you," she said gruffly, though her tone softened as she gave him a once-over. "Still the same troublemaker you were when you were a kid."

Archer chuckled, standing back up. "Yeah, I guess some things never change."

Ymma squinted up at him, her cane tapping rhythmically on the ground as she sized him up. "Come lookin' for Rouge, I suppose?"

Archer nodded, his throat tightening at the mention of his sister. "Yeah. I... I wasn’t sure where she was buried."

Ymma let out a raspy laugh. "Of course, you don't. You ran off before we could bury her, didn’t ya?" She turned and began hobbling away, motioning for the two of them to follow her. "Come on, then. I’ll take you to her."

Archer followed behind Ymma, his hand still gripping Rosinante’s. His heart was pounding in his chest. He hadn’t prepared for this moment—he wasn’t sure he could ever have been ready. Coming back here after so long, seeing where Rouge was buried, it felt like he was finally facing something he’d been running from for over a decade.

They walked through the quiet cemetery, passing old gravestones weathered by time and the salty sea air. The farther they walked, the more Archer’s anxiety gnawed at him. Rosinante’s presence was the only thing keeping him grounded at that moment, his thumb rubbing soothing circles on Archer’s hand.

Finally, Ymma stopped in front of a modest gravestone nestled beneath a large, old tree. The branches swayed gently in the breeze, casting soft shadows over the stone. The grave was simple—no grand markers or elaborate carvings—just a single name etched into the stone: Portgas D. Rouge.

Archer stared at the gravestone for a long time, his chest tightening as the reality of it all hit him once again. This was where she had been all this time. His sister. Gone.

Ymma leaned on her cane, giving Archer a moment of silence. "She was a good girl, your sister," Ymma said quietly. "Did what she had to, to protect that boy of hers. The whole village knew it."

Archer nodded, his voice caught in his throat. "Yeah. She was... she was everything."

Rosinante stood quietly beside him, his hand still gripping Archer’s tightly, offering silent support.

"Well, I’ll leave you to it," Ymma said, turning to head back toward the entrance. "You take all the time you need, boy. She’s waitin' for ya."

As Ymma shuffled away, Archer knelt down in front of the gravestone, his fingers tracing over Rouge’s name. He felt Rosinante’s presence behind him, steady and warm. After a moment, Archer spoke, his voice barely above a whisper.

"I’m sorry, Rouge," he said, his voice cracking. "I should’ve come back sooner. I should’ve been here."

Rosinante knelt beside him, placing a hand on Archer’s shoulder. "You did what she wanted you to do, Archer. You kept Ace safe."

Archer nodded, though the guilt still weighed heavy on his heart. "Yeah. But I left her behind." He looked at the gravestone again, tears prickling at the corners of his eyes. "I hope... I hope she understands."

"She does," Rosinante said softly. "She always did."

For a while, they stayed like that, just the two of them and the quiet rustle of the wind through the trees. Finally, after what felt like hours, Archer stood up, wiping at his eyes.

As they walked back toward the cemetery gates, Archer couldn’t help but smile. Ymma had always been a force of nature, even in her old age. Seeing her still so sharp after all these years filled him with a sense of nostalgia, a connection to the past that was both comforting and bittersweet.

When they reached her, Ace's smile was warm and fond. Ymma, ever the sharp observer, leaned toward Archer and whispered, "Did you ever find the babe?"

Archer nodded, his throat tightening for a moment before he managed a smile. "Yeah, I did."

Ymma’s wrinkled face broke into a satisfied grin. "Good. Rouge would've been proud of you." She then turned her sharp eyes to Rosinante, sizing him up with a critical gaze. "Now you," she began, her tone commanding as ever, "you keep an eye on him, y'hear?"

Rosinante looked taken aback but nodded solemnly. "I always do."

"Good," Ymma grumbled, reaching out to tug on Rosinante's shirt collar, pulling him down toward her level. She squinted at him, eyeing him critically before nodding with a small, approving grunt. "You're a handsome one, I'll give ya that, even if you are a bit too tall for my taste."

Archer bit his lip, trying to hold back a laugh as Rosinante’s face turned bright red under Ymma’s scrutiny. She let go of his shirt, satisfied with her assessment, and waved them off with a crackling laugh.

Just as they turned to leave, saying their goodbyes, a loud squawk escaped Rosinante, startling both of them. He jumped, and his eyes went wide in shock. Archer spun around just in time to see Ymma pinching Rosinante’s backside, a wicked grin on her face.

Archer doubled over in laughter, unable to contain himself. "Oh, gods, Rosi! She got you good!"

Rosinante’s face was flushed a deep crimson, and he tried to regain his composure, brushing off the moment with a shy smile. "I—uh, well, I wasn’t expecting that."

Ymma, cackling like a mischievous child, waved them off. "Go on, now! Get outta here before I give him another!"

As they walked away, Archer kept laughing, his heart lighter than it had been in days. The sound of Ymma’s laughter faded behind them, but the warmth of the moment lingered.

Rosinante glanced at him, his own smile shy but playful. "If I ever admit to squeaking, I’ll never hear the end of it, will I?"

Archer grinned, wrapping an arm around his waist. "Not in a million years, love. Not in a million years."

Later that night, Archer had drifted off into a deep, peaceful sleep, the weight of the day's emotions finally catching up to him. He was so exhausted that he didn’t notice Rosinante quietly slipping out of bed, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead before leaving the room.

When the morning sun peeked through the curtains, Archer stirred, feeling the familiar warmth of Rosinante beside him. But something caught his eye—Rosi’s hands were dirty, smudged with earth. Archer frowned, his confusion shaking away the last bits of sleep. Gently, he nudged Rosinante awake.

"Rosi," he whispered, still drowsy. "Why are your hands covered in dirt?"

Rosinante blinked, slowly coming to consciousness, a sleepy smile spreading across his face. "Get dressed," he mumbled, his voice still thick with sleep.

Archer raised an eyebrow, curious but too intrigued to argue. He quickly got dressed, and the two of them left the tavern, with Rosinante leading the way. They walked through the quiet morning streets of Baterilla, the cool breeze carrying the scent of salt from the nearby sea.

Eventually, they reached the cemetery. Archer recognized the path they were on and realized they were heading back to Rouge’s grave. As they approached, something new caught his eye—flashes of vibrant color where the somber grave once stood.

His breath caught in his throat as they neared the grave. The entire area surrounding Rouge’s resting place was now filled with roses, bursting in every shade and color imaginable. The delicate flowers stretched out in beautiful, blooming bushes, creating a peaceful and breathtaking sight.

Wide-eyed, Archer turned to Rosinante, who stood beside him, looking a little sheepish but pleased. "Rosi... did you do all this?" Archer asked, his voice soft, almost reverent.

Rosinante nodded, his smile tender. "Yeah," he said. "Last night, after you fell asleep, I thought... maybe Rouge deserved a garden as beautiful as her memory."

Archer was speechless. His heart swelled, overwhelmed by the thoughtfulness, the love behind this gesture. His emotions surged, and before he could even process it, he leaped into Rosinante’s arms, capturing him in a fierce, passionate kiss.

Rosinante stumbled a bit, surprised by the sudden move, but quickly returned the kiss, his arms wrapping tightly around Archer. The kiss was deep, full of gratitude, love, and everything Archer couldn’t put into words.

When they finally pulled apart, Archer’s eyes were misty, but he was smiling brighter than he had in days. "I love you," he whispered, his voice rough with emotion.

Rosinante grinned, brushing a hand through Archer's hair. "I love you too."

As the beauty of the newly decorated grave sank in, Rosinante's smile faltered slightly. He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly and said, "We might want to leave quickly."

Archer raised an eyebrow, confusion evident on his face. "Why? Did something happen?"

Rosinante shifted his weight awkwardly and, with a somewhat guilty expression, admitted, "Well, I sort of... stole the rosebushes from the big manor on the other side of the island."

Archer's mouth dropped open in shock, but before he could say anything, the sheer absurdity of the situation hit him. A burst of laughter escaped him, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "You stole them from the mayor’s estate? Oh, Rosi, you’re unbelievable!"

Rosinante laughed too, a bit embarrassed but clearly enjoying Archer’s reaction. "Well, I didn’t think Rouge would mind. She deserved them more than the manor did."

Archer grinned, shaking his head. “You know, I think the mayor might be a bit mad, but that’s a small price to pay for making Rouge’s resting place so beautiful. Besides, what did you expect? She had a flair for drama.”

Without missing a beat, Rosinante swooped Archer up onto his back, much to Archer’s surprise. His strong arms held Archer securely as he began to sprint toward the harbor. Archer laughed all the while, the joy of the moment mingling with the thrill of their escape.

As they raced through the streets of Barterilla, Archer clung to Rosinante, laughing and shouting, "You’re definitely going to make us legends in this town!"

Rosinante chuckled, his strides powerful and sure as he maneuvered them through the bustling market, the excitement and the adrenaline making the entire escapade feel like a grand adventure.

Reaching the harbor, Rosinante set Archer down gently, his face flushed from the run. Together, they boarded their Ketch. The sails were raised, and with the gentle breeze filling them, the Ketch started to drift away from the dock.

As the island of Barterilla grew smaller in the distance, Archer leaned against the rail, looking back with a smile. He reached out and took Rosinante’s hand, squeezing it gently.

As the Ketch sailed smoothly away from Barterilla, Archer and Rosinante settled into the routine of their voyage. The thrill of their hasty departure had mellowed into a comfortable, easy-going calm. Archer’s thoughts often wandered back to the day’s earlier events, but one particular discovery drew his attention.

While exploring the deck, Archer spotted a crate tucked away near the storage area. It was an unassuming wooden box, its corners slightly battered from its apparent journey. Curious, he turned to Rosinante, who was busy organizing supplies.

“What’s this?” Archer asked, gesturing to the crate.

Rosinante looked up, his eyes twinkling with a mix of mischief and pride. “Oh, that. After I was done, um, liberating all those rosebushes, I went back to your old house. I figured you and Ace might want to have the pictures and mementos that were left behind.”

Archer’s heart skipped a beat. The thoughtfulness behind Rosinante’s actions left him momentarily speechless. His eyes softened as he looked at the crate, the weight of Rosinante’s gesture hitting him deeply.

“I... I don’t know what to say,” Archer finally managed, his voice catching with emotion. “You really did that?”

Rosinante’s smile widened. “Yeah. I thought it would mean something to have those memories with you and Ace. Besides, you deserved to have those pieces of your past.”

Archer’s gratitude was overwhelming. Before he could fully process his emotions, an idea sparked in his mind. Without another word, he grabbed Rosinante by the hand and pulled him down into the lower cabin.

The moment they reached the bed, Archer’s eyes glinted with a mischievous sparkle. “You know, I think I need to thank you properly for this. Come here.”

Rosinante’s eyes widened in surprise as Archer’s lips found his. The kiss was deep and filled with unspoken gratitude, passion, and love. Archer’s hands roamed over Rosinante’s back, pulling him closer.

Chapter Text

As they neared Foosha village, Archer could see the small dock in the distance, and a sense of relief washed over him. Both he and Rosinante had been at sea for long enough, and the sight of land was a welcome one. The familiar coastline brought a sense of comfort, knowing they were close to home and soon would be with their boys again.

Archer stretched his arms, then glanced over at Rosinante. "You ready to hit the ground?" he asked with a grin. Rosinante, looking just as eager, nodded.

The thought of hauling all their supplies up the mountain, as they’d done before, made Archer consider the easiest option. "No reason not to use the Grizzly form now," he mused aloud. The deal with the village made it safe for him to shift without worrying about anyone turning him in. He felt secure here, among people who accepted him and Rosinante, regardless of their pasts.

With a crack of his neck and a deep breath, Archer let the familiar transformation take hold. His body expanded, muscles rippling as thick fur sprouted, and he shifted into his Grizzly form. The world seemed a little smaller from this perspective, but the power and strength he felt in this form were unmatched. Rosinante immediately got to work, piling their supplies and gifts onto Archer's broad back, securing everything tightly.

"Should’ve done this from the start," Archer grunted in his deep bear voice, glancing back at the load. It was much easier than carrying everything by hand, and the steep climb up the mountain would be nothing in this form.

Rosinante chuckled, patting Archer’s fur as he finished securing the last of the bags. "You’re our personal pack bear now."

Archer huffed, though there was a hint of amusement in the sound. He didn't mind as long as it made things easier. Plus, seeing Rosinante happy made the small inconvenience worth it.

They started toward the path that led up the mountain, Archer’s powerful strides eating up the distance. He could feel the weight of their supplies, but it was nothing compared to the energy he had.

As Dadan’s stronghold came into view, Archer couldn’t help but let out his "we are home" roar. The deep, earth-shaking sound echoed through the trees, causing birds to scatter and the ground beneath them to tremble. It was a signal they had used many times before—a way to announce their return to the boys and let them know they were back.

Rosinante quickly moved to pull the supplies off Archer’s back, his long fingers working with practiced ease. Once the bags were clear, Archer shifted back into his human form, his mind already on the reunion ahead. He fully expected to see all three boys—Ace, Luffy, and Sabo—rushing towards them like always.

But when only Ace and Luffy came running, both of them with tear-streaked faces, Archer’s stomach dropped. His wide grin faltered, and he exchanged a quick, worried glance with Rosinante.

The boys yelled "Dad!" and "Papa!" as they raced into Archer and Rosinante’s arms, the usual excitement in their voices replaced with something far more heartbreaking.

Archer crouched down, wrapping his arms around both of them tightly, but his mind was racing. Something was wrong. The absence of Sabo sent a cold wave of fear crawling up his spine. He couldn’t see the third boy anywhere, and that wasn’t normal. The knot in his stomach tightened with each passing second.

As Ace and Luffy sobbed into his chest, Archer’s voice came out rougher than he intended, but he needed to know. "Where the fuck is Sabo?"

At the mention of Sabo’s name, both boys cried harder. Archer’s heart sank. He felt Rosinante stiffen beside him, and the fear that had been creeping up his spine now exploded in his chest.

Ace and Luffy were trying to talk, but the words came out in broken sobs, their little bodies trembling against him. Archer’s mind raced, his heart hammering in his chest as a deep, gut-wrenching panic set in.

Rosinante knelt down beside them, his voice soft but urgent. "Boys, what happened? Where’s your brother?"

Both boys cried harder, unable to speak through their tears. Archer’s mind was already going to dark places, and he gripped them tighter, his heart pounding in his chest.

Something terrible had happened. He could feel it in his bones.

With Ace and Luffy still sobbing in his arms, Archer stormed inside the stronghold, his voice echoing off the walls as he barked at the nearest bandit. "Get Dadan, now!" His tone was sharp, leaving no room for hesitation.

He didn’t care about the supplies they'd left outside. He didn’t care about anything right now except finding out what had happened to Sabo. His mind was a storm of panic and fear, the adrenaline pumping through him almost too much to bear.

Without pausing, Archer carried the boys straight to his and Rosinante’s bedroom, the small comforts of the room doing nothing to calm the knot in his chest. Gently, but urgently, he sat the boys down on the bed, their faces still red and wet with tears. As soon as they were settled, he reached out and grabbed Rosinante’s hand. He needed him, his steady presence, even if Rosinante himself looked like he was barely holding it together. Archer could feel the tremble in Rosi’s hand, and the tension in the room was thick, suffocating.

It didn’t take long for Dadan to arrive, but when she did, Archer felt his fear spike even higher. She looked like she'd been crying, her face pale and her usual tough demeanor nowhere to be seen. Something was horribly wrong, and Archer’s heart pounded against his ribs like it was trying to break free from his chest.

Rosinante, surprisingly, was the one who spoke first, his voice trembling with anger and fear. "What the fuck is going on?" he demanded, his usually soft tone now sharp and full of desperation. "Where is our kid?"

Dadan flinched, her lips quivering as she tried to speak. Archer's blood ran cold. He had never seen her look so defeated, and it made the sinking feeling in his gut even worse.

Her silence, the look on her face—it all pointed to something Archer wasn’t ready to face. His hand tightened around Rosinante’s; his knuckles white as he braced himself for the answer that was about to tear his world apart.

Dadan's voice was heavy with guilt and sorrow as she began her tale. "The boys ran off one day… couldn't find them anywhere." She paused, taking a deep breath, her eyes never meeting Archer's. "I sent almost all my men out looking, even alerted the village. We all searched, but by the time we got to where they’d gone… it was too late."

Archer's grip on Rosinante's hand tightened as Dadan continued, her words like daggers to his heart.

"From what I could gather, they went to Grey Terminal. Sabo wanted to get some things from his old home, and the boys—" she hesitated, her voice faltering. "The boys wanted to buy a present for Rosinante. They wanted to surprise him."

Ace, still clinging to Archer, lifted his tear-streaked face and nodded, his voice shaky as he confirmed what Dadan had said. "We… we wanted to surprise you, Papa. Sabo said Rosinante’s turning 30 soon, and we knew you both were coming home, so we thought… we thought it would be nice." His small voice cracked, and fresh tears began to fall.

Archer’s heart twisted painfully. He couldn't even begin to process the idea that Sabo had been out there, trying to get a gift for Rosinante, something they’d never even asked for, just to make them happy. But Ace wasn’t finished, and the story only grew darker.

"We… we ran into Sabo’s parents," Ace continued, his voice laced with anger. "They started yelling at him, calling him names, saying terrible things. But Sabo yelled back at them—he told them he had two new dads now, and that he was gonna be a pirate and write a book about all our adventures."

Archer’s jaw clenched at the thought of Sabo standing up to those people, only to face something far worse than angry words.

"His parents," Ace spat the word like poison, "they told their guard to stop us. And we ran… we ran as fast as we could. But Sabo…"

Ace’s voice broke completely, and Luffy, who had been silent, started sobbing uncontrollably.

"Sabo didn’t make it," Ace whispered, his voice barely audible. "He… he was chased over a cliff. The guard hit him in the head with a torch. He fell into the sea."

Archer’s body went numb, his mind refusing to accept the words. Sabo—his boy—chased, struck, and lost to the sea.

Dadan's voice was strained as she finished the tale. "We got there too late. My people killed the guard, but Sabo… two of my men jumped in after him. They searched, but…" She trailed off, unable to say the words Archer feared most.

There had been no sign of Sabo. No body, no hope.

Rosinante’s hand trembled in Archer's, the reality crashing down around them both like a wave they couldn't stop. Sabo was gone. And all Archer could do was sit there, feeling the weight of his failure, his heart breaking into pieces.

Archer couldn’t find the words, not a single one. His throat felt tight, like something was choking him from the inside out. All he could do was hold Ace and Luffy as tightly as possible, feeling their small bodies tremble with every sob. Rosinante was doing the same, wrapping his long arms around the boys, trying to shield them from the cruel world that had just stolen their brother.

Dadan had quietly left the room. There was nothing more she could say, and Archer knew it. No one could say anything that would make this better. The silence that filled the room after she left was unbearable, only broken by the boys' sobbing.

Archer’s chest felt hollow, like someone had reached inside and ripped out something vital. He couldn’t process the loss, couldn’t fathom a world without Sabo in it. The boy who had brightened their lives with his wild dreams and infectious energy was gone—just like that.

When he finally lifted his head, he locked eyes with Rosinante. The sorrow and anger in Rosinante’s gaze mirrored his own, raw and unfiltered. How were they supposed to get through this? How could they heal from losing one of their own?

Shit. Fuck. Shit.

There was no fixing this. Nothing that could undo the nightmare.

Archer buried his face in Luffy’s hair, the boy still shaking with sobs. They had lost one of their boys, and all the strength Archer thought he had vanished in that moment. He held on, for Ace, for Luffy, for Rosinante—but inside, he was falling apart.

Later that night, when the boys had finally cried themselves to sleep, Archer got up slowly, as if his body were moving on its own. He felt numb, like he was drifting through a fog he couldn’t escape. His feet carried him out of the bedroom and down the hall, leading him toward the bathhouse. He didn’t know why he was going there—he just was.

The door creaked as he closed it behind him, and in the quiet, it all hit him. All the weight, the loss, the agony that had been pressing down on him. It came crashing in like a tidal wave, and before he could stop it, Archer broke down. Ugly sobs tore out of his throat, so intense that his chest burned like it was being ripped apart from the inside. He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, just cried until he was sure he’d collapse from it.

His body shook with every sob, and he couldn’t control the tears that kept pouring out. His chest hurt so badly it was like he’d been stabbed, and he didn’t know how to stop it. Every breath felt like it might be his last, the weight of Sabo’s loss suffocating him.

Then, he felt someone join him on the cold floor. A familiar presence, trembling with the same raw grief. Rosinante. Archer didn’t have to look—he knew it was him by the way his arms wrapped around him, clinging desperately, shaking with his own ugly tears.

They held each other tightly, crying together, two grown men broken by the loss of their boy. In that moment, there were no words, no reassurances. Only the shared pain, the weight of it too heavy for either of them to carry alone. They just cried, ugly and hard, holding on as if that would stop the world from falling apart completely.

Archer’s sobs echoed in the small room, blending with Rosinante’s, their grief so raw and unguarded that nothing else mattered. They had lost Sabo, and now, in the stillness of the night, they let themselves fall apart together.

When Archer woke, it took a moment for him to realize he was back in his bed. His body felt heavy, like he hadn’t truly slept, just drifted into an uneasy haze. Groggily, he sat up, blinking away the remnants of exhaustion. Ace and Luffy were curled up beside him, sound asleep, their faces still tear-streaked from the night before. He instinctively reached out for Rosinante, expecting to find him beside him, but his hand met nothing but cool sheets. His side of the bed was cold—Rosinante had been gone for a while.

Archer frowned, glancing around the dimly lit room. It was dead quiet, save for the soft breaths of the boys beside him. He sighed, rubbing his eyes. He was willing to bet Dadan’s entire stock of whisky that it had been Rosinante who had carried him to bed last night. But where the hell was he now?

His mind began to race. Rosinante wasn’t one to just vanish, especially not after what they’d been through. Archer threw the covers off, moving as quietly as he could to avoid waking the boys. His body still ached, not just from the emotional toll but from the tension that had wound him up for days now. He felt raw, like an open wound, but the worry for Rosinante pushed him to his feet.

"Where the fuck are you, Rosi?" Archer muttered to himself, slipping out of the bedroom, his senses now on high alert as he moved through the stronghold in search of his missing partner.

It was much later that evening, the sun hanging low, casting a deep orange glow over the horizon, when Rosinante’s tall form finally emerged from the treeline. Archer had spent the entire day juggling his own grief while trying to console two devastated boys, and now, seeing Rosinante appear after hours of being gone, something in him snapped.

He was furious.

Archer had never fought with Rosinante before, not like this. But now, with the weight of Sabo’s loss hanging over them and the crushing exhaustion of holding everything together, the anger spilled out. Stomping towards Rosinante, he started yelling.

“Where the fuck have you been?!” Archer’s voice was low but seething, a dangerous growl. “Why the hell did you just leave?! We’ve been going through hell, and you—you just vanish?”

His rant came fast, words tumbling out as he tried to make sense of the rage bubbling up in his chest. But then, mid-yell, he stopped. His eyes caught on Rosinante’s appearance, and everything in him froze.

Rosinante was covered in blood. His knuckles were raw and torn, and a vicious bruise had bloomed under his right eye, nearly closing it shut. The sight made Archer’s breath catch in his throat, his anger instantly giving way to shock and fear.

Shaking, he reached out to his boyfriend. “Rosi… what the hell happened? Who did this to you?”

Rosinante didn’t answer, just stood there, expression blank, his usual warmth replaced with something darker, heavier. In that moment it was not hard to believe that Rosinante was the brother of a warlord. Archer didn’t push—he just grabbed Rosinante by the arm, pulling him gently toward the bathhouse. He could barely think straight, but he needed to clean him up, to take care of him, to understand what had happened.

The silence between them was suffocating as Archer carefully washed the blood from Rosinante’s body. His hands shook as they moved over the bruises, over the broken skin. And then, out of nowhere, Rosinante spoke.

“I found them.”

Archer paused, looking up at him, but Rosinante wasn’t looking back. His voice was quiet, almost hollow. “Sabo’s birth parents. The guards… all of them.”

The weight of those words sank into Archer like a stone.

“I killed them,” Rosinante continued, his voice steady, though his eyes were filled with something unrecognizable—rage, grief, regret. “I killed them all. The parents, the guards… anyone who had a hand in it.”

Archer stared at him, lost for words. For a moment, the room was completely silent except for the sound of the water. Slowly, Archer wrapped his arms around Rosinante, holding him tightly, pressing his face into his chest. He could feel Rosinante shaking slightly beneath his touch.

“I love you,” Archer whispered, his voice breaking. “I love you."

After that night, time seemed to crawl. Days blurred into one another, a slow and painful march forward. Archer and Rosinante took everything one day at a time, trying their best to be there for each other and the boys. They really did try—sharing meals, helping the boys through their grief, and holding onto the small moments of peace that surfaced in between. But still, something was off.

There was a distance between them now, an invisible wall Archer couldn’t quite put his finger on. It wasn’t that they didn’t love each other; that much was certain. But something had shifted after Rosinante’s confession. It was subtle, like a shadow that crept into their quiet moments, making the space between them feel larger than it ever had before.

Archer didn’t know how to fix it, didn’t even fully understand why it was there. It was strange, unsettling. He hated the feeling of being disconnected from the person he loved most, especially when they were supposed to be united in their shared grief. Yet, no matter how hard they tried, that distance lingered like a storm on the horizon, always there but never quite crashing down.

And then one day, as Archer was standing near the docks, lost in his thoughts, he spotted someone. A figure with unmistakable red hair walking towards the shore.

The man reached the dock, his presence impossible to ignore.

Chapter Text

Archer sat slouched in the corner of Makino’s bar, a hat pulled low over his forehead, shadowing his eyes. He swirled the half-empty mug of beer in his hand, taking slow, deliberate sips, more out of habit than thirst. The noise of the village life carried on outside, but here, in the dim light and quiet hum of the bar, it was peaceful. He needed this break—a moment to just breathe without feeling the weight of everything pressing down on him.

He snorted to himself, tipping the mug back to finish off what was left. Cowardly Bear—he’d coined the name in his head earlier, and it stuck. The last few weeks had been rough, to say the least. The tension between him and Rosinante was thick enough to choke on, and Archer didn’t know how to handle it. He’d never been the type to run from things, but here he was, hiding out in a bar instead of facing the storm brewing between him and his boyfriend.

Makino’s soft voice broke through his thoughts. “Another round?” she asked, her gentle smile a small comfort.

Archer nodded, sliding the empty mug toward her. "Yeah, thanks."

As she refilled it, he caught a glimpse of himself in the reflection of a nearby window. He looked tired, older, even though he wasn’t that much older than when they first came back. His face was hardened with grief, his eyes shadowed with exhaustion, but more than that, it was the guilt that weighed heavy on him. Guilt over Sabo. Guilt over Law. Guilt for feeling like he was failing everyone around him, especially Rosinante.

Makino placed the fresh beer in front of him, her kind eyes lingering on him for a moment longer than usual. "You know Archer," she said softly, "running from things never makes them easier to deal with."

Archer grunted. "I’m not running." But even as he said it, he didn’t believe the words. He wasn’t fooling anyone, least of all himself.

A loud burst of laughter erupted from the other side of the bar, jolting Archer from his thoughts. He glanced up to see the redhead from the docks, surrounded by his rowdy crew. They were laughing heartily, their voices rising above the general din of the bar, their mugs clinking together in a raucous display of camaraderie.

The redhead, with his strikingly vivid hair and commanding presence, seemed to be the center of attention. He was throwing back drinks with a gusto that reminded Archer of Luffy’s insatiable appetite for meat. It was a kind of unrestrained joy that Archer hadn’t seen in a while, and for a moment, it was almost a distraction from his own troubles.

Archer’s eyes narrowed as he eavesdropped on the conversation. The loud voices of the red-haired crew made it impossible to ignore their chatter, and despite himself, Archer found his curiosity piqued.

The red-haired man, who Archer now realized was Shanks, was recounting stories about the past. His tales seemed to center around Luffy, and Archer’s interest was immediately piqued. It was clear that Shanks had played a significant role in Luffy’s early life, a detail Archer hadn’t fully appreciated before. Shanks spoke with a mixture of fondness and nostalgia, revealing that the straw hat Luffy always wore was indeed a gift from him. Archer’s heart softened slightly at the thought—Luffy’s treasured hat came from someone who clearly meant a lot to him.

Listening further, Archer learned that Shanks had been the one to find the Gum-Gum Fruit and by accident Luffy ate it. Archer sighed, it was so Luffy. The piece of fruit that had given Luffy his incredible powers had a connection to Shanks. It made sense now why Luffy spoke of him with such admiration.

However, as the conversation continued, Archer’s mood darkened. A man with dreads, who seemed to be part of Shanks' crew, made a comment that grated on Archer’s nerves. He mentioned being glad that Luffy was no longer underfoot and causing trouble, and even referred to his own child as “brat” while lamenting the need to leave them behind with a sick wife.

Archer’s jaw clenched. The audacity of this man to speak so casually about abandoning his family, especially in the context of Archer’s own struggles to balance his responsibilities as a father, struck a nerve. Archer couldn't fathom how someone could be so callous. He and Rosinante made sacrifices every year, spending months away from their children in search of Law. But they always made sure their kids were cared for and safe. The idea of abandoning one’s family, especially in a time of need, was foreign and abhorrent to him.

Archer watched with a tight chest as Shanks gestured for Makino to join their table. Shanks' curiosity about Luffy was palpable, and Archer’s ears perked up, eager to hear more about what had transpired.

When Makino approached, Shanks wasted no time in asking her about Luffy. Her response was calm and filled with warmth, a contrast to the harsh words of the man with the dreads. She told Shanks that Luffy’s grandfather had taken him somewhere, and that Luffy was now with a brother and two dads who loved him deeply.

The lump in Archer’s throat grew as Makino’s words echoed in his mind. The truth in her statement hit him hard—he and Rosinante did love their boys with every fiber of their being. They had worked so hard to provide for them, to ensure they felt safe and cherished, and hearing someone else recognize that truth was both comforting and painful.

Shanks listened intently, his expression softening with each word. When Makino finished, Shanks nodded with a look of satisfaction. It was clear that he was pleased with the news, and perhaps even reassured that Luffy was in good hands.

Archer scowled at his empty pint, cursing the person who invented the size of pints. How could anyone ever be satisfied with just one? He gestured to Makino, signaling that he needed another beer.

Makino approached with a gentle smile, setting a fresh pint before him. Her touch on his shoulder was comforting, and for a moment, it was like a small balm to his restless soul. Archer took a deep breath, savoring the aroma of the new beer.

Archer’s peaceful moment was abruptly interrupted when the man with the braids—who had been talking dismissively about children—pulled Makino aside. Curiosity sparked as he asked her who Archer was.

Archer tensed, bracing himself for what could come next. Makino, with her usual calm demeanor, simply told him that Archer was one of the locals. The man with the braids nodded and sat back down, seemingly satisfied with her answer. However, the distraction had drawn the attention of Shanks and the rest of his crew.

Archer's stomach knotted as he felt the weight of their gaze. Shanks and his crew began to whisper among themselves, their eyes flicking toward him with growing interest. It was clear that the red-haired pirate and his crew were now focused on him, and he could feel the tension rising.

Makino, sensing the brewing trouble, quietly excused herself and went out back. Archer watched her leave, hoping she’d find a way to defuse the situation. Moments later, she returned, looking a bit more serious. She gave him a reassuring glance, as if to say everything would be alright, but Archer wasn’t entirely convinced.

Archer tried to relax, taking deep breaths and savoring his beer. But the fleeting peace didn’t last. The man with the braids, Archer found out was named Yasopp, started running his mouth again, complaining about children being a nuisance and better off with their mothers. His remarks were getting under Archer’s skin, especially after the day they had.

Yasopp’s dismissive comments were a bitter pill to swallow, and Archer's patience snapped when another crew member asked if Yasopp would ever return for his son, particularly if his wife, who was very sick, passed away. Yasopp’s response was cold and callous, saying he had no intention of returning and that his son would never amount to anything.

Unable to keep his anger in check, Archer let out a loud snort of disbelief. The sheer audacity and cruelty of Yasopp’s words were infuriating. How could someone be so heartless?

Yasopp swaggered over, his expression a mix of challenge and irritation. “Got a problem?” he asked, his voice dripping with disdain.

Archer looked up, his hat falling away to reveal his piercing golden eyes. The effect was immediate and dramatic. The bar’s lively chatter died down, and the crew fell silent, their eyes wide with surprise.

Slowly, Archer stood up, his movements deliberate and controlled. The dim light of the bar seemed to accentuate his fierce gaze as he grinned, a dark edge to his smile.

“Oh, I’ve definitely got a problem,” Archer said, his voice cold and measured. “And that problem is you.” He took a step closer to Yasopp, who flinched slightly at the intensity of Archer’s gaze. “You’re a coward and a terrible father. Your son deserves so much better than to be abandoned by a piece of shit like you.”

The words were spoken with a raw honesty that cut through the air. Yasopp’s face reddened with a mix of anger and embarrassment, the bar’s patrons watching the confrontation unfold with bated breath.

Shanks approached with a calm demeanor, his hand outstretched in what Archer assumed was meant to be a soothing gesture. But with the tension in the air, it was about as effective as trying to put out a fire with a garden hose.

“Alright, let’s all just take a breath,” Shanks said, his voice steady and conciliatory. He turned to Archer with a practiced smile. “Let’s calm down, okay? Who are you, and what’s this about?”

Archer eyed Shanks with a disdainful smirk. “From all the stories I’ve heard about you from my son,” he said, his tone dripping with sarcasm, “I’m thoroughly disappointed. Really, just let down.”

Shanks’s expression turned to confusion, and he looked Archer up and down. “And who exactly are you?” he asked, his brow furrowing. “How do you know about me?”

Archer’s grin widened. “Oh, you don’t know? My picture is everywhere. My son talks about you all the time. He wears that straw hat you gave him every chance he gets. And from what I’ve gathered, you’re just another man who abandoned a small child to be mistreated by his own grandfather.” He leaned in slightly, his voice dropping to a harsh whisper. “And you’ve got spineless cowards in your crew.”

Shanks was momentarily speechless, his eyes widening in shock. “Who are you to—” he started, but Archer cut him off.

“I’m the father of that kid you abandoned,” Archer said, his voice cold. “And I’m not impressed. Not by you, not by your crew, and certainly not by the so-called legends that surround you.”

Shanks looked at Archer with clear confusion, trying to piece together the escalating situation. His brow furrowed deeply as he asked again, “Who the hell are you?”

Archer laughed bitterly, the sound harsh and mocking. "I’m Portgas D. Archer,” he said, his voice low but firm. “Father of Ace and Luffy."

The moment those words left Archer’s mouth, Shanks’ frown deepened. "Portgas...," he muttered, almost to himself. “I once knew a Portgas. A woman. My old captain was expecting a child with her…”

At that, Archer's eyes blazed with fury. His posture stiffened, and he took a menacing step forward. “That woman you’re talking about so callously,” he growled, “was my sister.”

The air in the room turned icy as Archer locked eyes with Shanks, his voice dripping with venom. “And if you were part of Roger’s crew, then you should know better than to speak of her like that. One more word, and I’ll rip your throat out.”

Before things could escalate further, Makino's voice rang out from behind the bar, sharp and full of frustration. “Archer, take it outside! Now!”

Archer, his anger barely in check, gave a curt nod to Makino. He gestured for Shanks to follow him, his eyes still burning with unspoken rage. "Outside. Now."

As they stepped outside, the night air was cool, but the tension was anything but. Shanks’ crew trailed behind, their usual carefree demeanor replaced with wariness. Archer, still seething with anger, turned back to Shanks and continued his tirade.

“Did you ever wonder what happened to your old captain’s child?” Archer’s voice was sharp, every word dripping with accusation. “Did you ever bother to look for him? Or were you too busy drinking and telling tales of your glory days?”

Shanks, usually so composed, seemed caught off guard. He stammered for a moment, trying to find his footing. “I was only fifteen when Roger died,” he finally managed to say, his voice quieter than usual, almost defensive.

Archer scoffed loudly, crossing his arms over his chest. “Fifteen, huh? I was eleven. Eleven, Shanks. And while you were off sailing and living your life, that child—Rouge and Roger’s child—was kidnapped moments after his birth.”

Shanks’ face paled, the weight of Archer’s words sinking in. Archer took a step closer, his golden eyes burning with an intensity that made the pirate crew shuffle uneasily.

“I searched for that child,” Archer continued, his voice now steady but filled with barely contained rage. “I didn’t stop until I found him again. So, tell me, what the fuck was your excuse?”

Silence fell over the group, the only sound being the faint rustling of the wind through the trees. Shanks stood there, his mouth slightly open but no words coming out. He looked utterly stunned, as if the weight of the truth had struck him harder than any physical blow ever could.

The crew exchanged uneasy glances, sensing that whatever Shanks could say wouldn’t be enough to absolve him in Archer’s eyes.

As Archer stood there, seething with barely restrained anger, he let out one last, bitter remark: “If Roger were alive today, he’d be so damn disappointed in you.”

Suddenly, a loud crack echoed through the air. A gunshot. Archer’s tirade was cut off as he jerked back, feeling the sharp pain tear through his left shoulder. For a moment, everything slowed down. He looked down in disbelief at the fresh wound, his mind racing to process what just happened. Yasopp, the stupid fucker, had just shot him.

Makino, who had been watching the confrontation from the doorway of her bar, gasped in horror. Her eyes darted toward Shanks, fear coloring her expression. “What have you done?” she asked, her voice trembling.

Shanks, staring at the blood now staining Archer’s shirt, looked back at her, confusion and hesitation clouding his features. “He’s just one man,” he muttered. “We can take him.”

Makino’s face paled even more, and she shook her head in disbelief. “No,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “You don’t understand… that’s the Golden Terror. You’ve woken the beast.”

The change in the air was immediate. Archer’s golden eyes burned brighter, but something else was happening. He began to shift. His body twisted and grew, fur sprouting as his muscles bulged and his bones cracked. Within seconds, where there had once been a man stood a towering, enraged grizzly bear, larger than any elephant Shanks and his crew had ever seen. The ground seemed to tremble beneath his feet as he loomed over them, a living embodiment of rage and fury.

Shanks and his crew stumbled back, their earlier bravado evaporating as they stared up at the massive bear. Fear crept into their eyes, and for the first time, Shanks looked genuinely worried.

Yasopp, either too foolish or too panicked to understand the danger he was in, fired his gun again. But before the bullet even left the barrel, a blur of motion came from the side. A tall figure appeared out of nowhere, grabbing Yasopp by the arm and twisting it violently. The sickening sound of bones snapping echoed through the air.

It was Rosinante.

Archer, now in his grizzly form, turned his head toward the sound. His massive, growling chest rose and fell as he locked eyes with Rosinante. Relief surged through his anger. Rosinante was here.

Archer, still in his towering grizzly form, could feel the tension ease just slightly at the sight of Rosinante. The relief that surged through him was like a wave crashing against the shore, but the fury in Rosinante's eyes kept him grounded. His usually gentle and clumsy lover was filled with a kind of rage Archer rarely saw.

Rosinante, calm on the surface but with eyes burning like coals, strode confidently toward Archer. He reached up, placing his hand in Archer's thick fur, an action both soothing and grounding. But his calm demeanor didn’t last long. His voice, usually so soft and reassuring, cracked like a whip as he addressed Shanks and his crew, filled with a fury that matched the bear beside him.

"Have you lost your mind?" Rosinante bellowed, his voice shaking with uncharacteristic anger. "What the fuck is wrong with you? Shooting a man over a goddamn conversation? Are you all out of your minds?"

Shanks’ crew shifted uneasily, their bravado now fully replaced by apprehension. Even Shanks seemed at a loss, watching as a couple of his men dragged the groaning and battered Yasopp away from the scene. The red-haired captain, his usual confident smile now replaced by a serious frown, finally turned to face Rosinante fully, the confusion clear in his expression.

“And who the hell are you?” Shanks asked, his voice low but tense, as if preparing for whatever this wild situation would throw at him next.

Rosinante’s lips curled into a smile, but it was nothing like his usual warm grin. It was cold, dangerous, a look that Archer had only seen when Rosinante’s past caught up with him. For a brief moment, Rosinante looked remarkably like his older brother. The resemblance was eerie, and it made the atmosphere feel even more suffocating.

"Donquixote “Corazon” Rosinante," he said, his voice like ice. "Brother of Donquixote Doflamingo, Former Marine, and more importantly, the man whose boyfriend you just shot." His tone was deadly, each word a dagger aimed straight at Shanks. "Now, if you think tonight’s been strange, I promise you… things are about to get a whole lot worse if you don’t start explaining yourself.”

Shanks, now truly taken aback, stared at Rosinante with wide eyes. Whatever he had expected, it certainly wasn’t this.

The crew shifted nervously behind their captain, their earlier confidence shattered by Rosinante's sudden shift in demeanor. Shanks, normally so good with words, seemed momentarily lost. He opened his mouth to speak, but no sound came out at first. He glanced between Archer, still standing in his massive bear form, and Rosinante, whose presence now felt like a storm about to break.

Archer, sensing Rosinante’s rage as much as his own, let out a low, warning growl that made the earth beneath them tremble. The message was clear: any wrong move, and Shanks' crew would regret it.

Shanks swallowed hard, finally finding his voice. "Look, we didn’t mean for things to go this far. Yasopp—"

But before he could finish, Rosinante cut him off, his voice sharp and unyielding. "This isn’t about Yasopp anymore, Shanks. It’s about you and your reckless crew thinking you can do whatever the hell you want. Shooting someone over a few words? What kind of pirates are you?"

Rosinante’s gaze never wavered as he stared Shanks down, daring him to make another mistake

As the tension in the air began to dissipate, Makino quietly stepped out into the street, her calm voice cutting through the lingering hostility. “Shanks,” she called, her gaze firm but not unkind. “I think it’s better if you and your men leave now. I don’t want any more trouble here.”

Shanks, still visibly shaken by the towering grizzly and the wrath of Rosinante, nodded, clearly not eager to provoke any further conflict. He may have been one of the most famous pirates in the world, but even he wasn’t foolish enough to pick a fight with a massive bear and the brother of a dangerous warlord. His voice was quiet as he said, “Yeah… we’re going. No need to make this worse.”

His crew, silent now, followed him without a word, stealing glances back at Archer and Rosinante as they retreated. The evening, once filled with raucous laughter, had taken a turn none of them had expected, and they were more than happy to leave the terrifying sight of the golden-eyed bear and his boyfriend behind.

As the last of Shanks’ men disappeared from view, Archer, still in his bear form, slowly shifted back into his human self. His golden eyes locked onto Rosinante, and without a word, he threw his arms around him, hugging him tightly and pressing his lips to his in a fierce, relieved kiss. Rosinante, caught by surprise at first, quickly responded, wrapping his arms around Archer just as tightly.

“How did you know where I was?” Archer asked breathlessly, pulling back just enough to look at him, his heart still racing from the adrenaline of the confrontation.

Rosinante smiled, his usual warmth returning to his eyes. “Makino sent word. She knew something was up,” he said simply, glancing over at the bar owner with a grateful nod.

Archer followed his gaze and smiled at Makino, who gave him a small wave, her expression a mix of relief and amusement. She had a way of knowing things, and Archer couldn’t have been more grateful for her tonight.

Before Archer could say another word, Rosinante scooped him up with ease, pulling him onto his back in a piggyback style. “Come on,” Rosinante said with a grin, the playful spark back in his eyes despite the wild night they’d just had. “Let’s go home.”

Archer, clinging to Rosinante’s broad shoulders, let out a soft chuckle, feeling the tension in his body finally ease as Rosinante began walking them home. As they made their way back, with the soft light of the setting sun fading behind them, Archer rested his head against Rosinante’s back, feeling safe and, for the first time in a while.

As they made their way through the quiet woods, the tension from earlier gradually melting away, Archer broke the silence. His voice was soft, almost hesitant. "I’m sorry for the mess," he began, his words stumbling a bit as they left his mouth. "And… I’m sorry about the distance between us since we lost Sabo. I didn’t mean for it to happen."

Rosinante sighed, his shoulders rising and falling beneath Archer’s arms as he carried him. "I’ve been scared too," Rosinante admitted after a moment, his voice heavy. "Scared that you would hate me… that you’d compare me to my brother after what I did. Killing all those people, I—I just snapped, and I was afraid you’d see me differently."

Archer blinked, his brow furrowing in surprise. He hadn’t expected that. "Rosi…" he started, shifting on Rosinante’s back to look at him properly. "I could never hate you. You did what you had to, and honestly…" He smirked, his eyes softening. "I’m proud of you. It was kind of hot when you went all badass. I love you, Rosi, more than anything. And I’m proud of you. Always."

Rosinante stopped in his tracks for a second, his breath catching at Archer’s words. Slowly, he turned his head just enough to look at Archer, a small grin playing on his lips. “Badass, huh?” he teased, his voice lighter now, the weight of his earlier fears seemingly lifting.

As they finally reached their bedroom, Rosinante gently set Archer down, his grin widening. “You think that was badass?” he asked, his tone playful, a familiar mischievous glint in his eyes. He leaned in close, his voice dropping to a low murmur. “I’ll show you badass.”

Reaching forward, Rosinante grabbed Archer's wrists and firmly bound them to the metal headboard using a soft silk scarf. Archer's breath quickened as he realized he was at Rosinante's mercy, a thought that aroused him immensely.

Rosinante's fingers trailed down Archer's toned arms, sending shivers down his spine. With swift, eager hands, Rosinante began to rip at Archer's clothes, buttons popping open as the fabric was hastily discarded. Archer's muscular chest was soon exposed, his nipples hardening at the cool air and Rosinante's intense stare.

Rosinante's own clothes seemed to disappear in an instant, as if he couldn't wait to feel skin against skin. His muscular build, adorned with a unique blue star tattoo near his eye, was a sight to behold. He lowered himself onto the bed, his long, powerful legs bracketing Archer's slender waist. Leaning forward, Rosinante's warm breath caressed Archer's neck, sending tingles down his spine.

He nibbled and kissed the sensitive skin, leaving a trail of wet kisses down to his collarbone. Archer arched his back, pushing his chest forward, offering himself to Rosinante's eager mouth. Rosinante's hands roamed freely over Archer's body, squeezing and kneading the firm muscles.

 He gripped Archer's ass, pulling him closer, grinding their hard cocks together. Archer moaned, a sound that was part pleasure and part frustration, as he longed to touch Rosinante in return. Rosinante's mouth claimed Archer's, their tongues dueling passionately. The kiss was hungry, almost savage, as if they were devouring each other. Breaking the kiss, Rosinante trailed his mouth down Archer's throat, nipping and sucking gently, marking the smooth skin with love bites.

Archer squirmed, his bound hands tugging at the restraints, his body craving more. Rosinante's hands traveled lower, gripping Archer's cock, which was already stiff and leaking. He stroked Archer slowly, torturously, making him whimper and beg for more.

Rosinante intensified his touch, stroking Archer's length with firm, deliberate strokes. He reached down and teased Archer's tight hole with slick fingers, preparing him for what was to come. Archer bucked his hips, seeking more friction, his eyes screwed shut in pleasure. Rosinante brought him to the brink of orgasm, only to slow down, denying Archer the release he desperately craved.

Archer's breath came in ragged gasps as he fought against the restraints, his body tense and trembling. Rosinante, sensing his partner's frustration, finally untied Archer's wrists, freeing him from the headboard.

In a swift motion, Rosinante stood, pulling Archer up into his arms. He pressed their bodies together, chest to chest, and backed Archer against the wall. Archer's legs wrapped around Rosinante's waist, giving him better leverage as he thrust his hips forward, claiming Archer's mouth in a passionate kiss. Rosinante's cock, hard as steel, pressed against Archer's entrance, teasing him.

With one powerful thrust, he impaled Archer, claiming him deeply. Archer cried out, a mix of pleasure and pain, as Rosinante filled him completely. The roughness of the act sent a jolt of electricity through Archer's body, and he dug his nails into Rosinante's shoulders, leaving marks on his tanned skin.

 Rosinante began to move, his powerful hips pistoning relentlessly, driving into Archer with primal urgency. The force of each thrust pushed Archer's body against the wall, the impact echoing through the room. Archer's head fell back, his golden hair cascading down, as he surrendered to the raw, animalistic pleasure.

"Fuck, yes! Harder, Rosinante!" Archer cried out, his voice hoarse and desperate. Rosinante complied, his hands gripping Archer's thighs, spreading him wider as he pounded into him. Archer's muscles clenched around Rosinante's cock, milking him, driving him closer to the edge. As the pleasure built, Archer's control slipped away.

He tugged at Rosinante's hair, pulling his head back and biting down on his shoulder, marking him as his own. Rosinante grunted, his body tensing, as Archer's teeth sank into his flesh. The sensation sent Rosinante over the edge, and he erupted, filling Archer with his hot seed. Archer's own release followed swiftly, his cock pulsing and spilling cum over Rosinante's hand and their heaving chests. Their bodies trembled as the orgasm ripped through them, leaving them breathless and spent.

Rosinante gently lowered Archer onto the bed, their limbs entangled, hearts pounding in unison. They lay there, panting and sweaty, the afterglow of their passionate encounter enveloping them in a blissful haze. "That was..." Archer began, his voice hoarse and satiated. "Incredible," Rosinante finished, his lips curving into a satisfied smile.

They fell asleep in each other's arms, both spent but happy. The morning after, Archer noticed that neither Ace nor Luffy would meet their eyes. Even Dadan and her bandits were avoiding them. During dinner, Ace, never one to hold back, bluntly said, "It's awesome you guys are talking again, but please soundproof your bedroom next time."

Both Archer and Rosinante turned bright red, embarrassed beyond words.

Chapter Text

Still embarrassed by Ace’s blunt words from dinner, Archer and Rosinante went about their day as usual, but this time there was a noticeable lightness in the air. Whenever they passed each other, they exchanged quick smiles and even a few stolen kisses, which never failed to make Ace and Luffy groan with embarrassment.

“Shouldn’t you be happy that your dads love each other?” Rosinante teased, earning exaggerated gags from the boys.

Just as Rosinante finished speaking, Dadan wandered by, muttering under her breath, “Thank the gods Archer isn’t a woman, or we’d have more brats running around.”

Archer threw his head back and laughed so loudly that Luffy jumped in fright, spilling his glass of milk across the table. Ace groaned, burying his head in his hands as if he couldn't deal with any more of his dads' antics.

"You're gonna break 'em, old man," Ace grumbled.

Still chuckling, Archer ruffled Luffy's hair as Rosinante cleaned up the mess. The warmth that had been missing since they lost Sabo seemed to creep back into the family, little by little.

Archer had spent the entire day working on his plan, something he hoped would help heal their still aching hearts. He gathered Ace and Rosinante, hoisting Ace up onto his shoulders, while Rosinante did the same with Luffy. With the boys perched above them, they headed up a familiar path toward a cliff.

As they reached the top, Rosinante and the boys noticed what Archer had been working on—a small memorial for Sabo, carefully placed overlooking the sea. A simple but meaningful tribute, with a carved stone and some of Sabo’s favorite things.

For a moment, the four of them just stood there, the weight of the loss hanging over them. Then, as the grief welled up, they began to cry. One by one, they shared stories about Sabo, funny memories that made them smile even through the tears. Luffy remembered the time Sabo had tried to cook breakfast and almost set the house on fire, while Ace laughed about how Sabo always made the worst poker face, losing every hand they played. Even Rosinante, usually so quiet in his grief, recounted a time when Sabo tried on one of his coats and tripped over it, flailing in dramatic fashion.

As they made their way back down the mountain, hearts feeling a little lighter, Archer noticed something—or rather, someone—approaching the stronghold. His eyes narrowed. Shanks, alongside Makino, was making his way up toward them.

“What the fuck is he doing here?” Archer muttered, the calmness he’d gained slipping away. The anger from their last encounter flared up in his chest.

Without thinking, Archer stomped forward, yelling, “What the fuck are you doing here? Piss off!”

But before Archer could get any closer, Luffy, who had been sitting on Rosinante’s shoulders, suddenly wriggled free and took off running toward the red-haired man. “Shanks!” he yelled happily, his small feet kicking up dust as he bolted toward the pirate captain.

Shanks raised both hands in a surrendering gesture, his usual grin softening as he spoke. "I come in peace," he said calmly, his voice steady despite the tension in the air.

Ace had quickly run after Luffy, pulling his younger brother back towards a fuming Rosinante, who immediately stepped protectively in front of the boys. His towering form seemed even taller, his eyes locked on Shanks with an icy glare.

"You better talk fast," Rosinante growled, his voice low and dangerous. His usual clumsy warmth was gone, replaced by the fierce protector Archer knew he could be when it came to their family.

Shanks glanced at Luffy and Ace before turning his attention back to Rosinante and Archer. He let out a sigh, clearly weighing his words. "Look, I didn't come here to cause trouble. I just wanted to see the boy," he said, nodding toward Luffy, who was peeking from behind Rosinante's legs.

Archer’s fists clenched, his anger simmering beneath the surface. "You had your chance back in the village. You made your choice when you walked away then. So what the hell do you want now?" His golden eyes glowed with intensity, but he stayed put, not wanting to make things worse with the boys around.

Shanks’ face softened, his usual carefree demeanor faltering for a moment. "I heard what you said, Archer. About Roger’s kid. About what happened after he died," he began, his voice quieter now. "I had no idea, and that’s on me. But this isn’t about that right now. I’m not here for any of that."

Rosinante crossed his arms, his voice cutting through the tension like a blade. "Then what are you here for? Because if this is about Luffy, you don’t get to just walk in and act like you’ve been here all along."

Shanks’ eyes met Luffy’s, who still clung to Rosinante’s leg, looking up at his childhood idol with wide, curious eyes. "I made Luffy a promise," Shanks said, his voice gentle. "And I keep my promises."

Archer scoffed, stepping forward. "A promise? You think that erases the years you left him alone? Do you even know what he’s been through?"

Shanks winced but held his ground. "No. And I won’t pretend I do. But I wanted to make sure he’s alright. That’s all."

Archer exchanged a glance with Rosinante, his rage tempered by the confusion of the situation. This wasn’t the reckless pirate he expected to face, but a man trying to make amends in his own way. It didn’t change the fact that Shanks had left Luffy behind, but something about the redhead's demeanor made him hesitate.

Archer’s snarl cut through the tense air like a blade. "Your man, Yasopp, shot me. And you—you were ready to go after me just for stating a fact. What kind of crew are you running?" His voice was laced with fury, barely contained.

At this, Luffy's wide eyes began to fill with tears. His lip quivered as he looked up at Shanks, his hero, the man he had admired for as long as he could remember. "Shanks... is that true? Did you really let him shoot my dad?"

Shanks sighed heavily, rubbing his eyes as if trying to ease the weight of the situation. "Yeah, kid. It’s true," he admitted, his voice low and regretful. "But I didn’t mean for it to happen like that. Things got heated, and Yasopp... he went too far."

Before anyone could react, Ace broke free from Rosinante's protective stance, his small fists clenched with rage. "You let him shoot my dad!" Ace roared, charging at Shanks with all the strength his little body could muster.

Rosinante, with his quick reflexes, reached down and caught Ace by the scruff of his shirt just before the boy could land a blow. Lifting him effortlessly, Rosinante held the squirming child in mid-air, his long arms keeping Ace out of harm's reach.

"Easy there, little grimling," Rosinante said in his usual calm tone, though there was a hint of amusement in his voice despite the tension. He swung Ace gently in the air before setting him back down on the ground, ruffling the boy's hair with a massive hand.

Ace huffed in frustration, glaring at Shanks with a fierce determination that made him look far older than his years. "He shot Dad. He deserves it!"

Shanks, still standing in front of them, looked utterly defeated. The weight of Luffy’s teary gaze, Ace’s fury, and Archer’s seething anger had finally settled on his shoulders. "I know," he said softly, turning his eyes to Archer. "I know I messed up. I can’t change what happened."

Archer's fists remained clenched, but something in Shanks' expression—regret, shame—stopped him from tearing into the man further. Rosinante, still standing guard over the boys, placed a hand on Archer’s shoulder, as if to silently ask for calm.

Rosinante’s eyes narrowed, still not convinced by Shanks' demeanor. "Why are you even here?" he asked, his voice sharp. "And don’t tell me you forced Makino to show you the way."

Before Shanks could respond, Makino stepped forward, shaking her head. "No, Rosi. It wasn’t like that," she said softly, her voice steady but gentle. "It was my idea to bring him here. I thought... maybe it would help clear the air."

Shanks, looking slightly less tense, nodded in agreement. "I didn’t mean for things to go the way they did," he admitted. "I came to say sorry. To make amends for what happened—for what Yasopp did. And for not stepping in sooner."

Archer crossed his arms, still not fully trusting the red-haired pirate. "And how exactly do you plan on making amends for a bullet to my shoulder and the shitstorm you brought to my doorstep?" His voice dripped with sarcasm, but there was genuine pain beneath it.

Shanks took a deep breath, glancing between the group—Luffy, still wiping his eyes, Ace scowling, Rosinante towering protectively over them, and finally, Archer, glaring daggers at him. "I don’t know," Shanks admitted, looking down at his boots for a moment. "But I’ll do whatever it takes. You saved Luffy, you love him. That makes you family, in a way. And I owe you for that."

Luffy’s eyes widened in excitement as he spoke up, breaking the tension that still hung in the air. “We’re actually looking for Taro!” he said, his voice filled with enthusiasm.

Rosinante’s grin widened, and he corrected Luffy with a hint of pride. “We’re looking for a young man named Trafalgar D. Water Law. He’s our oldest boy, last seen about seven years ago in the North Blue.”

Luffy’s eyes grew even bigger. “That’s what I said!” He bounced on his heels.

Archer couldn’t help but smother a grin, the thought of Shanks and his crew helping in their search bringing a spark of hope amid the chaos. Rosinante continued, his tone serious yet hopeful. “If you want to make amends, then helping us find Law would be a good start. We could use all the help we can get.”

Shanks nodded earnestly. “I’ll help. My crew and I travel a lot, so if we come across any leads, we’ll let you know.” He looked at the boys, seeing their hopeful expressions and the sincerity in Rosinante’s eyes. “I’m sorry for everything that happened. This is the least I can do.”

Ace, still fuming but with a sense of resolve, added firmly, “And if Yasopp ever comes near us again, I’ll be the one to finish him.”

Shanks glanced at Ace, seeing the fiery spirit in him and recognizing the resemblance to his late captain and his dad/uncle who was standing beside him. He nodded solemnly. “I understand. I’ll make sure Yasopp stays away.”

Makino, watching the exchange with a warm smile, stepped forward. “I’m glad to see this situation finding a resolution,” she said softly. “It’s good to see people coming together, even after everything that’s happened.”

Four years then passed in a blur. The days stretched on with the familiar rhythm of life at the stronghold. Ace was now 15, almost 16, with a constant spark of mischief in his eyes. Luffy, approaching 13, had become a whirlwind of energy, always one step ahead of his quest to become king of the pirates.

In the midst of all this, Archer’s jokes about going gray had become a reality—but not for him. Rosinante, on the other hand, had become the unwitting victim of time’s cruel sense of humor. It all started with a well-intentioned but disastrous attempt at growing a beard three years ago.

Archer still couldn’t help but laugh whenever he thought about that episode. Rosinante had decided, out of the blue, to grow a beard. Archer, initially thrilled by the prospect, found his excitement waning when the beard came in—gray hairs and all. Rosinante’s horror was palpable. The man had raced to the nearest razor with the kind of urgency only a man facing an existential crisis could muster. Within minutes, the beard was gone, and Rosinante had begged Archer, with a red face, never to mention it again.

But the memory lived on, much to Archer’s delight. “You should see the look on your face,” Archer would tease.

Rosinante, now 35, had managed to keep his blond locks untouched by the gray. Archer found endless amusement in his partner’s occasional attempts to hide his age—though he’d never let Rosinante forget the beard.

Archer and Rosinante were once again gearing up to set sail, their search for Law continuing with no end in sight. The persistent frustration of not finding him weighed heavily on them. Even Shanks and his merry band of idiots, with all their resources and expertise, had been unable to track down the elusive young man. It was as if Law had vanished into thin air, and the growing uncertainty only made Archer more resolute in his quest to find him.

The boys were less inclined to plead to join them this time. Luffy was often seen wandering around the village, usually because Makino had a knack for feeding him enough to keep him out of trouble.

As for Ace, he seemed to be out and about with his own plans and adventures. Archer had learned not to worry too much about where Ace was, as long as he wasn’t causing trouble or, more importantly, getting some girl pregnant. At only 27 Archer was still too young to be a grandfather, and he wasn’t ready to add that to his list of concerns just yet.

Archer and Rosinante packed up their supplies, preparing for the next leg of their journey. The routine was familiar, yet the weight of their mission made it feel more pressing. Rosinante, ever the optimist, tried to keep the mood light, but even his usually cheerful demeanor was tinged with the seriousness of their search. Archer appreciated his efforts, but the tension remained.

As they set sail, Archer couldn’t shake the feeling that Law was out there somewhere, hidden just beyond their reach.

As they docked at the island, Archer and Rosinante disembarked, the latter still shaking his head in bemusement at Archer’s repeated napping episodes. Archer, ever optimistic, led the way to the local tavern to get a sense of the place and, of course, to play a few hands of poker. Rosinante, though amused, was mostly interested in getting some information about their location.

The island was big, even had their own marine base. So they had to be careful. Archer set up shop at a poker table in the back of a fancy bar, quickly catching the attention of the locals with his sharp playing. Rosinante wandered around, asking questions and trying to get the lay of the land, and was planning something special.

Rosinante and Archer strolled hand in hand through the bustling streets of the island. The evening had turned pleasantly cool, the city lights casting a warm glow on the cobblestone streets. Rosinante was practically vibrating with excitement, his plan for the evening taking shape perfectly. He had arranged a special night out for them, a small celebration of the ten years since Archer had rescued him from his brother, an act that, while involving quite a few bullets, had ultimately been the best thing that had ever happened to him.

Archer, blissfully unaware of the evening’s surprises, was content to simply enjoy the company and the atmosphere. He had been thrilled with his winnings from poker, and Rosinante’s infectious enthusiasm was a welcome distraction from their long search for Law.

As they approached the market near the restaurant where Rosinante had made a reservation, Archer noticed Rosinante’s eyes darting around with a mixture of anticipation and secrecy. “You’re being awfully mysterious tonight,” Archer remarked with a playful nudge. “I’m starting to think you’re up to something.”

Rosinante merely grinned and squeezed Archer’s hand tighter. “Oh, you’ll find out soon enough.”

But just as they reached the market, an orange-haired girl about 14 years old dashed into them, nearly knocking them over. She was followed closely by a squad of Marines who were clearly intent on apprehending her. The girl’s face was a mix of fear and exhaustion, and her eyes darted around as if searching for an escape.

Archer’s reflexes were quick; without a second thought, he pulled the girl behind him and Rosinante. Rosinante’s imposing figure shielded the girl from view as they prepared for the approaching Marines. Archer whispered to her urgently, “What’s your name?”

The girl, breathing heavily, responded, “Nami.”

Nodding, Archer and Rosinante braced themselves as the Marine captain and his squad closed in. The captain, his face set in a stern scowl, addressed them with authority. “Hand over the criminal”

Archer scoffed, crossing his arms defiantly. “Why don’t you fuck off and leave our daughter alone?”

Rosinante, his voice calm but carrying the weight of authority, added, “You have no right to arrest our daughter. What exactly is she accused of?”

The Marine captain stiffened, clearly unprepared for the challenge. “She’s a thief, and we caught her trying to break into the Marine headquarters.”

Archer shook his head in disbelief. “Really? Nami, you have to stop flirting with young Marine cadets and setting up secret meetings.”

Nami’s eyes widened, and she quickly caught on to Archer’s pretense. “Sorry, Dad,” she said, playing along with the ruse.

Rosinante, his anger palpable, addressed the Marine captain with a stern voice. “You should keep a better watch over your own men. Our daughter is only 14 years old. If anyone’s a criminal here, it’s your men, preying on innocent young girls!”

The Marine captain flustered, his face reddening as he stammered out numerous apologies. “I’m very sorry! We didn’t mean to cause trouble. We’ll leave immediately.”

With that, the Marines quickly retreated, taking their leave with apologies still tumbling from their lips.

Once the Marines were out of sight, Archer turned to Nami with a smile. “You’re safe now. Are you okay?”

Nami nodded, her face reflecting both relief and gratitude. “Thank you so much. I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t stepped in.”

Rosinante, his expression softening, added, “We’re just glad we could help. But you should be more careful. Those Marines can be relentless.”

As Nami’s stomach rumbled, Archer and Rosinante exchanged a quick glance. Rosinante, with a soft smile, asked, “Are you hungry?”

Nami, her cheeks flushing slightly, nodded. Archer and Rosinante shared a silent agreement and decided to postpone their date night. They headed to a nearby food stall and bought a generous amount of food for all three of them. Finding a quiet table, they settled in to enjoy the meal.

Archer, ever the blunt conversationalist, leaned in with a grin. “So, did you really break into the Marine headquarters?”

Nami’s face turned even redder as she nodded. Archer burst into loud laughter, while Rosinante rubbed his eyes, trying to suppress a chuckle. Archer then said, “Well, we couldn’t care less why you were breaking in. It’s none of our business.”

Nami looked at them curiously and asked, “Who are you two, anyway?”

Grinning, they introduced themselves. “I’m Archer, and this is Rosinante,” Archer said.

Rosinante, ever the practical one, asked, “Do you need a lift away from the island?”

Nami’s eyes brightened with gratitude as she nodded. “That would be wonderful. Thank you.”

They finished their meal, chatting amiably about less contentious topics. Once done, Archer and Rosinante guided Nami back to their ship. As they set sail, Nami looked out at the receding island, feeling a mix of relief and appreciation.

Archer clapped her on the back. “Glad we could help. So, where are you headed?”

After setting Nami off at an island that Archer had already forgotten the name of, he turned to Rosinante with a mischievous grin. “You know, I think Nami had a crush on you. I mean, it’s understandable, considering you’re so damn hot.”

Rosinante laughed heartily, shaking his head. “Well, I got the feeling she might have had a little crush on you too, Archer.”

Archer puffed out his chest with mock pride. “Of course she did! I’m the savior of young maidens, after all!”

With a glint in his eye, he added, “And old cradle robbers,” giving Rosinante a playful wink.

Rosinante, his cheeks flushing slightly, swatted at Archer. “You’re insufferable.”

They began to playfight, laughing and jostling each other when a gruff voice rang out, cutting through their merriment. “Even after 10 years, you two still act like teenagers! And here I’m starting to think that little eggplant is more mature than you!”

Archer and Rosinante froze, turning around to see Zeff standing on the deck of the Baratie, hands on his hips and a stern expression on his face. How the hell had they missed the giant floating restaurant?

Zeff, looking both amused and exasperated, continued, “I see you two are still causing trouble wherever you go. Come on, let’s get inside. I’ve got a table saved for you.”

Archer and Rosinante exchanged surprised glances, then laughed, shaking their heads. “Well, I guess that answers where we’re headed next,” Archer said, grinning.

It was great to see Zeff and Sanji again, even if the kid was still a bit on the scrawny side. Archer had a blast teasing him about his suit, and Rosinante couldn’t help but chuckle at the playful exchange. Zeff, ever the gruff yet caring figure, made sure they had a room ready for the night.

As they settled into their room, Rosinante took a moment to look around, appreciating the nostalgic atmosphere. “Seems like old times,” he remarked, a smile playing on his lips. Archer, still buzzing from the excitement, nodded enthusiastically.

Archer was in the middle of pulling off his shirt when Rosinante suddenly grew serious. He looked at Archer, his expression a mix of nervousness and determination. “Archer,” he began, “do you know what day it is?”

Archer blinked, momentarily thrown off by the question. He furrowed his brows, searching his memory. “Uh, not really. I’ve lost track of days with all this traveling. Why?”

Rosinante took a deep breath, then looked Archer in the eye with a serious yet tender gaze. “There’s something I need to talk to you about.”

Archer’s heart skipped a beat, and a wave of panic surged through him. His eyes widened as he stammered, “Rosi, you’re not… breaking up with me, are you?”

Rosinante’s expression softened into a reassuring smile. “No, it’s nothing like that.”

Before Archer could fully process what was happening, Rosinante dropped to one knee, pulling a small velvet box from his pocket. He opened it to reveal a stunning ring. Rosinante’s voice trembled slightly but remained steady. “Archer, I love you. I love our kids and the life we’ve built together. I know we’re two guys, and the world might not always understand, but I want to make it official between us. Will you marry me?”

Archer’s eyes filled with tears of surprise and joy. His mouth opened and closed a few times as he tried to find words, but in the end, he was overwhelmed. Without saying a word, he threw himself at Rosinante, enveloping him in a huge, heartfelt hug. The ring was almost forgotten as Archer clung to him, his emotions pouring out in a mix of laughter and tears.

Rosinante laughed softly, wrapping his arms around Archer and holding him close. “So, is that a yes?” he asked, his voice full of hope and affection.

Archer pulled back slightly; his face flushed with happiness. “Yes! Of course, yes!” He leaned in and kissed Rosinante deeply, savoring the moment.

The two of them stayed like that for a while, lost in their own world, their laughter and whispers mingling with the soft glow of the evening light. For the first time in a long while, the weight of their quest and worries seemed to lift, leaving only the joy of a new beginning.

Archer's fingers traced Rosinante's defined jawline, his golden eyes sparkling with mischief. "You won't regret this, Rosi," he whispered, his breath hot against Rosinante's ear. Rosinante's cheeks flushed, a mix of pleasure and shyness washing over him. He adored Archer's boldness, the way he took charge, and made him feel desired.

Leaning in, Archer captured Rosinante's lips in a hungry kiss. Their mouths moved in perfect sync, tongues dancing and exploring, tasting each other's eagerness. Archer's hands roamed freely, caressing Rosinante's muscular back, tracing the lines of his tattoos, and then sliding down to grip his firm ass.

Rosinante moaned into the kiss, his body responding eagerly to Archer's touch. With expert hands, Archer undid the buttons of Rosinante's shirt, revealing his chiseled chest. He nipped at Rosinante's neck, leaving a trail of kisses down his collarbone, making the taller man shudder with anticipation.

Rosinante's hands tangled in Archer's wavy blond hair, guiding him, encouraging more. "Impatient, aren't you?" Archer teased, his fingers deftly unbuckling Rosinante's belt. He pushed the pants down Rosinante's strong legs, revealing his growing erection.

Archer's eyes darkened with desire as he took in the sight of Rosinante's thick, throbbing cock. In a swift move, Archer stripped himself naked, his own hard length bouncing freely. He pushed Rosinante back onto the bed, the mattress creaking under their weight. Rosinante's blue eyes widened with surprise as Archer straddled his lap, his long legs framing Rosinante's muscular body

Archer turned his body, presenting his perfect ass to Rosinante. Archer moaned softly as he reached behind, grabbing the lube from the bedside table. He coated his fingers generously, his eyes locked with Rosinante's, challenging and seductive.

With deliberate slowness, he pushed one finger inside himself, his breath catching as he stretched his own hole. Rosinante's cock twitched, pre-cum glistening at the tip, as he watched Archer's sensual self-preparation. "Fuck, you're gorgeous," Rosinante groaned, his voice rough with need.

Archer added another finger, scissoring himself open, his moans becoming more pronounced. He wanted to make this moment last, to tease them both to the brink of insanity. Archer's fingers worked their magic, and soon he was ready for more. He positioned himself over Rosinante's throbbing erection, slowly lowering himself, taking in the thick length inch by inch. Rosinante's hands gripped Archer's hips, his knuckles turning white as he fought the urge to thrust upwards. "Oh gods, Archer," Rosinante grunted, his eyes rolling back in pleasure.

Archer's breath came in sharp gasps as he adjusted to the fullness, his body accommodating Rosinante's impressive size. With a slow, deliberate motion, Archer began to ride, setting a gentle rhythm that had Rosinante's cock sliding in and out of his tight heat.

Archer's head fell back, his golden hair cascading down his shoulders, as he picked up the pace. His ass clenched rhythmically around Rosinante's shaft, milking him as he rode harder. Rosinante's hands traveled up Archer's sculpted back, his fingers digging into the firm flesh, leaving marks of passion. "Fuck me, Rosinante," Archer panted, his voice hoarse and desperate.

Rosinante's control snapped at Archer's words. He gripped Archer's hips tightly, his fingers digging into the soft flesh, and began to thrust upwards, driving his cock deep into Archer's willing body. Archer cried out, his head thrown back, his blond hair a wild halo around his face. The pace was brutal, each thrust sending waves of pleasure through both their bodies.

Archer's ass clenched and released, massaging Rosinante's cock, driving him closer to the edge. Rosinante's hips snapped upwards, his balls slapping against Archer's, as he pounded into him with abandon. "I'm close," Archer gasped, his body tense and glistening with sweat. "So close" Rosinante's response was a primal growl as he slammed into Archer one final time. Archer's body tightened around him, milking his cock as he exploded, his seed coating Rosinante's chest and chin.

At the same moment, Rosinante's cock pulsed deep within Archer, filling him with hot cum. Archer collapsed onto Rosinante's chest, his breath coming in ragged gasps. Rosinante's arms wrapped around him, holding him close, their hearts pounding in unison.

It wasn’t until much later, when the room had gone quiet except for their steady breaths, that Archer’s eyes drifted toward the door. He blinked, realizing that they hadn’t fully closed it. He smirked, nudging Rosinante gently.

"Rosi," Archer whispered, chuckling, "we forgot to close the door."

Rosinante, too relaxed to care, simply grinned and kissed Archer’s forehead. "Not like it matters," he mumbled sleepily, pulling Archer closer. And honestly, they didn’t care much. Not after everything they’d been through. The world could wait.

The next morning, after dressing and preparing to leave the Baratie, they found themselves bidding farewell to Zeff and Sanji. Zeff waved them off with a grunt, but Sanji, on the other hand, was acting strange. The normally confident and composed young cook was beet red, avoiding their eyes as he mumbled his goodbyes.

Archer raised an eyebrow at the boy’s behavior, exchanging a confused glance with Rosinante. They shrugged it off for the time being, thinking Sanji might just be embarrassed about something unrelated. With warm smiles and a few lighthearted words, they parted ways, ready to head back home to their boys.

It wasn’t until much later—when they were back at sea, sailing home—that Archer and Rosinante finally connected the dots. Archer was the first to burst out laughing, his head thrown back in mirth. “Oh gods,” he gasped, “Sanji must’ve have seen us last night!”

Rosinante, blushing crimson, covered his face with his hands. “Oh no… Poor kid,” he groaned. “No wonder he couldn’t look us in the eye.”

Archer wiped away a tear of laughter, still chuckling. "Well, if he wasn’t corrupted before, he sure is now."

Rosinante shook his head, a mixture of embarrassment and amusement on his face. "Let’s just not bring it up next time we see him."

"Agreed," Archer said, grinning mischievously as he steered the ship.

Chapter Text

Archer hadn't stopped yelling since the moment they returned home. The second they’d set foot inside the door, the air was filled with his booming voice, frustration practically radiating off him as he stomped back and forth across the room. His tirade had gone on for so long that even Rosinante managed to slip away for a quick shower, dry off, and head outside to help Luffy with whatever he had gotten himself into this time.

But when Rosinante came back inside, the scene hadn’t changed much. Archer was still pacing, arms flailing dramatically, voice rising and falling as he scolded Ace with relentless passion. His rant had become something of a performance at this point, with wide arm gestures and exaggerated facial expressions. Rosinante almost chuckled but held it back, knowing this was serious—though, maybe not this serious.

"—AND WHAT THE HELL WERE YOU THINKING?! A POKER GAME?!" Archer bellowed, eyes wild. “You’re 15! Do you know how dangerous that fruit is?! You could’ve blown up the whole damn island by now! I can’t believe—!”

Rosinante quietly leaned against the doorframe, watching the chaos unfold. Luffy poked his head in from outside, biting into a piece of meat with wide eyes, clearly curious about whether Ace was about to get set on fire…literally.

Meanwhile, Ace, the poor soul being subjected to the endless ranting, was slumped over in his chair. His head rested on the table, his eyes half-open as if he’d been drained of all energy. At some point during Archer’s tirade, Ace had given up trying to defend himself or explain anything. In fact, as Rosinante glanced over, he realized with a small smirk that Ace had actually fallen asleep mid-yell.

“...And another thing—" Archer continued, not noticing Ace’s state at all. "You could’ve eaten any fruit, Ace, but the Mera Mera no Mi?! FIRE? Really? You’re playing with fire, and not just literally! Do you even know what kind of responsibility comes with that power?! What if you hurt someone? What if—?”

Rosinante cleared his throat, trying to get Archer’s attention. When that didn’t work, he stepped forward and gently tapped Archer on the shoulder.

“Arch,” Rosinante said softly, stifling a grin, “he’s asleep.”

Archer blinked, his arms frozen in mid-air as he turned to look at Ace. Sure enough, Ace was drooling on the table, snoring lightly.

Archer deflated instantly. His anger dissolved into pure disbelief as he stared at his son, who had somehow managed to nod off while being screamed at. “Are you kidding me?” Archer muttered, rubbing his face in frustration. “He… He fell asleep?! I’ve been yelling for half an hour!”

Rosinante smiled sympathetically and wrapped an arm around Archer’s shoulders. “You’re very loud, love. Maybe a bit too loud.”

Luffy, still hanging halfway inside the door, chimed in with his mouth full, “Ace never really listens when you yell, anyway dad.”

Archer shot him a look, and Luffy wisely backed out of the room with his hands raised. “Just saying!” he called, quickly disappearing outside.

Archer sighed and dropped down into the chair next to Ace, looking at his sleeping son with a mix of affection and exasperation. “I can’t believe him. Winning the damn Mera Mera no Mi in a poker game. A poker game. That’s my move.”

Rosinante chuckled, sitting beside Archer. “He’s your kid. He’s bound to pick up a few tricks.”

“Yeah, but…” Archer shook his head, still trying to wrap his mind around the whole thing. “It’s the Mera Mera no Mi, Rosi. That’s one of the most dangerous Devil Fruits out there.”

“I know,” Rosinante said gently, “but he’s strong. He’s smart too. He’ll figure it out.”

Archer ran a hand through his hair, leaning back in the chair. “He’s just… so damn reckless. What if he gets himself killed?”

Rosinante squeezed his hand, his voice soft and reassuring. “We won’t lose him. You and I both know how resilient Ace is. He’ll learn to control it. And he has us to help him.”

Archer exhaled slowly, his shoulders relaxing as Rosinante’s words sank in. “Yeah, you’re right.”

Then, Archer spotted some else. Archer’s heart pounded in his chest as he grabbed Ace’s shoulders, shaking him awake. He had barely recovered from the shock of discovering Ace had eaten the Mera Mera no Mi, but the tattoos were too much. "What the hell, Ace?! First, you eat a devil fruit, and now tattoos?! What’s next, you’re gonna tell us you knocked someone up?!"

Ace, still groggy from being abruptly woken, blinked up at his enraged dad, utterly confused. "What?! No, I didn’t—" He glanced over at Rosinante, his eyes pleading for help. "Papa! Help! I’m not gonna be a father!"

Rosinante, grinning like a cat who caught a canary, walked over and effortlessly lifted a still-kicking Archer off of Ace. "Alright, alright, calm down, Archer," he said with a laugh. "Let the kid breathe. Remember, you were only twelve when you won and ate your devil fruit, in a game of poker too. Luffy was six. And I was fifteen when I got mine. Cut him some slack."

Archer glared at Rosinante; his anger momentarily redirected. "Oh, real helpful, Rosi," he muttered darkly. "But this is different!"

Ace, now awake and sitting up, rubbed the sleep from his eyes and groaned. "It’s not like I planned it, okay? The tattoos are just… something I wanted. And the devil fruit was... a gamble." He glanced nervously between his two dads. "And no, I didn’t knock anyone up, I swear!"

Rosinante, still holding Archer by the waist like he weighed nothing, leaned down and whispered with a grin, "You’re overreacting, love." Then, as if to prove his point, he licked Archer’s cheek playfully.

Archer sputtered, squirming in Rosi’s hold, wiping his cheek furiously. "What the—ugh, Rosi! That’s not fair!"

Ace, now fully awake, looked at his dads, both bickering and acting more like teenagers than parents, and couldn’t help but laugh. "You two are ridiculous," he muttered, shaking his head.

Luffy, who had been watching from the doorway, piped up with a grin. "Hey, I like the tattoos! Maybe I’ll get some when I’m older!"

That was enough to send Archer into another round of exasperated shouting, while Rosinante just chuckled and carried him away from the chaos, still grinning like it was the funniest thing in the world.

Later, after Archer had somewhat calmed down—thanks in no small part to Rosinante’s expert calming methods—they made their way to the dining hall. As they entered, Dadan greeted him with her usual sarcastic charm. "Oh, Archer, you're home? I didn’t hear you at all!"

That one-liner was all it took to set the whole room off. The bandits erupted in laughter, and Ace and Luffy, his two bratty sons, were practically doubled over. Even Rosinante had to cover his mouth, a grin spreading wide on his face.

Archer, his face still flushed from earlier, scowled. "Yeah, yeah, laugh it up," he muttered, trying to suppress the growing smirk on his face. He was mad, but it was hard to stay angry with all the laughter bouncing around the room.

He sighed, shaking his head as he glanced at Ace, who was clearly enjoying the situation a little too much.

And that would not do. Archer locked eyes with Ace, the teen's grin faltering as he caught the intense stare from his dad. Ace paled. Before the brat could get any ideas about running, Archer flashed him a shark-like smile, the kind that promised trouble. "Show me," Archer growled.

Ace, trying to stay cocky, shot back, "You couldn't afford it."

Luffy, sitting next to him, immediately snorted milk through his nose at that one, nearly choking on his laughter. Rosinante facepalmed, shaking his head, while Dadan and her bandits burst into roaring laughter, thoroughly enjoying the show.

Archer's eyes narrowed to dangerous slits. Without a word, he leaped over the table, tackling Ace to the ground with surprising speed. "I can and I WILL whoop your ass, 15 or not!" Archer yelled, pinning the teen down as Ace squirmed beneath him, laughing despite the mock wrestling.

"Dad!" Ace yelped between laughs, trying to shove him off. But Archer had the advantage, and he wasn’t letting up, not until he got a proper look at those damn tattoos.

Rosinante stood back, arms crossed and shaking his head with an amused sigh. "Honestly," he muttered, "we're raising children here… including you, Archer."

The bandits continued to laugh, while Luffy egged them on with chants of, "Whoop him, Dad!"

Ace, having finally wriggled free from Archer's pin, sat up and began rolling up his sleeves with a smirk. He revealed the tattoos on his arm, starting with the letters for him and his brothers. Archer's eyes softened when he saw the cross over the 'S' for Sabo. It was a simple gesture, but it tugged at his heart, making the lump in his throat swell.

Luffy, still a bit red from snorting milk, squinted at the tattoos and asked, "Why isn’t there an 'L' for me?"

Ace grinned mischievously and pointed to the letter 'C' on his arm. "That's for you," he said, barely containing his laughter. "It stands for 'Cry Baby.'"

Before Luffy could protest, Archer gave Ace a swift, playful slap on the back of the head. "Watch it," he warned, though he couldn't suppress the grin forming on his lips.

Ace then turned to show off the heart tattoo over the 'A,' which was for Law. "This one's for Law," he said, his voice softer. "Still missing, but always in our hearts."

Lastly, Ace revealed the tattoo on his ribs—a roaring bear head with half a star beneath its eye. "This one," he said with a proud grin, "is for you guys. For you and Papa."

Archer’s eyes misted up as he took in the sight of the bear. The symbol was a strong reminder of their family bond and the love they shared. He reached out and pulled Ace into a tight hug. "You little brat," Archer murmured, his voice choked with emotion. "You really know how to make a dad proud."

Rosinante walked over, placing a hand on Archer’s shoulder. "See? I told you he’d turn out great," he said with a soft smile.

Archer nodded, still holding Ace close. "Yeah," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "You’ve done well, Ace. We’re all so proud of you."

Archer cleared his throat, a determined look on his face. “Ace,” he said, “is there anything else you need to tell us? Any piercings or other things we should know about? It’s important, especially since they can get infected—”

Rosinante couldn’t help but chuckle, cutting in with a grin, “You’re such a Mama Bear, Archer.”

Ace rolled his eyes but shook his head, signaling that there were no piercings to worry about. “Nope, nothing like that,” he said, his tone a mix of relief and defiance.

As he headed towards the door, Archer opened his mouth to continue, but Ace was already on the move. He glanced back over his shoulder with a mischievous grin. “Oh, and by the way,” he called out, “when I turn 17, I’m setting out to sea. Sabo, Luffy, and I promised each other we’d do it.”

Before Archer could react, Ace darted out the door, leaving his parents and the rest of the crew in stunned silence.

Archer’s face turned an interesting shade of red, his mouth working silently as he tried to process the news. “What? No, Ace! You can’t just—”

Rosinante, leaning against the doorframe with an amused smirk, gently placed a hand on Archer’s shoulder. “Let him go,” he said softly. “He’s following his dreams, just like we did.”

Archer sighed, his shoulders slumping. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. But it’s hard not to worry.”

Rosinante nodded, still smiling. “It is. But we’ve raised him well. He’s strong and smart, just like his old man.”

As the day of Ace’s departure approached, the atmosphere in the stronghold was a mix of excitement and bittersweet emotions. Archer and Rosinante had spent the morning checking supplies and preparing a small farewell celebration for their son. Ace, now 17 and more determined than ever, was bustling around, finalizing his preparations.

Rosinante approached Ace, who was busy packing his gear. “So, kiddo,” Rosinante said with a grin, “do you have a boat? You know, something to sail away on?”

Ace, looking slightly sheepish, shook his head. “Not yet. I figured I’d find something when I get out there. I’ll manage.”

Archer and Rosinante then led him to the dock and watched with satisfaction as Ace’s eyes widened in disbelief. The old Ketch Archer had first stolen so long ago, now meticulously restored and renamed "Rouge," sat proudly at the dock. The boat was now a sleek and sturdy vessel, ready for its new owner’s adventures.

Ace approached the ship, his expression a mix of awe and confusion. “This is incredible,” he said, touching the polished wood of the deck. “I can’t believe you did this for me.”

Archer grinned, leaning against the railing. “Well, we figured you’d need something to set sail with. Plus, it’s a bit of a family tradition, isn’t it? Stealing ships and making them our own.”

Rosinante chuckled, patting Ace on the back. “We’ve had this old girl fixed up for you. It’s the least we could do. Besides, Archer’s already got plans to steal a new ship for us once Luffy turns 17.”

Archer’s grin widened. “Yep, I’ve got it all planned out. We’ll head for the Grand Line, see if we can find Law, and then maybe we’ll even have an adventure or two along the way.”

Ace looked at his dads, a mixture of gratitude and excitement in his eyes. “I don’t even know how to thank you both. This is more than I could have hoped for.”

Rosinante smiled warmly. “You don’t have to thank us. Just make sure to take care of Rouge and be safe. We’ll be writing to you.”

Ace nodded, his resolve firm. “I will. I promise. I’ll make sure to send word.”

As Ace prepared to set sail, Archer and Rosinante stood at the dock, watching with pride and a tinge of sadness as their son embarked on his journey. The horizon stretched out before Ace, full of possibilities and challenges

As Ace sailed further out, a safe distance from the dock, he shouted back, “I hope you’ve changed the sheets!” His voice carried over the water, making Archer’s face turn a deep shade of crimson.

Archer, his face flushed with embarrassment and rage, started ranting again, his words a mix of indignation and flustered embarrassment. “That little brat! I can’t believe—”

Before he could finish, Rosinante swooped in, lifting Archer effortlessly onto his shoulders. “Let it go,” Rosinante said, laughing as he waved to Ace, who was already a small figure against the horizon. “You know, he’s going to give us hell about this for years.”

Luffy, who had been watching the entire exchange with a mix of amusement and curiosity, giggled and joined in on the wave, waving at Ace with unrestrained enthusiasm. “Bye, Ace!”

As they walked back to the stronghold, Archer still muttering under his breath, Rosinante looked at him with a smirk. “Well, then there were one,” Rosinante said, nodding toward the almost-empty stronghold.

Archer sighed, but there was a glimmer of affection in his eyes. “Yeah, then there were one. And a mountain of laundry to do.”

Chapter Text

It was strange without Ace around. Not that the place was quieter—oh no, Luffy made sure of that—but there was something missing. The house just felt... off. Still, Luffy was enough of a handful to keep them both busy, and Archer had no problem staying distracted.

Rosinante, however, had gotten it in his head that they needed to start training Luffy to properly use his devil fruit powers. Why? Because apparently, two years from now, the little brat was going to sail out on his own. The idea of Luffy, uncoordinated and reckless as ever, out on the open seas was... terrifying. And hilarious.

What really cracked Archer up was the fact that Rosinante, the most clumsy person Archer had ever met, was the one determined to help Luffy get it together. Archer had seen Rosi trip over his own feet, spill coffee over important maps, and accidentally set his sleeve on fire while cooking, blowing up a Marine ship by pointing his beloved bazooka the wrong way. So, the idea of him training Luffy was a disaster waiting to happen.

But oh, it was going to be entertaining to watch.

"I mean, really, Rosi," Archer said one day, leaning against the doorframe with a grin. "You, of all people, training him? That's a whole new level of irony."

Rosinante, hands on his hips as he tried to instruct Luffy, shot him a look. "I may be clumsy, but I know what I'm doing."

"Do you now?" Archer teased. "You do remember the time you tripped over a rope and fell into the ocean and I had to use a fishing rod to catch you right?"

"That was one time!" Rosinante huffed, but even he couldn’t suppress the small smile creeping onto his face.

Luffy, meanwhile, stretched his arm out in an attempt to grab a tree branch—and missed by a mile, landing face-first in the dirt. "Like I said," Archer muttered, suppressing a chuckle. "Recipe for disaster."

Rosinante sighed, walking over to help Luffy up. "We'll get there," he muttered, more to himself than anyone else.

Archer just leaned back, arms crossed, watching them with amusement. "Yeah, this’ll be fun."

Training Luffy was an adventure of its own. The kid was a walking disaster waiting to happen, but his resilience made up for it. The real challenge was getting Luffy to show a bit of restraint. Not exactly surprising, considering how he was raised—with Archer’s motto of "swing it till you wring it." And of all the kids, Luffy embodied that philosophy more than anyone else.

Archer had been enjoying a peaceful moment swinging through the trees with Luffy, completely unaware of the chaotic event that was about to unfold. Luffy, spotting Shanks and Ben Beckman down below, got that mischievous glint in his eye—the one that always made Archer nervous.

Without warning, Luffy stretched his arm back toward a tree behind Shanks, grabbing Archer with his free hand. "What the—Luffy, don’t you dare!" Archer started to protest, but it was too late. With a wild grin, Luffy let go, flinging them both through the air at lightning speed.

Archer’s screams filled the forest. "LUFFY! YOU LITTLE—" His words were lost as they rocketed toward an oblivious Shanks and Ben, who were just standing there, unaware of the chaos descending upon them.

Before either Shanks or Ben could react, they were bulldozed by a flying Archer and a laughing Luffy. The four of them tumbled into a heap on the ground, Archer groaning in frustration while Luffy rolled around in fits of uncontrollable laughter. Shanks, dazed, blinked a few times before breaking into his usual wide grin. "Well, well! Nice to see you too, Archer."

Archer, still trying to untangle himself, glared at Luffy. "I’m gonna strangle this kid one of these days…"

Archer tried to regain his composure, standing up and brushing off his pants in an attempt to look dignified—though his tousled hair and the dirt covering him from the crash didn't help. Looking at Shanks and Ben, he asked, "So, what are you two doing here?"

Shanks, wearing his usual laid-back smile, replied, "We came with some news, but I'd rather wait for your better half to show up."

Nodding in understanding, Archer invited them inside for a drink. As they headed toward the stronghold, Archer casually pulled off his boot, and without even looking, threw it straight at Luffy, who was already sneaking off to the kitchen to raid the meat supply. The boot struck Luffy square on the back of the head. "Oi dad! What was that for?" Luffy yelped, rubbing his head.

Ben Beckman let out a low whistle, clearly impressed. "Good aim," he commented with a smirk.

Archer just grinned. "You pick up a few things when you’ve got kids like mine," he replied as Luffy sulked.

Archer poured beers for himself, Shanks, and Ben, leaning against the counter as he took a long swig. He eyed Shanks critically, noticing a few fresh scars over his eye. “You look like shit,” Archer said bluntly. “What the hell happened? “

Shanks, now fully accustomed to Archer's legendary lack of filter, grinned as he raised his drink. “You should see the other guy,” he replied with a wink, clearly unfazed by the younger man’s directness.

Archer chuckled, then turned toward the door, yelling at Luffy, “Oi! Go down to the village and fetch your papa. If you’re quick, you’ll get your own roast for dinner.”

Without a second thought, Luffy bolted out the door like a bat out of hell, the promise of food motivating him more than anything. The door slammed behind him, and the dust barely settled before Ben Beckman, who had been watching the whole exchange with wide eyes, turned to Shanks with his mouth slightly open. “Is... is this normal?” he asked, still trying to wrap his head around the chaos of the household.

Shanks just grinned, clearly enjoying the scene. “Yep, that’s pretty much how things go around here,” he replied, taking another sip of his beer.

Archer wasn’t one for small talk, so naturally, he cut straight to the point. “How’s that shithead’s wife doing?” he asked, referring to Yasopp, Shanks' infamous sniper.

Ben Beckman nearly choked on his beer, coughing as he set his mug down. Shanks sighed, rubbing the back of his neck before replying, “She passed away a few years back.”

Archer grunted, his bluntness cutting through any awkwardness. “Did the idiot at least go back to his kid?” he asked, his voice gruff but carrying a hint of concern.

Shaking his head, Shanks frowned. “No. He didn’t. But I send the kid money every month to make sure he’s alright. At least he has that.”

For a moment, Archer stayed quiet, staring into his beer as if contemplating the weight of Shanks’ words. Finally, he nodded, lifting his gaze to Shanks. “You’re a good man,” Archer muttered before scowling. “But that bastard Yasopp? He just moved up my shitlist.”

Shanks chuckled softly, knowing Archer’s way of giving compliments was rough around the edges. Ben, still recovering from nearly choking, gave Shanks a sideways glance. “Only Archer would find a way to insult someone and compliment them in the same breath,” he muttered with a wry smile.

Archer just shrugged. “What? It’s the truth.”

Outside, a loud scream pierced the air, followed by Luffy's infectious laughter, a loud crash, and more yelling. Archer clasped his hands together, an amused grin spreading across his face. "That must be Rosi and Luffy coming back," he said, barely containing his chuckles.

As Archer, Shanks, and Ben stepped outside, they were greeted by a comical scene. Rosinante, covered in dust, was chasing a grinning Luffy around, his voice echoing with exaggerated anger. "I’m going to tan your hide, you little brat!" he yelled, but Luffy only laughed louder.

"Hey, Dad told me to pick you up!" Luffy shouted back, dodging another swipe from Rosinante.

Archer couldn't help but call out with a mischievous glint in his eye, "Not like that, Luffy! Your Papa is an old man; you’ve got to be careful with him!"

Rosinante, hearing Archer’s comment, turned toward him, his face flushing with indignation. "I’m not old and fragile!" he shouted, before making a dramatic run toward Archer. But, as if to emphasize the point, Rosinante tripped over his own feet and tumbled forward.

Archer, Luffy, and Shanks erupted into laughter, while Ben just stood there, eyes wide in shock at the chaotic, yet heartwarming display of family life. Rosinante, lying sprawled on the ground, looked up with a sheepish grin, his cheeks red with embarrassment but his eyes twinkling with amusement.

Archer bent down, helping Rosinante up, giving him a kiss while still laughing. "See, Rosi? Even Luffy's got more grace than you sometimes," he teased, giving his partner a gentle pat on the back.

Rosinante grumbled but couldn’t hide his smile. "And I suppose you think you’re the picture of grace yourself?"

"Well, I don’t trip over my own feet," Archer replied with a smirk.

Luffy, still laughing, chimed in, "Papa and Dad are just a bunch of big kids!"

Shanks, wiping a tear from his eye, shook his head in disbelief.

Ben, finally breaking out of his shock, managed a wry smile. "Seems like things are never boring with you guys."

Archer grinned, looking at his chaotic, beloved family. "Never a dull moment," he agreed.

Archer, still holding Rosinante’s hand, turned to Shanks with a mix of excitement and anticipation. “So, what’s the news?” he asked, eager to hear what Shanks had to say.

Shanks’s expression shifted to a more serious tone. “We’ve got news about Ace,” he began. “He’s joined up with the Whitebeard Pirates. They’ve given him the nickname ‘Fire Fist,’ and his bounty has been set at 90 million berries.”

At the mention of Ace’s name and the impressive bounty, Archer couldn’t help himself. He grabbed Luffy and began dancing around, his joy palpable. “My son’s a wanted man!” he proclaimed, grinning from ear to ear. “I’m so proud of him!”

Rosinante, however, was less enthusiastic. He sighed and turned to Shanks, concern evident in his eyes. “What do you know about Whitebeard?” he asked. “And will Ace be somewhat safe with him?”

Shanks nodded, understanding Rosinante’s worry. “Whitebeard is one of the most powerful pirates in the world. He’s not someone you want to cross, but he has a reputation for taking care of his crew. He’s a man of his word and values his crew’s loyalty. Ace will be safe as long as he respects the hierarchy and doesn’t cross Whitebeard.”

Rosinante’s expression relaxed slightly, though he still looked uneasy. “That’s good to hear,” he said. “But it’s still a dangerous world out there.”

Shanks agreed. “Yes, it is. But Ace has proven himself capable. And being with Whitebeard, he’ll have a strong protector.”

Archer, still basking in his pride, gave Rosinante a reassuring smile. “See? Our boy’s making a name for himself.”

Rosinante nodded, though his worry remained. “Yes, he is. And I’m proud of him too.”

Shanks leaned in with a serious expression and handed Rosinante a folded piece of paper. As Rosinante took it, Archer peered over his shoulder. The paper was a wanted poster, and Archer's heart skipped a beat as he read:

Trafalgar D. Water Law

Surgeon of Death

150,000,000 Berries

The two men stood in stunned silence. After so many years of searching, they finally had a lead on Law. Archer looked over at Rosinante, who was visibly moved, tears streaming down his cheeks. Seeing his partner's emotional reaction, Archer gently guided him away from Shanks and Ben, excusing them with a murmured apology.

Behind the bathhouse, Archer embraced Rosinante tightly. “He’s alive,” Archer whispered, his voice filled with reassurance. “We’ve found him. We will get to him.”

Rosinante hugged Archer back, his tears soaking into Archer’s shoulder as he nodded. “I knew we’d find him,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “Thank you for not giving up.”

After a few moments, they composed themselves and returned to Shanks and Ben. Archer, determined to focus on the next step, asked where they had gotten the poster. Shanks explained that the poster had been seen on the Grand Line, confirming Archer’s earlier guess about Law’s whereabouts.

Luffy, who had been quietly listening, suddenly spoke up. “You should go after him,” he said with unexpected maturity. “I can stay with Dadan and Makino until I’m ready to set out myself.”

Archer and Rosinante exchanged a look of surprise. “Are you sure, Luffy? It won’t be easy.”

Luffy nodded firmly. “Yeah. I’ll be fine. You need to find Law. I’ll stay here and help out.”

Archer ruffled Luffy’s hair and smiled. “Alright then. We’ll find him, and you make sure to be good until it’s your turn.”

Turning back to Shanks, Archer made a request with a grin. “So, could we catch a lift to the the next island? I promise not to kill Yasopp.”

Shanks chuckled and gave a nod. “Alright, we’ll give you a lift. And I’m sure Yasopp will appreciate not having to deal with you.”

The urgency of their preparations was a mix of excitement and sorrow. Archer and Rosinante packed their essentials: clothes, weapons, and Rosinante’s beloved bazooka. As they hurried, there was a heavy silence between them, punctuated only by the occasional clatter of items being stowed away. The bittersweet reality of leaving Luffy behind weighed on them, knowing they might not return for a long time, if at all.

Saying goodbye was tough. Dadan’s tears fell freely as she hugged them both tightly. “You take care of yourselves,” she choked out, her voice breaking.

Archer’s throat tightened. “We will, Dadan. We promise.”

The goodbyes continued as they made their way to the village. Makino and Wool Slap were both there, their faces etched with concern. Archer and Rosinante asked them to look after Luffy, promising to send word as soon as they could. Makino took Luffy’s hand, giving him a reassuring smile, while Wool Slap gave a solemn nod.

With everything in order, Archer and Rosinante boarded Shanks' ship. As the vessel began to pull away from the dock, Archer and Rosinante stood on the deck, waving at Luffy.

The young teenager stood at the edge of the pier, eyes wide and determined. Archer gave him a final wave, feeling a pang of sadness and pride. Luffy waved back, his expression a mixture of excitement and love.

As the ship gained distance from the island, Shanks and his crew busied themselves with preparations, and Archer and Rosinante took a moment to look at each other.

Shanks, ever the patient man, was happy to say goodbye to the couple. Archer’s relentless energy and antics was really tiring. After the long journey, the Red-Haired Pirates dropped Archer and Rosinante off on an island a few islands over, where Shanks could finally breathe a sigh of relief. Yasopp, who had been hiding in the crow’s nest since they boarded, didn’t even show his face until they were about to part ways. With a firm handshake and a nod, Archer and Rosinante said their goodbyes to Shanks, who seemed more than happy to see them go.

Archer’s plan for finding Law was simple yet audacious: steal a ship. The approach was the same as when he had stolen The Rouge years ago, and Archer felt confident in their strategy. They set out to find the perfect vessel, and it didn’t take long. Anchored in the harbor was a large merchant ship—just the type they needed.

Archer and Rosinante set their plan into motion. Archer, ever the master of persuasion, decided to get the merchant drunk. He sauntered into a local tavern and started buying drinks, quickly turning the merchant’s evening into a drunken haze. Meanwhile, Rosinante headed to a rougher bar where the ship’s crew frequented. He threw himself into the brawl, knocking out the crew members one by one with a mix of surprising skill and brute strength.

With the merchant and his crew incapacitated, Archer and Rosinante sprinted towards the harbor. They jumped aboard the merchant ship with ease, their faces lighting up with triumph. Rosinante quickly took the helm while Archer enthusiastically adjusted the sails, both of them laughing and grinning like madmen. As they sailed away, their hearts raced with the thrill of their latest escapade.

They shared a triumphant kiss, savoring the moment of victory and the thrill of the adventure ahead. The ship, now theirs, cut through the waves as they set their course for the Grand Line, ready to face whatever challenges awaited them in their search for Law.

Archer and Rosinante were still riding high from their successful heist when a young man staggered out from below deck. The newcomer was around 17, with strikingly green hair that looked like it belonged to a cabbage rather than a human. Archer's eyes widened in surprise at the vibrant color, his mind already buzzing with thoughts about this "cabbagehead" who had just appeared on their stolen ship.

Rosinante, ever the more practical of the two, was the first to react. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion and irritation. "Who the hell are you?" he demanded, his voice cutting through the excitement of their recent victory. He stepped forward, ready to confront this unexpected guest.

The young man blinked, disoriented from the sudden exposure to the outside world.

Archer's bluntness was as usual, unabashedly on display as he pointedly asked the kid, “Who the hell are you and what are you doing here?” The young man—green hair and all—replied, “Name’s Zoro. I’m a stowaway. Was hoping to hitch a ride with the merchants and maybe steal some sake, but I fell asleep.”

Rosinante shot Archer a pointed glare, noting with a smirk, “This cabbage-head reminds me of someone.”

Archer’s eyes widened in mock offense. “Hey! That’s slander and lies!”

Zoro, meanwhile, looked around the empty deck and asked, “So, where are the merchants and crew?”

Archer shrugged casually. “We stole the ship.”

Zoro didn’t seem phased by this revelation at all. Instead, he just sat down, placing his three swords beside him with a resigned thud.

Curiosity piqued, Archer leaned closer and asked, “So, why three swords? Compensating for something?”

The question earned him a swift slap on the back of the head from Rosinante, who muttered, “Seriously, Archer?”

Zoro raised an eyebrow but otherwise remained unfazed, clearly used to bizarre questions from strange individuals.

Chapter Text

It turned out that Zoro was surprisingly easy to travel with, not that Archer had expected much from a cabbage-headed swordsman who stumbled onto their stolen ship by accident. But there was something about the kid’s straightforward nature that made the days pass without much hassle.

Turns out the green-haired teen was a bounty hunter of all things, roaming around looking for targets. Archer initially raised an eyebrow at that revelation, figuring it might cause problems. But even Zoro himself knew he didn’t stand a chance against Archer or Rosinante, and after a few shared drinks and stories, he didn’t seem inclined to try anyway. Add the fact that the kid seemed to like them well enough, and that potential threat evaporated.

Zoro didn’t really know where he was or where he was going. He was looking for a guy named Mihawk, wanting to challenge him to become the best swordsman in the world. Archer had to admit, that was a noble goal. He liked that. Nothing wrong with a bit of ambition.

And boy, could the kid work. Zoro turned out to be a massive help on the ship. Archer and Rosinante quickly realized that a vessel this size actually needed more than just the two of them to run smoothly. The ship might’ve been theirs, but they weren’t exactly built for efficient crew management.

“Ugh,” Archer grumbled one evening as they sat around a table in the galley. “Looks like we actually need a real crew.”

Rosinante snorted, knowing how much Archer hated dealing with too many people. “How troublesome,” Archer muttered, but Zoro made it easier. The kid had stamina like no other and didn’t complain much. He could sail, fight, and didn’t mind doing grunt work. Archer figured they could use someone like him long-term, but Zoro had his own path to follow.

After about a week of travel together, the inevitable came: parting ways. They set Zoro off on a small island after docking to restock supplies. Before he left, they handed him a bag filled with food, coin, and a good stash of sake.

Zoro stood on the dock, waving at them. "Thanks. I’ll find Mihawk, and when I do, I’ll be the best.”

Archer grinned. “I don’t doubt it, cabbage-head.”

But as they turned the ship around to leave, they both noticed Zoro heading in the completely wrong direction—walking further from the town they’d just passed.

Archer and Rosinante exchanged glances, then shook their heads, grinning. “Kid’s got no sense of direction,” Rosinante sighed.

“None at all,” Archer chuckled, “but he’s got guts. I’ll give him that.”

Archer and Rosinante agreed it was time to pay a visit to the Baratie. Zeff had sailed the Grand Line in his youth, making him the perfect person to ask for advice on their journey. Plus, they both missed the food, which they considered the best in the world.

As they approached the floating restaurant, Archer couldn't help but grin, thinking about how much fun it would be to mess with Sanji. "Maybe that brat's finally started lifting weights," he muttered to Rosinante, who just chuckled in response.

When they docked and stepped onto the Baratie, Zeff was the first to spot them. The old man gave them a once-over and grunted, “Back for more, huh? Thought you'd both be dead by now.”

“Nice to see you too, old man,” Archer shot back with a smirk.

"Got some questions," Rosinante added, "and we're starving."

Zeff rolled his eyes but gestured for them to follow him inside. "You always are," he muttered.

The Baratie hadn’t changed much—still brimming with fantastic food, good company, and a guaranteed brawl to watch somewhere in the background. Archer and Rosinante followed Zeff to their usual table, where the old man plopped down with a heavy sigh. There was a weariness in his eyes, something that caught Rosinante's attention immediately.

"Everything okay?" Rosinante asked, his voice gentle but concerned.

Zeff rubbed his eyes in frustration, leaning back in his chair. “That little eggplant’s been causing me more headaches than ever,” he grunted. "Sanji’s been starting fights left and right over some girl. I swear, he's obsessed with women now. Every time a pretty one walks through the door, he does that damn noodle dance of his."

Archer nearly spat out his drink, already picturing Sanji flailing around like a lovesick fool. "Noodle dance? The hell is that?"

Zeff waved a hand in annoyance. "The way he bends and twists around when he sees a girl. It's getting fucking annoying."

Rosinante snorted, trying to stifle his laughter. "Puberty hit him like a ton of bricks, huh?"

"Puberty's got nothing to do with it. Kid’s just lost his damn mind," Zeff muttered, shaking his head.

Archer, leaning back in his chair, raised an eyebrow. "Why the hell’s the kid like that?" he asked, genuinely puzzled.

Zeff shrugged, clearly just as exasperated by the whole thing. "Sanji’s got it in his head that he’ll never hurt a woman, no matter what. Says it's his 'code' or some nonsense."

Archer grunted, unimpressed. "That's some of the stupidest shit I’ve ever heard. And trust me, I’ve heard some dumb things in my life. Like the time Ace tried to convince Luffy that if you boiled a leather boot long enough, it’d turn into edible porridge."

Rosinante chuckled at the memory, knowing exactly where this story was headed.

"Luckily," Archer continued, "it was Ace’s own boot that Luffy boiled. The kid actually tried to eat it. Dumb brats."

Zeff let out a rare laugh, the weariness momentarily lifting from his face. "Yeah, sounds about right. Boys always get ideas in their heads that don’t make a lick of sense."

Rosinante chimed in, still grinning. "Sanji must’ve inherited that from somewhere. You sure it’s not your fault, Zeff?"

Zeff gave a dry smile. "If I had my way, he’d be focusing on his cooking, not chasing skirts." He let out a sigh, slumping a little. "But there’s no stopping that eggplant once he’s made up his mind."

Archer stood up, brushing off his pants and giving Zeff a firm nod. "I’ll see if I can knock some sense into him. While I’m at it, Rosi can pick your brain on how we’re supposed to get into the Grand Line without getting ourselves killed."

Zeff, clearly relieved, nodded appreciatively. "You’d be doing me a favor."

Without wasting any time, Archer headed straight for the kitchen, pushing past the swinging doors like he owned the place. Inside, Paddy was chopping something at the counter when Archer walked in. “Hey, Paddy, where’s Oregano-boy hiding?”

Paddy’s face split into a wide grin, recognizing Archer’s usual nickname for Sanji. "He’s out on the deck, smoking his lungs out, as usual."

Archer grunted his thanks, but not before casually swiping a bottle of whiskey off the counter. Paddy just shook his head, laughing. "Still a thief at heart, I see!"

Archer flashed a grin back, waving the bottle as he made his way to the deck.

Archer spotted Sanji at the railing, a cigarette dangling from his lips, his blonde hair swaying in the breeze, and still wearing one of his signature suits. Never one for subtlety, Archer called out, "Oi, suitboy! Missed me?"

Sanji turned, his eyes lighting up the moment he saw Archer. A wide grin spread across his face as he nearly ran towards him, wrapping his arms around Archer in a quick hug. Archer, momentarily taken aback by the sudden affection, awkwardly patted Sanji's back before returning the hug. “Easy there, kid,” he muttered with a smirk.

Pulling away, Archer gestured for Sanji to follow. They walked a little way until they found a quiet spot on deck, away from the usual hustle and noise of the Baratie. Archer plopped down on a crate, then looked at Sanji with a deadpan expression. “Gimme a cigarette.”

Sanji blinked, caught off guard by Archer’s uncharacteristic request, but complied. Pulling out his cigarette case, he handed one over.

Taking it, Archer lit the cigarette, inhaling deeply before staring at Sanji with the kind of blunt honesty he was known for. “So, suitboy, why the fuck are you acting like an idiot around every pretty skirt that walks in here?”

Sanji's mouth fell open, completely slack-jawed, clearly not expecting that. Archer, unfazed, popped open the whiskey he’d swiped earlier, took a long swig, and then handed the bottle over to Sanji, his eyes never leaving the young cook's face.

Sanji took the bottle hesitantly, still looking confused, before muttering, "W-what do you mean?"

Archer just sighed, exhaling a puff of smoke. “You know what I mean Sanji.”

Archer took another drag of his cigarette and continued, his tone blunt but not unkind. "Look, liking women, admiring their beauty—that's all fine. Not that I get it, mind you," he added with a shrug, "since I'm one hundred percent gay and the only one I've ever been with is Rosinante. But there's no reason to make a damn fool of yourself every time one walks by."

Sanji was still staring at Archer with wide eyes, clearly not expecting this conversation to take such a turn.

Archer leaned in slightly, tapping the ash from his cigarette. "And all that noodle-dance stuff? Completely unnecessary. If a girl likes you, she'll like you for who you are, not because you're falling all over yourself to impress her. You’re already a good-looking kid, got talent in the kitchen, and you’re loyal as hell. That’s what counts."

Sanji, still holding the bottle of whiskey, blinked a few times, processing Archer's words. “But... I just—”

Archer cut him off. "Look, Sanji, what I'm saying is, stop acting like a clown. You’re better than that. Show some confidence, act like yourself. If a girl’s interested, she’ll see it. And if she’s not, no amount of dancing around like a damn idiot is gonna change that." He paused, then smirked. "Trust me, I’ve been around long enough to know that trying too hard just gets you laughed at. Let the girl come to you."

Sanji sat there in stunned silence for a moment, the usual bravado he carried when talking about women seemingly stripped away.

Then Sanji started to talk Archer hadn’t expected that to come out of the conversation, but he kept his cool. When Sanji whispered his confession about seeing him and Rosinante making love that night a few years ago, Archer’s face flushed a little. He remembered the night vividly, mostly because they’d forgotten to close the damn door.

Archer rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly before responding with a long, drawn-out, "Aaaannnnd?" He didn't expect that kind of reaction from Sanji, but he wanted the boy to keep talking, to get it off his chest.

Sanji, looking embarrassed, whispered even more softly, "Since then... I wasn’t sure if I really liked girls. So I tried to force myself to... you know, be normal. That’s why I’ve been acting the way I have."

Stunned, Archer blinked, trying to wrap his head around it. He put a firm hand on Sanji’s shoulder, smiling at him. “Kid, there’s nothing wrong with being gay. It doesn’t make you any less of a man. You think me or Rosinante aren’t manly because of who we love?”

Sanji shook his head vehemently, his face red from embarrassment. “No! Of course not. You two... you’re the toughest people I know.”

Archer grinned, ruffling Sanji’s hair like he was still a kid. “Then why the hell would it be any different for you? Look, forcing yourself to be something you’re not, that’s what’s messing with your head. You gotta figure out who you are, not what you think you’re supposed to be.”

Sanji blushed even deeper, but he was smiling, clearly relieved. “I don’t know, it’s just... confusing.”

“I get that,” Archer said, leaning back and taking another sip from the whiskey bottle. “But trying to fake it, that’s not gonna help. Be yourself, Oregano-boy. Hell, you’re already a good kid. Just stop with the act. And one more thing.” Archer leaned in closer, smirking. “If I ever hear about you getting your ass handed to you by some woman and refusing to fight back just because she’s got tits, I’ll whoop your ass myself. Just ‘cause someone’s a woman doesn’t make them harmless. You fight back when you have to, no matter who it is.”

Sanji blushed even more but nodded, a grin spreading across his face. “Got it. Thanks... Archer.”

Archer clapped him on the back. “No problem, kid. Now finish that whiskey and let’s head back before Rosinante and Zeff starts wondering what we’re plotting.”

As Archer and Sanji approached the restaurant, the sound of chaos filtered through the doors. Both stopped dead in their tracks as they caught sight of Rosinante and Zeff in the midst of beating up a group of pirates. It was an unexpected sight, even for Archer. Rosinante, looking fierce, was slamming a chair over some poor fool’s head, while Zeff, in true form, kicked away with that wooden leg of his, sending pirates flying with a hearty laugh.

Archer couldn’t help but lean toward Sanji, his voice low and teasing, “Look, isn’t he hot? And I ain’t talking about Zeff.”

Sanji, staring slack-jawed at the scene before him, could only nod. Archer burst out laughing, clapping the boy on the shoulder before running headfirst into the brawl.

The moment Archer joined, the whole fight seemed to shift gears. He barreled toward the thick of it, ending up side by side with Zeff, who was kicking a man straight into the wall. Without missing a beat, Archer yelled over the noise, “Oi! Who the hell are we fighting, and why?”

Zeff, never one to stop mid-fight, grunted as he sent another pirate flying. “Slavers! Came in here thinking they could take some of my workers. Not on my watch.”

Archer grinned, his face lit up with excitement as he headbutted a particularly burly slaver into submission. "Good reason to break some bones then!" he shouted back, right before stabbing another pirate with a fork he'd grabbed off a nearby table.

At that moment, Zeff glanced over as Sanji was kicking four men at once, showing some serious finesse. “Archer, you talk to Eggplant about what the hell his problem is?”

Archer, still laughing like a madman, yelled back, “Oh yeah, case of gay panic!”

Zeff snorted, grinning through his gruff expression. “Thought as much. Paddy owes me 1,000 berries.”

Archer cackled at that, the sheer absurdity of the moment hitting him. Between headbutting, stabbing, and watching Rosinante utterly destroy a pirate with the broken remnants of a chair, he had to admit—this was turning out to be one hell of a good day.

Later, after they had dealt with the slavers by tossing them overboard, Archer, Rosinante, Zeff, Sanji, and a few of the cooks ventured onto the slavers' ship. Archer, being the first to step aboard, took a deep breath. The ship stank of filth and neglect. Behind him, he could hear Rosinante’s voice, soft and reassuring, whispering to Sanji, "It’s going to be okay. If there are people here, we’ll save them."

That made Archer smile, albeit briefly. He loved that about Rosinante—no matter the madness or violence around him, he always had a gentle heart for the helpless. His "gentle giant." But as they made their way deeper into the ship, the atmosphere darkened. The stench grew stronger, and the once-soft smile on Archer's face faded quickly.

In the brig, they found four people chained to the walls. Malnourished, beaten, and barely conscious. Archer’s heart clenched, and without hesitation, he sprang into action. He pulled out his lockpicking set, the one he’d carried with him since his early days, and began working on the chains with lightning speed. His fingers moved deftly, expertly, freeing the prisoners one by one.

"Hold on," Archer said gently, his tone far softer than his usual bluntness, “We’ll get you out of here.”

Archer rubbed his eyes, feeling the exhaustion of their recent ordeal. It had been quite the effort saving the prisoners—three men and a woman—who had been kidnapped from all corners of the Blues. There was the usual drama, but in the end, they'd managed to rescue them.

Two of the men were shipwrights from a village named Syrup Village, which Archer was pretty sure was a place with a name that sounded like a breakfast treat. The woman, named Raya, had been a prostitute who was snatched from a brothel. Archer thought that was a hell of a way to end up on a slaver ship, but he wasn’t going to question the cruelty of the world. And then there was Giles, the fishman who looked like he had seen better days and who had once been part of the Arlong Pirates but had left because their methods were too “unsavory.” Really? A fishman with morals?

Rosinante, ever the soft touch, was all about helping them get home. Archer couldn't really blame him; it was kind of their thing to help those in need, even if it did come with its share of complications. So, of course, Archer agreed. The two shipwrights were so overwhelmed with gratitude that they actually started crying. Archer exchanged a glance with Rosinante, who just shrugged and smiled.

Raya and Giles, on the other hand, had different plans. They didn’t want to go back. Instead, they asked if they could join Archer and Rosinante. Raya, with her background as a doctor and her knack for daggers and stealth, seemed like a valuable addition. Giles was skilled in Fishman Karate and navigation, which meant he would come in handy. Archer had to stifle a laugh when Giles introduced himself; “Giles” sounded like an weird name for a fishman. But he wasn’t about to argue with a fishman who could probably snap him in half.

Archer sighed. “Why not?” he said, shrugging. “We need a crew anyway. And if they don’t have anywhere else to go, it’s not like we can turn them away. Plus, we’ve got enough room on the ship.”

The group said their goodbyes to Zeff, who was still grinning from the earlier excitement, and Sanji, who looked thoughtful but didn’t say much. Sanji had seemed oddly quiet after their talk, but Archer figured that was a good thing.

The journey to Syrup Village turned out to be more eventful than expected. Archer and Rosinante took the time to get to know their new crew members, and it was quickly apparent that each had their own quirks and stories.

Raya, for one, was a walking contradiction. At 25, she was an accomplished doctor with a past that could only be described as colorful. Her black hair and striking purple eyes made her stand out, but it was her devil fruit, the Nioi Nioi No Mi fruit that truly made her unique. The fruit granted her an enchanted smell, which, as she put it, was “more of a blessing than a curse.” Archer had to agree. Raya had a way of making the air around her smell oddly comforting, even if it was tinged with the unmistakable scent of alcohol.

“Nothing like a good drink to make the day better,” Raya would often say, a half-empty bottle of rum always within arm’s reach. It was clear that her fondness for alcohol was both a comfort and a coping mechanism.

Archer, not one to judge, found her amusing. “So, Raya,” he said one evening as they sat around the deck, “what’s the deal with this enchanted smell of yours? Does it come with any special perks, or is it just for making us all smell good?”

Raya grinned, taking a swig from her bottle. “It’s not just about making things smell nice. It’s actually pretty useful. I can mask the scent of blood or any other unpleasant odors, which helps when you’re working in the medical field. Plus, it’s a handy way to avoid unwanted attention.”

Archer nodded thoughtfully. “So, basically, you can make us all smell like roses, or in your case, like a well-aged sake barrel.”

Raya laughed, “Pretty much. It’s better than the alternative. Trust me.”

Giles, on the other hand, was a different kind of character. He was a fishman, with a physique that was a strange blend of human and shark. His skills in Fishman Karate and navigation were impressive, but it was his singing that really caught Archer’s attention. Giles could belt out a tune with such passion that it was impossible not to be captivated.

One evening, as the sun set and the sky turned a brilliant orange, Giles started singing a sea shanty. His deep, melodic voice resonated across the deck, and even Rosinante couldn’t help but stop what he was doing to listen. Archer leaned against the railing, enjoying the performance.

“Not bad, Giles,” Archer called out. “You know, you could be making a fortune as a bard somewhere.”

Giles chuckled, his sharp teeth gleaming in the fading light. “I like being out here on the sea. Singing’s just a way to pass the time and keep morale up.”

Archer raised an eyebrow. “Anything else?”

Giles nodded enthusiastically. “Oh, yes. I love reading. It’s a great way to learn about different cultures and histories. Plus, it keeps me from getting too bored.”

Rosinante, who had been quietly observing, joined in. “What kind of books do you prefer, Giles?”

“Everything,” Giles said, smiling. “But I have a particular fondness for tales of adventure and heroism. They remind me of why I set out to sea in the first place.”

Grinning Archer clapped Giles on the back.

Chapter Text

As they sailed into Syrup Village’s port, Archer found himself leaning on the railing, watching the bustling activity below. The sight of all the ships docked in the harbor, swaying lazily in the calm waters, was actually pretty impressive. Even he had to admit that.

“Not bad,” he muttered under his breath, arms crossed. For a village out in the East Blue, they sure had a lot of traffic.

Behind him, the two shipwrights whooped in excitement, clearly thrilled to be back home. Archer smiled slightly as he watched them practically bounce off the ship the second the gangplank was down. "They're like kids on sugar," he thought, but he couldn't blame them. It had been a long and horrible ordeal for them, and now they were home—where they belonged.

It didn’t take long for the shipwrights to gather their families, who greeted Archer and Rosinante with open arms. Archer, to his absolute horror, found himself in the midst of hugs from complete strangers. “What the—? Hey, I didn’t sign up for this!” he grumbled, stiff as a board as a particularly enthusiastic woman wrapped her arms around him in a bone-crushing hug.

Rosinante, of course, just chuckled, patting Archer on the back as he graciously accepted the warm welcomes. “Get used to it lov” Rosinante whispered with a teasing smile.

“Bah, I’m not a damn teddy bear,” Archer hissed under his breath, but deep down, he was a little touched by the warmth of the villagers. After all, it meant the shipwrights were truly safe now.

Raya and Giles had also disembarked, clearly enjoying the feel of solid ground under their feet. Archer could see Raya practically skipping toward the marketplace, and Giles, despite his intimidating appearance, looked rather content as he gazed around the village. Rosinante slipped them some money, insisting they buy themselves some new clothes and anything else they might need. The slavers hadn’t exactly been generous with their wardrobe or provisions.

“Just make sure she doesn’t spend it all on rum!” Archer yelled at Giles as the pair walked off.

Giles just laughed, a deep, rumbling sound, while Raya flipped Archer off over her shoulder without even breaking her stride. Archer huffed but couldn’t help the smirk tugging at his lips. She reminded him of a much scrappier, more cynical version of himself.

Rosinante nudged Archer with his elbow. “Come on, let’s get out of here for a bit,” he said with a grin. “I know just the place.”

“About time,” Archer muttered. “If I have to get hugged one more time, I might just throw myself overboard.” He wasn’t serious—probably—but Rosi laughed and dragged him off toward the nearest tavern. They deserved some time alone, anyway.

The tavern was small, cozy, and exactly what Archer needed after all the excitement of rescuing prisoners and being forced into group hugs. As they sat down, mugs of cold beer were placed in front of them, and Archer immediately took a long, satisfying sip. “Finally,” he sighed, leaning back in his chair. “Some peace.”

Rosinante set the folded map Zeff had given him down on the table between them. “Alright, let’s talk about the Reverse Mountain,” he said, a bit more seriously now. “We’re heading for the Grand Line, and this is our ticket in.”

Archer peered at the map with a frown. Zeff had gone out of his way to mark every possible hazard, from the wild currents to the towering cliffs. “It’s like he thinks we’re incapable of following basic directions,” Archer grumbled, downing more of his beer.

Rosinante laughed. “You did fall asleep at the helm more than once, you know.”

“Hey, I didn’t hear you volunteering to steer,” Archer shot back, though there was no real heat in his voice. He glanced over the map again, tracing the path up the mountain with his finger. “So, we follow this current here, hit this point, and then…” His eyes narrowed. “Oh, and look, it’s a damn straight drop into the Grand Line. Wonderful.”

Rosinante nodded, taking a sip from his mug. “Zeff said the currents would carry us through, but we’ll need to be precise. It’s risky, but it’s the only way in unless we want to take a really long detour.”

“Which we don’t,” Archer added quickly. He wasn’t interested in wasting time when Law was still out there somewhere.

The tavern door flew open with a crash, and a young man, panting and wild-eyed, stumbled in, yelling at the top of his lungs, “Pirates are attacking the village! Everyone, get ready!”

Archer looked up mid-swig, his eyebrows shooting to his hairline. He blinked at the kid, who had a rather… impressive nose, yelling like his life depended on it. Archer waited for the inevitable panic to follow, for villagers to scramble and grab weapons. Except... nothing. No one in the tavern so much as flinched. In fact, most of the patrons didn’t even bother to look up from their drinks. One older man just snorted loudly into his mug.

“What the hell?” Archer muttered, glancing at Rosinante, who looked equally confused.

The young man—whom Archer had now identified as “Usopp” after hearing the older man call him by name—stood there, his chest heaving as he waited for a reaction. When none came, his shoulders sagged, and the desperation in his face was quickly replaced with something that looked like practiced disappointment.

"Get outta here, boy!" the older man at the bar yelled, waving a hand dismissively. "Ain't nobody listening to your tall tales today. Go play pirate somewhere else!"

Usopp’s face fell, his once bright eyes dulling as he slowly turned toward the door. His steps were heavy, as if the weight of years of being ignored clung to his back like a burden he couldn't shake off. He muttered something under his breath, then walked out into the street, leaving the tavern as silent and indifferent as when he had entered.

Archer and Rosinante sat there, mouths slightly open, completely speechless.

“Did... Did I miss something?” Archer finally asked, breaking the silence. “Or did a kid just yell about a pirate attack, and nobody cared?”

Rosinante’s eyes were narrowed, and there was an unmistakable fire behind them. Without saying a word, he stood up, his towering frame casting a long shadow as he approached the older man at the bar.

“Hey,” Rosinante called out, his voice dangerously low, “what’s your problem with the kid?”

The older man didn’t even turn around at first, just waved him off. “Ain’t no problem. Kid’s a liar. Always spoutin’ nonsense about pirates and his big-shot father. Ain’t no one gonna take him seriously. Been tellin’ tall tales since his mom passed.”

Rosinante’s jaw clenched. Without warning, he grabbed the man by the collar of his shirt and lifted him clear off his stool. The tavern fell silent as the patrons finally looked up, their eyes widening as they saw the normally quiet and goofy Rosinante radiating fury.

“You don’t talk about a kid like that,” Rosinante growled, his voice dangerously calm.

Before the man could protest, Rosinante, with zero effort, hurled him toward the tavern door. The man crashed through it, landing in the dirt outside with a loud grunt. He didn’t get back up.

Archer, still happily sipping on his beer—correction, their beer since he had snagged Rosinante’s mug too—grinned over the rim. “Man, I love you,” he muttered, more to himself than anyone else. There was something ridiculously hot about watching his fiancé toss jerks through doors like it was nothing.

Archer’s brain worked faster than usual when the realization hit him like a bolt of lightning.

“Wait… Yasopp?” he whispered to himself, eyes wide with the sudden revelation. Holy hell. Usopp—that kid—was the shithead Yasopp’s son. What were the odds?

A mix of disbelief and exasperation washed over him. “Of course it’s him,” he muttered, rubbing his temples. It all made sense now. The long nose, the wild stories, the kid’s enthusiasm for being a pirate despite being completely ignored by his village. He was cut from the same cloth as his deadbeat father, Yasopp, who Archer couldn’t stand for a multitude of reasons.

With a heavy sigh, Archer downed the rest of Rosinante’s beer—hey, it was practically a habit by now—before walking over to his partner, who was still eyeing the unconscious older man on the ground like he wasn’t done with him yet.

“Oi, Rosi,” Archer hissed, tugging on his sleeve to pull him away. “Quit standing there like you’re about to finish him off. I need to talk to you.”

Rosinante, his face still brimming with barely contained anger, raised an eyebrow. “What is it?”

Archer lowered his voice, leaning in. “That kid—Usopp—he’s Yasopp’s son.”

Rosinante blinked, processing the information, then frowned in confusion. “Yasopp? As in... that Yasopp?”

Archer nodded, clearly still irritated by the whole situation. “Yeah. Him. I’d recognize that bastard’s kid anywhere. What are the odds we’d run into him here?”

Rosinante’s shoulders slumped, the fire in his eyes dimming a little. “So, what now? You want to talk to him?”

Archer sighed, already feeling the weight of the inevitable conversation. “Yeah, we need to find him. Kid deserves better than being ignored by his whole damn village.”

Rosinante nodded, his expression softening. “Let’s go, then.”

They found Usopp sitting on a bench near the village market, his face drooped in a melancholic frown. He looked utterly dejected, kicking at the dirt in front of him. When Archer yelled out to him from across the street, the poor kid flinched, startled by the sudden noise.

“Oi, kid!” Archer called, his voice cutting through the quiet afternoon air. Usopp’s head snapped up, his eyes wide with surprise.

“What’s your father’s name?” Archer asked bluntly, crossing his arms as he approached.

Usopp blinked, looking between Archer and Rosinante, clearly confused but cautiously hopeful. “Uh, Yasopp,” he said, eyes brightening slightly. “Do you… do you know him?”

Archer rubbed his eyes with his thumb and forefinger, letting out a long groan. “Yeah… I know him.”

Usopp’s face lit up, practically glowing with excitement. “Really? You do? That’s amazing! My father’s a brave warrior of the sea! One day, I’m going to be just like him and join his crew—”

“Nope!” Archer cut him off with a hand in the air. “Sorry to burst your bubble, kid, but your father’s no ‘brave warrior.’ He’s a coward and an asshole, plain and simple.”

Usopp’s expression faltered, his excitement crumbling into confusion. “What… what do you mean?”

Archer took a deep breath, bracing himself for the blunt truth he was about to lay down. “Your father? He shot me in the shoulder once ‘cause I told him the truth. Told him he was a deadbeat father and a shit husband. Didn’t take kindly to that, apparently. Ended with Rosinante over here,” he jerked a thumb in his partner’s direction, “breaking his arm in four places.”

Rosinante cleared his throat and gave a small wave, looking a little sheepish. “It was three, actually… But yeah, still.”

Usopp’s eyes went wide as he processed everything, staring at Archer and Rosinante as if they had just flipped his world upside down. The reality of his father being less than heroic, a deadbeat who abandoned his family, was clearly something Usopp had never fully considered.

Archer sighed, noticing the kid’s shock. “Look, I’m not trying to crush your dreams here. But you deserve to know the truth, kid. You don’t need to be anything like Yasopp to be great. You’ve got potential, but not if you’re chasing some imaginary version of your father.”

Usopp sat there in silence, his face slowly shifting from disbelief to something more thoughtful. He still looked shaken, but there was something new in his eyes—a hint of clarity.

Rosinante, ever the soft touch when it came to emotional moments, placed a hand on Usopp’s shoulder. “We’re not saying you can’t be a brave warrior of the sea. Just… don’t think you need to follow in your father’s footsteps to do that. You can be your own kind of warrior.”

Usopp looked between the two men, clearly conflicted but slowly nodding, as if their words were beginning to sink in.

Archer, already tired of being the emotional support for one day, ruffled the kid’s hair with a sigh.

Archer smirked, seeing the glimmer of curiosity mixed with uncertainty in Usopp’s eyes. "Hey, kid," he said, resting his hands on his hips, "you wanna see something cool?"

Usopp perked up, still shaken from their earlier conversation about his father, but eager to distract himself. “Uh, yeah! I mean… sure!”

Rosinante, ever the calm one, just smiled. He knew exactly where this was going and, as always, prepared for the inevitable. With a casual flick of his fingers, he activated his Calm-Calm Fruit, casting a soundproof field around them. He’d learned this little trick was essential whenever Archer decided to show off.

“Alright, hold on to your long nose, kid,” Archer said, his grin widening as his body began to shift.

Usopp watched in wide-eyed wonder as Archer morphed, his figure swelling and twisting until, before him, stood a massive bear, towering and rippling with muscle. The sheer presence of Archer in his bear form was enough to make Usopp’s knees wobble, but the boy stood his ground, eyes glued to the transformation.

And then, with a deep breath, Archer let out a roar—a thunderous, earth-shaking bellow that would’ve echoed across the entire island if not for Rosinante’s sound field. The force of the roar hit Usopp head-on, his legs shaking like leaves, but to his credit, he didn’t budge. His eyes were the size of dinner plates, but he remained rooted in place, his fists clenched tightly.

When the roar died down, Archer shifted back to his human form with a cracking of bones and a satisfied sigh. He clapped a hand on Usopp’s shoulder, grinning down at the stunned boy. "Well, look at you. Stood your ground! You’re already braver than your old man."

Usopp blinked, still trying to steady his breathing. "R-Really?!" he stammered, his voice a little shaky but filled with excitement.

Archer nodded, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Yup. Yasopp, your father? He shat himself when I did the same thing to him a few years back.”

Usopp’s jaw dropped. “Really?!” he asked again, this time in utter disbelief, though a smile was forming on his face. The idea that his father, this larger-than-life figure in his mind, had been scared senseless by Archer was too much for him to process.

Rosinante, standing nearby, facepalmed with a long, tired sigh. “Must you tell everyone that story, Archer?”

Archer just shrugged, grinning from ear to ear. “Hey, the kid deserved to know the truth.”

Usopp, now fully recovered, looked up at Archer with a newfound admiration. "Wow… that’s amazing! My dad, huh? I always thought he was invincible."

Archer leaned down, giving Usopp a light pat on the head. "Kid, nobody’s invincible. But you… you’ve got guts. More than he ever had, I’ll tell you that much."

Usopp beamed, his earlier sadness forgotten in the wake of this new, exciting revelation. He looked like he was ready to take on the world.

Archer and Rosinante exchanged amused glances when Usopp suddenly ran off, their hands naturally finding each other’s as they made their way back to the tavern. By the time they returned, Raya and Giles were already deep into their mugs of beer, and the lively chatter of the tavern made the place feel surprisingly cozy. Archer and Rosinante settled in beside their new crewmates, grabbing drinks of their own.

"Here’s to surviving slavers, strange villagers, and finally making it to the Grand Line," Archer toasted, raising his mug. Raya and Giles clinked their drinks with his, while Rosinante offered a small, fond smile.

The next morning, they made their way to the ship, fully expecting Usopp to be gone, but there he was, waiting by the dock, clutching something in his hands.

"Oi! What’re you doing up so early, kid?" Archer called out, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

Usopp grinned nervously, walking up to them with a cloth bundle. "I, uh, I wanted to give you guys something before you left," he said, blushing slightly as he held it out to Archer.

Archer raised an eyebrow but took the cloth and began to unfold it. Both he and Rosinante’s eyes widened as the fabric revealed itself: it was a pirate flag. A roaring bearhead, fierce and snarling, with a single star under its eye, emblazoned in black and white. The craftsmanship was simple, but there was something about it—something powerful, full of spirit.

Usopp’s face flushed a deeper red. "You can call yourselves the Roaring Pirates now," he said, rubbing the back of his head sheepishly. "And I figured, maybe you could name your ship the Silence? Y’know, since Mr. Rosinante can do that sound thing."

Archer and Rosinante were stunned. The sincerity in the boy’s gesture, the thought he had put into the flag and the ship’s name, hit them harder than they expected.

Without thinking, Archer pulled Usopp into a big bear hug, nearly squeezing the life out of the boy. "Damn, kid. This is… this is incredible!" Archer’s voice was thick with emotion.

Rosinante, who was rarely as physically affectionate as Archer, put a hand on Usopp’s shoulder and squeezed it gently. “Thank you,” he said quietly. "This means more than you know."

Usopp, flustered but clearly pleased, managed a grin. "You guys are welcome! I hope you’ll sail far and become the greatest pirates ever."

As they hoisted the flag onto their ship, the Silence looked more complete than it ever had. The roaring bearhead waved proudly in the wind as Archer, Rosinante, and the crew waved goodbye to Usopp, who stood on the dock, grinning and waving back until they were nothing but a speck on the horizon.

Leaning into Rosinante, Archer sighed contentedly. “Well, Rosi,” he said with a lazy grin, “guess we’re pirates now.”

Rosinante chuckled, his arm around Archer’s shoulders. "Took us long enough, didn’t it?"

Up in the crow’s nest, Raya was already making herself at home, her voice cutting through the morning air. "Giles! Bring me some rum, you lazy fishman!"

From the helm, Giles grinned and shook his head as he steered them toward the Reverse Mountain. "Get it yourself Woman!”

Archer snorted, leaning back and letting the wind blow through his hair. "Aye," he said, staring out at the open sea with a smirk. "Pirates we are."

Giggling like a kid who had just gotten away with something, Archer turned to Rosinante, his grin stretching from ear to ear. "Hey, Mr. Rosinante," he teased, voice dripping with playful sarcasm. "You know, the kid’s got it right. Must be because of your… advancing age, yeah?"

Rosinante paused, leveling Archer with a flat, unamused look. The corner of his mouth twitched like he was holding back a grin of his own. Without a word, he stepped closer and—before Archer could react—tossed him effortlessly over his shoulder like a sack of flour.

Archer let out a burst of laughter, half-surprised, half-delighted. "Oh no! What’re you—"

"I’ll show you old," Rosinante grumbled, though his tone was more amused than annoyed. His large hand gave a playful smack to Archer’s backside, causing the giggles to continue as he made his way toward their cabin.

"Giles, you’re in charge!" Rosinante called over his shoulder to their fishman crewmate, who chuckled knowingly from the helm.

Archer was still laughing uncontrollably as Rosinante kicked open the door to their cabin and slammed it shut behind them. Without another word, he dropped Archer onto their bed, the mattress bouncing under his weight.

Archer’s laughter finally subsided; a sly grin still plastered on his face as he looked up at Rosinante.

Rosinante crossed his arms and shook his head with a smirk. "Let’s see who’s old now."

Rosinante and Archer found themselves intertwined in a passionate embrace, their bodies moving as one on the small bunk in the cabin of the pirate ship.

The scent of sweat and sex filled the confined space, adding to the intense atmosphere. The ship gently rocked with the waves, creating a unique rhythm that seemed to match the pace of their lovemaking. Rosinante had Archer right where he wanted him. He held the younger man's wrists above his head with a firm grip, pinning him to the mattress.

 Archer's lean, muscular body trembled beneath him, his golden eyes sparkling with lust and surrender. Rosinante's long, blond hair, damp with sweat, fell over his eyes, giving him a wild and untamed look. "Am I still old?" Rosinante whispered, his breath hot against Archer's ear. His deep voice, roughened by desire, sent shivers down Archer's spine.

 Rosinante's massive frame towered over Archer, his powerful muscles flexing with each deliberate thrust. Archer, usually so quick-tempered and feisty, was reduced to a quivering mess of pleasure. His cheeky demeanor had melted away, leaving him vulnerable and exposed. He moaned loudly, his voice echoing off the wooden walls of the cabin, as Rosinante's thick shaft plunged in and out of his body.

The sensation was overwhelming, each thrust hitting his sweet spot with pinpoint accuracy. "Oh, fuck, yes!" Archer cried out, his head tossing from side to side. "Harder, Rosinante, please!" Rosinante chuckled, a deep and throaty sound, as he obliged, driving his cock even deeper. He loved the way Archer responded to his touch, the way he begged for more. It was a dance they had performed many times before, but each time it felt like a new discovery, a fresh exploration of their mutual desire.

The bunk creaked with every powerful thrust, the sound blending with Archer's desperate pleas and moans. Rosinante's blue star tattoo, peeking out from beneath his sweaty hair, seemed to twinkle with every movement, as if it were a part of the erotic dance.

Archer's hands, still held captive above his head, clenched into fists as he struggled to find purchase, his fingers curling and uncurling in time with the rhythm of their bodies.

 His lean muscles stood out in sharp relief, glistening with a fine sheen of perspiration. "You feel so good, Archer," Rosinante growled, his voice hoarse with need. "So tight around me. I could fuck you forever." Archer's eyes rolled back in ecstasy as he surrendered to the sensations coursing through his body.

Rosinante's dominant nature and his skilled touch had pushed him to the brink of oblivion. He was putty in Rosinante's hands, his body responding to every command, every subtle change in pace and pressure. They moved together in perfect harmony, their bodies speaking a language of lust and desire.

The cabin grew hotter as their passion intensified, the air thick with the scent of sex and the sounds of their pleasure. As the tension coiled tighter within them, Archer's release began to build. He could feel it coiling in his balls, a hot, tightening sensation that begged for release. His cries became more desperate, his body arching off the bed, seeking that final, mind-shattering climax. "I'm gonna cum, Rosinante! Oh, fuck, I'm so close!" Archer shouted, his voice cracking with the effort of holding on.

Rosinante, sensing his lover's impending orgasm, quickened his pace, slamming into Archer with abandon. He wanted to drive him over the edge, to watch him shatter beneath him. "Cum for me, Archer," he commanded, his voice laced with authority. "Let go, love."

Archer's body tensed, every muscle straining as he reached the pinnacle of pleasure. "YES!" he screamed, his voice hoarse and raw.

His release surged through him, and he shot his hot load across the sweat-slicked skin of their chests, the white streaks contrasting with their tanned bodies. Rosinante felt Archer's inner muscles clench around his shaft, milking him as the younger man came.

It was too much for him to bear, and with a final, powerful thrust, he unleashed his own orgasm. He roared, his voice filling the cabin as he filled Archer's hole with his cum, their bodies connected in the most intimate way possible.

They collapsed in a sweaty, satisfied heap, still joined together. Rosinante gently released Archer's wrists, his fingers tenderly tracing the lines of his jaw as their breathing slowly returned to normal.

Rosinante then whispered to Archer “Still think I’m old?” Archer, smiled into the pillow and said no.

Chapter Text

Archer had always been a bravado-filled, fearless man—until the day they had to brave the Reverse Mountain. Looking back, it was a wonder he’d never considered this mountain as a source of fear. But that day, as they approached the looming, jagged silhouette against the sky, a gnawing sense of dread took root in his gut. He’d never admit it, of course, not even to Rosinante, but it was there, a quiet, persistent anxiety.

The ship, now proudly flying their new pirate flag—a roaring bearhead with a star under its eye—seemed so small against the mountain’s towering walls. Archer, standing at the helm, clenched the wheel with a white-knuckled grip. The wind howled like some ancient beast, and the waves crashed around them with a ferocity that made Archer’s stomach churn. He took a deep breath, trying to keep his composure as he cast a quick glance at Rosinante, who was casually leaning against the railing, as unperturbed as ever. That bastard knew.

“Archer!” Rosinante called out, his voice cutting through the wind, “We need to navigate through the middle pass. It’s the safest route, but we’ll need to time it just right.”

Archer nodded, though his jaw was clenched tight. He tried to focus on the map Zeff had given them, but it all felt like a blur. The idea of plowing through the mountain’s perilous channels was a far cry from the usual daring escapades he reveled in. This was a real test of nerves.

“Alright, let’s do this,” Archer said, trying to sound more confident than he felt. He turned to shout orders to the crew, but his voice wavered slightly. They were already moving into position, preparing for the tricky navigation ahead.

As the ship began its slow, deliberate approach into the Reverse Mountain’s throat, Archer’s heart raced. He could feel the ship’s hull shudder with each wave that crashed against it. He stole a glance at Rosinante again. His lover’s calm demeanor was infuriatingly comforting. Archer wished he could channel that same serenity, but the mere thought of the mountain swallowing them whole made him break into a cold sweat.

“Are you okay?” Rosinante asked, noticing the way Archer’s hands trembled. There was a glimmer of concern in his eyes that Archer tried to ignore.

“Never been better,” Archer lied, forcing a grin. “Just keep us on course, alright?”

Rosinante raised an eyebrow but said nothing. Instead, he took over the wheel for a moment, guiding the ship with practiced ease. Archer tried to steady his breathing as the ship lurched and bucked against the fierce currents.

The mountain seemed to loom over them, its peaks jagged and menacing. Archer could almost feel the weight of it bearing down on him. The roar of the sea seemed to drown out everything else, a relentless reminder of how small and insignificant they were in the face of nature’s raw power.

“Hang on!” Rosinante shouted, pulling Archer from his thoughts as the ship angled sharply to navigate a particularly treacherous passage. Archer’s grip tightened around the wheel, and he forced himself to focus on the task at hand.

As they approached the final stretch, Archer could see the faint glimmer of the Grand Line beyond the mountain’s mouth. It was a sight that filled him with a sense of bittersweet triumph. They had made it through, and they would be setting foot on new shores soon.

“Almost there,” Rosinante said, his voice steady and reassuring.

Archer let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. The ship surged forward, breaking free from the mountain’s grasp. They had done it. Archer allowed himself a moment of relief, but he knew he would never forget the sheer terror he’d felt during the crossing.

As they sailed into calmer waters, Archer turned to Rosinante, who was watching him with an unreadable expression. “Well, that was fun,” Archer said, forcing a chuckle.

Rosinante’s eyes twinkled with amusement. “You know, for someone who claims to be fearless, you sure had a tight grip on that wheel.”

Archer shot him a mock glare. “Let’s just say I had a healthy respect for the mountain.”

“Fair enough,” Rosinante said, placing a reassuring hand on Archer’s shoulder. “But don’t think I didn’t notice. You’re allowed to be scared; you know.”

Archer huffed, though a smile tugged at his lips. “Not a word to the crew.”

Rosinante grinned, squeezing Archer’s shoulder. “Your secret’s safe with me.”

The sound of the ship's creaking and the distant crash of waves against the hull were the only background noise as Archer gathered the crew for their first meeting in the Grand Line. The atmosphere was charged with anticipation and a bit of tension. Archer stood at the head of the table in the galley, Rosinante by his side, as the crew settled into their seats.

“Alright, everyone,” Archer began, his voice echoing off the wooden walls, “we’ve made it through the Reverse Mountain, and now we need to figure out our next move.”

Giles, lounging with a relaxed demeanor that only a seasoned navigator could manage, was the first to speak. “We need to start by mapping out our course. This place is a maze of islands and treacherous waters. I know these seas, but we need a solid plan.”

Raya, with her usual air of mischief and a bottle of rum in hand, leaned forward with a predatory glint in her eye. “I’ve been thinking. If we want to make sure Law hears about us, we need to make some noise. And I mean real noise.”

Archer raised an eyebrow. “Noise? Like what?”

Raya’s eyes sparkled with a wild idea. “We need to let everyone know we’re here. Start with raiding some Marine ships and bases. Make a splash. Get some good pictures of ourselves—maybe break into a few bounty offices. That way, if Law sees our faces, he might recognize Rosinante.”

Archer exchanged a surprised glance with Rosinante. “Raid Marine ships and bases? Extreme, I like it!”

Raya grinned, taking a long swig from her rum bottle. “Extreme, yes. But effective. And as an added bonus, I wouldn’t mind getting a bounty of my own. I’m the only one without one at the moment!”

The glint in Raya’s eyes made Archer shiver a bit. He squeezed Rosinante’s hand under the table, feeling a surge of gratitude for his sexuality. Women, he had come to realize, could be downright terrifying when they got an idea in their heads.

“Okay, okay,” Archer said, raising his hands in mock surrender. “We’ll go with your plan, Raya. But we need to be smart about it. We can’t just go in guns blazing without a strategy.”

Rosinante nodded in agreement. “We’ll need to gather information first. See where the Marines are most vulnerable and plan our attacks accordingly.”

Giles looked thoughtful. “And while we’re making noise, I’ll continue charting our course through the Grand Line. We’ll need to be careful of the sea kings and other dangers.”

The sun had barely risen when the crew docked at their first island stop. The island was a quaint little place, a stark contrast to the chaotic scenes Archer had witnessed on their journey so far. The crew disembarked, and the first thing they noticed was Raya, decked out in all-black attire, daggers at her hips, and her black hair braided tight. She looked every bit the part of a stealthy operative.

“Alright, you lot,” she said with a commanding tone as she prepared to leave. “Stay put and freshen up. We’re having a photo session when I get back.”

With that, she strutted off, leaving Archer, Rosinante, and Giles standing in a state of mild confusion. They exchanged glances, trying to figure out what exactly they were supposed to do.

Archer, ever the pragmatist, sighed and turned to Rosinante. “Well, looks like we’re on our own until she gets back. What’s your plan?”

Rosinante shrugged, a playful grin on his face. “I suppose I should get ready. If we’re going to have our pictures taken, I might as well look the part.”

He retreated to their cabin, only to reemerge moments later with a nostalgic flair. Rosinante was wearing his old red hat and had applied the trademark makeup he used during his time with his brother’s crew. Archer couldn’t help but smile.

“It’s like stepping back in time,” Archer said, admiring the transformation.

Rosinante adjusted his hat and gave Archer a wink. “Perhaps it’ll help Law recognize me. A little touch of the past might do the trick.”

Meanwhile, Archer decided to keep things simple. He gave his face a quick wash, just enough to freshen up without making a fuss. Giles, on the other hand, was adamant about not changing a thing.

“I’m fine as I am,” Giles declared with a casual shrug. “No need for any fancy stuff.”

Archer chuckled. “You’re not worried about how you look?”

Giles grinned. “Not at all. I’ll let my skills and my fishman charm speak for themselves.”

A few hours later Raya returned. But she wasn’t alone. Dragging a man bound with a rope behind her, she marched up the gangway with a look of satisfaction that could only be described as triumph mixed with mischief.

Archer, Rosinante, and Giles watched in stunned silence as Raya hauled the unfortunate man aboard. Archer’s jaw dropped, and he couldn’t help but burst into laughter. His laughter rang out, echoing across the deck as he took in the sight of the journalist—clearly bewildered and more than a little apprehensive.

“What in the world—?” Archer managed between bouts of laughter.

Raya, showing no sign of remorse, threw the man onto the deck. She crouched down beside him, her eyes glinting with a blend of menace and amusement. “Alright, here’s the deal,” she said firmly. “You’re going to take some pictures of us, write down a few notes about our personalities, and then you’ll report back to the nearest Marine headquarters. In return, we’ll burn down your competitor’s printing press.”

Archer’s laughter paused abruptly as he stared at her, wide-eyed. “Wait, what? Why are we involved in arson now? And why burn down his competitor’s press?”

Raya simply shrugged, her grin never faltering. “It’s a little extra incentive. Besides, it seemed like a fitting way to make sure he keeps his end of the bargain. And hey, it’s not every day you get to add ‘arsonist’ to your list of achievements.”

The journalist nodded vigorously, clearly eager to escape with his life. He immediately began taking headshots of the crew. He snapped pictures of Archer, Rosinante, Giles, and even Raya with an almost frenzied speed. Between photos, he scribbled notes furiously, trying to keep up with the whirlwind of events.

Archer watched him with a bemused expression. “So, we’re really doing this then? I suppose it’ll make for some interesting headlines.”

Raya, still grinning, watched as the journalist packed up his things. “Oh, absolutely. We’re making a statement. And who knows? Maybe it’ll even get back to Law. It’s a long shot, but it’s worth a try.”

With his task complete, the journalist wasted no time. He quickly untied himself and, after a hasty farewell, sprinted off the ship and down the dock, clearly relieved to be free from the clutches of the Roaring Pirates.

As the crew watched him disappear, Raya turned to Archer and Rosinante with a mischievous twinkle in her eye. “Now, pretty boy,” she said, pointing at Archer, “you and I have a date with some matches later. We need to get that fire started.”

It was late into the night when Archer and Raya finally returned from their latest escapade. The Silence was anchored off the coast, and Giles was stationed at the helm, ready to set sail as soon as they were back. Rosinante paced the deck with a barely concealed tension, his mind racing with worry. He wouldn’t admit it—oh no, not at all!—but the thought of Archer and Raya getting into trouble had him on edge.

As the gangway creaked and Archer and Raya came onboard, Giles greeted them with a relieved smile and a bottle of rum. Raya, looking both triumphant and disheveled, made a beeline for him and grabbed the bottle, uncorking it with a practiced twist. She took a long swig, her expression one of satisfied recklessness.

Archer, meanwhile, trudged over to Rosinante, looking like he’d had an entire day’s worth of adventures packed into a single evening. Covered in soot and smelling strongly of smoke, he was a far cry from the clean-cut pirate captain that Rosinante had last seen.

Rosinante’s eyes widened, a mix of concern and exasperation crossing his face. “What the hell happened?” he demanded, trying to keep his voice steady.

Archer’s response came in the form of a hearty laugh, which did little to alleviate Rosinante’s mounting anxiety. “Oh, you wouldn’t believe it!” Archer began, grinning from ear to ear. “We did set fire to the printing press, like planned. But then, the fire got out of control and spread to the local jail. The inmates took advantage of the chaos and started a full-blown riot!”

Rosinante’s eyes narrowed as he listened to Archer’s account. “And let me guess, you and Raya got caught up in the middle of it?”

Archer nodded enthusiastically, still chuckling. “Exactly! We got so wrapped up in the frenzy that I had to shift into my bear form just to escape. I had Raya on my back the whole time, and we made a pretty spectacular exit.”

Rosinante shook his head, his exasperation evident. He grabbed Archer’s arm and began leading him towards the cabin, his expression softening despite his frustration. “Alright, let’s get you cleaned up. You look like you’ve been through a war zone.”

Archer, still amused, followed Rosinante into their small bathroom. As Rosinante started running warm water, Archer leaned against the sink, looking at his lover with a playful twinkle in his eye.

Rosinante smirked as he grabbed a washcloth and started scrubbing the soot off Archer’s face. “I always knew you had a talent for causing chaos. Just didn’t expect you to be so… thorough about it.”

Archer’s grin widened. “Hey, I figured if we’re going to make a splash, we might as well do it big.”

As Rosinante cleaned the grime from Archer’s skin, he couldn’t help but shake his head with a mix of affection and exasperation. “You really do have a knack for turning the simplest plans into full-blown disasters.”

Archer laughed, pulling Rosinante into a quick, grateful kiss. “And you love me for it.”

Rosinante chuckled softly, his fingers lingering on Archer’s face as he continued to clean him up. “Yes, I suppose I do. Even if it means I spend half my time rescuing you from your own adventures.”

As the water washed away the last traces of soot, Rosinante let out a contented sigh, finishing up the cleaning process. Archer looked at him with a warm smile, grateful for his lover’s care and patience.

“I promise, no more arson or riots for a while,” Archer said, his voice sincere.

The night wrapped around them like a dark, comforting blanket as Archer and Rosinante settled into bed. Archer’s mind was a whirl of thoughts as he broached a topic he had been mulling over for a while.

“Rosi,” Archer began softly, his fingers tracing absent patterns on the bedspread, “are you worried about what your brother might do when he sees our bounty posters? Do you think he’ll come after you? Finish what he started all those years ago?”

Rosinante sighed deeply, running his hand through Archer’s hair with a tenderness that spoke volumes. “Of course I’m worried. But... for Law, I’m willing to take that risk. I can’t keep hiding forever.”

Archer’s voice was low but resolute. “If Doflamingo tries to harm a hair on your pretty head, I swear I’ll bite his remaining hand off.”

The room fell into a stunned silence. Rosinante’s hand stilled, and he sat up abruptly, eyes wide with shock. “Wait, what? Did you just say you bit his hand off?”

Archer, momentarily irritated by the sudden stop in Rosinante’s affectionate gesture, looked up with a puzzled frown. “Yeah, what about it?”

Rosinante’s expression was a mix of disbelief and confusion. “Did you actually bite off Doffys hand in that alleyway?”

Archer’s face flushed slightly as he tried to read Rosinante’s incredulous gaze. “Uh, yeah. I thought you knew. I mean, you were a bit busy dying at the time, but yes, I bit it off. Had no qualms about doing it then, and I’d do it again if necessary.”

Rosinante’s shock melted into a mix of relief and affection as he threw himself onto Archer, his voice filled with warmth and a hint of playful exasperation. “I love you so much, you know that? Even if you’re a crazy bastard.”

Archer chuckled, pulling Rosinante close. “I love you too, you old softie. And if you’re worried about Doflamingo, just remember—he’s no match for us.”

Rosinante smiled, his eyes softening as he nestled against Archer. “Thanks for being so... you. Even when you’re a pain in the ass.”

They both laughed, the sound mingling with the soft creak of the ship. Archer kissed Rosinante’s forehead, feeling a deep sense of peace settle over him.

Two weeks had passed since their escape from burning down the printing press, and Archer and his crew had taken a well-deserved break on a quiet island. The sun was shining, and the sea was calm. Archer was lounging on the beach, enjoying a rare moment of peace when he spotted a colossal ship docking nearby.

Shielding his eyes from the sun, Archer squinted at the imposing vessel. “What’s with all the overcompensation these days?” he mumbled to himself, shaking his head.

Giles, who had been enjoying a lazy nap in the sun, looked up and sighed. “That’s the Moby Dick, the flagship of Whitebeard himself.”

Archer’s head snapped around, eyes widening with curiosity and excitement. “Whitebeard? Really?” He then bellowed across the beach, “Rosi! Get your handsome butt over here!”

Rosinante, who had been enjoying a quiet moment of his own, bolted towards Archer at full speed. As he reached Archer, the latter shifted into his bear form, his roars echoing across the island with an intensity that made the very air vibrate.

From the deck of the Moby Dick, a cacophony of voices erupted in response to Archer’s roar. But amidst the confusion, one voice stood out, bellowing “DAD! PAPA!” with all the force of a freight train.

In a flash of fire and laughter, a figure leaped off the Moby Dick and soared through the air. Archer and Rosinante barely had time to react before they were tackled to the ground by a flurry of laughter and energy. Ace, grinning from ear to ear, had landed on top of them, his exuberant presence rolling them around in the sand.

For a few glorious moments, the three of them were a tangled mess of joy and laughter. Ace’s infectious laughter filled the air as he hugged them both tightly. Archer’s bear form shifted back, revealing his laughing face, while Rosinante’s eyes sparkled with tears of happiness.

Raya and Giles watched the scene unfold with wide eyes, unable to contain their astonishment.

As the laughter from the reunion subsided, Rosinante’s expression shifted from joy to a mock-serious glare. He looked at Ace with a playful yet reproachful smirk. “And just where have you been, young man? We’ve been waiting for you to drop us a line. We had to hear about you from Shanks of all people!”

Ace rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “I’ve been kinda busy, you know, running around and all. It slipped my mind, I guess.”

Archer, still seated on the sand, crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes at his son. The stern look was at odds with the smile tugging at his lips. “Busy, huh? And I suppose gallivanting the world doesn’t include writing home?”

Ace gulped, trying to muster his most charming grin. “Uh, well, you know how it is. Things get hectic when you’re sailing and—”

A loud voice boomed from the deck of the Moby Dick, cutting Ace off. “Who are these people, Ace?”

Archer and Rosinante turned their heads to see a towering figure standing at the edge of the ship, his presence commanding immediate respect. Whitebeard, the legendary pirate, was staring down at them with a curious and slightly amused expression.

Ace’s eyes widened slightly before he straightened up and waved enthusiastically. “Oh, right! I almost forgot! This is the big guy I was telling you about!”

He turned to Archer and Rosinante with a grin. “Dad, Papa, this is Whitebeard, the most feared pirate on the seas. Whitebeard, these are my parents, Archer and Rosinante.”

Archer and Rosinante stood, brushing sand from their clothes. Archer’s face broke into a broad grin, while Rosinante gave a polite nod. The two of them approached the edge of the Moby Dick where Whitebeard stood.

Whitebeard’s eyes twinkled with a mix of amusement and respect as he looked down at them. “So, you’re the ones who raised this troublemaker,” he rumbled, his voice a deep, rumbling force that seemed to vibrate through the very air.

Rosinante couldn’t help but chuckle, taking a step forward. “Yes, that would be us.”

Whitebeard’s expression softened slightly. “It’s good to meet the parents of the man who’s made quite a name for himself. You’ve done well, raising him to be such a strong and brave individual.”

Archer snorted mumbling “More like a brat”

Rosinante, still grinning, clapped his hands together. “Well, I suppose that’s one way to put it. He’s definitely made our lives more interesting. And clearly, he’s found himself in some formidable company.”

Whitebeard chuckled, his laughter echoing like distant thunder. “You could say that. He’s made quite an impression on this old man. And now, it seems like I’ve got a chance to meet his family.”

Chapter Text

Archer had been in his fair share of strange situations, but meeting Whitebeard—the Whitebeard—had to take the cake. The man was a living legend, almost larger than life itself, and yet here they were, walking aboard his ship as if it were any other day. Archer did his best to keep his cool, but it was hard not to feel the weight of the moment. Whitebeard’s presence was overwhelming, and not just because of his sheer size.

Still, Archer managed to keep his composure. His hand was firmly wrapped around Rosinante’s, who, despite being much taller than Archer, seemed smaller beside Whitebeard. It was comforting, in a way—holding onto Rosi made it easier to ground himself amidst the surreal experience.

The two of them followed Whitebeard into the galley of the Moby Dick, flanked by two of Whitebeard’s commanders. One had a mustache that could only be described as awesome—Vista, Archer remembered hearing his name before—and the other had a head that remarkably resembled a pineapple. That was Marco, the Phoenix, if Archer’s memory served him right.

The walk to the galley felt like it took hours, even though it was probably only a few minutes. Archer’s mind was spinning with questions, things he wanted to ask Whitebeard, things he needed to know. After all, there had been a legendary animosity between Whitebeard and Roger—the father of his son, Ace. And while Archer wasn’t one to dwell too much on the past, this felt important. He wanted answers. But for now, he’d play nice.

As they entered the galley, it was surprisingly quiet. Only the five of them sat at the large table—Archer, Rosinante, Whitebeard, Vista, and Marco. The rest of the crew had left them alone, perhaps sensing the importance of the meeting.

Whitebeard took his seat, his massive form dwarfing the chair beneath him. Archer and Rosinante settled in across from him, their hands still lightly linked under the table. There was a pause, the air thick with unspoken tension. Archer was about to say something—anything to break the silence—when Whitebeard spoke first.

“Portgas D. Archer,” the old man rumbled, his deep voice resonating through the room. “The Golden Terror, as they call you. And you, Rosinante—formerly of the Donquixote family.” His eyes flickered to Rosi with a hint of recognition. “The world knows both of your names.”

Archer raised an eyebrow, a small smirk pulling at his lips. He leaned back in his chair, trying to exude a relaxed confidence despite the fact that his heart was pounding. “Well, you know how it is,” he said, his voice casual. “You burn down a few ships, cause some chaos, and suddenly you’re the talk of the sea.”

Whitebeard let out a low chuckle, but there was a weight behind his eyes. “Indeed. But I know you didn’t come here just for a friendly visit. You’ve got questions.”

Archer’s smirk faltered for just a second, replaced by a more serious expression. He wasn’t going to lie. Not to someone like Whitebeard. “You’re right. I do have questions. About Ace, about Roger... and about you.”

The atmosphere in the room thickened as Archer's gaze narrowed on Whitebeard. He had heard the stories—the legendary animosity between Whitebeard and Roger, how the two men were rivals on the seas. And yet, here Ace was, proudly wearing Whitebeard’s mark on his back as one of his crew. It didn’t sit right with Archer, and his protective instincts were flaring up. His hand tightened around Rosinante’s beneath the table.

Archer leaned forward, his golden eyes glowing faintly with an intensity that could not be ignored. “I need to know,” Archer began, his voice low and firm. “Why did you take Ace in? With the history between you and Roger, should I be concerned? Should I fear some hidden motive?”

The glow in Archer's eyes intensified, reflecting his rising protectiveness over Ace. He wasn’t just asking as any man would about a friend—he was asking as Ace’s father. A father who had spent years raising and protecting his son from the dangers of the world.

Rosinante, sitting beside him, squeezed his hand as if to calm him down. But it didn’t stop the steady burn of suspicion in Archer’s heart. He didn’t care who Whitebeard was or the reputation he carried. His son’s safety came first.

Marco, who had been quietly observing, abruptly stood up, clearly bristling at the audacity of Archer's line of questioning. “Who the hell do you think you are, questioning Pops like that? After everything he’s done for Ace—” Marco’s words were cut short by a sudden shift in the room.

Archer’s head snapped toward Marco, his eyes glowing even more intensely, a predatory edge creeping into them. His teeth sharpened slightly, beginning to resemble fangs. “Sit down, Pineapple Head,” Archer growled, his voice low and dangerous. “This conversation doesn’t involve you.”

The menace in Archer’s voice was palpable, and Marco, despite being one of Whitebeard's most powerful commanders, felt a chill. For a split second, the room seemed to hang in the balance. Marco looked at Whitebeard, waiting for his signal, but the old man simply raised a hand, gesturing for Marco to sit. Reluctantly, Marco backed down, though he couldn’t hide the irritation on his face.

Whitebeard shifted his gaze back to Archer, his expression calm, though there was a deep understanding in his eyes. The great captain’s voice was steady as he spoke, addressing Archer directly.

“No one,” Whitebeard said slowly, “should be judged by the blood of their fathers.” His words carried weight, and Archer felt the sincerity behind them. “I took Ace in because I saw him for who he is, not for who his father was. He didn’t deserve the burden of Roger’s legacy, and I wanted to protect him. That’s all.”

Archer remained silent for a moment, his intense gaze fixed on Whitebeard, assessing him. There was no hint of deceit in the old man’s words, only the resolve of someone who truly cared for Ace. Slowly, Archer leaned back in his chair, though the tension in his body remained.

Rosinante, sensing the shift in the conversation, decided to step in. He gently took over, his voice softer but equally as resolute. “We’re grateful for that,” Rosinante said, nodding in appreciation. “We’ve spent our lives trying to protect Ace, and knowing you’ve looked out for him... it means more than you know.”

Whitebeard gave a slow nod, his massive frame seeming to relax slightly. “The stories about the two of you aren’t exaggerated,” Whitebeard remarked with a hint of admiration in his voice. “You’ve earned my respect as Ace’s fathers.”

Archer’s eyes flickered briefly with surprise at Whitebeard’s words. The fact that the man who called all his crew "sons" was acknowledging Archer and Rosinante as Ace’s real fathers—that wasn’t lost on him. Whitebeard was showing them respect in a way that few others had.

Archer exhaled quietly, the tension that had filled the room gradually easing. He shared a brief glance with Rosinante, silently communicating what words couldn’t. Whitebeard’s reassurance, along with the recognition of their role in Ace’s life, had been enough.

Still, Archer wasn’t the kind of man to let his guard down completely. He leaned forward slightly, looking Whitebeard directly in the eye. “I appreciate the respect, but make no mistake... if anything ever happens to Ace under your watch, we’ll be having another conversation.”

Whitebeard smiled, an understanding gleam in his eyes. “Fair enough, son. Fair enough.”

Whitebeard snapped his fingers, and Archer turned his attention to Vista, the king of all mustaches. The swordsman moved with practiced ease, pulling a handful of papers from a pouch and sliding them across the table toward Archer and Rosinante.

Archer’s eyes gleamed with interest as he picked up the stack. The moment he saw what they were, he couldn’t help but let out a mad crackle of laughter. Bounty posters. Their bounty posters.

His fingers gripped the edges of the paper, and he stared at the number beneath his face: 325,000,000 bellis. He let out another laugh, louder this time, the thrill of it surging through him. The picture they used was perfect. He had an intense stare, his eyes glowing just slightly, and his signature crooked smile made him look every bit the menace they thought he was.

“Hell, this is awesome,” Archer muttered, holding it up to Rosinante, who was already examining his own poster.

Rosinante’s poster had the same bounty as Archer’s: 325,000,000 bellis. In the picture, he was grinning widely, flashing a broad smile while holding up a peace sign with his fingers, completely at odds with the terrifying reputation that accompanied that kind of bounty. Archer snorted at the sight of it. Leave it to Rosinante to look so cheerful in a wanted poster.

“Look at that smile,” Archer teased, poking Rosinante in the ribs. “You’re practically begging them to come after you.”

Rosinante just chuckled, clearly pleased with how the picture turned out.

Next up was Raya’s bounty poster. Archer whistled when he saw it—100,000,000 bellis. For her first bounty, that was pretty impressive. Her picture was downright unsettling, though. She was grinning wickedly while licking her lips, looking like she was ready to gut anyone who crossed her path. It was an accurate portrayal of her no-nonsense, dangerous attitude, and Archer had to admire it.

“Not bad for a first-timer,” Archer mused, waving the poster in front of Rosinante. “She’ll love this.”

Finally, Giles’ poster came into view. 150,000,000 bellis. It was a solid number, especially for someone trying to lay low after ditching the Arlong Pirates. His picture, however, was the best part. Giles looked utterly grumpy, as though he had been forced to sit still for too long and was about to snap at whoever took the photo.

Archer burst into laughter, holding it up for Rosinante to see. “They nailed him. He always looks like that.”

Rosinante grinned, leaning over to take a closer look. “Yup. That’s our Giles.”

Archer leaned back in his chair, still chuckling to himself as he spread the posters out on the table. “So,” he said, looking up at Whitebeard, “I take it these are hot off the press? Or should I say, the press that wasn’t burned down?”

Whitebeard smirked at the jab, but it was clear that these bounties had been arranged to get the world’s attention.

Archer, still holding his poster, looked back at Rosinante. “Well, handsome, looks like we’re going to be real popular soon.”

As Whitebeard extended the invitation to join the beach party, Archer and Rosinante exchanged glances, nodding in unison. They'd been looking forward to spending more time with Ace before setting out again, and the prospect of a Whitebeard Pirates party on the beach sounded… well, hard to turn down. It wasn’t every day you partied with one of the most infamous pirate crews in the world.

As they followed Whitebeard toward the deck, Archer was already thinking about how much fun this could be. But his thoughts were interrupted when Marco suddenly pushed past them, almost knocking Archer into Vista.

Archer immediately frowned, his temper flaring. "Oi, pineapple head! What the hell crawled up your ass?" he snapped, eyes narrowing. He wasn’t one to shy away from confrontation, and Marco's constant attitude was getting on his nerves.

Vista, who had witnessed the whole thing, chuckled under his breath. “Marco’s fiercely loyal to Pops,” he explained calmly, his mustache twitching in amusement. “He doesn’t take kindly to anyone questioning him, even if it’s Ace’s family.”

Archer just shook his head, grumbling under his breath. “Loyalty’s one thing, but he’s acting like he’s overcompensating for something.” He shot a sideways glance at Marco, his annoyance barely contained.

Rosinante, as usual, squeezed Archer’s hand in a calming gesture, keeping his temper in check. “Let it go,” Rosinante whispered. “We’re here to enjoy the party, not get into a pissing contest.”

Archer sighed, taking a deep breath. “Fine, fine,” he muttered. “But if he shoves me again, I swear—”

“We’ll handle it,” Rosinante cut in smoothly with a grin, his calming presence always keeping things from escalating.

The party on the beach was in full swing, and Archer had to admit it was a blast. It was a rare treat to see his crew and the Whitebeard Pirates mingling so easily. Archer was enjoying himself, but he couldn’t shake the worry about Raya. The woman had a talent for causing chaos, and he hoped she wouldn’t end up setting anything on fire or kidnapping anyone during the festivities.

Fortunately, Giles was keeping a watchful eye on her, his grumpy demeanor making him a perfect counterbalance to Raya’s more unpredictable tendencies. Archer could see Giles every now and then casting concerned glances in Raya’s direction, which was reassuring. At least one member of their crew was in charge of preventing any potential disasters.

Meanwhile, Rosinante was deep in conversation with Whitebeard, discussing their search for Law. It was good to see Whitebeard promising to spread the word to his division commanders. Every bit of help mattered in their quest, and Archer was relieved to know that they might get some leads.

As Archer took a swig of his beer, Ace bounded over, excitement practically radiating off him. “Come on, old man!” Ace said, grabbing Archer’s hand. “Time to show these guys what you’ve got!”

Before Archer could protest, Ace was pulling him onto the makeshift dance floor. The music was lively, and Ace was already in the middle of a wild dance, calling Archer an old man as he did. Archer, never one to back down from a challenge, jumped on Ace and started tickling him. The two of them ended up in a tangled heap of laughter and limbs, much to the amusement of everyone around.

Rosinante, who had been watching with a bemused expression, finally had enough. With a shake of his head, he grabbed both Archer and Ace by the scruff of their shirts, pulling them apart. “You two are the pot and the kettle,” he scolded, trying to keep a straight face as Archer and Ace both stuck their tongues out at him.

The sight of Archer and Ace playfully squabbling while Rosinante looked on with mock exasperation had Whitebeard roaring with laughter. The old pirate's deep, booming laugh echoed across the beach, adding to the festive atmosphere.

Later in the night, the beach party had reached its peak, with most of the revelers blissfully intoxicated and dancing to the boisterous music. Archer had found a quiet spot away from the festivities, contentedly watching the scene unfold with a faint smile. He was relishing the rare moments of peace amidst the chaos of their travels.

His calm was abruptly shattered by the sight of a furious Ace storming toward him. Archer’s brow furrowed in confusion as Ace’s face contorted with rage. Before Archer could even open his mouth, Ace began to yell.

“Why did you have to question Whitebeard? Why do you always have to meddle?” Ace’s voice was a mix of frustration and anger.

Archer’s eyes widened in surprise. He hadn’t expected this confrontation, and it quickly became clear that Ace had heard about their private conversation. Archer raised an eyebrow, trying to keep his composure. “Why are you so worked up about it?” he asked, genuinely puzzled.

Ace’s rage only seemed to intensify. “I’m sick of being babied! You’re not my real dad. You’re just my uncle!” The words hit Archer like a physical blow. He felt a sharp pang in his chest, a deep and painful hurt that he struggled to mask. His eyes, however, remained hard and unreadable.

He took a deep breath, steadying himself. “Fine,” Archer said, his voice cold as ice. “If that’s how you feel, then so be it.”

Without waiting for a response, Archer turned on his heel and walked away, heading back toward the Silence. Each step felt heavy, the weight of Ace’s words pressing down on him. He could hear the faint sounds of the party growing more distant as he walked.

Ace, left standing by the shore, turned around to find Whitebeard watching him with a stern expression. The old pirate’s disappointment was palpable, and his voice carried the weight of his disapproval.

“Do you realize what you’ve just done?” Whitebeard’s voice rumbled with authority. “You’ve just disrespected the man who gave up everything for you. And for what? Because Marco felt sligthed?”

The words stung, but they were a truth Ace needed to hear. He stood there, the gravity of his actions sinking in, as the realization of his mistake began to settle over him.

Archer climbed up into the crow's nest, his movements sluggish and heavy with the weight of his emotions. He fumbled around for a moment before locating one of Raya's hidden bottles of rum. The familiar feel of the bottle in his hand was a small comfort, a distraction from the painful reality he was trying to escape.

He unscrewed the cap and took a long swig, the fiery liquid burning its way down his throat. He winced slightly at the sharp taste but took another gulp, trying to drown out the pain that had surged to the forefront of his mind. As the alcohol began to take effect, Archer felt the tears start to fall, unchecked and relentless.

Sitting alone in the crow's nest, surrounded by the vast expanse of the night sky, Archer allowed himself to cry freely. It had been years since he had cried like this, not since the devastating loss of Sabo. But the grief was fresh and raw, and the ache in his chest was nearly unbearable. The weight of Ace’s words and the sting of rejection were too much to bear alone.

In between swigs of rum, Archer’s mind drifted back to Rouge’s final days. He remembered her gentle voice, her words of wisdom amidst the pain. "Sorrow is the price one pays for love," she had told him, her voice soft and filled with a deep understanding. Archer had always admired her strength and the way she faced her own trials. Now, in the silence of the crow's nest, he found that her words rang true in a way he hadn't fully grasped before.

He took another swig, his hand trembling slightly. The alcohol did little to numb the pain but provided a fleeting sense of solace. He stared out at the stars, their distant light barely visible through his tear-blurred vision. Each twinkling star seemed to mock his suffering, a reminder of how small and insignificant he felt at that moment.

Archer thought about Ace, the boy he had loved more than life itself, and how he had tried so hard to be there for him, to be the father figure he needed. He thought about the joy Ace had brought into his life, and how that joy now seemed so distant. The pain of realizing that Ace saw him as only an uncle, and not the father he had hoped to be, was a wound that ran deep.

The rum bottle was now half-empty, and Archer’s sobs had quieted to soft, ragged breaths. He hugged his knees to his chest, trying to find some measure of comfort in the cold, hard wood of the crow's nest. The stars continued their silent vigil, and Archer, though far from finding peace, felt a small measure of release in the midst of his sorrow.

As the night wore on, Archer remained in the crow's nest, the rum bottle resting beside him. The alcohol had blurred his thoughts, but the ache in his heart remained sharp and clear. He knew that, even as he sought solace in the stars and the rum, the pain would not easily fade.

The morning sun was harsh, and Ace woke with a throbbing headache. The previous night's drunken haze was quickly replaced by a jarring reality as he was abruptly slammed against a tree by Rosinante.

Ace had never seen his papa so enraged before, not even when they had clashed over his reckless behavior. This was different, raw and intense. Ace’s heart pounded as he remembered the hurtful things he had said to his dad and the chilling final words Archer had left him with.

Rosinante's voice was cold, carrying a weight that made Ace shiver. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done? Do you understand what you’ve done to the man who gave up everything for you? His childhood, his youth, his innocence. Every scar on his body is from the times he risked his life to save you.”

Ace’s throat tightened, and tears began to blur his vision. He knew what he had done, and the regret was suffocating. “I’m sorry, Papa,” he said, his voice cracking. “I know I was wrong. I regret it so much.”

Rosinante’s face softened, but there was still sadness in his eyes. “Did your dad ever tell you what he went through during the first three years he searched for you? Did he ever share what happened to him?”

Ace shook his head, his heart sinking deeper with each passing moment.

Rosinante continued, his voice steady but heavy with sorrow. “He was hunted, almost killed, sold as a slave, and beaten. All this, and more, all to find you. He was just 11 years old.”

The weight of Rosinante’s words hit Ace like a ton of bricks. The realization that Archer had endured so much suffering and pain, all for the sake of finding him, was overwhelming. The guilt and shame were almost too much to bear.

Ace stood there, tears streaming down his face, grappling with the depth of his father’s sacrifices and the pain he had caused.

Rosinante’s anger remained palpable as he pressed Ace further. “Why the hell did you say those things? What in the world possessed you to act like that? That’s not how we raised you!”

Ace mumbled a response, barely audible, his voice cracking under the weight of Rosinante’s fury.

“Speak up!” Rosinante demanded, his voice cutting through the air.

Ace took a deep breath, struggling to find the right words. “Marco told me that dad had questioned Whitebeard about me, like he was trying to talk me down. It made me think… maybe dad was trying to undermine me with Whitebeard. I guess I was just... angry.”

Rosinante’s reaction was immediate and sharp. He burst out laughing, a sound that was more of a bitter exhale than genuine amusement. “You’re an idiot,” he said, shaking his head. “Marco’s a liar and a dead bird walking. Your dad wasn’t questioning Whitebeard about you. He was asking about Whitebeard’s rivalry with your birth father, Roger, and whether there was any hidden agenda behind Whitebeard’s actions. Nothing more than that.”

Ace’s face flushed with embarrassment as he processed his papas words. The misunderstanding, fueled by Marco’s misleading comments, had led him to lash out at his dad unjustly. The realization hit him hard, and he stood there, feeling the full weight of his mistakes and the consequences of his actions.

Rosinante's voice hardened once more as he continued, "So, what are you going to do about it little spark? How are you going to make this right?"

Rosinante, seeing Ace’s struggle, added quietly, “I found Archer passed out drunk in the Silence’s crow’s nest last night. His face was red from crying. He’s hurting, Ace. More than you can imagine.”

Ace’s eyes widened in shock and remorse. The realization of how deeply he had wounded his dad hit him like a tidal wave. He felt a mix of shame and desperation. “I—I didn’t know…” he stammered. “I didn’t know it was that bad.”

Rosinante’s expression softened slightly, but his tone remained firm. “You need to go to him. Apologize, make amends, and show him that you understand what you’ve done. It’s not going to be easy, but if you care about him at all, you need to make things right.”

Ace nodded, determination hardening his features. “I will. I need to fix this.”

He took off towards the Silence, his mind racing with how to approach Archer, make amends, and hopefully begin to repair the bond that had been fractured by his rash words and misplaced anger.

Archer was halfway through his shower when the cabin door burst open. Water dripped from his hair as he turned to see Ace standing there, looking uneasy. Archer's eyes, still red from the previous night, met Ace's with a mix of surprise and guarded emotion.

“What do you want?” Archer asked, his voice lacking the warmth it usually held. His mind was still reeling from the hurtful words Ace had thrown at him.

Ace, his voice trembling, began to speak rapidly. “I—I’m sorry. I didn’t mean what I said last night. Marco lied to me about you questioning Whitebeard. I was so stupid. I love you, and you’re my real dad. Please, don’t leave me.”

The words tumbled out in a rush, and Ace’s face was a blend of regret and fear. He looked as if he was on the verge of breaking down himself. Archer’s heart ached at the sight of his son’s remorse, but the wounds from last night’s confrontation were still fresh.

Archer took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. The pain of Ace's words had not entirely faded, but he could see the sincerity in his son’s eyes. He stepped out of the shower, water still dripping from his body as he faced Ace.

“Ace,” Archer started, his voice steadier but laced with lingering hurt. “What you said last night was incredibly painful. It wasn’t just the words; it was the fact that you doubted my love for you. I’ve sacrificed so much for you, and hearing you call me just an uncle… it cut deep.”

Ace’s eyes filled with tears as he took a step closer. “I know. I know. I was wrong. I was angry and confused, and I took it out on you. I’m sorry. I didn’t understand the full picture. I didn’t know how much you’ve been through for me.”

Ace's shoulders shook with his sobs, and Archer could see the pain and regret in his eyes.

Feeling a pang of empathy, Archer ran a hand through his wet hair, unsure of what to say. The words that came to his mind were ones Rouge had once told him, that he remebered last night, "Sorrow is the price one pays for love." He murmured them softly.

Ace, hearing the words, was overwhelmed.

Archer held out his arms so he could hug Ace, but Archer’s heart sank as he saw Ace shake his head, his initial reluctance to accept comfort from him. The hurt was palpable, and Archer’s feelings of being rejected were sharp and immediate. Just as Archer was about to walk away, Ace spoke up, his voice muffled by his tears.

"Dad, you're naked."

Archer blinked in confusion and looked down at himself, realizing with a jolt that Ace was right. He was still clad in only birthday suit, having rushed out of the shower. Embarrassed but trying to maintain some semblance of composure, Archer quickly grabbed a pair of pants from the nearby drawer and put them on.

As soon as he was decent, Ace’s arms were around him, pulling him into a tight hug. The warmth of his son's embrace melted away the last remnants of Archer’s hurt and embarrassment. Archer wrapped his arms around Ace, holding him close. He whispered softly, "I love you so much, Ace, and all I went though to find you? I would do it all again."

Ace clung to him tightly, his voice trembling but filled with sincerity. "You're the best dad in the world."

Archer’s heart swelled with emotion. He rested his chin on Ace’s head, his own eyes moist. "And you're the best son anyone could ask for, together with Luffy."

Outside the cabin, chaos was unfolding. Rosinante had cornered Marco and was beating the living shit out of him, showing no mercy. The sounds of the fight echoed across the beach, with Rosinante’s rage evident in every punch and kick. Raya and Giles, from the sidelines, were enthusiastically cheering on their captain, fully supporting Rosinante’s fury.

Whitebeard stood nearby, holding back his crew, a knowing look on his face. He understood why Rosinante was so enraged. Marco had been disrespectful, and Rosinante was not one to let that slide, especially not when it came to his family.

Rosinante’s anger was palpable. He grabbed Marco by the collar, glaring down at him with a fierce intensity. “You’re a small man, Marco,” he growled. “Trying to destroy a family out of misplaced pride and jealousy. You don’t know the half of what’s been sacrificed for this family.”

Marco, battered and bruised, could only wince and stare back at Rosinante. It was clear that he had underestimated the gravity of his actions and the strength of Rosinante. Big time.

As Archer and Ace made their way down to the beach, they saw Whitebeard’s crew packing up their things. Rosinante, Raya, and Giles were seated on the sand. Raya was busy tending to Rosinante’s hands, which were scraped and bruised from a fight.

Archer, still feeling a mix of relief and curiosity, asked, “What happened here?”

Rosinante looked up with a wry smile and said, “Caught a bird. It was tasty.”

As the time came to part ways, Rosinante and Archer embraced Ace with all the warmth and affection they could muster. Ace’s smile was tinged with sadness, but he understood the necessity of their departure.

Archer, his eyes lingering over Ace's shoulder, caught sight of Marco, battered and bruised, being tended to by Whitebeard’s crew. The smirk that spread across Archer's face, putting two and two together about what Rosi said about catching a bird.

With a final farewell, the Roaring Pirates set sail once more. As the island receded into the distance, Archer turned to Rosinante, pulling him into a tender kiss. "Besides the kids, you’re the best thing that ever happened to me," Archer murmured, his voice filled with genuine affection.

Rosinante responded with a loving kiss.

Chapter Text

One would think that having a Fishman as a helmsman would stop them from getting lost, right? Well, that wasn’t true. Despite Giles trying his best, they still ended up sailing in the wrong direction. Which, really, was a bitch. Especially since, at that very moment, Raya was screaming from the crow’s nest about an approaching Marine ship.

“Fucking fantastic,” Archer muttered, adjusting his jacket. “Giles! I thought you were supposed to keep us on course!”

Giles growled from the helm, his shark-like grin showing signs of frustration. “I’m trying, but the currents here are wild!”

Archer couldn’t help but roll his eyes. "Is that your excuse for everything?"

Raya slid down a rope, landing beside Archer. “I told you we were veering off course hours ago,” she said with a smug grin. “But no one listens to me.”

“Because you’re always drunk,” Archer shot back. “And—" He was cut off by the unmistakable sight of a Marine battleship closing in fast. The flag of the World Government whipped wildly in the wind.

“Well, shit,” Archer said with a smirk, feeling that familiar rush. “Guess it’s time to kick some ass.”

It had been over four months since they last saw Ace, and only one single letter had made it through from Luffy—or, more accurately, Makino. He wondered how his boys were faring, but right now, his focus was elsewhere. A Marine ship usually meant trouble, and Archer was more than happy to deliver some of his own.

It was not a regular Marine ship.

Just their damn luck. There was a fucking admiral on board. Archer could feel the weight of the situation immediately. Shitshitshit. Which one of the bastards was it? Before he could finish musing, Rosinante had picked him up and hurled him through the air at terrifying speed toward the Marine ship.

Grinning like a madman mid-flight, Archer shifted, his bones cracking and reshaping into something far more primal. By the time his feet—or rather, paws—hit the deck of the ship, the Marines were met with a giant 2000-pound, very angry grizzly bear staring them down, ready to tear through them like paper.

Before Archer could even let out a roar, something landed on his back. Raya, in all her glory, had been thrown right after him, her wild cackle cutting through the sounds of confusion. “Damn, I gotta admire Rosi's aim,” Archer thought, amused despite the chaos.

"Get moving!" Raya yelled, her daggers gleaming in the sun as she perched on Archer’s broad back like some deranged knight riding into battle. Her evil laughter was infectious as she slashed through the air, taking out any Marine that got too close.

Archer prowled forward, his massive paws hitting the deck with thundering weight, and Marines scrambled in fear. The sound of gunfire, the clanging of swords, and the panicked screams of men filled the air. Archer didn't stop, bulldozing through lines of Marines like they were nothing more than leaves in a storm.

With Raya’s blade-work in full force and Archer’s raw strength barreling through, the Marines didn’t stand a chance. Marines fell left and right, many barely able to comprehend the nightmare unfolding in front of them.

“More! More!” Raya shrieked, enjoying the chaos far too much.

But Archer's grin faded slightly as he sensed it—an overwhelming pressure from the other side of the deck. The air grew heavy, and that could only mean one thing.

The admiral had arrived.

Just their luck, right?

Archer squinted as the sunlight caught the flashy golden suit of the admiral standing before them. Really? A gold suit? How impractical. He couldn't help but snicker at the thought of the admiral accidentally blinding his own men with that ridiculous outfit. What an idiot. Flashy, but an idiot nonetheless.

Raya, still perched on his back like some feral queen, stiffened as her eyes locked onto the figure. Without even turning her head, she stabbed a Marine who had been stupid enough to get too close. “It’s Kizaru,” she whispered, her voice low and tense.

Archer snarled, looking closer. Sure enough, it was Kizaru. The admiral had that infuriatingly lazy demeanor about him, like he couldn’t be bothered with what was happening.

“Well, fuck,” Archer thought, his fur bristling with tension. But before he could make a move, Raya patted his shoulder, her face alight with mischief. “Don’t worry, big guy. I’ve got this.”

Without missing a beat, Raya unleashed her devil fruit powers. The air around them suddenly filled with the most putrid, foul stench Archer had ever encountered. It was like every terrible smell in the world had been concentrated into one. The Marines nearby gagged, some even collapsing to their knees, while Kizaru—still standing, but wrinkling his nose—was now marked by that overwhelming odor.

No matter how fast the flashy idiot was, they could smell him coming from a mile away.

With the last of the Marines down, thanks to Raya’s sickeningly effective devil fruit powers, Archer shifted back into his human form. He knew his bear form wouldn’t be quick enough against Kizaru's light-speed devil fruit. That bastard was fast, and Archer had no intention of getting caught off guard. But as Kizaru approached them, his voice cut through the chaos—slow, monotonous, and annoyingly calm.

“Portgas D. Archer, the Golden Terror, and... Raya the Witch,” Kizaru drawled, as if every word was a struggle for him to bother with. “You two have caused quite a stir... very troublesome... very......” His insults were as bland as his tone, an attempt to belittle them both as though they weren’t even worth his full attention.

Archer’s eye twitched, irritation flooding his system. How could anyone be this boring to listen to? It should’ve been a crime to speak like that—especially when facing off against someone as lively as him. Raya, still perched on his now human shoulders, didn’t seem any more impressed.

They exchanged a glance—one of those moments where no words were needed—and burst into laughter. Real, gut-busting laughter. Kizaru was standing there, attempting to insult them, and they couldn’t care less.

Archer wiped a tear from his eye, still chuckling. “Man, that’s the best you’ve got? You’re slower with your words than Giles are with steering our ship!”

Raya, snickering, added, “I’ve seen snails with more charisma. Honestly, it’s a wonder your men haven’t fallen asleep just listening to you.”

Kizaru raised an eyebrow, but his expression barely changed. His lazy demeanor remained, as if their mockery hadn’t even phased him. But Archer and Raya just kept laughing, the ridiculousness of it all fueling their spirits for what was sure to come next.

Out on the water, Raya spotted a familiar shape moving rapidly toward the ship. It was Giles, cutting through the water at an incredible speed, with Rosinante standing casually on his back as if they were out surfing for fun. Rosinante looked completely at ease, balancing effortlessly while Giles propelled them forward like a torpedo. Raya's foot tapped Archer’s side, giving him the signal that the rest of the crew was on their way.

Archer’s lips curled into a cocky grin. He decided to play along, buying time. “Well now,” he said in a slow, deliberate tone, “to what do we owe the honor of your flashy presence, Admiral?”

Kizaru barely blinked, his voice as droning as ever. “I was just wondering... where your not so better half might be hiding... and where’s your fish?”

That last remark hit a nerve, and Archer immediately sensed Raya bristling. Her jaw tightened, and the air around them grew tense. Nobody—nobody—called Giles just a fish. Her hand flexed over her daggers, ready to tear Kizaru a new one, but before she could even utter a word, a deep voice interrupted.

"Here," Rosinante's voice boomed directly behind Kizaru.

The Admiral’s body stiffened for the briefest second. Archer smirked wider. Oh, this was about to get fun.

Before Kizaru even had a chance to react, Rosinante slammed him into the deck with a force that sent cracks spiderwebbing through the wood. Archer couldn’t help but be momentarily awestruck—sometimes he forgot just how powerful his partner was. Watching Rosinante in action was always something else, a reminder of the strength lurking beneath that goofy, gentle exterior.

As Kizaru lay unconscious, Raya hopped down from Archer's shoulders, her boots making a dull thud as she approached the admiral’s prone form. Crouching down next to him, she began to chuckle darkly. Archer raised an eyebrow, already knowing where this was headed. Rosinante, always the voice of reason, called back over his shoulder, “Don’t kill him, Raya,” as he and Giles disappeared below deck to raid the ship.

Raya nodded absentmindedly, clearly more focused on her own brand of revenge. With a quick flick of her wrist, she carved a large "G" right into Kizaru’s forehead. “For Giles,” she muttered “Fish, huh?”

Archer sighed, shaking his head as he grabbed Raya by the arm and pulled her back. “Alright, that’s enough. We don’t need an Admiral with a grudge any worse than it already is.”

Raya let out an exaggerated sigh but didn’t resist as Archer tugged her away. “He’ll heal,” she said with a mischievous grin, wiping her blade clean.

"Yeah, but we won’t, if you keep going like that," Archer muttered with a smirk, his eyes already scanning the horizon to see if any backup was coming.

Archer, rubbing the back of his neck, called out to Giles. “Hey, get over here and slap some cuffs on this flashy bastard.”

Giles, still dripping wet from his swim, strolled over with a grin, pulling out a pair of sea stone cuffs from his belt. He was the only one on the crew without Devil Fruit powers, which made him the perfect candidate for handling situations like this. Without a word, he snapped the cuffs on the unconscious Kizaru, ensuring the admiral wouldn't be able to use his powers when he woke up.

Just then, Rosinante appeared with a large bag slung over his shoulder, grinning like a kid on Christmas morning. “You won’t believe what I found.” He reached into the bag and pulled out a strange orb-like object.

Archer raised an eyebrow. “What the hell is that?”

Rosinante’s grin widened. “It’s a log pose.”

Archer blinked, clearly lost. “A what now?”

Raya, not missing a beat, pinched Archer’s cheek and gave him a teasing smile. “You really are lucky you’re cute, you know that?”

Rosinante chuckled, shaking his head. “It’s for navigating the Grand Line, love. It’ll help us sail without getting lost.”

“Oh,” Archer mumbled, rubbing his cheek where Raya had pinched him. “Well, that’s useful.”

Without warning, Rosinante picked up Archer like he weighed nothing and, with a laugh, threw him back toward The Silence. Archer barely had time to register what was happening before landing with a grunt on the deck. Before he could even catch his breath, Raya let out a cackle as Rosinante did the same to her, tossing her through the air like a rag doll.

Archer rolled onto his back, groaning. “One of these days, he's gonna throw me straight into the ocean.”

Raya landed gracefully beside him, patting his head. “Then I guess you’ll have to learn how to swim again, won’t you?”

Later that night, the crew was in high spirits, celebrating their successful raid and the fact that they had gotten one over on an admiral, no less. Archer was sitting cross-legged on the deck, eagerly going through the giant sack of loot they had plundered from the marine ship.

“Gold… more gold… booze,” he muttered, as Raya snatched the bottle of rum from his hands, grinning like a fiend. “Books for Giles… more books for Giles… lube for me and Rosi—nice,” he smirked, tossing it aside. “Cigarettes for Rosi… maps…” His hand dug deeper into the bag before pulling out a battered Denden Mushi. “Huh,” he said, holding it up. “Now this is some useful shit!”

Like a kid with a shiny new toy, Archer scrambled to his feet and ran toward Rosinante, practically glowing with excitement. “Rosi! Rosi! Look what I found! We can call Makino and check in on Luffy!”

Rosinante, leaning casually against the railing, glanced at Archer and then the Denden Mushi in his hands. With an amused smile, he quickly ushered Archer toward their cabin. “Alright, alright, let’s make sure it works first,” he said, guiding Archer inside as the rest of the crew continued their celebrations.

Meanwhile, out on the deck, a very drunk Raya was slumped against the mast, bottle in one hand and a smutty novel in the other. She was reading aloud to Giles, who, with his nose buried in one of his newly acquired books, was pretending to listen.

“...and then, with a single glance, he undid her dress,” Raya slurred, flipping a page dramatically. “You listening, Giles? This is some quality storytelling right here!”

Giles, completely unfazed, flipped a page of his own book. “Mhm, riveting stuff,” he said flatly, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

Back in the cabin, Archer was fiddling with the Denden Mushi, finally getting the thing to work after a few false starts. The snail blinked lazily, its antennae twitching as the line connected. Archer’s grin stretched from ear to ear as Rosinante sat beside him, waiting for the familiar voice of Makino to pick up.

“C’mon, c’mon,” Archer muttered, bouncing slightly in anticipation. It had been too long since they had checked in on Luffy, and now that they had the chance, he wasn’t going to waste it.

Makino’s voice came through the Denden Mushi, groggy and clearly irritated. “Who the hell calls at this hour?”

Archer couldn’t help but grin. “It’s me and Rosi,” he said, leaning toward the snail like it would somehow make his excitement more palpable.

The sleepy tone in her voice vanished instantly. “Oh! Archer! Rosinante! It’s been a while,” she said, sounding much more awake now. Archer wasted no time.

“Hey, can we talk to Luffy? It’s been months!” Archer asked, his voice filled with anticipation. There was a pause on the other end, and the silence stretched on longer than it should have.

Rosinante, ever perceptive, leaned closer. “Makino? Where’s Luffy? Did something happen?” His voice held a note of concern.

Makino let out a soft sigh before speaking, her tone gentle but cautious. “Luffy… he left two months ago. In a little rowboat… with just a barrel of food.”

For a moment, the cabin fell silent. Then, Archer’s face twisted with disbelief as her words sank in. “He did what? That reckless little—! He’s out there alone? In a rowboat?” Archer's voice grew louder as he launched into a full-blown rant. “What the hell was he thinking? I swear, that kid's got a death wish! Rowboat? Barrel of food? How irresponsible can he be?!”

Rosinante, keeping his calm despite Archer’s tirade, took the Denden Mushi from him. “Thank you for telling us, Makino,” he said gently, his tone a stark contrast to Archer’s ongoing complaints in the background. “Take care of yourself, alright? We miss you.”

Makino’s smile could be heard in her voice. “I miss you both too. And don’t worry about Luffy. He’s going to be just fine. I’m sure of it.”

Rosinante nodded, even though she couldn’t see him. “We’ll be in touch. Stay safe.”

“Goodbye, Rosi. And tell Archer to breathe,” she added with a light chuckle before the line disconnected.

Rosinante set the snail down and glanced over at Archer, who was still pacing and muttering about Luffy’s terrible decision-making.

“Relax, love,” Rosinante said, leaning back with a sigh. “It’s Luffy. We both knew this day was coming.”

Archer groaned, rubbing his hands over his face. “Yeah, but two months? And in a rowboat? What’s wrong with him?”

Rosinante smiled softly, reaching out to pull Archer into a hug. “He’s chasing his dream. Just like you did.”

Archer let out a long sigh, melting into Rosinante’s embrace. “I know, but it’s still hard. He’s our son, Rosi.”

“I know,” Rosinante murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of Archer’s head. “We’ll find him again, Archer. He’s got his own journey, just like Ace.”

“Yeah,” Archer mumbled, calming down as Rosinante held him close. "Still gonna knock some sense into that thick skull when I see him."

The next day, Archer was still gloomy, pacing around the deck and muttering to himself about "reckless kids" and "rowboats." His grumbling had started at dawn and showed no signs of stopping. Giles, noticing Archer’s foul mood, approached Rosinante with a raised eyebrow.

“What’s wrong with blondie?” Giles asked, his voice filled with concern.

Rosinante chuckled, clearly amused by the situation. “Oh, it’s just Luffy,” he said, waving his hand dismissively. “That kid rowed off two months ago in some rickety little boat, and Archer’s been fuming ever since he found out last night, even in his sleep! I swear, it’s the longest rant he’s gone on since Ace once fell asleep mid-lecture.”

Giles grinned at the thought. “That’s something my older brother, Jinbei, used to do when we were kids. He’d rant for hours, and by the time he was finished, we’d all be passed out.”

Rosinante laughed, clapping Giles on the back. “I guess some things never change. Family is family, whether they’re human or fishman.”

Nearby, Raya stumbled out from below deck, looking like she’d barely survived the night. Her hair was a mess, and her clothes were rumpled, but she still managed to crack a smile at Archer’s expense.

“Mama bear's at it again, huh?” she mumbled, rubbing her eyes. “Can’t say I’m surprised. He’s always ready to pounce when it comes to his cubs.”

Rosinante nodded, his smile softening as he watched Archer pace back and forth, still muttering. “Yeah, he is. He cares so much. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone love their kids as fiercely as he does.”

“Tell me about it,” Raya added with a yawn. “Just glad I’m not in his crosshairs this time.”

Giles chuckled, folding his arms. “Maybe we should just let him rant until he wears himself out. Worked for Jinbei back in the day.”

Rosinante smirked. “Good plan. Let him blow off steam. Luffy will be fine, and once Archer realizes that, he’ll calm down.”

Together, the three of them shared a knowing glance, leaving Archer to pace and grumble in peace.

Archer suddenly stopped mid-step, his eyes wide and wild, as if some profound revelation had struck him. He stood there for a moment, frozen in place, and then, without warning, bolted below deck without uttering a single word.

Giles and Raya both stared after him, puzzled, while Rosinante sighed and rubbed his temples. “Here we go again,” he muttered under his breath, already suspecting Archer was on the verge of doing something either incredibly brilliant or downright ridiculous.

Rosinante glanced over at Giles and Raya, both of whom were still watching Archer’s retreat with varying levels of amusement and concern. “I’ll go make sure he doesn’t burn the ship down,” he said, standing up and stretching before following Archer below deck.

As he descended the stairs, Rosinante had a sinking feeling. Archer’s sudden moments of clarity could swing either way, and there was no telling what was going through his head this time. When Rosinante found him, Archer was rummaging through various supplies, looking more determined by the second.

“Love,” Rosinante began cautiously, leaning against the doorframe, “what exactly are you up to?”

Archer was muttering under his breath, furiously tossing things aside as he searched the cabin. "Where the hell is that goddamn Denden Mushi?" he growled, clearly losing patience.

Rosinante, leaning casually against the doorframe, finally cleared his throat and pulled the Denden Mushi from his pocket, holding it out. "Looking for this?"

Archer's eyes lit up as if he'd just found treasure, and without hesitation, he practically leaped at Rosinante, grabbing the snail out of his hands with such force it almost knocked Rosinante over. "Why didn’t you tell me you had it sooner?!" Archer grumbled, already dialing.

Rosinante raised an eyebrow, leaning back again as he watched his lover's antics. "Well, you didn’t ask, did you?" he said with a slight smirk, but Archer was already too engrossed in making the call to hear him.

As the Denden Mushi started ringing, Rosinante tilted his head. "So, uh… who exactly are you calling?"

Archer didn’t answer, his eyes focused intently on the snail as it continued to ring. Rosinante, curious but not entirely surprised by the randomness of the situation, stood back and waited.

From the other end of the line, the Denden Mushi crackled to life with a familiar gruff voice. "The Baratie. This is Zeff speaking."

Archer's eyes widened with recognition, and before Rosinante could say anything, he shouted into the snail, "Zeff! It's me, Archer!"

Zeff's gruff voice responded almost immediately, irritated. "I may be old, brat, but I ain't deaf. Keep your damn voice down! And while we're at it, I've got a bone to pick with you and that absurdly tall boyfriend of yours."

Archer paused, confused. "Wait, what? What did we do this time?" He racked his brain, trying to remember if they’d caused any trouble at the Baratie recently. Maybe they drank too much last time?

Zeff let out a frustrated grunt. "It’s not you two this time. It’s your youngest offspring, that damn Luffy. Came waltzing onto my ship with a green-haired punk carrying three swords, who almost got himself sliced in half by Mihawk of all people. Not to mention, there’s an orange-haired girl and some long-nosed kid tagging along."

Archer’s eyes widened, and he looked at Rosinante, completely dumbfounded.

Archer's voice trembled a little as he asked, "What did Luffy do now, Zeff?"

The old man’s voice hardened, filled with both annoyance and disbelief. "What didn't he do? Let’s see… your brat blew a giant hole in my roof, broke nearly all our plates after we forced him to pay off his debt as a chore boy, ate us out of food supplies, challenged Don Krieg of all people—and somehow beat him! All while loudly proclaiming he’s gonna be King of the Pirates."

Archer stared at the Denden Mushi, frozen in place. Rosinante was equally wide-eyed, silently mouthing, "Don Krieg?"

But Zeff wasn’t done. "And if that wasn't enough, he stood by while lettucehead challenged Mihawk to a duel and nearly got sliced in half. Then the orange-haired girl? Yeah, she stole their ship and turns out she's working for Arlong! And what did your brat do? He set out in a damn ketch, dragging the wounded punk, the long-nosed kid, and Sanji of all people with him to go find her!"

Zeff's voice reached a crescendo as he roared, "Your kid's just like his fathers! Reckless and a damn menace!"

Archer’s jaw dropped. Rosinante, equally speechless, put a hand to his face in shock. "Sanji?" Rosinante muttered under his breath, disbelief and concern mixing in his tone.

For a moment, there was just stunned silence. Archer’s heart pounded.

Rosinante gently took the Denden Mushi from Archer’s trembling hands. "Zeff, why did Sanji join them?" he asked, trying to keep his voice steady.

Zeff let out a long, exasperated sigh on the other end. "That damn Eggplant got a heart softer than a soufflé. The brat offered him some wild dream about finding the All Blue, and before I knew it, Sanji was packing up to leave. Said it was his one shot to chase what he’s always wanted."

Rosinante closed his eyes, feeling a mixture of understanding and concern. "I see," he replied softly. "Thanks for letting us know, Zeff. Are you and the rest of your cooks all right after everything?"

There was a grunt from Zeff before he answered, "We’re fine. But I’ll tell ya, those two days with Luffy gave me more gray hairs than raising that damn Eggplant ever did. That kid’s a handful—and then some."

Rosinante couldn’t help but chuckle, despite the situation. "We know… believe me, we know."

"Take care of yourselves," Zeff added, his tone softening slightly. "If Luffy comes back here, I’ll give him an earful and tell him to call you."

With that, the line went dead. Rosinante lowered the Denden Mushi and glanced over at Archer, who still seemed too stunned to speak.

"Well," Rosinante said, exhaling deeply. "That explains a lot."

Archer blinked, slowly coming back to his senses. "Our kid… fought Krieg… and recruited Sanji?"

"Yep," Rosinante confirmed, resting a hand on Archer’s shoulder. "And somehow, we’re still surprised."

Archer's eyes suddenly widened as a realization struck him. "Rosi, wait a minute," he said, his voice trembling with excitement. "The lettucehead Zeff mentioned—could that be Cabbagehead, Zoro? With Mihawk and the three swords? And the long-nosed kid could be Usopp! Does that make sense?"

Rosinante's eyes grew as wide as Archer's. "That could be it," he said, his voice barely containing his shock. "We need to check with Giles about this Arlong and the orange-haired girl."

They raced up to the deck where Giles was inspecting the ship’s rigging, his brow furrowed in confusion at their sudden urgency. Archer and Rosinante approached him breathlessly.

"Giles!" Archer called out. "Do you know anything about an orange-haired girl working for Arlong? Zeff mentioned her, and we're trying to piece things together."

Giles looked up, his expression turning serious. "Nami. She worked for Arlong since she was a child. Her situation was pretty rough. She’s one of the reasons I left the crew, couldn’t take the way she was treated. Asked her to come with me, but she said no. She’s a skilled navigator, but she had a tough time with Arlong. Why do you ask?"

Archer and Rosinante exchanged a look of shock. "That Nami," Rosinante said slowly, "is the same Nami we saved from the Marines years ago. We pretended to be her parents to help her."

Archer’s face flushed with anger and frustration. "So Luffy has gathered Sanji, Zoro, Usopp, and Nami—all these people—into his crew. And now he’s off challenging everyone in sight? Goddammit!"

Archer’s rant escalated, with a colorful mix of swearwords and exasperation. Rosinante, not one to be left out, joined in the ranting, both of them venting their frustrations about their son’s reckless adventure and the chaotic state of their lives.

Raya leaned in toward Giles, her voice low and tinged with a touch of amusement. "You know, this is exactly why I never wanted kids."

Giles glanced at her, his expression breaking into a grin as he chuckled softly.

Chapter Text

It turned out, having one of those Log Pose things wasn’t so bad after all. Since their daring heist on the Marine ship, Giles had managed to steer them true without getting them lost a single time. It was a small miracle that Archer appreciated more than he’d ever expected. The device was proving to be incredibly useful, far beyond Archer's initial skepticism.

But it wasn’t all smooth sailing. One of the drawbacks of the Log Pose was its maddeningly slow reset time. Archer grimaced at the thought of it. The thing seemed to take forever to recalibrate, which meant they were stuck docked at a rather sizable island for a while. Not exactly what Archer had in mind for their next move, but it was necessary.

He glanced over at Giles, who was currently chatting animatedly with Raya about their next destination. The Fishman’s enthusiasm was palpable, his voice carrying a lively rhythm that contrasted with Archer’s growing impatience.

“Damn, it’s like waiting for paint to dry,” Archer muttered under his breath. He had never been one to sit idle for long, and the prolonged downtime grated on his nerves.

Bored out of his mind, Archer ambled over to where Rosinante was seated on a chair on the deck of the Silence, engrossed in a letter. Without a second thought, Archer plopped himself down onto Rosinante's lap, leaning his head back against Rosinante’s chest with a sigh of contentment.

Rosinante, initially surprised by the sudden intrusion, quickly adjusted to the new position. Absentmindedly, he began to run his hand up and down Archer's chest in a soothing, rhythmic motion. The gentle caress was both calming and familiar, and Archer felt a wave of relaxation wash over him.

Curious about the contents of the letter, Archer glanced up at Rosinante and asked, “So, who’s the letter from?”

Rosinante, still engrossed in the letter, replied with a casual tone, “It’s from my secret lover.”

Archer raised an eyebrow, a playful glint in his eye. “Oh, really? Is this secret lover hotter than me? And do they moan as pretty as I do?”

Rosinante set the letter aside, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. He leaned in and pressed a tender kiss to Archer’s neck before responding with a teasing smile, “Nope, not hotter, and definitely not.”

Rosinante handed Archer the letter, and as Archer skimmed it, Rosinante explained that it was from Shanks, with news that Law had been spotted in a country named Alabasta. Archer’s eyes lit up, and a radiant smile spread across his face, one that completely captivated Rosinante. Overwhelmed by the sight, Rosinante couldn’t help but pull Archer into a passionate kiss.

Their moment was interrupted by a loud cough. Both Archer and Rosinante looked up to see Giles and Raya standing with their arms crossed.

“Are you two done with your little lovers party?” Raya asked, her tone dripping with mock annoyance. “We planned to go out to eat and hit the bar after. Are you ready?”

Archer glanced at Raya, noticing her dress for the first time. “Wait, you’re wearing a dress?” he asked, surprised.

Raya shot him an exasperated look. “Yes, Archer. I am. Your skill at observation is truly astonishing!”

Giles and Rosinante burst into laughter at the exchange. Archer, slightly embarrassed but still grinning, shrugged and said, “Alright, alright. Let’s go. We’ve got a night out to enjoy.”

The night turned out to be a memorable one for the crew. They started with a delicious dinner at a fancy restaurant, where the wine flowed generously. Archer had to step in only once when a snobbish waiter made a snide comment towards Giles for being a fishman. With a cold glare and a few well-placed threats, Archer quickly shut him down, ensuring they wouldn’t have any more trouble for the rest of the night.

Raya, ever the charmer, took it upon herself to work her magic. She flirted shamelessly with the restaurant owner, a middle-aged man who clearly couldn't resist her playful wit and mischievous smile. By the end of the night, they had not only enjoyed a luxurious meal but also scored a hefty discount, all thanks to Raya’s smooth moves.

Raya, in full command of the night, had chosen a bar that was anything but ordinary. As they approached, the sound of lively music and laughter spilled out onto the street. It was massive, with colorful lights flashing through the windows, and the thrum of people dancing and drinking was palpable even from outside.

Grinning mischievously, Raya grabbed Giles by the arm and practically dragged him inside. "Come on, boys! Time to party!" she shouted over her shoulder.

Archer, walking in with Rosinante's hand firmly in his, looked around with wide eyes. The place was buzzing—people everywhere, spinning on the dance floor, clinking drinks, and laughing loudly. He took a deep breath, the atmosphere energizing.

"Good call, Raya," Archer admitted, his lips curling into a smile as he gave her an approving nod.

Rosinante, dressed in something much cleaner and more stylish than his usual raggedy coat, squeezed Archer’s hand. "I'm glad she made us change. We actually fit in here for once."

Archer looked down at his own outfit—simple but clean and sharp, thanks to Raya's insistence—and then at Rosinante, who looked effortlessly handsome. "Yeah," he said with a chuckle, "guess we can pass as halfway decent."

The four of them found a corner to claim, drinks already making their way to the table courtesy of a passing waiter. Raya leaned back, satisfied. "This is exactly what we needed."

As the night progressed, the drinks kept flowing, and laughter grew louder. Raya, ever the life of the party, somehow convinced Giles to join her on the dance floor. Archer watched as the massive fishman reluctantly let himself be dragged to the center of the room, his awkwardness soon fading as Raya spun around him, dancing with an infectious energy. It was a sight Archer couldn’t help but smile at.

Sitting back in his chair, Archer found himself lost in thought. He had never planned on becoming a pirate, let alone a pirate captain. In fact, it still felt surreal at times. Even having his own crew seemed like a strange twist of fate. Yet here he was, with these unlikely companions—Raya, Giles, Rosinante—somehow forming a crew that felt like family.

They were all crazy bastards, each with their quirks and wild pasts, but they matched in ways he never expected. The thought warmed his heart as he watched Giles, who was usually so composed, actually enjoying himself on the dance floor, and Raya laughing like she'd won the night.

As Archer made his way through the crowded bar, the lively atmosphere buzzed around him. He glanced back at Rosinante, who was now deep in conversation with the man from Alabasta, both of them laughing and trading stories like old friends. It was typical of Rosinante to strike up a connection with anyone—he had that kind of warmth, that ability to make people feel at ease. Archer couldn’t help but smile at the sight before turning his attention back to the bar.

He squeezed between a couple of patrons, leaning against the counter to flag down the bartender.

As Archer stood at the bar, waiting for his drinks, he heard a voice behind him—smooth and dripping with confidence. "What’s a handsome man like you doing all alone?"

For a moment, Archer was thrown off, blinking in surprise. He slowly turned around to find a young man with striking red hair, though noticeably missing eyebrows. The redhead gazed at Archer with a hungry look, as if Archer were the main course on tonight’s menu.

The man took a step closer, his voice dropping to a sultry whisper. "A beautiful head of hair like that," he said, his eyes lingering on Archer’s messy locks, "belongs on my pillow... along with the rest of its owner."

Archer’s mind raced. Holy shit, he thought, it’s been a long time since someone’s hit on him. It was so out of the blue, and while Archer was used to commanding attention as a pirate captain, this kind of flirtatious attention? Not so much, mostly because he always was together with Rosi.

He opened his mouth to respond, but for the first time in a while, words didn’t come immediately. The guy leaned in closer, clearly thinking he had caught Archer off guard.

Archer blinked, finally recovering his usual swagger. "Uh, listen, kid—"

he young man grinned wide and cocky, clearly pleased with himself. "Hey, you already know my name! I’m Eustass Kidd, Captain of the Kidd Pirates, and your lover for the evening."

At that, Archer couldn’t help it—he burst into laughter, practically doubling over. Once he caught his breath, he straightened up, wiping a tear from his eye. "Listen, Kidd," Archer said with a grin, "I’m flattered, really, but you’re not my type. And, uh, I already have a partner. Add to that the fact that I’m 30, at least 10 years older than you."

Kidd's cocky expression flickered, but before he could say anything else, Archer grabbed his drinks, still chuckling, and quickly made his way back toward the table where Rosinante and the others were sitting. He didn’t notice the intense stare that Kidd shot his way as he walked off, the redhead’s smirk twisting into something more determined.

As Archer reached the table, he handed out the drinks, still smiling to himself. Rosinante raised an eyebrow, sensing something was up. "What’s got you grinning like that?"

Archer shook his head, "You wouldn’t believe me if I told you."

Much later that night, as they stumbled out of the bar, Giles was shouldering the passed-out Raya, who was wrapped up in Rosinante’s jacket to keep warm. Archer, still buzzing from the evening's events, launched into his story about his encounter with Kidd.

"You should’ve seen it," Archer was saying, his tone filled with amusement. "This Kidd guy, all flashy with his red hair and no eyebrows—he actually tried to hit on me! He said something about wanting my hair on his pillow. Can you believe that? I mean, who even says that?"

Giles erupted into laughter, his hearty chuckles echoing through the night. Rosinante, walking beside Archer, was quieter, his face unreadable. He listened, but his mind seemed elsewhere.

As they reached the ship, Archer grabbed Rosinante’s hand, his smile softening as he looked up at him. Rosinante glanced down, a small, contemplative smile forming on his lips.

As they crawled into bed, Archer could sense something was off. Rosinante, usually so expressive, was uncharacteristically silent. Archer, not buying the pretense, perched himself on Rosinante’s lap and looked into his eyes, his expression earnest.

“What’s wrong?” Archer asked gently, his concern evident in his voice.

Rosinante shrugged slightly, trying to brush it off. “Nothing’s wrong.”

Archer’s gaze remained steady, unwilling to let it slide. “Tell me,” he pressed, his voice softer but firm.

Finally, Rosinante sighed. “Maybe I’m a little jealous of this Kidd.”

Archer’s lips curved into a reassuring smile. He leaned in, his voice a low murmur against Rosinante’s ear. “Even if Kidd were the last man on earth,” Archer said, his tone filled with sincerity, “I still wouldn’t want him. Because there’s only one man I want, and that’s you.”

Archer kissed Rosinante softly, his lips trailing down his chest with tender, lingering touches. His kisses grew slower and more deliberate as he moved lower,

With a playful grin, Archer positioned himself at the foot of the bed, his golden eyes sparkling with anticipation. Leaning over, Archer took Rosinante's thick cock into his warm mouth, his lips wrapping around the head and sliding down the shaft.

Rosinante's dick was already semi-erect. As Archer's mouth engulfed him, Rosinante's eyes fluttered open, adjusting to the sight of his golden-haired lover deep-throating him with expertise. "I love you so fucking much," Archer purred, his voice muffled as he spoke around Rosinante's length. He looked up, his eyes locking with Rosinante's, a silent promise of pleasure gleaming in their depths.

Rosinante groaned, his hands running through Archer's wavy blond hair, encouraging him to take more of his throbbing cock. Archer complied, his tongue swirling and teasing the sensitive underside, making Rosinante's breath hitch.

The sensation of Archer's warm, wet mouth was exquisite, and Rosinante couldn't help but thrust his hips gently, fucking that gorgeous mouth. But Archer had other plans. He wanted to tease and please his lover in a different way.

With a final, deep suck, he pulled off, leaving Rosinante's cock glistening with saliva. Archer's eyes sparkled with mischief as he climbed onto the bed, straddling Rosinante's waist. Rosinante then said "Your turn to feel my mouth," he whispered, his breath hot against Archers ear.

Before Archer could react, Rosi pushed him down onto the bed, positioning him on his hands and knees. The sheets rustled as Rosinante admired the view of Archer's lean back and muscular buttocks.

He couldn't resist leaning in and biting gently on one rounded cheek, eliciting a surprised moan. Rosinante’s hands roamed freely, caressing and squeezing Archer's firm ass. He spread the cheeks, revealing the tight pink hole, and blew gently, making Archer shiver.

"You're so beautiful," he murmured, his lips brushing against the sensitive skin. With deliberate slowness, Rosinante leaned in and licked a path from the small of Archer's back, up to the base of his spine, and finally, to the puckered entrance.

His tongue circled the tight muscle, teasing and probing gently. Archer’s breath quickened, his moans filling the cabin as Rosinante's tongue danced and delved, preparing him for what was to come.

Rosi's fingers joined the sensual assault, dipping into the warm, slick hole, stretching and scissoring, listening to Archer's loud moans of pleasure. The sound of his lover's voice, raw and unguarded, drove Rosinante wild.

He wanted to hear more, wanted to push Archer to the edge. With a final, deep thrust of his fingers, he pulled away, leaving Archer desperate and needy. He positioned himself behind his lover, his hard cock lined up with Archer's entrance. "Please," Archer begged, his voice hoarse with desire. Rosinante didn't make him wait any longer. He thrust forward, entering Archer in one smooth motion.

Archer's body clenched around him, hot and tight, causing him to groan in pleasure. He paused, allowing them both to adjust to the incredible sensation. "Fuck me, Rosi," Archer urged, his voice a raspy command.

Rosi obliged, gripping Archer's hips firmly, he began to move, pounding into him with fierce abandon. The bed creaked and the cabin echoed with the sounds of flesh slapping against flesh, punctuated by Archer's unrestrained moans. Rosi reached forward, grabbing a handful of Archer's blond hair, and pulled his head back, exposing his neck.

 He kissed and nipped at the sensitive skin, his other hand delivering sharp smacks to Archer's ass, leaving it glowing pink. "Yes, yes, harder!" Archer cried out, his body on fire, craving more. Rosinante obliged, his thrusts becoming wilder, driving them both closer to the edge. He could feel his own orgasm building, but he wanted to take Archer with him. Just as Archer's moans reached a fever pitch, Rosinante slammed into him, making Archer cum over the bed, screaming Rosi´s name.

Rosinante then spun Archer around, pushing him onto his knees, Archer's eyes widened in surprise, but he quickly recovered, Archer's hand found Rosinante's cock, stroking it in time with the expert movements. Rosinante could feel his climax building, his balls tightening.

"I'm close," he groaned, his voice strained. Suddenly, he came all over Archer’s face with a loud moan.

Panting and sated, Archer collapsed onto the bed beside his lover, their bodies glistening with sweat and cum. He reached up, taking a finger and scooping some of the sticky fluid from his cheek, bringing it to his mouth and sucking his finger clean.

As they fell asleep, Archer whispered to Rosinante that he loved him, and only him.

Chapter Text

The morning sun spilled across the deck of the Silence as the crew gathered at Raya’s call. Archer stood among them, arms crossed, waiting for whatever their day held. The sea breeze tugged at his coat, and he squinted slightly against the light. Raya, looking more lively than she had the night before, stood in the center with her hands on her hips, her voice loud and clear as she addressed everyone.

"Alright, listen up, you lot!" she announced. "We need to stock up before we head to Alabasta. It's a long journey, and we can't just rely on dumb luck to get by."

Archer smirked, his eyes briefly shifting to Rosinante beside him, knowing all too well that luck—and Rosinante’s bumbling charm—often did get them by. But still, Raya had a point.

Raya continued, "Giles, you’re up."

The large fishman stepped forward, his deep voice calm but commanding. "Alabasta’s a desert kingdom," Giles began. "Hot as hell, with very little water. The ruling family is the Nefertari dynasty, and they’re well respected. But lately, things have been going downhill—rumors of rebellion, civil unrest, and a lot of shady movements. So when we get there, keep your heads down and don’t draw attention unless necessary. We’ll need to stay hydrated and watch for sandstorms."

As Giles finished his briefing, Rosinante stepped forward, handing each crew member a list of supplies they were responsible for gathering before they sailed out.

Archer accepted his list and immediately squinted at the small, cramped writing. “Damn it, Rosi,” he muttered under his breath, holding the paper at arm’s length, then closer, trying to make out the tiny letters. Rosinante always wrote things so small.

He was still standing there, squinting and trying to decipher the list, when he felt a light poke on his shoulder. Turning around, he found himself face-to-face with Rosinante, who was holding Archers reading glasses. Archer immediately scowled.

“I don’t need those,” he said stubbornly. “I can see just fine.”

Rosinante’s amused but insistent look said otherwise. Archer knew that expression all too well—there would be no getting out of it. With a dramatic sigh, he snatched the glasses from Rosinante’s hand and begrudgingly put them on. “Happy now?” he grumbled.

Rosinante chuckled softly, his eyes sparkling with affection. “Very.”

Archer glanced back down at the list through the glasses. Admittedly, the words were a lot clearer now, but he’d never let Rosinante know that. Stupid glasses. He huffed but made no further complaints. The shopping list was straightforward enough—food, water, medical supplies, and a few odds and ends. But the moment he saw extra blankets, he rolled his eyes. Of course, Rosinante would think of something like that.

“What do we need blankets for? We’re going to a desert,” he muttered.

Rosinante heard him, of course. “Nights in the desert can get cold.”

Archer shot him a look. “I know that. But still.”

Rosinante just smiled, his soft laughter barely audible as he turned to help Giles with some of the heavier planning details.

Archer sighed, adjusting his glasses with a finger and looking back down at his list. Even though he hated wearing them, he couldn’t help but feel a flicker of warmth in his chest. It wasn’t the first time Rosinante had fussed over him, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last.

"Alright," Archer said, finally accepting his fate. "Let’s get this over with."

When they reached the bustling market, the scent of spices, fresh produce, and the chatter of vendors filled the air. Rosinante, ever the organized one, turned to the crew and laid out the plan.

“We’ll split up to cover more ground,” he said, glancing around at each of them. “But I expect everyone to meet back at the town square in three hours, no later. We don’t want to miss our window.”

Raya stretched her arms with a grin, clearly excited about their little adventure. But before she could disappear, Rosinante leveled a serious look at her. “And Raya, no drinking until you’ve finished your list.”

Raya pouted but didn’t argue. “Yeah, yeah, no drinks till I’m done. Got it.”

Rosinante turned to Giles next, but there was no need for a lecture. He simply nodded at the fishman, knowing Giles was reliable and probably the least likely to cause any issues.

Then, Rosinante’s gaze landed on Archer, who had been watching the exchange with a smirk. “And you,” Rosi said, eyes narrowing playfully, “no trouble until you’re done with your list.”

Archer scoffed, rolling his eyes. “I never make trouble.”

Raya snorted from behind him, and even Giles chuckled under his breath. Archer shot them both a glare but couldn’t help the small grin tugging at his lips. Sure, he’d gotten into a few scraps here and there, but it wasn’t like he started them…most of the time.

“Three hours,” Rosinante reminded them all again before he turned on his heel and headed toward his own part of the market, leaving the rest of the crew to their tasks.

As Archer made his way through the market, he couldn’t help but laugh to himself. No trouble, huh? He’d do his best… but this place was a powder keg of activity. Anything could happen.

As Archer wandered through the lively market, his bag nearly full and his list almost checked off, a commotion caught his attention. A group of men gathered in a tight circle, their voices raised in cheers and jeers. Curious, and admittedly a little bored, Archer veered off course and made his way toward them. He pushed through the crowd, wondering what had them so riled up.

When he finally saw what was going on, his blood began to boil.

In the center of the circle was a makeshift pit, and inside it, a small creature—dwarf or fairy, Archer couldn’t quite tell—was locked in a brutal fight with a giant rat. The tiny figure was bleeding, panting heavily, clearly outmatched but still trying to fend off the rodent. Archer’s eyes narrowed. From the creature’s battered state, it was obvious this wasn’t its first fight.

The crowd’s cheers became white noise in Archer’s ears as his anger flared. He’d seen a lot in his time as a pirate, but this? This was disgusting. A pit fight with a bleeding, exhausted creature for their amusement? Hell no.

Spotting a man on the side taking bets, Archer stalked over to him, jaw clenched. He forced himself to stay calm, at least for now.

"What the hell is that?" Archer demanded, nodding toward the small figure in the pit.

The man looked him up and down with a smirk, clearly unfazed by the question. “That? Oh, that's just a dwarf from the Tontatta tribe. Got him from a slaver a while back. Ain't he a scrappy little thing?”

Archer’s fists tightened at his sides, but he kept his voice even. "And you’re just making him fight for your entertainment?"

The man chuckled, clearly finding the situation amusing. “Better than letting him sit around useless. ‘Thing’ here’s been with me for a while now. Fights all over markets. People love it.”

Archer’s mind was already racing with ways to end this. No way was he leaving without the dwarf. "How much for him?" Archer asked, his voice deadly calm.

The man’s smile faded slightly, sensing the seriousness in Archer’s tone. “Thing ain’t for sale,” he replied flatly.

Archer’s anger flared hot. Not for sale? That was just fine. He had ways of making things happen.

As Archer watched the bloody fight unfold, the dwarf—Archer refused to call him "Thing"—finally managed to kill the rat. The crowd roared with laughter and cheers, entertained by the cruel spectacle. Archer, however, was seething inside, barely keeping his cool. The man who had been taking bets started packing up, tossing the exhausted dwarf into a small cage as if he were nothing more than an animal.

The sight of it made Archer's blood boil even more. He trailed the man, watching him head toward a nearby wagon, and the moment the bastard climbed up, Archer struck. A quick punch to the head knocked the man unconscious. For good measure—and because Archer was really pissed off—he hit him a few more times, making sure he wouldn’t be waking up anytime soon.

With the man out cold, Archer snatched up the cage and darted into a nearby alley, out of sight from the rest of the market. He set the cage down gently and knelt in front of it, getting his first real look at the dwarf.

Shit, he’s small, Archer thought. The little guy couldn’t have been more than 10 centimeters tall—tiny, thin, and clearly malnourished. Archer hated how bony he looked, like he hadn’t eaten properly in weeks.

Without wasting any more time, Archer pulled out his lockpicks and worked on the cage. After a few deft movements, the lock clicked open. He swung the door wide, and the dwarf crawled out slowly, looking up at Archer with cautious eyes.

"Are you... gonna be my new owner?" the dwarf asked hesitantly, his voice soft but clear.

Archer shook his head firmly, his eyes softening. "No, kid. You’re free now. I’m not anyone’s owner."

The dwarf seemed to relax at that, his small shoulders sagging in relief. “Thank you… My name’s Timble,” he said, his voice tinged with gratitude but also a deep exhaustion.

"Timble, huh?" Archer smiled warmly, though the sadness tugged at him. “Well, Timble, I’m Archer. Look, I know you’ve been through a lot, but you’re free now. Do you have anywhere to go? Any family?”

Timble shook his head. "No… I’m all alone."

Damn. If that didn’t tug at Archer’s heartstrings. He could already feel the pull, that familiar sense of wanting to help. He made a quick decision, the kind that felt right, deep in his gut.

"Hey," Archer said, his voice softening. "Why don’t you come with me? I’ve got a crew, and we’ve got a doctor who can take a look at your injuries. They’re good people, I promise."

Timble looked up at him with wide eyes, considering the offer for only a moment before nodding. "Okay."

"Alright, then," Archer said with a grin. He gently picked Timble up, placing the tiny figure on his shoulder. The weight was so light it was barely noticeable. As they made their way out of the alley and toward the market square, Archer started telling Timble all about his crew—about Giles, Raya, and, of course, Rosinante.

"And trust me," Archer said with a chuckle, "you’re gonna love them. They’re a bunch of crazy bastards, but they’re good. You’ll fit right in."

As Archer made his way toward the meeting place, he could feel Timble’s tiny hands gripping his shoulder for balance. But it didn’t take long before the little guy started to get tired, his movements slowing down until he eventually slumped over, clearly exhausted.

“Hey, you okay up there?” Archer asked softly, glancing at Timble.

“Yeah… just really tired,” Timble mumbled, barely able to keep his eyes open.

Archer’s heart gave another tug. The poor guy had been through hell, fighting for his life, locked in a cage—no wonder he was exhausted.

Without a second thought, Archer gently picked Timble up from his shoulder and placed him in his breast pocket. The tiny dwarf nestled into the fabric with a contented sigh, the warmth of Archer’s chest lulling him into much-needed rest.

Before they continued, Archer spotted a nearby fruit stand and walked over. His eyes landed on a pile of strawberries, their vibrant red color catching his attention. With a grin, he tossed a coin to the vendor and grabbed the juiciest one he could find.

“Here,” Archer said as he carefully handed the strawberry to Timble. “In case you get hungry later.”

Timble’s eyes widened as he took the strawberry—it was nearly as big as his head! He stared at it with a mixture of awe and gratitude before taking a small bite. A smile spread across his tiny face, and Archer couldn’t help but chuckle.

Shit, he’s cute. Archer thought, amused by how delighted Timble looked with his strawberry.

With his new little crewmate tucked safely in his pocket, Archer continued on his way, a satisfied smile on his face as he made his way toward the town square.

As Archer reached the town square, he spotted his crew gathered together. Raya was animatedly recounting her latest escapade, her hands gesturing wildly as Rosinante sighed, clearly exasperated. Giles stood beside them, chuckling at the whole scene.

“What did she do this time?” Archer wondered aloud, amused.

Giles caught sight of him and called out, “Archer! Over here!” Archer quickened his pace, a smile spreading across his face as he approached.

“Raya almost seduced a vendor,” Rosinante explained, shaking his head. “The vendor’s wife was not happy. At all.”

Archer burst into laughter, imagining the chaos that must have ensued. “I can only imagine how that went down!”

Rosinante continued the tale, detailing how he had to pull Raya away from the furious wife, who had been wielding a rolling pin as a weapon. Archer could hardly contain his laughter, picturing the whole scene in his mind.

“Sometimes I wonder if we should just put a bell on her,” he joked, leaning against a nearby wall.

Raya grinned, unfazed by the mockery. “It’s not my fault she couldn’t appreciate my charm!”

As they began walking toward the nearest bar to grab a bite to eat, Archer felt a sense of warmth. He glanced down at Timble, who was still fast asleep in his pocket. The little dwarf had already added an unexpected layer of joy to his day.

“Alright, what’s on the menu for tonight?” Archer asked, turning the conversation to more pleasant matters as they strolled through the bustling streets.

The meal was delicious, and the laughter flowed easily as they shared stories and enjoyed each other's company. Afterward, Archer found himself back at the bar, waiting for their next round of beers.

Just as he was about to grab the drinks, a hand landed on his shoulder, and a familiar voice broke through his thoughts. “Well, well, if it isn’t the golden beauty himself. Is tonight the night you’ll join me on my ship for an unforgettable evening?”

Archer turned around to see Eustass Kidd, the red-haired captain from the night before. He rubbed his eyes, trying to shake off the disbelief. “I already told you, I’m not interested,” Archer replied, maintaining his composure. “I’m in a relationship— a very happy one, at that.”

Kidd scoffed, leaning closer with a smirk. “Come on, pretty. You need a real man. I can show you a good time, no questions asked.”

Archer raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. “You’re really persistent, aren’t you? But I assure you, I’m perfectly content where I am.” He straightened up, trying to convey the finality in his words.

Kidd inched closer, a mischievous glint in his eye as he reached out to touch a lock of Archer's hair. “You know,” he said, his voice low and teasing, “What I wouldn’t give to see you all sweaty and panting, moaning my name.”

Archer's heart raced, not from the suggestion but from the sheer audacity of the man. He tried to take a step back, only to hit the bar counter behind him. The world seemed to narrow as Kidd’s proximity grew more intense. “Listen, I—” he started, scrambling for words, but Kidd cut him off with a smirk.

“Come on, blondie. Live a little. You can’t deny there’s a thrill in the chase, right?” Kidd leaned in, his breath warm against Archer’s ear.

Archer felt a mix of irritation and disbelief. “I’m flattered, really, but I’m not interested in your... adventures,” he managed, trying to maintain his composure despite the awkwardness of the situation.

Suddenly, two things happened simultaneously. Rosinante, noticing the tension and anger radiating from Archer, surged forward and yanked Kidd away from him, his expression furious. “Get the hell away from him!” Rosi shouted, his fists clenched and ready to swing.

At the same moment, Timble, who had apparently woken up just in time to hear Archer’s distress, decided to take matters into his own tiny hands. With a burst of courage, he leaped out of Archer’s breast pocket, scrambling up Kidd’s arm and brandishing his little spear.

“Leave him alone, you big bully!” Timble shouted, surprising everyone in the bar. With a swift motion, he slashed Kidd across the cheek with his spear, catching the redhead off guard.

Kidd stumbled back, shock painted across his face, and collided right into Rosinante, who wasted no time. With a swift punch, he sent Kidd sprawling to the floor, effectively putting an end to the encounter.

Timble then hopped back onto Archer’s shoulder, his tiny chest puffed out with pride. “Did you see that?” he exclaimed, his eyes sparkling with excitement. “I showed him!”

Archer couldn’t help but laugh, relief flooding through him. “You sure did, little guy!” he said, ruffling Timble’s hair affectionately. Turning his gaze back to Rosinante, he could see the tension in his partner's shoulders begin to ease, though the protective fire in his eyes still burned brightly.

Rosi looked down at Kidd, who was groaning on the floor, and then back at Archer. “Are you okay?” he asked, genuine concern replacing his earlier anger.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Archer replied, still chuckling. “Thanks to Timble here and you love.” He gestured to the dwarf on his shoulder, who was beaming with pride.

Rosinante looked from Timble to Archer, his eyes softening with curiosity. “Who is he? What happened?” he asked gently, his protective instincts kicking in again.

Archer quickly explained how he found Timble in the fighting pit, sharing the little dwarf's story as Timble chimed in with details about his previous life.

Kidd, now recovering from his earlier encounter, stood up with a scowl, a masked man by his side. “You’re not getting away that easily!” Kidd shouted, ready to lunge at Rosinante.

But before he could move, a bottle sailed through the air, smashing against Kidd’s head with a satisfying crack. “Run!” Raya shouted, stepping forward with a triumphant grin, having thrown the bottle herself.

Giles, quick on his feet, took advantage of the chaos. “Let’s go!” he yelled, grabbing their supplies as the group sprinted toward the exit.

As they raced out of the bar, Raya glanced back at Timble, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “You’re super cute!” she called, her voice filled with laughter despite the urgency of the situation.

Timble, feeling a mix of pride and embarrassment, blushed and smiled shyly. “Thanks!” he replied, his little voice barely audible over the commotion.

Once they reached the ship, Giles was already at the helm, moving with practiced efficiency. “Get on board! I’ll sail us out of here!” he commanded, his focus sharp as he navigated the vessel away from the chaotic port.

As the Silence glided smoothly over the waves, Archer turned to Raya, who was already kneeling beside Timble. “Can you check him for injuries?” he asked, concern lacing his voice.

Raya nodded, her usual playful demeanor shifting to one of focus. “Of course! Let’s see what you’ve got, little guy,” she said gently, reaching out to examine Timble’s small frame.

Meanwhile, Rosinante pulled Archer aside, cupping his face in his hands. “Are you alright after that run-in with Kidd?” he asked, his eyes searching Archer’s for any signs of distress.

Archer leaned into Rosinante’s hand, feeling a rush of warmth and gratitude. “I’m okay, thanks to you, and Timble” he replied, a soft smile spreading across his face. “I really appreciate you stepping in like that.”

Rosinante’s expression softened further, his thumb gently brushing over Archer’s cheek. “What’s your plan for Timble?” he asked, curiosity shining in his eyes.

Archer straightened, his determination clear. “He’s a member of the Roaring Pirates now,” he declared, a hint of pride in his voice.

Rosinante smiled widely, clearly pleased with Archer's decision. “I think he’ll fit right in,” he said, glancing over at Timble, who was chatting animatedly with Raya about the best ways to heal his injuries.

Chapter Text

When they finally docked in Nanohana, Archer spotted a strange-looking ship a little ways down the harbor. Its figurehead was shaped like a ram's head, of all things. Weird, but who was he to judge? The Silence, after all, was painted entirely black with matching black sails—a choice Raya had insisted upon when they first dubbed the ship.

Archer’s attention shifted from the odd ship to his own surroundings. Alabasta was hot. And not just warm, but blistering. The kind of heat that made you regret wearing more than a towel.

He sighed, feeling sweat trickle down his back as he looked down at his own outfit, or lack thereof. Shorts. That’s all he could manage to wear in this infernal heat. But as practical as they were for surviving the temperature, there was one major downside: no pockets. He had no way to carry Timble, who usually nestled into his breast pocket.

"Guess we'll have to improvise," Archer muttered to himself.

Thankfully, inspiration struck when he found a wide-brimmed hat to shield himself from the sun. Grinning, he bought it and carefully placed a tiny drink umbrella on top, creating a makeshift shade for Timble. He turned to the little dwarf who sat on his shoulder.

"How about that, Timble? You get a VIP spot," Archer said, tipping his hat so Timble could climb on top.

Timble hopped up, looking thrilled as he settled comfortably under the tiny umbrella. “This is perfect!” Timble exclaimed, laughing as he stretched out on Archer’s head.

Archer and Timble had wandered through the sun-soaked streets of Nanohana for hours, searching for any hint of Law’s whereabouts. The air was thick with heat and dust, and even with his hat providing some shade, sweat dripped down Archer’s face. Timble sat comfortably under the tiny umbrella perched on Archer’s hat, observing the bustling crowds from his elevated position.

They had all agreed to split up before heading into the city. It was the best way to cover more ground and gather as much information as possible. But, knowing their luck as the Roaring Pirates, everything could—and would—go wrong. So, naturally, they had devised their own personal signals in case any of them found trouble or got into a sticky situation. Archer couldn’t help but smirk at the thought of what could go wrong, given their track record.

“Still no luck, huh?” Timble asked, his tiny voice carrying over the noise of the market.

Archer sighed, wiping his forehead as he adjusted the rolled-up poster of Law in his hand. “Nope. No one’s seen or heard of him.” He had shown the poster to countless people—locals, merchants, and even a few shady-looking characters who might’ve had connections—but so far, everyone had come up empty.

“Maybe he’s further inland,” Timble suggested, peeking over the rim of Archer’s hat to get a better view.

“Maybe,” Archer muttered, his eyes scanning the crowds. Where are you, kid?

Then something ran straight into him, Archer barely had time to react before the first impact nearly knocked him off his feet. Timble, hanging on for dear life, clung to the tiny umbrella on Archer’s hat. "What the—" Archer started, regaining his balance only for a second before another body barreled into him from behind.

"What the hell is wrong with people today?" he growled, turning around, fists clenched, ready to give someone a piece of his mind. But as he opened his mouth, he froze. The first person who had crashed into him was none other than Luffy—the brat who always seemed to show up when chaos was imminent.

Luffy, looking as carefree as ever, grinned widely at Archer. “Hey, Dad!” he yelled, with the same enthusiasm he used for just about everything. Before Archer could yell back, the person behind Luffy ran straight into his back, causing them both to tumble to the ground in a heap of limbs and grumbling.

Archer rubbed his temples in frustration. “Of course, it’s you, you damned brat,” he muttered under his breath. This was classic Luffy—chaotic, uncoordinated, and completely oblivious to the messes he created. He shook his head and walked over to where the two lay sprawled on the ground.

Before he could say anything, Luffy shouted, “Look, Ace! It’s Dad!”

Archer’s eyes widened, and sure enough, the second person untangling themselves from Luffy’s back was none other than Ace, who looked equally surprised—and somewhat embarrassed.

Just as Archer was about to open his mouth to demand an explanation from his wayward sons, Ace darted up to him, eyes wide with urgency. “We don’t have time to explain! Dad! We have to go—now!” Ace’s tone left no room for argument.

Archer let out a deep, exhausted sigh, feeling the weight of the situation settle in. "Of course," he muttered under his breath, pulling his hat from his head and shoving it into Ace's hands.

Ace blinked at him, confused. " Uhm Dad, Why are you giving me your hat right now?"

Archer just gave him a look that clearly said trust me before stepping back. The moment he shifted into his massive bear form, it all made sense. Ace’s eyes lit up with understanding, clutching the hat and a very surprised Timble, who was grinning ear to ear, hanging on to the brim of the oversized hat.

The situation escalated quickly when a group of Marines appeared at the far end of the street, led by a white-haired man who looked like he could smoke an entire tobacco field in one go. “STOP RIGHT THERE!” the man bellowed, his voice gravelly from years of cigar abuse.

Archer’s sharp eyes narrowed at the approaching Marines. "Wonderful," he thought. "Just what I needed today."

Luckily, his boys weren’t total idiots—most of the time. Luffy and Ace wasted no time, hopping onto Archer’s massive back with practiced ease. Ace still clung to Archer’s hat, while Timble perched on the brim, looking both thrilled and slightly bewildered by the sudden turn of events.

With a deep breath, Archer let out his signal, a mighty roar that echoed through the town like thunder. The roar caused people to scatter, and the sound traveled far enough to alert Rosinante, Raya, and Giles that something had gone sideways.

As Archer took off at a sprint toward the harbor, Luffy, Ace, and Timble were laughing like maniacs, enjoying the chaos. Luffy cheered, throwing his arms up like he was on some kind of twisted amusement ride. "This is awesome Dad!"

Ace, gripping the back of Archer’s fur, shouted, “Faster, Dad! They’re catching up!”

“I know,” Archer growled, his voice rougher in his bear form. He raced through the winding streets of Nanohana, his paws pounding against the cobblestone as he dodged obstacles and weaved through narrow alleyways.

Behind them, the white-haired Marine captain shouted orders, trying to keep up, but Archer’s speed was too much for them. "You won't get away!" the Marine yelled, though he was rapidly losing ground.

Archer smirked inwardly. Watch me.

As they neared the harbor, Archer saw their ship, the Silence, already prepped and ready to go—bless Giles for being on top of things. Rosinante stood at the gangplank, waving them forward as Raya kept an eye out for any more Marines.

With one final push, Archer bounded up the dock, leaping onto the ship with Luffy, Ace, and Timble still clinging to him. They landed in a heap, but everyone was in one piece—more or less.

Rosinante rushed over, his face a mix of concern and amusement. “What the hell happened this time?”

Archer, shifting back into his human form, dusted himself off and took his hat and Timble from Ace, plopping it back on his head with a grunt. “Your sons happened. Again.”

Rosinante stood frozen on the deck of the Silence, his mouth hanging open as he tried to process the whirlwind of events that had just unfolded. His partner, middle child, and youngest had burst out of nowhere in a flurry of chaos, only for the ship to now be speeding away from Nanohana like their lives depended on it—which, knowing them, might’ve been the case.

He blinked, still at a loss for words, as Archer adjusted his hat and leaned casually against the railing, like nothing unusual had happened at all. But before Rosinante could say anything, he was tackled.

“PAPA!” Ace and Luffy screamed in unison, throwing themselves at him in a giant, bone-crushing hug.

Rosinante, caught off guard, stumbled backward but quickly found his footing. A manic grin spread across his face as he hugged them both back tightly, his heart swelling at the sight of his boys. "You little troublemakers," he muttered, overwhelmed with emotion.

But just as quickly as he hugged them, he pulled back and smacked each of them on the head, his grin never fading. “You’re all idiots! Absolute idiots, the lot of you!” He gestured broadly between Ace, Luffy, and Archer.

“Hey!” Archer protested from the side, raising his hands in defense. “For once, I didn’t do anything! I was just minding my own business, thank you very much!”

Rosinante gave him a look that was half exasperated, half amused. “Right, because chaos just follows you wherever you go for no reason.”

Ace and Luffy snickered, clearly enjoying the exchange.

"Seriously!" Archer continued, crossing his arms. "I was this close to actually finishing something without any drama, and then these two just... appear out of nowhere, chased by Marines! It's not on me this time!"

Rosinante shook his head, but his smile remained. “You’re all lucky I’m used to dealing with idiots.”

Ace and Luffy, still hanging on to him, grinned up at their papa, looking as innocent as possible despite the absolute mayhem they’d caused. “Love you too, Papa!” Luffy chimed in, nuzzling against Rosinante’s side.

“Yeah, yeah,” Rosinante muttered, though his smile softened, and he ruffled both their hair. “Just… next time, give me a warning before you bring half the Marines with you, okay?”

Ace gave a half-hearted salute. “Aye, aye, Captain Papa!”

Archer chuckled, shaking his head. "At least they have some manners when it comes to you."

Rosinante’s eyes sparkled as he looked over at Archer. “Well, someone has to be the responsible one around here.”

Archer snorted. “That’s why we have Giles love.”

As Luffy suddenly smacked his forehead, the sound echoed across the deck. "Oh no!" he exclaimed. "I forgot my crew... and my ship!"

Ace, still grinning at the madness of the situation, turned pale almost instantly. “Wait... I forgot my ship too!” His face, normally calm and composed, was now filled with panic.

Archer, completely done with the situation, threw his hands up in the air and turned away. “Of course they forgot,” he muttered, walking toward the galley. “I need a beer.”

Rosinante sighed deeply, watching Archer disappear before turning to the rest of the group. “Alright, Giles, we’re going to have to turn around.”

Giles, who had been quietly steering the ship and watching the whole situation unfold with a raised eyebrow, just nodded and adjusted their course without a word. He had gotten used to this kind of chaos.

Raya, however, was still standing there with her mouth hanging open. "Wait... you forgot your ship? How do you forget something like that?"

Luffy, looking sheepish, rubbed the back of his head. “Well… it’s not like we meant to. We were kinda... in a hurry.”

Ace nodded, though he still looked pale. “Yeah, we’ve been… uh, a bit distracted.”

Raya blinked, then shook her head in disbelief. “Which ship is yours, exactly?”

Luffy’s eyes lit up. “It’s the one with the ram’s head!”

At that exact moment, Archer returned to the deck, beer in hand. He took one look at Luffy and groaned. "Of course, it’s the one with the ram’s head,” he mumbled into his drink, before taking a long swig.

Rosinante chuckled despite himself and stepped forward, rubbing his temples. “Alright, alright,” he said, formulating a plan. “We can’t sail back into the harbor; the Marines are already pissed off because of…” He shot a look at Archer and the boys, “certain events. But we’ll get close enough to Luffy’s ship, and then—”

He paused for a moment, looking over his crew and the two troublemakers. “Here’s the plan: I’m going to throw Archer, Raya, Luffy, and Ace over to your ship.”

“Wait, what?!” Raya blurted, taking a step back. “You’re going to throw me again?”

“Yes,” Rosinante said, as though it were the most natural thing in the world. “You and Luffy will gather his crew. Ace, you grab your boat. And Archer...” He paused, looking over at his partner who was still drinking. “You can roar if anything happens.”

Archer lowered his beer and sighed, resigned to his fate. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll roar. Great plan, Rosi.”

Luffy beamed at the plan, clearly excited. "This is going to be awesome!"

Raya still looked less convinced, muttering under her breath about crazy plans and crazy people, but she didn’t argue further. Ace, however, nodded. "We’ll get our ships back. No problem."

Giles continued to sail the Silence closer, making sure to keep a safe distance from the Marines. Rosinante, with his immense strength, began preparing to launch them into action.

“Alright, get ready,” Rosinante said, stretching his arms. He turned to Luffy and grinned. “Hope you’ve got good balance.”

Luffy, never one to back down from a challenge, bounced on his feet. “I’m always ready!”

Archer just rolled his eyes and finished his beer, mumbling, “This is going to be a mess.”

As Archer soared through the air, he pondered his life choices. Really? This is where I’m at now? Flying through the air like a goddamn cannonball? Beside him, Raya was crackling with laughter, clearly enjoying the absurdity of the situation, while Ace and Luffy were grinning ear to ear like this was the best part of their day.

Archer barely had time to brace himself before they all landed in a heap on the deck of Luffy’s ship—the Going Merry, as Luffy had so cheerfully yelled mid-flight.

For a second, they were just a tangle of limbs and awkward groans before Archer quickly got to his feet, brushing off his shorts and glancing around. Six utterly confused faces stared back at him. Big, wide eyes full of shock, all looking like they’d just seen a circus act land in their living room.

Well, ain’t this cozy, Archer thought dryly as he straightened his posture, looking at the bewildered crew.

With a calmness that betrayed the ridiculousness of the situation, he gave a small wave. “Hello.”

The six people continued to stare, completely silent. Luffy, meanwhile, was untangling himself from the pile of limbs with a massive grin plastered across his face. "Guys!" he shouted, jumping up and pointing dramatically at Archer. "This is my dad!"

Archer pinched the bridge of his nose. "Great introduction, son," he muttered, before looking back at the confused crew.

Before Archer could even blink, he found himself pulled into a sudden, tight hug by none other than Oregano-boy—Sanji. The blonde cook had practically thrown himself at Archer, grinning from ear to ear like a kid who’d just seen an old friend after years apart.

"Oi, Sanji," Archer greeted with a laugh, ruffling the younger man's hair like he used to do when Sanji was a scrawny teenager back at the Baratie. "Good to see ya, brat."

Sanji pulled back, still beaming. "You too, Archer! It's been ages!"

Archer chuckled, but his expression quickly turned mock-serious as he gave Sanji a light thwap on the head. "But before you get too cozy, you better call your old man, 'cause if I gotta hear Zeff bitch and moan about not hearing from you, my ears are gonna start bleeding."

Sanji winced, rubbing the back of his head, though his grin never faltered. "Yeah, yeah, I know. I was planning to. Just been a little... busy."

"Busy?" Archer raised an eyebrow, glancing around the deck with a smirk. "Is that what you kids are calling it these days?"

Archer then turned his attention to the rest of the Straw Hat crew. A wide grin spread across his face as he walked up to Nami, his arms open. Without hesitation, he pulled her into a warm hug.

"Look at you!" Archer said with a playful wink as he leaned back to get a better look at her. "You've become a beautiful young lady, Nami. Watch out, the world's not ready for you, and especially not the marines!"

Nami blushed, though she tried to hide it with a grin, giving him a light swat on the arm. "Still the charmer, huh, Archer?"

"Only for the best," he replied with a wink before moving on to Usopp.

Grabbing the long-nosed sniper, Archer pulled him into a half hug, patting his back. "And you, Usopp, still telling tall tales?" He paused, lowering his voice with a serious edge, "Ready to forge your own legacy now, kid?"

Usopp stood up a little straighter, a grin spreading across his face as he nodded. "You bet I am! Captain Usopp’s time is coming!"

"I don’t doubt it for a second," Archer said with a chuckle, giving him a pat on the shoulder before moving on to Zoro.

The swordsman was leaning casually against the ship’s railing, arms crossed as he watched Archer approach. Archer reached out, and the two men shook hands firmly.

"Zoro." Archer's voice held a teasing tone. "You done being stupid after your little run-in with Mihawk?"

Zoro’s expression didn’t change, but there was a spark in his eyes. "Still working on that, old man. But next time, I'll be ready."

"Good to hear," Archer replied, giving him a knowing nod. "Just don’t lost on the way."

Zoro smirked, a rare but subtle acknowledgment of Archer's teasing.

As Archer took in the rest of the crew, something caught his eye—a little reindeer, standing behind Usopp, but hiding in the most awkward way possible, with his antlers and head poking out. Archer couldn’t help but grin at the sight.

Squatting down to the little creature's level, he gave a gentle "Hey there," holding out his hand.

The reindeer, looking hesitant but curious, shuffled forward. After a moment’s pause, he extended a tiny hoof and shook Archer’s hand.

Archer’s smile softened as he asked, “And what’s your name, little guy?”

The reindeer seemed to shrink slightly, his cheeks turning pink as he whispered, “Chopper.”

With a warm grin, Archer said, “Well, Chopper, it’s very nice to meet you.”

The little reindeer suddenly broke into a small, happy dance, hopping up and down in place. Archer chuckled softly at the sight, charmed by how adorable Chopper was.

Archer then stood up, turning his attention to the final member of the crew, a young woman with striking blue hair. Before he could say anything, Nami introduced her.

“This is Vivi,” Nami said with a smile, gesturing to her.

Archer’s eyes twinkled as he took Vivi’s hand in his own, giving her a charming smile. “Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you, Vivi.”

Vivi blushed, her cheeks turning a shade of pink as she smiled shyly in return. “Likewise, Archer,” she managed to say.

As Archer stood, basking in the playful atmosphere, a familiar voice interrupted from behind. "If you're done flirting, it's time to alert Papa that we're ready to sail out."

Archer turned to find Ace standing there, grinning like a cat that had caught the canary, his signature shit-eating smile plastered across his face.

With a raised eyebrow, Archer smacked Ace on the back of the head, rolling his eyes. “Respect your elders, brat. When you’ve got game like your old man, then you can talk. But not before!”

Ace immediately tried to tackle Archer, but Archer easily sidestepped, leaving Ace stumbling forward and catching himself before falling. Luffy’s laughter rang out, and Timble, perched atop Archer’s hat, seemed to snicker as well.

The Straw Hats, who had been watching the entire scene unfold with wide eyes, burst into chatter.

“Your dad’s awesome!” Usopp exclaimed, his admiration shining through.

“And hot,” Vivi, Nami, and Sanji whispered, almost in unison. Nami and Vivi exchanged glances, while Sanji looked faintly embarrassed but resolute in his agreement.

Luffy grinned ear to ear, arms crossed over his chest with pride. “Yeah, he is!” he said, without a hint of modesty.

Archer chuckled at their reactions but gave Luffy a sideways glance. "Don't let it go to your head, rubber brat. You've still got a long way to go if you want to catch up."

Raya clapped her hands sharply, instantly commanding everyone's attention. Her sweet yet deceptively dangerous voice sent a little shiver down Archer's spine. “So,” she began, her tone laced with amusement and something else that always put Archer on edge, “does anyone happen to have some explosives? Or fireworks, maybe?”

Archer smirked, knowing exactly what she had in mind. He turned to Ace. “How about you send our signal to Rosi and Giles instead? Show off a little.”

Ace’s eyes lit up with excitement, always eager for a chance to demonstrate his abilities. With a confident nod, he raised his hand, and in an instant, a massive pillar of flame shot into the air, swirling and glowing brightly before dissipating. The others gawked for a moment, clearly impressed by the display.

"That should get their attention," Archer said, smirking at Ace's obvious pride in his handiwork.

Turning to Sanji, Archer tapped his finger against his chin thoughtfully. “Hey, Sanji, think you can find me a beer, a strawberry, and some rum?”

Sanji, didn’t even hesitate. In a matter of moments, he returned with everything Archer had requested.

“Perfect,” Archer said, handing Raya the rum with a wink, Timble the strawberry (which practically dwarfed the little guy), and popping open his beer for himself. He took a long sip, savoring the cool drink in the hot Alabasta sun, and then gave a mock salute. "To waiting, good company, and surviving another day without too much trouble."

Raya raised the rum in response, Timble held up his strawberry proudly, and Ace just grinned while the Straw Hats watched the scene unfold, clearly enjoying the newfound chaos that Archer and his crew brought with them.

It only took about fifteen minutes for the Silence to arrive, cutting through the waves with purpose. As it docked, Archer felt a rush of excitement. Rosinante and Giles quickly boarded the Going Merry, and Rosinante wasted no time.

“Hello, everyone!” he called out, his warm smile lighting up the deck. “I’m Rosinante, co-captain of the Roaring Pirates, and these two are my sons, Luffy and Ace. Oh, and of course, Archer’s my partner.”

Nami, Sanji, Usopp, and Zoro all greeted him with big smiles, clearly happy to see Rosinante again. “Hey, Rosi!” Nami chimed, her eyes sparkling. “You’re just as charming as ever!”

Rosinante chuckled, his cheeks slightly flushed. He moved on to greet Vivi and Chopper, kneeling down to meet the little reindeer at eye level. “And who do we have here?” he asked, his tone gentle and inviting.

“Chopper!” the little reindeer exclaimed, puffing out his chest. “Nice to meet you!”

Rosinante grinned, ruffling Chopper’s fur affectionately. “Nice to meet you too, Chopper. I think we’re going to be great friends.”

Meanwhile, Giles waved a casual hello to the crew and then positioned himself next to Raya, who was already animatedly discussing something with Sanji about cooking.

But not five minutes later, a massive Marine ship came barreling toward them, interrupting the lively atmosphere on the Going Merry. Archer’s annoyance flared as he set his beer down, watching Luffy and the crew begin to panic. Ace, somehow, had fallen asleep right in the middle of it all.

“Alright, listen up!” Archer clapped his hands to grab their attention, his voice steady and commanding. “Roaring Pirates, be ready!” He pulled off his hat and handed Timble to Raya, who tucked him safely into her cleavage.

“Let’s show them what we can do!” Rosinante said, a fierce glint in his eyes. With a quick, fluid motion, he threw Archer at the incoming Marine ship.

In midair, Archer transformed into his bear form, a massive creature that hit the deck of the Marine ship with a thunderous crash, sending Marines scattering in fear. Wa giant roar that shook the very air around them.

Raya landed gracefully on his back, daggers drawn and an eager Timble perched in her cleavage, ready for action. Together, they charged forward, embodying the chaos of battle.

Meanwhile, Giles dove into the sea, with Rosinante following suit, landing perfectly on Giles’s back as they surfed toward the ship, their movements synchronized and fluid.

The Roaring Pirates sprang into action, and the Straw Hats watched in awe, their mouths agape at the sight. Archer’s transformation, the sheer force of their assault—it was a spectacle to behold.

“Your dads are awesome!” Usopp exclaimed, eyes wide.

“Yeah, and hot!” Nami, Vivi, and Sanji whispered in agreement, exchanging knowing glances.

After the fight—and the obligatory looting that followed—Rosinante, with a smirk, tossed Archer and Raya back toward the Going Merry. Both were splattered with blood, and Timble clung to Raya, shaking his little spear as if still on high alert.

Giles and Rosinante surfed back to the ship, with Giles throwing Rosinante up onto the deck before hauling himself up after him. Archer, spotting Rosinante’s familiar figure, couldn’t help but leap into his arms, wrapping his legs around his partner and pulling him in close.

“Damn, you’re all bloody,” Rosinante chuckled, but the warmth in his voice was undeniable.

Archer leaned in, pressing his lips against Rosinante’s in a deep kiss, the blood on his face only adding to the wildness of the moment. “That was exhilarating!” he exclaimed between kisses, his heart racing.

Rosinante chuckled against Archer’s lips, wrapping his arms tightly around him. “You’re a mess, but you’re my mess.”

A cough broke the playful atmosphere, and Archer turned to see Ace waking up, grimacing. Ace muttered, “Great, just like back at the stronghold. I thought I was done hearing—”

“Or witnessing!” Luffy interjected, his voice filled with a childlike incredulity.

Rosinante rolled his eyes and smacked both of them lightly on the back of their heads. “You two are brats! You should be happy your parents love each other.”

Luffy, leaned in and whispered loudly, “Yeah, but not several times a day!”

Ace couldn’t help but chime in, his grin mischievous. “It’s a wonder Dad can even walk some days.”

That line caught Zoro mid-sip of his sake, and he nearly choked, sputtering as he fought to regain his composure. The crew erupted in laughter, the tension from the battle fading into a lighthearted banter.

Rosinante, still smiling but with a mock-serious expression, smacked both of them again, though this time it was more playful than reprimanding. “You’re both grounded! No more sweets for a week!”

Luffy pouted, and Ace feigned shock. “You wouldn’t dare!”

Archer chuckled, wrapping an arm around Rosinante’s waist. “You know he would. You better watch out.”

Timble, still nestled in Raya’s arms, piped up with a tiny voice, “I think your dads is really cool!”

“See?” Archer beamed, feeling a swell of pride. “Even Timble agrees!”

Raya smirked, “Yeah, you two should take notes from him. He knows how to be respectful.”

Archer crossed his arms, a smirk playing on his lips as he turned to Ace. “Alright, brat. Enough with the teasing. How about you do something useful for once? Blow that marine ship to pieces.”

Ace’s eyes lit up with mischief, and he grinned, excitement bubbling up inside him. “You got it, Dad!”

With a flourish, he stepped forward, flames dancing at his fingertips as he concentrated. The crew watched in awe, a mix of anticipation and respect filling the air. Archer felt a swell of pride as Ace unleashed a fiery blast toward the marine ship.

The flames roared as they sailed through the air, striking the ship with a resounding explosion that echoed across the water. The marine vessel shuddered and began to crumble, smoke billowing up as the crew scrambled in a panic.

“Nice work!” Archer shouted, pumping his fist in the air. The Straw Hats cheered, their voices mingling with the sound of the blast, celebrating the chaos Ace had created.

Rosinante stood beside Archer, shaking his head in mock exasperation. “You’re really encouraging him, aren’t you?”

Archer shrugged, a playful glint in his eyes. “What can I say? He’s my son. If he’s going to cause chaos, he might as well make it spectacular!”

Chapter Text

Out of nowhere, in true Luffy fashion, the kid suddenly jumped up and shouted, "Let's have a party!" He didn't even wait for a response before turning to Sanji and yelling, "Bring the meat!" And just like that, the party was on.

Archer leaned back, taking in the chaos unfolding around him. It was nice, really. Meeting Luffy’s crew and seeing Ace again after all this time. He missed this—the noise, the laughter, the sense of being surrounded by family. Archer took a swig of his beer and watched the scene with a contented smile.

Chopper and Raya sat off to the side, giggling and deep in conversation about medicine. Chopper, with his little reindeer self, seemed completely enthralled, his eyes wide as Raya explained something, probably medical in nature, judging by the way she gestured with her hands.

Not far from them, Zoro was showing Timble some sword moves. The little dwaf sat perched on a barrel, eyes wide and mouth open as Zoro expertly swung his swords around. Archer couldn’t help but grin at the sight—Timble, always eager to learn something new, looked completely captivated.

Then there was Nami, sitting close to Giles. Archer's ears perked up as he caught snippets of their conversation. They were talking about Arlong, specifically how Nami had suffered under his tyranny and how Giles had wanted to take her with him when he left. The two exchanged a quiet moment, and Nami leaned over to hug Giles, thanking him. The sight made Archer’s heart warm.

Rosinante, meanwhile, was deep in conversation with Vivi. The poor girl was blushing furiously as she listened to Rosi, probably charmed by his soft smile and gentle demeanor. Archer shook his head with a smirk. Of course Rosi had managed to befriend a princess without even trying. Alabasta’s very own princess, no less! Archer chuckled under his breath. The brats—minus Ace—were helping Vivi with something. Some mysterious plan, no doubt.

Speaking of Ace... Archer’s eyes found his second son, who was sitting suspiciously close to Sanji. The two of them were engaged in what looked like a friendly conversation, but it wasn’t lost on Archer that Sanji, the Baratie’s former lady-killer, was actually giggling at something Ace said. Well, well, well... Interesting.

Luffy, on the other hand, had parked himself right next to Archer, shoveling food into his mouth at a pace that should’ve been impossible. “So, you took down Arlong, huh?” Archer asked between sips of his beer. Luffy nodded, mouth too full to speak, but his grin said it all.

“Yeah! And the Baratie was awesome! I fought this big guy—Don Krieg. But Zeff’s food was even better!” Luffy said after he swallowed, his eyes lighting up with excitement.

As the night went on, laughter and music filling the air, Ace suddenly pulled Archer and Rosinante aside, his usual carefree demeanor replaced by something more serious. His voice lowered, he began to speak about something that had clearly been weighing on his mind.

“There’s something I need to tell you both,” Ace started, glancing around to make sure none of the Straw Hats were close enough to hear. “It’s about someone in Whitebeard’s crew. A guy named Thatch.”

Archer and Rosinante exchanged a quick look, their casual smiles fading. Archer could feel a knot tightening in his gut, an instinctive sense that whatever Ace was about to say wasn’t good.

“Thatch was killed,” Ace continued, his voice steady but laced with pain. “By another crewmate… someone named Teach.”

Archer’s eyes narrowed at the mention of the name. He didn’t like the sound of this at all, and his stomach churned with unease.

“Teach?” Archer echoed, his tone growing sharper. “What happened?”

Ace clenched his fists, his eyes darkening. “Teach was after something… something dangerous. I don’t know the full details, but he killed Thatch for it. And now, I’m going after him.”

Archer’s heart sank. Of course, Ace would go after this guy. His son had always been driven by a strong sense of loyalty and justice, especially when it came to his family—his crew.

“Ace...” Archer sighed, running a hand through his hair. “That doesn’t sit right with me. This guy sounds dangerous.”

“I know,” Ace admitted, looking down for a moment before meeting Archer’s eyes again. “But I have to do this. For Thatch. For Whitebeard.”

Archer didn’t like it—didn’t like it one bit. His worry was palpable, and it showed in the way his jaw tightened and his hands twitched. He’d always known Ace would go after something dangerous one day, but this felt different.

“You better be careful,” Archer said, pulling Ace into a tight hug, his earlier concerns fading into raw emotion. “If something happens to you...”

Ace hugged him back, his grip strong but reassuring. “I’ll be careful, I promise,” he whispered.

Rosinante, who had been watching with concern, stepped forward and placed a hand on Ace’s shoulder. “Listen, Ace,” he said quietly, “if you need anything, anything at all, you contact us. Don’t be stubborn.”

Ace nodded, offering a small smile. “I will.”

The tension in the air seemed to lessen as Ace stepped back. Archer let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. Then, with a smirk, he decided to lighten the mood.

“So, how’s Birdy doing these days?” Archer asked, referring to Marco with a grin. “Still flapping around?”

Ace sighed dramatically, rolling his eyes. “You don’t know the half of it... turns out Marco has a crush on me.”

Rosinante’s eyebrows shot up, and Archer, caught off guard, burst out laughing.

Ace crossed his arms, clearly exasperated. “Yeah, and it’s annoying as hell. I don’t like him back, but he just… keeps trying.”

Archer was still laughing, wiping a tear from his eye. “Well, if pineapple head gets too much for you, just let your papa know. He will give him another beating for old times’ sake.”

Rosinante grinned, the earlier worry momentarily forgotten as the three of them shared a laugh. Ace shook his head but couldn’t help smiling.

“All right, all right,” Ace said, shaking his head. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Rosinante raised an eyebrow, noticing how Ace had been sitting pretty close to Sanji all evening. With a mischievous grin, he leaned in, nudging Ace lightly. “So, Ace... what’s going on with you and Sanji?” Rosinante asked, his voice teasing. “You’ve been awfully cozy tonight.”

Ace, caught off guard, turned a deep shade of red—blushing harder than Archer had ever seen. And holy hell, that sight made Archer’s day.

“W-What?” Ace stammered, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. He shrugged, trying to play it off cool. “Sanji’s just... you know... cool. We were talking. He’s not ugly to look at either.”

That only made Archer and Rosinante exchange knowing smiles, both fighting back their laughter.

Archer leaned in, waggling his eyebrows at his son. “Ohhh, ‘not ugly to look at,’ huh?” he teased. “Well, well, well, our boy’s got good taste. Blond, well-dressed, and he can cook. Sounds like you might’ve caught yourself a winner, Ace.”

Ace shot his dads an annoyed look, still blushing furiously. “It’s not like that!” he muttered, though the embarrassment in his voice only made it clearer that there was definitely something more to it.

Rosinante chuckled, patting Ace on the back. “Whatever you say, Ace. Just remember—if you need advice on navigating... certain waters, you know where to find us.”

Archer grinned widely.

Ace groaned, burying his face in his hands, his blush refusing to fade. But deep down, Archer could tell his son was amused too. They were all enjoying this too much to stop.

The morning was crisp, the ocean breeze gently tugging at Archer’s coat as he and Rosinante stood by the gangplank of the Going Merry, preparing to say their goodbyes. Luffy and his crew had gathered, the air filled with that familiar mix of adventure and impending farewells. It never got easier, but Archer knew this was part of the life they all chose.

“Luffy,” Rosinante began, his voice warm but firm, “use your head out there. And try not to cause too much trouble, alright?”

Archer smirked, knowing full well that asking Luffy to avoid trouble was like asking the sea not to have waves. He leaned down slightly, looking at his youngest son with a gleam in his eye. “Come on, brat, what’s the motto?”

Luffy’s face brightened with excitement as he stood at attention. “Swing it till you wring it!”

Archer grinned, ruffling Luffy’s hair. “That’s my boy.” He knew Luffy would be just fine—headstrong and reckless, sure, but with a heart big enough to sail the world.

Then came the harder part—saying goodbye to Ace.

Ace stood nearby, arms crossed, his usual confident smirk plastered on his face, but there was something behind his eyes that Archer could see—a flicker of uncertainty, of danger in his quest. Archer didn’t like it one bit.

Rosinante and Archer walked up to Ace together, both of them pulling him into a tight, almost crushing hug. They held on longer than usual, feeling the weight of his journey. Neither of them were happy about Ace’s mission to find Teach, but they knew he wouldn’t be dissuaded. The least they could do was remind him he wasn’t alone.

“Be careful out there,” Rosinante said, his voice rough with emotion as he patted Ace on the back. “And don’t be a stranger. Keep in touch.”

Ace nodded, his arms squeezing them back, though there was a stubborn determination in his expression. “I will papa. Promise.”

Archer pulled away slightly, his hands still gripping Ace’s shoulders. “And before you go, what’s your motto, brat?”

Ace groaned, rolling his eyes, but there was a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “Wrap it before you tap it,” he muttered, his voice tinged with exasperation.

That line broke the tension, sending a wave of laughter through the crew and even the Straw Hats. Rosinante shook his head, chuckling, while Archer let out a bark of laughter.

“That’s right!” Archer exclaimed, pulling Ace into one last quick hug. “Smart kid. Now go raise some hell—but not too much, alright?”

With that, they stepped back, giving Ace room to leave on his own terms. But as they watched him walk off, both Archer and Rosinante couldn’t shake the worry they felt. Still, they trusted him—and they’d always be just one call away if Ace ever needed them.

As the Silence sailed smoothly away from the Going Merry, the early morning sun casting a warm glow over the ocean, Archer stood on deck, arms crossed, watching the shrinking figure of their sons’ ships. His mind was still lingering on the farewells—especially Ace’s mission. Despite the laughter and jokes, he couldn’t shake the knot of worry that had formed in his gut.

Suddenly, Giles, of all people, sauntered over, his towering fishman frame casting a shadow over Archer and Rosinante. With an uncharacteristically thoughtful expression, he looked from the horizon back to the two of them. “You know,” he said, his voice deep but gentle, “you’ve got some good kids there. Real good. You should be proud.”

The words caught Archer off guard, and he turned to look at Giles, then at Rosinante, who had the same look of quiet surprise on his face. A grin slowly spread across Archer’s face, wide and toothy. “Yeah, we do, don’t we?” he said, a swell of pride rising up to momentarily replace the worry.

Rosinante nodded beside him, a soft smile tugging at his lips. “We sure do,” he echoed, his eyes still lingering on the distant spot where Luffy and Ace were likely already bickering again. “Proud doesn’t even begin to cover it.”

Archer chuckled, patting Giles on the back. “Thanks, big guy. That means a lot, especially coming from you.”

As they sailed further along the Grand Line, Archer couldn't help but reflect on Giles' comment about their sons. It made him grin, thinking about the chaos of their visit with Luffy and Ace. Despite all the madness, it was true—they had good kids. Archer leaned on the rail, gazing out at the sea, his thoughts flickering between pride and the deep worry that always accompanied thoughts of Law. Their oldest was still out there, hiding away with an unbeaten 14-year record in the world's most dangerous game of hide and seek.

Archer chuckled at the commotion behind him, hearing Raya’s voice rise in excitement as she helped Timble with his spear-throwing practice. The little guy had developed a serious case of hero worship towards Zoro, and ever since he'd seen the swordsman wield three swords, Timble had been obsessed with using at least two spears at once. Archer couldn’t help but grin at that.

Then, the cheering grew louder, and Archer heard Timble shouting, “I did it!” followed by Raya’s exclamation, “Well done!”

Turning around, Archer saw one of Timble's spears sticking out of a bird—a perfect hit. At first, he thought it was just a seagull, but Raya’s sudden cry of, “It’s a messenger bird! And it’s carrying a note!” piqued his curiosity.

Intrigued, Archer walked over to the bird-killing duo, raising an eyebrow as he approached. “Well, what have we got here?” he asked, his tone light but inquisitive. Raya had already retrieved the note from the now-deceased bird, holding it up for Archer to see.

“Looks like someone sent us a message,” she said, a mischievous glint in her eye.

Archer picked up the note, and started reading,

Archer’s eyes widened as he read the note, his face turning from its usual easy-going expression to one of shock. His heart raced as he quickly scanned the contents, disbelief setting in. Looking over at Raya, he didn’t need to say much. “Get Giles and Rosinante. Now,” he said, his voice low but urgent.

Raya, sensing the gravity of his tone, didn’t waste a second. She bolted, running faster than Archer had ever seen her, her feet practically on fire. Timble, the self-proclaimed "bird killer," jumped up Archer’s leg, scampering up his pants and shirt before settling on his arm, reading over the note alongside him.

“What’s it say, what’s it say?” Timble asked eagerly, his tiny eyes wide with curiosity.

Archer glanced at him, equally wide-eyed, both staring at the words in stunned silence. The note was from Law—their son, the one they’d been searching for all these years.

As Giles and Rosinante approached, panic and worry etched across Rosinante’s face, he was the first to speak. “What’s wrong, Archer? What happened?”

Archer turned towards Rosinante, holding up the letter as if it weighed a ton. “It’s from Law,” he said simply, his voice heavy with emotion.

And then—pure pandemonium.

Rosinante’s eyes went wide in disbelief. Giles nearly stumbled in shock, while Raya looked equally stunned. Everyone began shouting, questions flying left and right, and the air thickened with chaotic energy as the realization sunk in—Law had finally made contact.

Archer watched as Rosinante's trembling hands unfolded the note, the usually calm and collected man now visibly shaken. Though the letter was short—just a few lines—it carried the weight of fourteen years of searching, hoping, and worrying. Rosinante scanned the message, eyes locking onto the familiar signature at the bottom.

Cora-san... The name Law always called him. And there it was—coordinates, and a simple request: come alone - Law.

"Holy... shit," Archer whispered, barely able to believe what he was seeing. The air around them felt charged, like the moment had finally caught up to them after years of waiting. Rosinante, overwhelmed, sat down hard on the deck, clutching the note in his hands as if it would disappear if he let go.

Without hesitation, Archer knelt beside him, cupping Rosinante's face gently with one hand. He leaned in close, his voice a soft whisper in Rosinante’s ear. “We’re going to see him soon, love. He’s alive.”

Rosinante, too overwhelmed to speak, pulled Archer into a tight hug, burying his face in his neck. Archer felt Rosinante’s shoulders shake, and he held him as tightly as he could, knowing just how much this meant to him.

Meanwhile, Giles and Raya, understanding the magnitude of the moment, didn’t need to be told what to do. Without a word, they sprinted toward the helm and the maps, already plotting the course based on the coordinates Law had provided. The ship came alive with their efforts, the urgency and excitement palpable in the air.

Archer could hardly believe it. After all these years, it was really happening.

Timble then asked, if Law liked bird? At that they all laughed.

As the island came into view on the horizon, the tension aboard the Silence was palpable. Archer paced the deck like a prowling tiger, his eyes locked on the approaching shore. Rosinante, equally restless, moved beside him, occasionally glancing at the land ahead with a mix of hope and anxiety. Neither could sit still.

Giles, with his expert navigation, had pushed the ship to its limits, and Raya had worked wonders with the rigging to make their journey even faster. Now, with the island in sight, the time to reunite with Law felt almost too real. Archer turned to Rosinante and gave him a nod.

"Let's do this shit," he muttered under his breath, clenching his fists with determination.

Rosinante, with a rare serious expression, nodded back, his heart beating louder with every wave that brought them closer to the island.

The island was eerily quiet, with not a single sign of life beyond the dense jungle that loomed ahead. As the Silence touched the shore, Archer couldn’t help but feel a sense of unease settle in his gut. The overgrown greenery stretched endlessly, twisting and thick, hiding who knows what.

Rosinante stood beside him, taking it all in. "Great. Jungle... more jungle. Just what we needed," Archer muttered sarcastically, though his tone was laced with tension.

Their crew gathered on the beach, awaiting orders. Rosinante, ever the steady hand, turned to them with a serious look. “You’ll wait here for one day. If we don’t return or you don’t hear Archer’s roar by then… follow and do what you think is necessary.” His voice was calm but firm, the weight of what could happen unspoken but understood by all.

Archer met Raya’s eyes, a mischievous glint in his own. “And no fire,” he warned her with a smirk.

Raya, never one to back down from a challenge, flashed a grin. “No promises.”

With that, Archer took a deep breath, his hand brushing Rosinante's as they prepared to face whatever awaited them in the heart of that island.

As they trudged through the jungle, the thick undergrowth making every step more exhausting, Archer muttered under his breath. "Law could have at least given us more than just ‘an island.’ No directions, nothing. What, does he expect us to just stumble into him?”

Rosinante chuckled softly, his eyes glinting with amusement as he reached out, taking Archer’s hand to help him over a fallen tree. “Maybe he is testing us?”

"Testing my patience," Archer grumbled, though a small smile played at his lips as they pressed on.

Hours passed as they wove through the tangled mess of the jungle. The heat, the humidity—it was getting to Archer, but his thoughts stayed sharp. As they entered a clearing, Archer paused. Something in the air shifted. He sniffed cautiously, immediately catching a scent that didn’t belong in a jungle.

Rosinante sensed the change in Archer’s body language and gave him a questioning look. Archer pulled Rosinante’s hand and gave him a serious nod. “We’re not alone.”

Rosinante's expression tightened, and they both fell silent, their senses on high alert. Suddenly, the sound of footsteps crunched through the brush behind them. Archer and Rosinante spun around simultaneously, hands already reaching for their weapons.

A familiar voice cut through the tension. "It’s really you, Cora-San."

Standing just a few feet away, dressed in black with his signature hat, was Law. His face was mostly hidden by the brim, but the emotion in his voice was unmistakable. Rosinante froze, his eyes wide in disbelief, his breath catching in his throat.

“Law…” Rosinante whispered.

Law stood there, eyes locked on Rosinante, his voice low and filled with disbelief. "I thought you died that day, Cora-San... so long ago."

Rosinante sighed deeply, his hand subconsciously tightening around Archer's. “I came close,” he admitted, voice soft. “But Archer… Archer saved me.”

Law’s gaze shifted to Archer for a brief moment, a flicker of acknowledgment passing between them. He nodded once, processing this revelation.

After a beat of silence, Law asked, “Was it you two who told Whitebeard and Shanks you were looking for me?”

Rosinante nodded. “We had to. They were the only ones we trusted to help us spread the word without raising suspicion.”

Law let out a long breath, shaking his head slightly. “I thought it was Doflamingo, setting a trap to finish me off. Every time someone asked for me, I grabbed my crew and left in a hurry, always looking over my shoulder.”

Archer grunted, rubbing the back of his neck. “Well, that explains a lot. We’ve been chasing shadows for years.”

Rosinante gave a sad smile. “We never stopped looking, Law.”

Law’s expression softened, though there was still a guardedness in his eyes. “You didn’t need to go through all that trouble. I’m fine on my own.”

Archer crossed his arms, giving Law a pointed look. “Yeah? Well, we’re family. And we don’t leave family behind.”

There was a beat of silence as Law looked between the two men, the weight of their words settling over him.

Archer’s gaze didn’t waver as he spoke, his tone firm but not unkind. “Law, back then, I hadn’t even pulled all the bullets out of Rosinante’s chest before he was trying to go back and find you. So yeah, I get it. You’re fine on your own. You’ve had to be. But don’t you dare dismiss the man who’s been looking for you for fourteen years without hearing him out first.”

He pointed at a log a few meters away, using his best dad voice, one Law wouldn’t easily ignore. “You two—sit. Talk it out. Rosi’s earned at least that much. And while you’re at it, tell your crew to come forward. I know they’re hiding. I can smell them.”

Law blinked, visibly surprised by the authority in Archer’s tone, but then, as if realizing it was futile to argue, he nodded. “Fine,” he said quietly, then turned his head and whistled softly.

At that, Archer gave Rosinante’s hand a reassuring squeeze, a silent gesture of encouragement. “Go on, Rosi,” he murmured with a puff of air, nudging him gently toward the log. “It’s time.”

Rosinante hesitated for only a second before walking to the log, glancing back at Archer with a mixture of gratitude and nervousness.

Archer, satisfied that the two would finally get their chance to talk, settled down on a nearby rock. He crossed his arms and watched as Law’s crew emerged from the trees, wearing matching jumpsuits that were… well, something.

"Stylish," Archer muttered to himself, raising an eyebrow as the group cautiously approached.

Chapter Text

The Heart Pirates were a mixed bunch, that much was obvious to Archer as they stepped out of the trees. Yet, despite their differences, there was something undeniably cohesive about them—probably those matching jumpsuits. Archer had to admit, as his eyes scanned the group, that the jumpsuits were pretty awesome. Sleek and functional, they gave the crew an air of unity, like a well-oiled machine.

Briefly, Archer’s mind wandered. Could he get the crew to wear something like that? The image of Timble flashed in his head, the little guy waddling around in a tiny version of the jumpsuit, his fierce expression softened by the ridiculous cuteness. Archer almost laughed aloud. Timble would look adorable, no doubt about it.

But then reality kicked in. Raya. She’d probably set hers on fire within minutes, a grin plastered on her face as she watched it burn, taking sheer delight in her act of defiance. Archer smirked at the thought.

And then there was Giles—stoic, calm, and far too logical to buy into something as frivolous as matching uniforms. Archer could already imagine the fishman’s deadpan stare, boring into him silently until Archer gave up and muttered, “Fine, forget the jumpsuits.” Yeah, Giles would never let that happen.

Archer smiled softly at the ragtag group in front of him, breaking the silence. “Hello there,” he said, his voice warm but curious. “Would you like to sit?”

A polar bear—wait… a polar bear?—was the first to respond, flashing a big, toothy grin before sitting down on the ground with a heavy thud. Archer raised an eyebrow but kept his expression calm. Well, that’s new, he thought, amused.

Following the bear’s lead, the rest of Law’s crew began to sit as well, though none of them said a word. There was a distinct air of uncertainty, as if they were waiting for some kind of cue, or maybe just trying to size up the strange man addressing them. Archer cast a quick glance over at Rosinante and Law, noting they were deep in conversation. Good. That left him with Law’s crew for a moment, a chance to bridge the gap.

“I’m Archer,” he introduced himself with a grin, leaning back against the tree he’d been standing near. “And you are?”

The introduction seemed to open the door. The polar bear spoke first.

“I’m Bepo,” the polar bear said cheerfully, his voice surprisingly light for such a large creature. “I’m the navigator.”

A polar bear navigator. What the hell kind of crew has a polar bear navigator? Archer thought to himself, but the thought only made him smile wider.

“Penguin,” said the next crewmember, a man wearing a helmet, nodding briefly. “And this is Shachi,” he added, gesturing to another man with a matching jumpsuit.

The rest followed suit, introducing themselves one by one, though none seemed particularly chatty. Archer wasn’t surprised. Law had clearly built a tight-knit crew, and he suspected they didn’t take kindly to outsiders—or at least, not to people they didn’t fully trust yet.

Archer grinned as the introductions wrapped up. “Nice to meet all of you,” he said, his eyes flicking between the Heart Pirates, enjoying the odd mix of curiosity and wariness in their expressions.

Penguin, after a brief pause, suddenly leaned forward. “Is it true?” he asked, voice almost hushed. “That you killed over 5,000 marines and raided ten bases? And that your bounty was 100,000,000 beli when you were only twelve?”

Archer blinked, then threw his head back in laughter. “Five thousand marines?” he chuckled, shaking his head. “I don’t keep count of how many marines it’s been. But as for bases, it’s only been four so far,” he said with a mischievous wink, “and three ships.”

The Heart Pirates stared at him, wide-eyed, their disbelief obvious. Archer wasn’t finished yet, though.

“Oh, and a admiral and warlord...” he continued, trailing off dramatically. The group seemed to lean in without meaning to, waiting for his next words. Archer’s grin grew wider. “Raya and I only maimed one admiral so far.”

“It was awesome1!” Archer grinned.

Silence. The Heart Pirates’ jaws practically dropped. Penguin and Shachi exchanged stunned glances, while Bepo’s eyes widened in astonishment.

“Which admiral? Which warlord?” Bepo finally asked, his voice a little shaky with awe.

Archer’s smile didn’t fade as he leaned back, folding his arms. “Well, you ever hear of Kizaru?” he asked casually.

Every single one of Law’s crew nodded instantly. Kizaru, an admiral of legendary power, known for his light-speed abilities, was a name every pirate feared.

“Well, Rosi here,” Archer tilted his head toward Rosinante, still deep in conversation with Law, “gave him a pretty good beating. But the fun part was Raya carving a nice, big ‘G’ for Giles right into Kizaru’s forehead. Left a mark he won’t forget.” Archer’s eyes twinkled with amusement at the memory.

The Heart Pirates were speechless, hanging on every word.

“And the warlord?” Shachi asked after a moment, as if afraid to ask.

Archer’s face turned serious for a moment. “That’d be Doflamingo,” he said, the name carrying a weight that seemed to shift the air around them. “Back when I saved Rosinante from him, I bit his hand clean off.” He mimicked a biting motion, laughing softly at the memory. “Didn’t have much time to stick around, though. I had a half-dead Rosinante in my arms, and had to run like hell.”

The Heart Pirates remained frozen, absorbing the sheer audacity of the stories Archer was telling them.

Shachi hesitated for a moment before asking the next question, his eyes wide with awe. "Is it true? That Fire Fist Ace is your son?"

Archer’s expression softened, a fond smile spreading across his face. He nodded slowly. "Yeah, it’s true. Ace is our son, along with Luffy. Rosinante and I raised them together, all while we were searching for Law."

Bepo, shyly fidgeting, looked up at Archer. “Is it true…? That you’re the Golden Terror?”

Archer grinned, nodding his head. "Yeah, that’s me. I won the Devil Fruit in a poker game when I was twelve. Thought it was just a shiny fruit at first, but... turns out it was something much bigger." Bepo’s eyes widened, filled with awe and admiration. The rest of the Heart Pirates, especially Penguin and Shachi, leaned in closer, eager to hear more.

“Can we see?” Penguin blurted out, his excitement mirrored by Shachi, who nodded eagerly beside him.

Archer’s grin widened. “Alright, but you might want to step back a bit.”

With that, he stepped away, his body beginning to shift as his muscles expanded, fur rapidly sprouting, and bones cracking as he grew larger and larger. In moments, Archer had transformed into his monstrous bear form—a giant, scarred golden bear that towered above them. His fangs, long and sharp as a man’s arm, gleamed in the light, casting shadows over the Heart Pirates as they looked up in absolute awe.

Bepo’s eyes sparkled, practically glowing with excitement. "You’re… you’re incredible!" he whispered, his voice filled with reverence as he stared up at Archer in his full form.

Penguin and Shachi were speechless, their mouths hanging open as they took in the sheer size and power of the creature before them. “No wonder they call you the Golden Terror…” Shachi muttered, still in disbelief.

Just as Archer stood in his full bear form, towering over the Heart Pirates, a familiar voice called out from the jungle.

“Archer!” Rosinante's voice carried across the clearing. Archer turned to see Rosinante and Law walking toward them, the tension from earlier seemingly gone. From the look on Rosinante’s face, it had been a good talk. He smiled at Archer, his eyes soft and filled with relief, while Law just stared at the giant bear with wide eyes, clearly processing the sight of Archer in his transformed state.

Archer shifted his gaze between them, sensing the change in atmosphere. It seemed that Law and Rosinante had made some kind of peace. Rosinante’s smile grew wider as he approached Archer.

“Give the signal to the crew that we’ll be returning,” Rosinante said, his voice light with humor, as if knowing that Archer had been waiting for this moment all along.

Archer huffed, still in his massive bear form, then tilted his head back toward the sky. With a deep breath, he let out a thunderous roar that echoed through the jungle, shaking the trees and sending birds flying from the canopy in all directions. It was a sound that carried for miles, powerful and unmistakable.

The Heart Pirates, who had been in awe of Archer moments ago, were now covering their ears, overwhelmed by the sheer volume. Even Law flinched at the intensity of it. But Rosinante just smiled, his eyes full of warmth and amusement as he looked at Archer.

As Archer changed back into his human form, he walked over to Rosinante and Law, giving them both a curious look. "So, what's the plan?" he asked, his tone light but direct. At the mention of a plan, Law's eyes lit up with excitement. It was like flipping a switch. He immediately began explaining, his voice slightly rushed, about how they could sail to the next island together and spend more time with one another. But as he finished, Law’s confidence faltered, and he looked a little shy, glancing at the ground as if he was second-guessing himself.

Archer grinned, seeing that familiar awkwardness in Law. "Sounds good to me," he said with a nod, placing a hand on Law's shoulder. "But we better get moving before Raya burns down the forest waiting for us."

At that, Rosinante couldn’t help but laugh, shaking his head. "Yeah, you’re probably right. I don’t want to have to explain that one to anyone."

As they watched Law’s submarine disappear beneath the waves, Archer leaned against Rosinante, their fingers intertwined. The soft breeze ruffled their hair, but the moment felt anchored, solid.

Rosi turned to Archer, planting a gentle kiss on his cheek. “I love you,” he said, his voice steady and warm.

Archer smiled, a warmth spreading through him. “What did you and Law talk about?” he asked, curiosity bubbling beneath the surface.

Rosinante shifted slightly, glancing back at the spot where Law had vanished. “We talked about everything that happened since we got separated,” he replied. His tone held a mix of nostalgia and concern.

Feeling the weight of Rosinante’s words, Archer wrapped his arms around him, pulling him close. “You’ll get more time with him when we reach the next island,” he promised, his voice firm.

And holy hell, did Rosinante get time with Law. Since both the Polar Tang and the Silence docked, they were inseparable. Archer felt the absence of Rosi like a weight, only catching glimpses of him at night when they’d finally settle down. But he understood; it had been years since they last saw each other, and Law had thought Rosi was dead. So, Archer sucked it up.

To fill the void, he spent time with Raya, Giles, and Timble, sharing laughs and lighthearted banter. Yet, no matter how fun it was, Archer still missed Rosinante.

In search of distraction, he turned to reading, borrowing books from Giles. It was surprisingly relaxing. Sitting on the deck of the Silence, with his dreaded reading glasses perched on his nose, Archer found solace in losing himself in a good book.

One night, Archer sat at the desk in their cabin, penning letters to Luffy and Ace. He hoped his sons weren’t causing too much trouble, imagining their usual antics with a mix of fondness and exasperation.

Suddenly, the door creaked open, and a tipsy Rosinante stumbled in, nearly losing his balance. He threw himself onto the bed with a dramatic flop, a wide grin plastered across his face. Archer couldn’t help but smile at the sight.

“Hey, Rosi,” Archer called, getting up to help him. He knelt down, working to pull off Rosinante’s boots. As he did, Rosi mumbled something incomprehensible, laughter lacing his words.

“What was that?” Archer chuckled, shaking his head.

Rosinante just giggled, clearly lost in his own world. Archer sighed, a fond exasperation warming his heart. After finally getting Rosi’s boots off, he blew out the candle, plunging the room into soft darkness.

As days passed, the crew began to notice the growing distance between Archer and Rosinante. Archer felt it too; Rosi was always with Law, leaving Archer to occupy himself with the others.

One evening, while they sat around the table, Raya leaned in closer, her expression serious. “Hey, are you and Rosi okay?”

Archer nodded, brushing off her concern. “Yeah, I just... I don’t want to pull him away from Law. They’ve been through a lot.”

Raya stared at him as if he’d just declared he wanted to swim with sharks. “You’re being an idiot,” she finally said. “Set up a dinner date on the ship tomorrow night! I’ll make sure Giles and Timble stay away.”

Archer’s eyes lit up, a grin breaking across his face. “That’s a good idea!”

He could already picture the two of them enjoying a quiet evening together, away from the chaos

Archer and Raya quickly fell into planning mode. “I’ll whip up something special, and I’ll set the table nice,” she said, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “You just need to show up before Rosi.”

Archer nodded eagerly, feeling a rush of anticipation. Later that night, when Rosinante returned, Archer feigned casualness as he leaned against the doorframe.

“Hey, do you have any plans for tomorrow evening?” Archer asked, trying to keep his tone light.

Rosinante flashed him a grin, his eyes bright. “No, nothing at all”

“Good! Meet me on the deck at 8 PM,” Archer replied, a smirk creeping onto his face.

“Okay,” Rosi said, his curiosity piqued, but Archer just shrugged, trying to play it cool.

As Rosinante headed to the cabin, Archer felt a giddy excitement building. This was going to be perfect.

The next night, Archer stood on the deck, his heart racing with anticipation. Shit, he missed his lover. Tonight was supposed to be their time to reconnect, to catch up after all the chaos.

But as the hours ticked by, Rosinante never appeared. The food sat untouched, growing cold, and the candles flickered weakly, casting long shadows across the deck.

With each passing minute, Archer’s hope dimmed. It was so out of character for Rosi to just leave him hanging. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he let out a heavy sigh.

“I can’t believe this,” he muttered to himself, frustration bubbling up. He felt the sting of tears forming in his eyes, but he swallowed hard, refusing to let them fall. He threw the food away, the effort he had put into the evening feeling wasted.

Climbing into bed, he allowed the tears to spill over, silent sobs wracking his body. He’d never admit it to anyone, but he was hurt—deeply. The weight of disappointment pressed down on him as he curled up, longing for the warmth of Rosinante beside him.

In the early hours of the morning, Archer stirred as Rosinante stumbled into the cabin, the familiar scent of alcohol wafting off him. Archer lay stiff as Rosi crawled into bed, his heart racing—not from excitement, but from a mix of anger and hurt.

Rosinante tried to drape his arm over Archer, but Archer instinctively pulled away, tension radiating from him. How could Rosi think it was okay to act like nothing had happened? They’d spent almost twelve years together, raising two kids, building a life, only for Rosinante to stand him up without so much as an explanation.

Archer swung his legs over the side of the bed, heart pounding with frustration. He quickly pulled on his pants and gathered his pillow and blanket, moving deliberately to keep his anger in check.

“What’s wrong?” Rosinante asked.

Archer scoffed, shaking his head. “You’re an asshole,” he snapped, not bothering to look back as he stormed out of the cabin.

He didn’t care if Rosi heard the door slam behind him. As he made his way up to the crow’s nest, he felt a mix of hurt and rage. Fuck him, Archer thought bitterly. He needed space, time to sort through the whirlwind of emotions that threatened to consume him.

Settling into the crow’s nest, he wrapped himself in his blanket, staring out at the vast ocean. The stars twinkled above, indifferent to his pain, but at least here, he could breathe.

The next morning, Archer trudged through the ship, still feeling the weight of disappointment on his shoulders. As he made his way toward the Galley, Raya spotted him and called out, “Hey! How did the date go?”

Archer glanced at her, an annoyed expression crossing his face. “What date?” he replied flatly, trying to suppress the swell of frustration rising within him.

Raya frowned, her brows knitting together. “The dinner you planned with Rosi! How did it go?”

He let out a humorless laugh, shaking his head. “Yeah, great. Just great.”

What a bitch he was, he thought. Crying over being stood up by Rosinante. Ugh. Archer quickened his pace, eager to escape the conversation.

Inside the galley, Rosinante sat nursing a cup of tea, the morning light filtering through the windows. When Archer stormed in, Rosi looked up, surprise etched on his face. “Why did you leave last night?” he asked, concern lacing his voice.

Archer, unable to contain his emotions any longer, slammed the door shut behind him, the sound echoing through the small room. “Why did I leave? Seriously? You have to ask?” he shouted, anger spilling over.

“We had a date! I waited for hours, Rosi! Hours!” His voice cracked, the hurt pouring out. “I haven’t seen you in days unless you stumbled into our cabin drunk! Is that all I am to you?”

Rosinante opened his mouth to respond, but Archer cut him off, frustration boiling over. “If you want to break up with me, just do me the favor and say it! Why the hell do you think it’s okay to treat me like this?”

Archer’s breath hitched as he finished his rant, tears spilling down his cheeks. He was tired of feeling this way, tired of the confusion. Not wanting to hear whatever excuse Rosinante might offer, he turned on his heel, storming out of the galley.

“Archer, wait!” Rosi called after him, but Archer didn’t stop. He needed to escape, to find some peace in the crow’s nest, away from the mess of emotions swirling inside him.

Once inside the crow’s nest, Archer curled up, hugging his knees tightly as fat tears streamed down his cheeks. The quietness of the space contrasted sharply with the turmoil inside him. He could hear Rosinante knocking softly on the little door below, his voice calling out, “Please let me in, Archer.”

But Archer remained silent, his heart pounding in his chest. He didn’t want to face him. After a moment, Rosinante’s voice broke through again, softer this time. “I’m sorry... I love you.”

Archer’s response came out like a growl. “Fuck off!” The words hung in the air, heavy with pain and anger.

He listened as Rosinante’s footsteps faded, the knocking ceasing. Good, stupid fucker, Archer thought bitterly. Maybe now he could find some semblance of peace, even if it was just for a moment.

Once the tears stopped, Archer took a deep breath, wiping his face with the back of his hand. He was done hiding. He was the Golden Terror, the fear of Marines, Co-Captain of the Roaring Pirates and the Silence. There was no way in hell he would hide away like a teenage girl nursing a broken heart.

Archer stood up, straightening his back. He needed to face this head-on.

Walking into their cabin, Archer’s gaze immediately found Rosinante sitting on the floor, staring at the door he had just entered. As soon as Archer opened it, Rosi stumbled to his feet, his eyes wide. “Archer,” he whispered, almost as if in disbelief.

“What?” Archer replied sharply, crossing his arms.

Rosinante took a deep breath, his expression shifting from shock to regret. “I’m sorry... I forgot. Law and I just... we had a couple of beers while making plans.”

At that, Archer’s brow furrowed. “What plans?”

Sheepishly, Rosinante explained, “We’ve been talking about a plan to take down Doffy. That’s what we’ve been doing this past week.”

If Archer had been angry before, now he was furious. A coldness settled over him as he narrowed his eyes. “Why wasn’t I informed? Why wasn’t I involved in the planning? Do you think I am deadweight?”

The words poured out like venom, and he could see the color drain from Rosinante’s face with each accusation.

“Archer, I—”

“Don’t! Just don’t!” Archer snapped, the betrayal stinging sharper than any physical blow.

Archer stepped closer, his voice low and simmering with anger. “I don’t want to hear your excuses, Rosi. If you and Law are going to take down your brother all on your own, then be my guest.”

Rosinante’s eyes widened, a mix of surprise and hurt flashing across his face. “Archer, you don’t understand—”

“No, I understand perfectly,” Archer interrupted, his tone icy. “You’ve made it clear where I stand in all of this.”

“Please, just listen to me,” Rosinante pleaded, desperation creeping into his voice.

Archer scoffed, crossing his arms. “Why the fuck would I do that?”

“Because I—”

“Let me explain something to you,” Archer interrupted, his voice sharp. “I didn’t say anything about your absence at first because you just found Law. I didn’t want to intrude on your time together. But this? You stood me up! You promised you would come, and instead, you’re making plans to take down a Warlord without even telling me?”

His heart pounded in his chest, and the hurt spilled over. “It’s too much, Rosi. I’m fucking hurt. I thought I meant more to you than this.”

Archer's voice trembled, the weight of his emotions crashing down on him like a tidal wave.

Rosinante took a deep breath, his expression earnest. “Archer, I forgot because... Law is really secretive. I didn’t want to break his trust, especially after just finding him again.”

Archer shook his head, frustration boiling over. “What about my trust in you, Rosi? Right now, I trust Raya with a bottle of rum and a lit match more than I trust you.”

The words hung in the air, harsh and unforgiving. Archer felt a pang of regret after saying it, but the anger still surged within him. It was hard to see beyond the hurt, and he needed Rosinante to understand just how betrayed he felt.

With a heavy heart, Archer turned away from Rosinante and climbed into bed, pulling the covers over him as if they could shield him from the pain. He lay there, back turned, tears slipping down his cheeks once more. Stupid shit, he thought bitterly, feeling both helpless and angry at himself for still caring so much.

Archer could feel Rosinante slip into bed beside him, the weight of his presence palpable in the quiet room. He didn’t say anything, too tired—both physically and emotionally—to engage in another round of conversation.

He could sense Rosinante's eyes boring into his back, searching for a response, but Archer kept his gaze fixed on the wall.

“I'm so sorry,” Rosinante finally said, his voice thick with emotion. “I love you so fucking much.”

But Archer chose not to reply.

Rosinante placed a tentative hand on Archer’s shoulder, warmth radiating from his touch. Archer silently debated whether to shrug it off, but he lay there stiff, his entire posture like a rock. He was sure Rosinante could feel the tension rolling off him in waves.

“I’ll make it up to you,” Rosinante said softly, his voice filled with determination. “No matter what it takes or how long it takes.”

Archer didn’t respond, the words sinking into the silence like stones. He remained unmoving, lost in a mix of anger and lingering affection, unsure of what “making it up” would even look like anymore.

Chapter Text

Archer rubbed his eyes as he stood by the galley counter, fingers wrapped around the warm cup of coffee in his hand. He hadn't slept, not really. His mind had spun in circles all night, replaying the fight with Rosinante. They’d fought before—it would be unnatural if they hadn’t after all these years together—but never like this. This time felt... different, heavier.

He stared into his coffee, trying to make sense of it all, when the door creaked open. Law slipped into the galley, his usual guarded expression in place.

Archer glanced at him briefly before returning his focus to the cup in front of him.

“Morning,” Law said, his voice low as always.

Archer smiled at Law, though he knew he looked like shit. His hair was a mess, dark bags sagged under his eyes, and the stubble on his face hadn’t seen a razor in days. Still, he managed a tired grin.

"Are you hungry?" Archer asked, voice softer now. It wasn’t Law’s fault that Rosinante was being an idiot.

Law hesitated, then nodded, his expression uncertain.

Archer turned to the stove, cracking a few eggs into a pan and frying up some bacon, the sizzling filling the silence between them. He chopped up some fruit on the side, making a quick, simple meal. When it was ready, he handed the plate to Law, eyeing him with a grin.

“Rosi told me you don’t like bread,” Archer said, nodding at the fruit. “So, I figured you’d prefer this instead.”

Law blinked, caught off guard by the gesture. "Thank you," he whispered, barely audible.

Archer reached out and ruffled Law's hair, the same way he used to with Ace and Luffy. “No problem, kid. Eat up.”

Law didn’t say anything else, but there was a flicker of something—maybe relief?—in his eyes as he dug into the food. Archer sat back, sipping his now-cold coffee, lost in thought

For a few minutes, the only sound in the galley was the quiet clinking of Law's fork against his plate. Archer sat across from him, sipping his now-cold coffee, lost in his thoughts. When Law finished eating, he pushed his plate aside and stared down at the table, fidgeting slightly.

Then, in a low voice, Law asked, "Why did you save Cora-san all those years ago?"

Archer let out a long sigh, running a hand through his messy hair. That was a heavy question, one he’d been half-expecting but still wasn’t quite prepared to answer. He placed his cup down, leaning back in his chair, staring at the ceiling for a moment before turning his gaze back to Law.

“What do you remember from that day, kid?” Archer asked, his tone gentle, but his eyes were serious.

Law’s fingers tightened around the edge of the table. His voice was small when he replied, "We... we were running from Doflamingo and his men. Cora… he was shot. A lot of times." He paused, swallowing hard. "The last thing I saw before I used my powers to teleport away... was a giant bear mauling Doflamingo."

Archer chuckled darkly, shaking his head. "That 'bear' was me."

Law blinked, his expression shifting between confusion and realization. Archer leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table.

“Rosi was dying, Law. He was bleeding out right there. Doflamingo had left him for dead, didn’t even think twice about it. And when I saw what happend, I—I just lost it. I didn’t think, I just… reacted,” Archer said, his voice low, his golden eyes hard as he stared off, reliving the memory. "I don't even remember half of it. Just the rage."

Law stayed silent, watching Archer carefully, processing what he had just heard.

"Why did I save him?" Archer continued, a bitter smile tugging at his lips. "Because I couldn’t let a handsome man, daring enough to be wearing a fucking feather boa die."

Law’s hands trembled slightly as he absorbed Archer’s words. The room felt heavy with everything left unsaid.

“So… you fought Doflamingo?” Law asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Archer smirked, though there was no humor in it. “Fought? No, kid. I didn’t fight him. I bit his damn hand off.”

Law’s eyes widened; his mouth slightly agape.

“Yeah. That’s right. Mauled him like a wild animal. And I’d do it again if I had to,” Archer added, his voice sharp. He let out another sigh, rubbing his face. "But that’s not what matters. What matters is that Rosi survived. He made it. And so did you."

The silence stretched between them once more, but this time it wasn’t awkward. It felt like Law was turning over every piece of this puzzle, trying to fit it all together.

Archer softened his voice. “Look, Law. I know you're angry, confused... but Rosi did everything to keep you safe. You both went through hell. And I'd go through it all again for him... and for you, if it came down to it."

Law didn't respond immediately, but there was a flicker of understanding in his eyes. A nod, barely perceptible, but enough to show that he heard Archer loud and clear.

Archer stood up from his seat, stretching his arms above his head until his joints popped. He rolled his neck, trying to shake off the weight of the conversation and the restless night before. Looking down at Law, who was still sitting quietly, Archer gave him a crooked smile.

“Lighten up a little, will ya?" Archer said, his voice taking on a playful edge. "Smile once in a while. It's not gonna kill you."

Before Law could respond, Archer reached out and ruffled his hair again, much to Law’s obvious annoyance. Law swatted his hand away with a frown, but Archer could see the faintest hint of a smile tugging at the corners of the young man's mouth.

Satisfied, Archer chuckled. “There it is. You’ll get the hang of it.”

With that, he turned and headed out of the galley, calling over his shoulder, “I’m hitting the shower. Try not to mope too much while I’m gone, alright?”

As he walked away, Archer felt the tension ease from his shoulders, though his thoughts still lingered on the unresolved mess with Rosinante. He knew they'd need to talk again, but for now, a hot shower sounded like the best way to wash off the weight of everything.

A couple of hours later, Archer found himself sitting in the galley once again, this time nose-deep in another one of Giles' books—Noland the Liar. It was... okay. Not the most riveting read, but it helped take his mind off things. He absentmindedly pushed his glasses up his nose, settling back into his chair as he tried to let the words distract him. All day, Rosinante had been hovering, trying to talk to him. But Archer wasn’t ready. He knew if they started talking, he’d lose his temper again. It wasn’t the right time for that.

So instead, he focused on the book, or at least tried to, when he felt a small tug at his sleeve.

Looking down, Archer saw Timble standing beside him, looking sheepish as always. The sight of the little guy made him smile softly, despite everything swirling in his head. “What’s up, Timble?” Archer asked gently.

Timble fidgeted with his hands, glancing up at Archer through his shaggy hair. “Have you seen Rosinante? He promised me he’d help me get some strawberries… but I can’t find him.”

Archer paused, his jaw tightening for a moment. He kept his voice neutral. “Isn’t Rosi with Law?”

Timble shook his head, clearly disappointed. “No... I looked.”

Sighing, Archer rubbed the back of his neck. He didn’t need another reminder that Rosinante wasn’t keeping his promises, not even to the crew. But he pushed the bitterness aside for Timble’s sake. Smiling softly, he leaned down a little. “Alright, I’ll take you. Let’s go get those strawberries.”

Timble’s face lit up with a grin, and without hesitation, he jumped into Archer’s breast pocket with a gleeful “Yay!” Archer chuckled, patting the little guy’s head as he stood up, ready to head out.

Walking down the bustling streets of the market, Archer couldn’t help but laugh as Timble recounted a recent prank he and Raya had pulled. Apparently, they’d managed to sneak into the Polar Tang while Penguin and Shachi were distracted and itching powder all over their clothes. The result? Both men running almost naked out of the Polar Tang in a panic, trying to find something to wear before anyone saw them.

“And then, Penguin tripped over the pile of clothes we left for him!” Timble said, giggling from his spot in Archer’s breast pocket. “He fell right into the bucket of fish Giles was cleaning. You should’ve seen their faces!”

Archer shook his head, grinning widely. “You little menaces. I’m surprised they haven’t locked you and Raya in the brig after that one.”

Timble beamed proudly, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Raya says we’re too clever for that.”

As they neared the fruit stand, Archer suddenly realized he still had his reading glasses on. "Ugh," he muttered under his breath, pushing them up into his messy hair, feeling a little ridiculous. But as soon as they reached the stand, Timble practically leaped out of Archer's pocket, his eyes lighting up at the sight of the strawberries.

Timble was in heaven, picking each strawberry carefully, inspecting them like a seasoned fruit connoisseur. He held them up to the light, gave them a sniff, and then gingerly placed them in the small basket Archer had grabbed for him. The process was... slow, to say the least.

Archer leaned against the counter, arms crossed, watching with a half-smile. Timble took his sweet time, but Archer found it oddly relaxing.

The fruit seller, however, did not.

The man sighed loudly, his impatience showing. He shot Timble an irritated glance as if he was thinking of hurrying him up. That was all it took to flip Archer’s switch.

With a glare sharp enough to cut steel, Archer fixed his eyes on the seller. The intensity behind his gaze, those golden, dangerous eyes staring daggers, made the man freeze mid-grumble. His face paled slightly as he realized who he was dealing with. He quickly straightened up; his previous irritation replaced with nervous compliance.

Satisfied that the man had gotten the message, Archer leaned back against the counter again, his mood unchanged. "Take your time, Timble," he said softly. "We’re in no rush."

Timble, oblivious to the tension, grinned and continued his careful selection, humming happily to himself.

With a bag full of the best strawberries Archer’s poker winnings could buy, he figured they deserved a little snack for all their "hard work." It was nearly evening anyway, so what was the harm? Plus, it conveniently meant he could avoid returning to the Silence and facing Rosinante’s inevitable puppy eyes—at least for a bit longer.

Walking into a nearby bar, Archer ordered a hearty meal and a cold beer for himself, and for Timble, a tiny cup of milk. The bartender had raised an eyebrow when Archer asked for the milk, but seeing the little guy perched in his pocket, the bartender complied without question.

Settling down at a table in the corner, Archer kicked back and let himself relax for the first time all day. Timble eagerly dug into his food, tiny hands gripping his fork like it was a sword. Archer couldn’t help but smile as the little guy tried to use both hands to pick up his cup of milk, sloshing it around messily before managing a triumphant sip.

They were having a good time, cracking jokes and talking about everything from Timble’s next prank idea to the absolute chaos that was Penguin and Shachi’s misadventure thanks to him and Raya. It was the first time Archer laughed genuinely since his fight with Rosinante, and he almost forgot about the mess waiting back on the ship.

Almost.

As the sky outside darkened, Archer glanced at the clock on the bar’s wall and realized how late it was getting. He sighed, leaning back in his chair and nursing the last of his beer. "Guess we should head back before Rosi sends out a search party."

Timble, finishing his milk, pouted but nodded. "Yeah, I guess."

Archer smiled softly, ruffling the little guy’s hair. "Don’t worry. We’ll find more snacks later. But for now, let's get these strawberries back to the ship."

Timble grinned, looking down at the precious bag of fruit they’d worked so hard to gather.

After walking for a while, Archer couldn’t shake the feeling he’d pulled a Zoro and gotten hopelessly lost. Even Timble, who was usually so eager, was looking around with wide eyes, clearly unsure of their surroundings. Just when Archer thought he might have to admit defeat, they ended up in a blind alley, and that was it. He had enough.

“I’m climbing that wall,” he muttered to himself, sizing it up as a potential escape route. He needed a better vantage point to find the harbor. Just as he was about to grab hold of the rough stones, a voice called out from behind him.

“Hey! We’ve been looking for Trafalgar D. Law, tell us where he is!”

Archer turned to see a group of brutes standing there, all muscle and menace, and his stomach dropped. This wasn’t good. He sized them up, calculating the odds. Sure, they were intimidating, but he’d handled worse.

“Who the fuck are you?” Archer shot back, crossing his arms defiantly. “And why the hell are you after him?”

One of the thugs, a burly guy with a cruel grin, laughed. “A hand for a hand,” he said, and that made Archer’s blood run cold.

Doflamingo. Of all the times to get tangled up with him again.

“Why now?” Archer asked, trying to keep his tone casual, even though his heart was racing. “You’d think the pink peacock want to do this himself.”

In a low voice, he gently whispered to Timble, “Run. Find the others and stay safe.” He watched as the little guy disappeared into the shadows, relief flooding over him.

While Archer was distracted, watching Timble flee into the shadows, something hard struck him in the shoulder. He staggered back, pain flaring through him, and looked down to see a short spear sticking out of his shoulder.

“Sitshit, fuck,” he gasped, falling to his knees. The thug stepped closer, laughing cruelly. “Doflamingo informed us you were a Devil Fruit user,” he taunted, grinning widely. “He had this specially made for you—sea stone. Nice, right? Keeps you nice and helpless.”

Archer’s heart sank. That explained why his limbs felt like lead. He cursed under his breath. “Just great,” he muttered, trying to push through the pain and think clearly.

The thug leaned down, eyes glinting with malice. “We’re going to have some fun, you know. I think we’ll enjoy watching you squirm.”

With those words, the thug twisted the spear deeper into Archer's shoulder, a jolt of agony shooting through him. Archer screamed, the sound raw and desperate. Pain radiated from his wound, but he clenched his jaw, refusing to plead for mercy.

The thugs wasted no time; they surrounded him, fists raining down like a storm. Archer fought to keep his head clear, counting the blows, but the world around him began to blur. He focused on staying conscious, on not giving them the satisfaction of seeing him break.

But then, the leader stepped forward, a malicious grin spreading across his face as he pulled out a large saw. “This is going to be fun,” he taunted, eyeing Archer like a butcher inspecting his meat. “Doflamingo wants proof, and I’m more than happy to deliver.”

As the saw glinted in the dim light, dread filled Archer. He had faced countless dangers before, but this? This was different. He couldn’t let them win.

The leader lowered the saw, the teeth glinting ominously. Archer’s vision started to darken, the pain overwhelming his senses. He thought of Rosinante and the boys—Ace, Luffy, and now Law—wondering if they would be okay without him, and that he perhaps would see Sabo again? And Rouge.

It had been a good run, hadn’t it? The laughter, the adventures, the love. Just when he felt the darkness closing in, he thought of Rosinante’s smile and how he’d give anything to see it just one last time.

And then, just like that, everything faded to black.

Chapter Text

The afterlife was not what Archer had expected.

He blinked—or at least thought he blinked—but the darkness remained, heavy and oppressive. First of all, the pain—wasn’t that supposed to disappear? His old teacher back on Baterilla had gone on and on about how death brought peace and freedom from all earthly suffering. Maybe that guy had been full of shit because Archer still felt it, every sharp, burning ache from his shoulder, the dull throbbing in his ribs, his hand and the unmistakable taste of blood in his mouth.

Second, the noise. Hadn’t death been pitched to him as some sort of serene void? A place where the soul could rest? Instead, he heard fragmented sounds—yelling, hurried footsteps, voices overlapping, something about a hand, a spear, bodies, and broken ribs. The chaos grated on him like nails on a chalkboard.

Then there was the weirdest part—he could’ve sworn he heard Rosinante’s voice. Somewhere distant, like a faint echo carried on a breeze, calling his name. That warm, familiar tone panicked and desperate. But that couldn’t be right. Rosinante was alive—Archer was sure of it. So why did it feel like he could hear him now, calling out through the haze?

Archer scoffed, or at least he thought he did. Weird shit.

His mind felt detached, floating somewhere between nothingness and something strange—an odd in-between. The pain ebbed, but he was still aware of it, like a low-level hum under everything. Was this it? Was this death? Because if so, it sucked. He thought of the last few moments—Doflamingo’s goons, the spear, that bastard twisting it, the sickening crunch of his bones under their fists, and finally, the saw.

And then… nothing.

Or not quite nothing. There was Rosinante again. Closer this time. The voice had sharpened, frantic now.

"Archer, stay with me! Please!"

What the hell was he talking about? Wasn't Archer dead? The noise intensified, voices blending together until one cut through the rest—Rosi’s voice, so loud and clear that it jolted Archer. Was that really him?

"Dammit, Archer! Don’t you dare die on me!"

Something stirred inside Archer. A deep instinct, a pull, like a rope tied to his chest, tugging him toward that voice. He fought it at first, wanting to let go, to sink deeper into this black void. It would be so easy to slip away. But then, that voice—Rosinante’s—kept pulling, and with it came flashes of memories.

Rosi laughing. Rosi complaining about gray hairs. Rosi kissing his forehead at night. Rosi standing him up.

“You idiot,” Archer thought, annoyed. If this really was the afterlife, why couldn’t he get five minutes of peace without hearing shit?

But the pull grew stronger. He could feel his body again, heavy, achy, and so damn tired. The darkness started to lift, though, not like waking up, but more like clawing his way back to consciousness. Pain shot through him, sharp and immediate, as his mind slowly pieced things together.

He wasn’t dead.

Or at least, not yet.

Through the haze of agony and confusion, Archer realized where he was—or rather, what he was lying on. Hard ground. Cold. Rough. His eyes fluttered open, but only briefly, met with blinding light and blurry faces. The noise was clearer now, voices overlapping, too fast for him to follow.

And then there he was, Rosinante, leaning over him, real and alive, his face twisted in fear and panic. His hands pressed against Archer’s chest, trying to stop the bleeding.

"Come on, Archer," Rosinante pleaded, his voice cracking. "Just stay awake, alright? Help’s coming."

Arching up through the waves of pain, Archer managed a crooked smile, his lips barely moving. Why the hell was he smiling? He felt like crap. His body was broken, and the bastard had nearly sawn his hand off. But somehow, seeing Rosinante panicking over him made him feel... lighter.

"I’m... not dead yet, you... idiot,” he muttered weakly, his voice raspy and barely audible. It took all his strength just to get the words out.

Rosinante’s face flickered with a brief, fragile smile, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Yeah, well... let’s keep it that way, huh?”

Archer would’ve chuckled, but it hurt too damn much. Instead, he just focused on breathing, on the sound of Rosi’s voice—soothing, though laced with fear—and the undeniable fact that, despite everything, despite the saw, the spear, and the thugs—

He wasn’t ready to die yet.

When Archer woke up, the room was pitch-black. His first instinct was to move, but his body quickly reminded him that wasn’t going to happen. He felt bandages wrapped tight across his chest, his shoulder, and pretty much everywhere else. And the pain—it was a dull, throbbing burn that flared up with every shallow breath. Even the act of trying to shift in place sent shocks of agony through his ribs.

Great. Just great.

He blinked, trying to adjust to the darkness, but it was useless. He couldn’t see a damn thing. The only light came from a faint glow beneath the door—a small, weak line that barely illuminated anything in the room. It could’ve been a broom closet for all he knew.

His mouth felt dry, his throat like sandpaper. Where the hell was he? He wanted to call out, to yell for anyone nearby—Rosinante, Law, Timble, anyone—but when he tried to speak, nothing came out. Not even a whisper.

Panic stirred in his chest for a brief second. Why couldn’t he talk? He forced himself to breathe slowly, the pain forcing him to take shallow breaths. It took a moment for the fear to settle down, though he felt the tight grip of helplessness clinging to him. He hated it. Hated being stuck like this, unable to move, speak, or do anything.

He wasn’t dead, clearly. But he wasn’t exactly feeling alive either.

“Where the hell am I?” he thought to himself, frustration building.

Archer’s head lolled to the side as he tried to make out shapes in the dark, but all he could do was feel the stiff bandages crisscrossing his body and the sharp sting where they pressed too tight against his wounds. He blinked again, willing his eyes to adjust, but still... nothing.

Not willing to lay there helplessly, Archer gritted his teeth and summoned every bit of stubbornness he had left. He tried to roll over, ignoring the screaming protests of his body. Come on, move, dammit! With a rough grunt, he managed to shift his weight, slowly tipping himself over the edge of the bed.

It actually worked—for about two seconds.

Then gravity took over.

He hit the floor with a dull thud, his body crashing awkwardly onto the cold hard flor. The shock of the fall sent a fresh wave of pain ripping through him, and Archer cursed silently. Bad, bad, bad idea. Every nerve screamed at him, reminding him just how messed up he was. The room spun wildly, and Archer felt like the floor was swallowing him whole.

Shit... he was an idiot.

The pain was too much. His vision blurred, and just as darkness started to creep in around the edges of his mind, he heard the door burst open.

“Archer!”

Footsteps rushed toward him, someone dropping to their knees by his side. The voice was frantic, panicked—Rosinante, of course. His name echoed through the fog in Archer’s brain, but before he could even register what was happening, his body gave up on him again.

The last thing Archer felt was a pair of hands grabbing his arm, shaking him gently, and then the darkness claimed him once more.

When Archer woke again, there was light—a small, flickering candle on the bedside table casting a soft glow over the room. He blinked slowly; his mind foggy but more aware this time. He recognized the space, the infirmary aboard the Silence.

A familiar weight rested on his thigh, and when he glanced down, he saw Rosinante sleeping by his bedside, head resting on his arms. One of Rosi’s hands was gently gripping Archer’s own, holding on like his life depended on it.

Rosi looked exhausted. There were deep bags under his eyes, and his usually messy blond hair was even more disheveled than usual. Archer sighed softly. He looked like hell too, probably worse than Rosi. But despite everything, there was something comforting about seeing him here, slumped over and not leaving his side.

He decided to try something. Slowly, with all the effort he could muster, Archer moved his hand. Come on… just move. It shook and ached, but he managed. Victory.

With trembling fingers, he reached out and placed his hand on Rosinante’s head, gently running his fingers through that messy blond hair. It was familiar, calming. Rosi stirred at the touch, and for a moment, Archer wondered if he’d wake up. Sure enough, Rosinante’s eyelids fluttered, and he groggily lifted his head, blinking at Archer.

“Archer…” Rosi whispered his name like it was something amazing, something he hadn’t expected to hear. His voice cracked slightly, filled with relief and emotion.

Archer gave him the smallest, tired smile, his voice raspy but carrying all the weight of his feelings. “Hey”

Rosinante’s eyes welled with tears, still holding Archer’s hand tightly as if afraid to let go.

Of course, the first thing Archer managed to rasp out, after a few seconds of silence, was, "You look like shit."

Rosinante blinked at him, then gave Archer a deadpan stare, clearly unimpressed with the comment. Archer, completely unrepentant, gave a small smile in return, despite the exhaustion hanging over him like a weight.

Rosi let out a heavy sigh, but then his expression softened as he spoke. "I thought I was going to lose you," he began, his voice low, thick with emotion. "You were… you were so badly injured when we found you. I—" He broke off, his grip on Archer’s hand tightening as he tried to hold back the tremor in his voice.

Archer, ignoring the clear worry in Rosi’s voice, just looked at him with a raspy question. "What happened with the tugs? And did they find Timble?"

Rosi sighed again, this time more out of relief than exhaustion. "We were out looking for you and Timble when he came running to us, panicked out of his mind, telling us you were in trouble." Rosi paused, eyes darkening with the memory. "When we got there… the leader was halfway through sawing your hand off."

Archer winced, the memory rushing back, and he glanced at his hand instinctively, realizing how close he had been to losing it. “Bastards…” he muttered, shifting slightly in the bed, wincing at the ache that radiated through his entire body.

Rosi continued, his voice still shaky. "We took them out—none of those bastards are breathing anymore. But it was close, Archer… too close." He swallowed hard, his free hand moving to rest on top of Archer’s. "I thought… I really thought you were gone."

Archer just lay there, processing everything, his mind sluggish from the pain and exhaustion. Finally, he smirked a little through the pain. "Well… I guess it wasn’t my time yet. Gotta stick around a little longer to make sure you don’t look this terrible all the time."

Rosi let out a soft, breathy laugh, though his eyes still held the shadow of fear from almost losing him. "You idiot," he whispered, his thumb brushing over the back of Archer's hand gently. "I swear, you’re going to be the death of me."

"Yeah, yeah," Archer whispered back, his voice hoarse but carrying a trace of affection beneath the words.

Archer looked at Rosinante, narrowing his eyes slightly as a thought crossed his mind. "Wait… if that thug was halfway through sawing my hand off, then how the hell do I still have it? I mean, I know Raya’s good, but sewing a hand back on and making it work?" He scoffed, shaking his head lightly. "No way."

Rosi met his gaze, his expression softening a bit as he explained. "It wasn’t Raya. Law… saved your hand. Thanks to his devil fruit."

Archer blinked, caught off guard. "Law?" he repeated, clearly impressed. "Huh. Didn’t think the brat had it in him." He paused, then smirked, looking somewhat pleased. "So, one of our boys can do more than just cause chaos and destruction, huh? That’s 1 out of 3, but still, not bad."

Archer's eyelids felt heavy, the weight of exhaustion pulling him under. Just as he was about to let sleep claim him, a sudden memory hit him like a cold wave. The leader of the thugs… his words. Archer swallowed hard, forcing his body to cooperate as he whispered to Rosinante, his voice raspy and weak.

“They… they were looking for Law and me…”

Rosinante's eyes widened, his grip on Archer’s hand tightening. "What?"

“They tortured me for information… wanted to know where Law was.” Archer's breathing grew more labored as he fought to stay conscious. “I didn’t say anything. Would rather die than give him up."

Rosinante’s face paled, his expression one of horror and fury. “You—” he started, his voice shaking. But Archer wasn’t done yet.

“They said… it was about a hand for a hand and something about Law” Archer continued, his voice barely above a whisper now. “What I did back then, and whatever you and Law has planned… taking down Doflamingo… it’s coming home to roost.”

Rosinante’s heart pounded in his chest. His worst fears had been confirmed—Doflamingo was after them, after Law. The past was catching up with them faster than either of them had anticipated.

Before Rosinante could respond, Archer’s eyes fluttered shut. His body slumped, and with a final, almost inaudible breath, he whispered, “Sorry… I didn’t tell you sooner…”

And then, darkness claimed him once more.

Rosinante sat frozen, staring at Archer’s unconscious form, the weight of his words sinking in.

Recovery was a bitch. Really. Laying in the infirmary day after day was driving Archer absolutely nuts. He wasn’t used to being stuck in bed, especially not for this long. Every ache and throb in his body only reminded him how helpless he’d been, and he hated it. Still, there was some silver lining to his misery: the crew visited him every single day, keeping him company and giving him updates on whatever nonsense was happening aboard the Silence.

Even Law’s crew came by. Bepo, especially, had become a frequent guest, the giant polar bear almost always teary-eyed and asking if Archer was really okay.

"Are you sure you're fine, Archer? You looked so bad, and there was so much blood, and—"

"Bepo," Archer interrupted, trying to stifle a groan. "I'm fine. I’m not dead, am I?"

Bepo sniffled loudly, his big paws wiping at his eyes. "I just... I was so worried!"

Archer couldn’t help but smirk. The guy was cute, in a big, overly emotional way. "Bears gotta stick together, right?" he said with a wink.

That did it. Bepo burst into fat, happy tears, practically bawling with joy. “Y-Yeah! Bears together!”

Archer just sighed, chuckling under his breath. "You're something else, Bepo." He felt lighter somehow. It was nice, really—having these ridiculous moments in the middle of all the chaos.

One night, Law entered the room looking as gloomy as ever. Archer, who had been reading a book from Giles—this one far better than the last, considering the smut Raya had gifted him—put it down and smiled at Law.

“Hey, sit down. Stop hovering and for the love of all that’s holy, stop looking so constipated,” Archer teased, his tone light despite the heaviness in the air.

With a twitch in his eye, Law finally settled into a chair across from him, still staring with that intense gaze. Archer could feel the weight of Law's unspoken thoughts pressing against him.

“Why didn’t you give me up?” Law asked, his voice low and serious. “Why did you let yourself almost get killed for my sake?”

Archer’s smile faded as he met Law's intense stare. “Of course I didn’t give you up,” he replied, his voice steady. “You’re one of my brats, whether you like it or not. And let’s not forget that the tugs were after me, too.”

Law opened his mouth, perhaps to argue, but Archer cut him off. “So stop your moping. You’ve got enough on your plate without feeling bad about me. I would do it again if I had to.”

For a moment, there was silence. Archer could see the conflict in Law's eyes, the gratitude battling with guilt. It made him want to shake Law until he understood.

“You think you’re a burden?” Archer continued, softer this time. “You’re not. You’re family. And family looks out for each other. Simple as that.”

Archer leaned forward, his expression serious. “Back then, when I saved Rosinante, he was fleeing with a screaming you under his arm. He didn’t just save you; he made a promise. When he and I made our deal, we swore to find and protect you, just like he did with Ace, Luffy, and Sabo. So even all those years you’ve been alone, your family has been looking for you. Always.”

Law’s eyes widened as the weight of Archer’s words sank in. Tears gathered at the corners of his eyes, glistening in the dim light. “Thank you,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

Archer reached out, taking Law’s hand and giving it a reassuring squeeze. “You don’t need to thank me. This is what family does. We fight for each other.”

For a moment, they sat in silence, the gravity of their shared history settling between them. Archer could feel the tension in Law’s hand slowly dissipate, replaced by a warmth that felt almost like healing.

“Just remember, you’re never alone again,” Archer added, a soft smile breaking through the intensity. “Now, let’s get you back to the others. Bepo will worry if you’re gone too long.”

Law nodded, a tentative smile forming on his lips as he wiped his eyes. “Yeah, I think he would.”

Archer dragged himself back to their cabin, determination mixed with exhaustion. He hadn’t seen Rosinante much since his recovery, and the absence gnawed at him. They still needed to talk about the fight, and Archer was tired of avoiding it.

When he entered the cabin, it was empty. Confusion washed over him. “Where the hell is he?” he muttered, letting the door swing shut behind him. He scanned the room, his heart sinking as he took in the silence.

With a heavy sigh, Archer sat down on the bed, staring into the emptiness. He ran a hand through his hair, frustration bubbling up. They had faced so much together, yet here they were, stuck in this limbo. It felt like they were drifting apart, and he hated it.

After a while, the exhaustion overwhelmed him. He lay back on the bed, staring at the ceiling, his thoughts racing. As he drifted off to sleep, he felt the weight of their issues pressing down on him. He was so done with this silence, this distance.

Archer blinked against the dim light as Rosinante burst through the door, his expression a mix of panic and relief. "Archer! Where the hell have you been? I couldn’t find you in the infirmary!" His voice was frantic, and Archer could see the worry etched across his features.

Archer sat up slowly, crossing his arms as he met Rosi’s gaze with a steely look. "Impressive you even noticed I was gone," he replied, his tone sharp. "Given how little you’ve been around."

Rosi flinched at the words, and for a moment, the room was filled with tense silence. The anger and hurt bubbled just below the surface, and Archer could feel it threatening to spill over.

Archer took a deep breath, the weight of their unspoken distance pressing heavily on his chest. “This—this distance between us can’t go on any longer,” he said, his voice firm. “I’m done. If you don’t tell me the truth about what’s going on with you, I swear I’ll end things right here.”

Rosinante’s eyes widened, shimmering with unshed tears. “Archer, wait—”

“No, Rosi. Just listen.” Archer held his gaze, waiting for him to respond. “I need to know what’s happening, or we’re over.”

Rosinante faltered, words caught in his throat. Finally, he began to speak, his voice trembling. “I—I want to take down my brother. I thought if I kept you out of it, you’d be safe. I’m so sorry for not including you. I was just… afraid something would happen to you if news got out about our plan.”

Archer scoffed, crossing his arms. “You think keeping me in the dark is going to protect me? I got attacked without even knowing what was going on! I’m a grown-ass man, Rosi. I can stand up for myself.”

Rosinante’s expression crumpled, the guilt flooding his features. “I didn’t want to put you in danger! You mean everything to me, and the thought of losing you…” His voice cracked, and he looked down, struggling to keep himself together.

“Then don’t push me away!” Archer exclaimed, frustration mingling with desperation. “You’re not protecting me by shutting me out. You’re just making it worse. We’re supposed to face this together!”

“I know! I know, I just… I thought if I could handle this on my own, I could keep you safe,” Rosinante whispered, tears spilling over. “But I see now that I was wrong.”

Archer pulled back slightly. “If you think you can do this alone, then why the hell is Law involved? Are you going to involve Ace and Luffy too? Or is this some special privilege for Law only? You expect me, Luffy, and Ace to live in ignorance while you and our oldest sneak around?”

Rosinante’s expression faltered, guilt flooding his features. “I didn’t mean for it to come out like that. I just… I thought Law would understand better, given his history with Doflamingo.”

“That’s not the point!” Archer shot back, frustration bubbling over. “You can’t pick and choose who gets to know what’s going on! This affects all of us. We’re family, Rosi!”

Rosinante rubbed the back of his neck, clearly struggling with Archer’s words. “I just wanted to protect you all. I thought if I could handle this on my own, I wouldn’t drag you into the chaos.”

“Dammit, Rosi!” Archer shouted, his voice echoing in the cabin. “I’ve been a front player in this ever since that day I saved you! So why the hell would you ever think I wasn’t involved? It’s not like it’s a secret anymore that I’m the fucking Golden Terror!”

Rosinante flinched at the intensity of Archer's words, his eyes widening. “I didn’t—”

“You didn’t think!” Archer cut him off, frustration pouring out.

Rosinante’s voice cracked as tears streamed down his face. “I’m so, so sorry, Archer. I love you so much it hurts. When I saw you lying there, bleeding and broken, with that spear in your shoulder, my heart almost stopped.”

Archer softened at the raw emotion in Rosinante’s words, the fear that had fueled his partner’s actions finally making sense. “Rosi…” he started, but Rosinante pressed on.

“The reason I’ve been so absent is that I’ve been trying to find more agents working for Doflamingo. I didn’t want you to get attacked again,” he said, his voice trembling. “I thought if I could take out the threat, you’d be safe. But instead, I just pushed you away.”

Archer reached out, gently taking Rosinante’s trembling hands in his own. “You can’t protect me by shutting me out. We’re stronger together, remember? You don’t have to carry this burden alone.”

Rosinante nodded, the weight of his guilt still evident in his eyes. “I just didn’t want to lose you. I can’t… I can’t imagine a world without you in it.”

“I’m right here,” Archer said softly, squeezing Rosinante’s hands. “We’ll fight this together, just like we always have. But you need to let me in, Rosi. Promise me you’ll do that.”

“I promise,” Rosinante whispered, his voice breaking as he leaned forward, resting his forehead against Archer’s. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too,” Archer replied smiling.

As Rosinante lay down beside Archer, the tension that had filled the air began to dissipate. Archer nestled his head against Rosi’s shoulder, feeling the familiar warmth and comfort that had been absent for too long. They both closed their eyes, exhaustion overtaking them as they drifted into a peaceful sleep.

Chapter Text

Archer sat comfortably in his chair on the deck, the sea breeze lazily ruffling his hair as he took a long sip of his beer. Beside him, however, sat a much more uncomfortable Law, shifting awkwardly in his seat. Earlier, during a routine checkup, Archer had managed to browbeat the sullen surgeon into joining him for a drink and a break from his constant brooding. It had taken some convincing, but Law, ever stubborn, eventually gave in—though, judging by his stiff posture, the man wasn’t quite relaxed yet.

"See, this ain't so bad, right?" Archer grinned, taking another swig and leaning back, his golden eyes twinkling. "Sun’s out, breeze is good, beer’s cold. You’re gonna have to relax sooner or later."

Law grunted, his eyes flicking toward the beer in his hand like it was a foreign object. He hadn’t touched it yet, but Archer had seen those tense shoulders ease up just a fraction.

Yay, progress!

From the other side of the deck came muffled voices, drawing both men’s attention. Raya, Penguin, and Timble were huddled together, apparently trying to handle something delicate—if their hushed but increasingly exasperated tones were any indication.

“Push harder, woman! It’s not fitting!” Penguin’s voice, thick with frustration, cut through the air.

“I’m trying, but it’s stuck! Maybe a different position would help?” Raya snapped back, clearly irritated.

“I don’t think it fits at all. Maybe you need to—” Timble’s voice trailed off, sounding helpless.

Archer snorted, barely containing a laugh as he glanced over at Law, whose face was growing redder by the second. The longer the strange conversation continued, the more Law seemed to shrink into himself, looking like he’d prefer to be anywhere else but there.

"What are they doing?" Law muttered under his breath, his fingers twitching around the untouched beer.

“Oh, this is gold,” Archer chuckled, raising his drink in a mock toast. “Sounds like we’re about to hear something juicy.”

“You think they know we can hear them?” Law asked, his face a fascinating shade of crimson.

“Oh, absolutely not," Archer grinned, enjoying the flustered look on Law’s face. "But they will in a minute."

As if on cue, Raya let out a loud groan of frustration. "Ugh! Okay, fine, Penguin, just move your big ass over and let me handle it. I swear, if I hear one more word about ‘it not fitting,’ I’m throwing you both overboard!"

At that, Archer couldn’t hold back his laughter any longer, slapping his knee as Law’s expression became even more horrified.

“They’re... fixing something, right?” Law finally asked, looking both mortified and desperate for clarification.

“Who knows?” Archer shrugged with a mischievous grin, clearly enjoying the whole ordeal. “Could be. Could also be something way more interesting.” He winked, watching Law squirm in his seat, now practically radiating discomfort.

Archer was just about to take another sip of his beer when Rosinante’s voice sounded from behind them, warm and amused.

“Archer, are you tormenting our oldest brat again?” Rosi asked, his voice teasing as he stepped onto the deck.

At that, Law ducked his head, hiding a small smile.

“Of course I am!” Archer responded without missing a beat, grinning from ear to ear. “It’s good for him. Builds character.”

Rosinante shook his head, chuckling as he walked over, his long coat swaying behind him. “You’re incorrigible.”

Before Archer could come up with a clever retort, Penguin’s panicked voice interrupted from across the deck.

“Raya! Help me guide it in! I can’t control it anymore!”

The three of them froze.

It sounded dirty. Like really dirty.

Archer glanced at Law, whose face had gone a deep crimson. Rosinante wasn’t faring much better, his pale cheeks flushed pink as his mouth opened and closed like a fish trying to form words.

Archer, on the other hand, completely lost it. He doubled over, laughing so hard he nearly spilled his beer. It didn’t help when Giles’ voice bellowed from the galley, “Either use the oil or that thing’s gonna break in half!”

That was it. Archer was done for.

He wheezed, clutching his side as he laughed harder, even if his ribs hurt like a bitch, while Law buried his face in his hands, clearly mortified. Rosinante, despite his embarrassment, was grinning too, albeit shaking his head in disbelief at the chaos that unfolded before them.

Later that evening, it all came to light.

Archer had been lounging in the same chair, enjoying the quiet after the earlier chaos when he overheard the conversation. Raya, Penguin, and Timble had taken the sea stone spear that was used to stab him and attempted to break it up into tiny pieces. Their plan? To use the shards as spearheads for Timble, who had gleefully added that he wanted to “kill some fuckers” with them.

Feisty little guy, Archer thought with a smirk.

Rosinante, ever the concerned dad figure, turned to Raya with a raised brow. “Was this your idea?” he asked, his tone knowing. From past experiences, they’d learned that Raya had a knack for cooking up wild and questionable schemes.

But this time, she shook her head, holding her hands up defensively. “Nope, not me this time,” she said with a grin.

To everyone’s surprise, Timble and Bepo, of all people, admitted to being the brains behind the project. Bepo, who usually cried if someone even stubbed their toe, had somehow been roped into spear-smashing and was now proudly taking credit for it. Penguin, as expected, chimed in with his own two cents, “I’m just along for shits and giggles.” He paused, then shot a glance at Raya.

Archer didn’t miss the subtle look between Penguin and Raya and had to bite back a laugh.

Ah, so that’s what’s going on there, he thought with amusement.

Rosinante, rubbing his temples like he was suppressing a headache, sighed deeply. “So, let me get this straight... You’re all trying to break a sea stone weapon—one of the rarest materials in the world—into tiny spearheads...?”

Timble crossed his arms, defiantly staring up at Rosinante. “We handled it.”

Archer couldn’t help but chuckle at the defiant little dwarf. “You are badass” he said, leaning back with a grin.

Rosi sighed again, clearly trying to figure out what to even say to that, while Law—who had been silent through most of the revelation—looked at Timble with a newfound respect.

“Kill some fuckers, huh?” Law repeated quietly, a small, rare smirk forming on his lips.

Timble beamed with pride.

The next day arrived too quickly, and it was time to say goodbye to Law and his crew. They had lingered long enough, and the parting felt bittersweet. The goodbyes were lengthy, filled with hugs—even from Law. Archer couldn’t help but feel a surge of pride seeing his emotionally constipated oldest son give in and actually embrace everyone. Progress, he thought with a grin.

Bepo, with tears streaming down his face as usual, picked Archer up from the deck in a giant bear hug, lifting him clean off the ground. “We bears have to stick together!” Bepo declared, his voice thick with emotion.

Archer, trying not to look like he was about to choke from the strength of Bepo’s grip, managed to give him a pat on the back. “Damn right, Bepo! Just put me down before you break my spine.”

Bepo immediately released him, apologizing profusely, while the rest of the crew laughed.

Raya, ever the flirt, gave Penguin a wink that made him turn beet red, mumbling something incoherent under his breath while his crewmates ribbed him about it. Archer caught the look and couldn’t help but chuckle, already seeing where that was heading.

As the Polar Tang finally submerged beneath the waves, taking Law and his crew back into the depths of the Grand Line, Archer stood on the deck, hands on his hips, watching the submarine disappear into the distance.

“Well,” Archer said, turning back to the crew. “Where to next?”

Turns out, they didn’t need to discuss their next destination after all.

It started with an unexpected call from Chopper. Of all people, it had to be the little reindeer doctor, and the panic in his voice was enough to catch everyone’s attention. Archer had been lounging in his chair on the deck, enjoying the calm, when the call came in. Rosinante, who had been talking with Raya about something Archer wasn't really paying attention to, answered the transponder snail.

"Chopper? What’s going on?" Rosinante asked, his face immediately growing serious as the tiny voice on the other end came through.

The franticness in Chopper’s tone was unmistakable. “Rosi! The Straw Hats... we’re in Water 7! It’s bad! Really bad!”

Archer raised an eyebrow, sitting up straighter. He could already tell by the tone of this conversation that they were about to be pulled into something big. He didn’t mind, though. Anything involving Luffy usually meant a good fight, and that’s exactly what he needed right now.

“Slow down, Chopper,” Rosinante said, trying to calm the reindeer. “What’s happening? Why are you calling us?”

Chopper took a shaky breath. “Robin... Robin’s been captured by CP9. They’re taking her to Enies Lobby, and... and Luffy and Usopp had a big fight! Usopp left the crew, and—" Chopper’s voice cracked a little. “And the Going Merry… the ship… it’s done for.”

There was a moment of stunned silence. The Going Merry was Luffy’s first ship. The idea that it was "done for" hit hard. Even Archer, who wasn’t the sentimental type, felt a pang at hearing that.

Rosinante's jaw clenched. "CP9?" he repeated, his voice hardening. The infamous government assassins. This was serious.

Chopper’s voice trembled as he continued. “Rosi, I... I don’t know what to do! Luffy’s trying to go after Robin, but everything’s falling apart. Usopp’s gone, and we don’t even know if we can save Robin. I’m scared.”

Rosinante shared a glance with Archer, who was already on his feet, looking ready for action. The rest of the crew, having overheard, were gathering around, faces grim. Archer crossed his arms, his golden eyes narrowing as he watched Rosinante for the next move.

After hanging up with Chopper, Rosinante turned sharply, all business now. His voice carried across the deck as he barked out orders.

“Giles!” he called, his tone commanding. “Hoist the sails and figure out how far we are from Water 7. We need to move fast.”

Giles, always ready for action, gave a curt nod and bolted to the ship’s helm. The Silence lurched as the sails unfurled, catching the wind with a snap, and the ship began to pick up speed.

Next, Rosinante turned to Raya, who had already anticipated what was coming. “I need explosives,” he said, his voice low but deadly serious. “Big ones. And some poisons too. I’m not taking any chances with CP9.”

Raya grinned, cracking her knuckles. “You got it, Captain. I’ve been waiting for a chance to blow some government lackeys sky-high.”

Archer, meanwhile, was pacing the deck behind them, muttering under his breath. “Irresponsible brats… can’t leave them alone for five minutes without a fight breaking out or some government dogs getting involved… And now Usopp’s off doing god-knows-what, and I bet Luffy’s off measuring dicks with the world’s worst assassins!”

Rosinante had to suppress a smile as Archer’s ranting grew louder. He loved his partner, but when Archer got going, it was like trying to stop a hurricane.

Timble, standing nearby, was practically bouncing with excitement. Rosinante turned to the little dwarf and asked, “Timble, is your sea stone spear ready?”

Timble grinned, giving a firm nod. “It’s ready, Captain! Sharper than ever and ready to kill some fuckers!” he said with a wild gleam in his eyes.

“Good,” Rosinante said with satisfaction. “We might need it.”

As Archer continued his pacing and grumbling about “dick-measuring brats,” Rosinante walked over and clapped him on the shoulder. “Relax, Archer,” he said with a grin. “You’ll get your chance to put the fear of god into them soon enough.”

Archer shot him a look, still muttering, “Oh I will.”

Rosinante chuckled and gave him a squeeze on the arm before stepping away. He felt the same urgency as Archer, but he knew they had to stay focused. CP9 wasn’t just any enemy. They were dangerous, lethal, and well-trained.

That night, Archer couldn’t sleep. His mind was running wild with worry, and it gnawed at him, keeping him on edge. Those stupid brats. What the hell were they thinking?

Sitting on the kitchen counter in the galley, he lit another cigarette. The faint glow of the embers flickered in the dim light as smoke curled lazily into the air. He was already halfway through the pack, and at this point, he wasn’t even sure if he was inhaling out of habit or to keep himself grounded.

CP9.

The name stirred old memories—ugly ones. Archer had crossed paths with them once before, back when he was just a reckless 14-year-old raiding a Marine base in the South Blue. He thought he was invincible back then, a kid with too much fire in his veins and no concept of real danger. If it hadn’t been for a stupid slip—tripping over his own damn feet like a fool—he wouldn’t have lived to tell the tale. They would’ve killed him, no doubt about it.

And now? Now, his youngest brat and his idiot crew were heading straight for them, without a clue what they were truly up against. Luffy might be strong, but CP9 was no joke. Cold, ruthless, efficient killers.

Archer grimaced, the cigarette between his lips almost burning down to the filter. Absentmindedly, he started biting his nails, a habit he hadn’t broken since he was a kid. He only did it when he was truly worried—seriously worried.

He could still hear the soft creaking of the ship as it cut through the waves, heading toward Water 7 as fast as they could push her. The tension was thick, and despite the darkness and quiet that settled over the crew, Archer felt anything but calm.

What if they’re already too late?

His fingers twitched, the nail-biting intensifying as his mind raced through a thousand worst-case scenarios. What if CP9 already had Robin locked up? What if Luffy charged in without thinking—like he always did—and got himself captured or worse? What if they all ended up like him that day, broken, bleeding, and barely alive?

Archer’s stomach twisted painfully. He flicked the burned-out cigarette away and immediately lit another one, the orange glow of the lighter briefly illuminating his furrowed brow and the lines of worry etched deep into his face. He dragged a hand through his messy hair, groaning quietly.

“Those damn brats,” he muttered to himself, voice low. “Always getting themselves into shit they can’t handle…”

He sighed, eyes staring blankly ahead. He wished he could just storm into Water 7 right now, throw Luffy over his shoulder, and drag the Straw Hats away from this whole mess. But that wasn’t how it worked. They had to fight their own battles, no matter how much it twisted Archer’s gut to let them.

He glanced down at his shaking hand, annoyed with himself. CP9.

If they were anything like what he remembered, this wasn’t just a dangerous mission for Luffy and his crew. It was suicide.

Another long drag, another cloud of smoke. Stay calm. He had to stay calm. If not for himself, then for Rosi. For the crew. For those damn kids he couldn’t stop worrying about.

But damn, it was hard. Hard to just sit here, waiting, and not knowing what kind of hell they’d be walking into.

The silence in the galley was oppressive, broken only by the soft crackle of his cigarette and the occasional creak of the ship’s hull. Archer was alone with his thoughts, and they weren’t kind.

The memory of his own near-death at CP9’s hands haunted him. He couldn’t help but feel like history was about to repeat itself—but this time, he wasn’t the one in the crosshairs.

This time, it was Luffy.

And that scared him more than anything.

Archer was so lost in his own thoughts, the storm of worry swirling inside his head, that he didn’t even hear the soft footfalls of Rosinante entering the galley. It wasn’t until he felt the cigarette plucked from his lips that he snapped back to reality, blinking up in surprise. His hand, still mid-motion, froze in the air as he looked up at Rosinante, standing there with a mixture of concern and quiet understanding.

Archer’s chest tightened.

He swallowed hard, trying to keep his voice steady, but the words that came out were raw, unguarded. “I’m scared, Rosi… scared for Luffy and his crew.”

The vulnerability in his tone was something he rarely allowed himself to show, but tonight, under the weight of everything, it slipped out before he could stop it.

Rosinante didn’t say anything at first. He just bent down, cupping Archer’s face gently with one hand, his thumb brushing lightly against Archer’s cheek. Then, without warning, he kissed him deeply, a slow, lingering kiss that stole away all the tension, all the words Archer had been bottling up.

For a brief moment, everything else fell away—the fear, the uncertainty, the gnawing worry that had been eating at Archer for hours. It was just them.

When Rosinante finally pulled back, their foreheads rested against each other, breath mingling in the stillness of the galley.

“Archer…” Rosinante whispered, his voice soft but firm, as if grounding him. “We’ll find them. We’ll make sure they’re safe. But you can’t carry this all on your own.”

Archer let out a shaky breath, closing his eyes for a second, trying to absorb the calm that Rosinante radiated. But the knot in his chest wouldn’t fully loosen.

“I know, I just…” He trailed off, biting his lip, his voice strained. “I just keep thinking about CP9. What if we’re too late? What if—”

Rosinante pressed a finger to his lips, silencing him. “We won’t be too late,” he said firmly, though there was a flicker of something in his eyes. Worry, maybe. But beneath it, there was confidence. “We won’t let them go through this alone. Luffy’s strong, Archer. And so are you. We’ll figure this out, like we always do.”

Archer stared into Rosinante’s eyes, his own golden ones searching for reassurance, for something to hold onto amidst the chaos in his mind. After a moment, he exhaled deeply, resting his head on Rosinante’s chest, allowing himself to feel the warmth of his partner, the steady beat of his heart.

Then Rosinante moved swiftly, his tall, muscular frame effortlessly lifting Archer off the ground. Archer, startled at first, soon relaxed into Rosinante's embrace, finding comfort in the strong arms that held him close.

As they entered the dimly lit cabin, the warmth of the room enveloped them, providing a sanctuary from the outside world. With gentle precision, Rosinante laid Archer on the bed, his brown eyes never leaving Archer's face.

He wanted to wipe away the pain he saw there, to replace it with pleasure and desire. Leaning over, he hovered above Archer, their bodies almost touching, and began a slow, sensual assault on his senses. Rosinante's lips found Archer's, kissing him deeply, passionately. His tongue traced the contours of Archer's mouth, exploring, tasting, and claiming. Archer responded with fervor, his hands gripping Rosinante's broad shoulders, pulling him closer, as if afraid he might disappear.

The kiss was a promise, a declaration of love and desire, and it left them both breathless. Breaking the kiss, Rosinante trailed soft kisses down Archer's neck, nipping and sucking gently on the sensitive skin. He could feel Archer's body arching into his touch, seeking more.

 His hands roamed over Archer's lean, muscular frame, mapping every inch of his lover's body with reverence. Rosinante's fingers deftly unbuttoned Archer's shirt, revealing his sculpted chest. He kissed and licked his way down, paying homage to each newly exposed inch of skin.

Archer's breath hitched as Rosinante's warm mouth latched onto a nipple, sucking and teasing it until it was hard and sensitive. A low moan escaped Archer's lips, a sound that went straight to Rosinante's groin, making him ache with need.

Moving further down, Rosinante unbuckled Archer's belt, his fingers brushing against the bulge in his pants. He could feel Archer's heart racing, his body responding to the anticipation. With slow, deliberate movements, he slid Archer's pants down his long legs, leaving him completely exposed and wanting.

 Archer's cock stood proud, already hard and leaking, a prof to the desire Rosinante had stirred within him. Rosinante admired the sight for a moment, taking in the beauty of Archer's body, before he leaned down and took the tip of Archer's cock into his mouth. He sucked gently at first, swirling his tongue around the head, savoring the taste of his lover.

As he bobbed his head, taking more of Archer into his mouth, his hands cupped Archer's balls, massaging and caressing them. Archer's hands tangled in Rosinante's blond hair, urging him on, his hips thrusting gently to meet each movement of Rosinante's mouth. "Oh, Rosi... fuck... that feels so good," Archer gasped, his voice hoarse with desire.

Rosinante hummed in response, the vibrations sending shivers down Archer's spine. He wanted to please Archer, to make him forget everything but the pleasure they shared. He took Archer's cock deeper, his throat muscles relaxing to accommodate his lover's length. Archer's moans grew louder, filling the cabin with their erotic melody

As Archer's pleasure built, Rosinante's hands roamed over his thighs, kneading and stroking, before sliding back up to tease his hole. He dipped a finger into the heat, eliciting a sharp gasp from Archer. With gentle strokes, he prepared Archer, adding more lube and a second finger, stretching and teasing.

"Please, Rosi... I need you," Archer pleaded, his eyes pleading. Rosinante couldn't deny him any longer. He positioned himself, his thick, hard length poised at Archer's entrance. With one smooth thrust, he claimed Archer, filling him completely. Archer's eyes widened at the sensation, his body adjusting to the fullness.

 Rosinante held still, giving Archer a moment to acclimate, before he began to move. He set a slow, steady rhythm, each thrust deliberate and purposeful. He wanted to prolong this moment, to make it last forever.

Archer's hands gripped the headboard, his body moving in sync with Rosinante's, their skin slick with sweat. "You feel so good, Archer," Rosinante whispered, his breath hot against Archer's ear. Archer could only nod, his words lost in the haze of pleasure. Rosinante's lips found his again, kissing him fiercely, their tongues dancing in a wild rhythm that mirrored their bodies.

As they moved together, the cabin echoed with the sounds of their passion. Archer's body began to tense, his orgasm building. Rosinante could feel it too, the tightening of Archer's muscles around him, the slickness of his hole clenching and releasing his cock. "Touch yourself, love," Rosinante urged, his voice raspy. "Let me see you come apart."

Archer's hand found his cock, stroking himself in time with Rosinante's thrusts. It was too much, too perfect. Archer's body shook as he came, his seed spilling over his hand and abdomen, his cries filling the room.

Rosinante felt Archer's hole clench around him, and he couldn't hold back any longer. With a final, deep thrust, Rosinante surrendered to his own release, filling Archer with his cum. He collapsed onto Archer's chest, their hearts pounding against each other, their sweat-slicked bodies intertwined.

They lay there, entangled in each other's arms, catching their breath. Archer turned his head, his lips finding Rosinante's in a tender kiss, filled with love and gratitude. "Thank you," Archer whispered.

Rosinante leaned in and kissed the side of Archer’s neck, his lips soft against the skin. The gesture was gentle, soothing, and filled with the kind of quiet reassurance that only Rosinante could offer.

“Everything’s going to be okay,” Rosinante whispered, his breath warm against Archer’s neck.

For a moment, Archer just stayed there, his head resting against Rosinante’s chest, the tension slowly melting away. Despite the chaos in his mind, despite all the worries gnawing at him, that simple promise held a surprising amount of weight. It didn’t erase his fears, but it gave him something to hold on to—something to believe in, even if just for a little while.

A small smile tugged at Archer’s lips as he exhaled softly, his fingers brushing against Rosinante’s hand. "You always know what to say, don’t you?"

Rosinante chuckled, his voice low and warm. "Just part of the job, I guess."

Archer shook his head, still smiling. "Damn lucky I’ve got you, then."

Rosinante’s grip around him tightened slightly, pulling him closer. "Lucky goes both ways, you know."

Chapter Text

Archer leaned against the ship's railing, staring out at the horizon. The salty breeze whipped his blond hair around his face as the Silence cut smoothly through the waters. His sharp golden eyes scanned the sea, narrowing in the direction of Enies Lobby. The government’s judicial island—the nerve center of CP9. He hadn’t been there in years, but even now, the memories of that place left a sour taste in his mouth.

"Figures," he muttered, half to himself, "CP9 doesn’t mess around. If Luffy and his crew are heading there, they’re walking into a lion’s den."

It had been Giles who made the call to skip Water 7 and head straight for Enies Lobby. Smart move. Archer grinned to himself, proud of the fishman’s tactical mind. The fewer delays, the better. Every minute counted.

He felt the familiar rise of tension in his chest. Luffy was going to need backup, and not just any backup—his backup. Archer flicked his cigarette into the sea, a determined glint in his eyes. He’d do whatever it took to make sure his brat got out of there alive.

Rosinante approached from behind, the large man moving surprisingly quietly for someone of his size. "You ready for this?" Rosi asked, voice steady but laced with concern.

Archer gave a cocky grin. "Born ready, babe. Besides, these CP9 assholes won't know what hit 'em."

Rosinante chuckled, though Archer could see the worry in his eyes. His partner had every reason to be concerned. Archer knew just how dangerous CP9 could be—had known, ever since that day they nearly killed him in the South Blue.

"Everything’s set," Giles called from the helm, breaking the tension. "We’ll hit Enies Lobby by dawn."

The crew worked tirelessly throughout the night, each preparing for the inevitable chaos that was coming their way. Archer, perched at the edge of the ship's galley, sharpened his haladies with slow, deliberate strokes. The blades glinted dangerously in the dim light, and the rhythmic sound of steel against stone filled the room. His mind was laser-focused, imagining the blood they’d spill come morning. No more reckless charges. Not this time, he thought. CP9 was a different beast entirely. He and his crew needed a plan, not just brute strength—though, plenty of that would still be required.

Behind him, Raya was working her magic with explosives, her fingers deftly constructing what she had dubbed "sea bombs." They were something new, designed specifically to deal with Devil Fruit users. She was embedding fragments of the sea stone spear, the one used to nearly kill Archer not too long ago, into each bomb’s core.

"Pretty badass," Archer mused out loud, admiring her handiwork. "Blow these bastards up, and we might actually stand a chance against whatever freaks CP9 sends our way."

Raya flashed a grin, not looking up from her work. "Damn right. Sea stone inside these things means anyone with Devil Fruit powers is going down hard. Best part? They won’t even see it coming."

Archer’s lips curled into a feral smile as he slid one of his haladies across the whetstone, feeling the edge become sharper, more deadly. "Good. I want them to suffer."

Across the room, Rosinante was fiddling with a weapon of his own—a massive hammer. It looked like something straight out of a blacksmith’s nightmare, but if anyone could wield that kind of blunt force with precision, it was Rosi. Archer chuckled to himself, watching his partner adjust his grip on the giant tool.

"You planning to smash their faces in with that thing?" Archer asked, raising an eyebrow. "Or take down half the damn island?"

Rosinante gave him a sheepish grin, lifting the hammer with ease despite its immense size. "Hey, it’ll do the job. A hammer this big with my strength behind it? Not much is going to stop me."

Archer snorted, though he had to admit, the image of Rosinante storming through the battlefield, swinging that hammer like a god of destruction, had its appeal. The idea of all that government property crumbling into dust? Even better.

“You’re gonna level Enies Lobby,” Archer said, still grinning. “And I’ll enjoy every second of watching you do it.”

Rosi chuckled, though there was a glint of seriousness in his eyes. He was ready. More than that—he was determined. They all were.

As the night dragged on, the crew continued their preparations. Timble was polishing his sea-stone spear with meticulous care, checking it over repeatedly for any imperfections. It was deadly, plain and simple. The little guy had a real knack for weaponry, and though his height made him seem less imposing, Archer knew firsthand how dangerous Timble could be when he set his mind to something.

“Hey, Timble,” Archer called over. “How’s that spear coming along?”

Timble looked up from his work, his sharp eyes gleaming with confidence. “It’s ready,” he said, his voice steady. “Perfect for taking out a few assholes. Hopefully, some CP9 bastards.”

“Good,” Archer said, satisfied. “We’re going to need every edge we can get.”

As the Silence neared Enies Lobby in the early morning light, Archer squinted through the mist, scanning the massive fortress in the distance. He smirked when he spotted a giant hole blown into one of the walls. Luffy and his crew have definitely already arrived, he thought. That brat didn’t know how to do things quietly—destruction was always his calling card.

Rosinante stood at the helm, calmly setting up a soundproof field around their ship. The Silence glided noiselessly over the water, blending into the early dawn fog. No one would hear them coming.

Archer stretched his arms, then squatted down next to Timble, who was adjusting his gear. His sea-stone spear rested beside him, gleaming in the soft light. Archer wanted to run through the dwarf’s part of the plan one last time.

“You remember what you need to do, right?” Archer asked, his voice low but steady.

Timble nodded, his face set with determination. “Rosi’s going to throw me onto the nearest roof. Then I’m going to find Luffy or one of the others. I’ll tell them that when they hear the roar, they need to get down.”

Archer smiled and patted the little guy on the head, his tone softening for a moment. "Good. You’re gonna do great, Timble. Make sure Luffy knows we’re here and keep your eyes sharp. They’re going to need all the help they can get."

Just then, Raya sauntered over, holding up a tiny assassin outfit, all black with a matching mask. She grinned mischievously. “Since you’ve got a mission, you better look the part, little man.”

Timble’s eyes lit up as he eagerly took the outfit from her, grinning like a kid on his birthday. Without a word, he scampered off to change.

Archer couldn’t help but laugh, shaking his head as he watched the pint-sized warrior dash away. “Feisty little man”

Raya chuckled, arms crossed as she watched Timble disappear below deck. "Better watch out—he’s gonna steal all the glory if we’re not careful."

The minutes stretched into an intense quiet as the crew finished their preparations. They were close now. The towering structure of Enies Lobby loomed in front of them, with the open sea behind it stretching endlessly. Somewhere in that labyrinth of government soldiers and elite assassins, Luffy and his crew were fighting for this Robin person.

"Rosi, you ready to throw him?" Archer asked as Timble came bounding back, now dressed head to toe in his new assassin outfit, mask and all.

Rosinante grinned, hefting the tiny warrior in one hand. "I’m ready if he is."

Timble nodded, the tiny mask making him look more serious than ever. "Let’s do this."

Archer stood, his haladies strapped to his back, his sharp gaze locked on Enies Lobby. "Alright, the second he’s in position, we move in. No screw-ups. Stick to the plan."

Rosinante crouched, poised to launch Timble like a dart. With a swift and fluid motion, he hurled the dwarf through the air. Timble soared gracefully over the rooftops, disappearing into the shadows as he hit the ground running. Archer watched him go, confident in the little guy’s ability.

"Now we wait for the signal," Archer muttered, stepping up beside Rosinante. His eyes stayed trained on the distant figures moving across the fortress. "Won’t be long now. Luffy always makes a scene."

Rosinante chuckled softly. "He takes after you in that way."

Archer smirked. "Damn right he does."

It was time for the rest of them to move. Archer stood at the edge of the ship, his sharp eyes scanning the landscape ahead. Rosinante silently set up a new sound field around Archer, Raya, Giles, and himself. The crew of the Silence had made a name for themselves, but today, stealth was just as important as strength.

“Let’s make it count,” Archer muttered under his breath, adjusting the straps of his haladies. His muscles tensed as he prepared for what came next.

Rosinante grinned at him. "You ready for a toss?"

Archer shot him a sidelong look. “Don’t miss.”

With a fluid motion, Rosinante hoisted Archer up and hurled him across the distance. For now, Archer didn’t shift into his more monstrous form. Stealth was key. He landed silently on the rooftop, knees bent, instantly melding into the shadows. He crouched, scanning for threats. Beside him, Raya dropped in just as smoothly, her movements as fluid as a cat.

“I still think you should’ve let me blow something up by now,” she whispered, her voice tinged with amusement.

Archer grinned. “Soon, Raya. We’re saving the fireworks for when it really counts.”

Raya rolled her eyes but stayed focused, pulling out a small blade as she peered over the edge of the rooftop. Below, Enies Lobby soldiers patrolled in tight formations, unaware that their fortress had been infiltrated from another angle.

Meanwhile, Rosinante and Giles made their way toward the massive hole in the wall, where Luffy and his crew had already begun their onslaught. Rosi, once again stood on Giles as they soared through the water. Rosinante kept the sound field strong, ensuring their approach would remain unnoticed.

As Archer moved ahead across the rooftop, he caught sight of movement in the distance. He pressed his back against the stone, signaling to Raya. She nodded and crouched lower, watching the patrols below. But something else caught Archer’s attention—a faint rumbling from the inner wall.

"Trouble’s coming," he whispered to Raya. "Get ready."

Suddenly, a loud roar echoed across the island—the unmistakable sound of Luffy in battle. Archer’s grin widened. The fight had already started, and it was time for them to make their move.

“Go time,” he muttered. With a nod to Raya, they launched into action.

Raya darted ahead, light on her feet, throwing small smoke bombs that disoriented the nearby soldiers. Archer followed closely behind, his blades flashing in the early morning light as they descended into the fray. He moved like a shadow, cutting down anyone in his path with deadly precision.

Across the battlefield, Rosinante and Giles reached the hole in the wall. With a powerful leap, Rosinante dismounted, landing with a crash inside the fortress, his giant hammer in hand. The soldiers barely had time to react before Rosinante swung, sending a group of them flying like ragdolls.

“Let’s go, Giles!” Rosinante shouted.

Giles grinned and followed, launching a barrage of small explosives that exploded in blinding flashes of light, causing chaos among the guards.

Meanwhile, Archer had already sliced through a group of patrolling soldiers. He could hear Luffy’s distant shouts growing louder—his brat of a son was giving them hell.

Raya appeared at his side, breathing heavily but grinning. “Let’s find the others before they wreck this entire place without us.”

As Archer and Raya joined up with Rosinante and Giles, they moved swiftly toward the center of the battle. The morning sun shone brightly over Enies Lobby, casting long shadows across the burning chaos. Smoke billowed up, and the sounds of combat filled the air—metal clashing, shouts, and the rumble of destruction.

When they finally caught sight of Luffy and his crew standing on a roof, Archer's breath hitched. His eyes went wide, especially when he spotted a masked guy standing beside Luffy, casually lighting the World Government flag on fire. The flames shot up instantly, and Archer could hardly believe what he was seeing.

"Well, shit," Archer muttered, his golden eyes wide with disbelief. "For fuck’s sake, Luffy... Really?"

Beside him, Rosinante blinked, just as stunned. "He's... He's declaring war on the World Government. Outright."

Raya, perched beside them, let out a low whistle. "Kid's got balls, I'll give him that."

Archer couldn’t help but crack a grin, despite the sheer audacity of it all. His kid had a flair for the dramatic, that was for sure. He swore under his breath, though a hint of pride slipped through his gruff exterior.

“Can’t just punch the bad guys and call it a day, huh? Nooo, gotta light the damn flag on fire,” Archer mused, shaking his head in disbelief. "Of course, he does it in the most chaotic way possible."

Rosinante rubbed the back of his neck, watching the flames spread, the bright red of the World Government symbol curling into ash. "He's making sure they know they’re done playing by their rules. That’s one hell of a statement."

The gates to the main building swung open with a deafening crash, and out stormed seven figures, each exuding a dangerous aura. Archer's eyes narrowed. CP9. He had been right—they were all Devil Fruit users, the lot of them.

As they approached, Luffy was already locked in a shouting match with an ugly guy in a mask, standing on a balcony above. Archer guessed this was Spandam, the idiot in charge of Robin's capture. The two traded insults, Luffy’s voice booming with rage, but Archer could see the cracks forming in Spandam’s bravado.

Standing at the front of the CP9 group was a tall man with jet-black hair and a cold, dead stare. A damn pigeon perched on his shoulder like it was some kind of mascot. Archer had heard rumors about Rob Lucci, the so-called strongest weapon of the World Government. Lucci’s voice cut through the chaos as he sneered at Luffy, "You and your crew are no match for us. You will all die here."

Archer rolled his neck, his haladies glinting as the sunlight caught their sharp edges. "Well, aren't you a ray of sunshine," he muttered, before glancing at Rosinante, who was still holding the sound field around them.

Rosinante lowered it just enough to yell across the battlefield, his deep voice booming. "Who said they were alone?"

Archer grinned at the looks of confusion and panic that spread across the faces of the CP9 agents. They hadn’t realized another force had joined the fight.

Raya, standing a few feet away, gave Archer a wicked smile, her purple eyes gleaming. She had been waiting for this. With gleeful abandon, she unleashed her powers, letting the enchanted stench of the Nioi Nioi no Mi flood the air. It was instant chaos. Soldiers who had been rushing toward the Straw Hats suddenly dropped to their knees, their faces turning green as they clutched their stomachs and started to vomit uncontrollably.

"Good," Archer muttered, watching the soldiers drop like flies. “Nothing like a little biological warfare.”

The CP9 agents weren’t so easily affected, but they looked wary, their eyes scanning for the source of the attack. Before they could recover, Raya pulled a small, sleek bomb from her pouch, her grin widening. "Time for some fun," she sang, her fingers flicking the sea stone bomb into the air like a game.

Without missing a beat, she hurled it straight at the group of CP9 agents.

The moment the bomb hit the ground, it erupted in a flash of light and sound. Shards of sea stone embedded in the blast flew out in every direction. The air shimmered as the effects took hold, and any Devil Fruit user in the vicinity felt it.

Lucci staggered for half a second, his body momentarily weakening. The others weren’t so lucky. The smaller, masked agent—Kaku—grunted as he fell to one knee, while a stocky woman with long hair, Kalifa, gasped as her strength faltered, sweat dripping down her face.

“Sea stone,” Archer said with a grin, watching their struggle. “Hurts, doesn’t it?”

Rosinante didn’t wait for the effects to wear off. He charged forward, swinging his giant hammer with a powerful, practiced precision. The ground quaked as he brought it down toward Lucci. But Lucci recovered fast, faster than anyone Archer had ever seen, and leaped out of the way at the last second, landing with feline grace on a nearby ledge.

"Nice try," Lucci growled, his voice low and menacing, eyes locking on Rosinante.

But Rosinante wasn’t done. He swung again, this time aiming for Kaku, who was still reeling from the sea stone’s effects. The impact sent Kaku flying backward, crashing into the stone wall with a loud thud.

Archer leapt into the fray, his haladies flashing as he charged at Kalifa. "Guess you're not as invincible as you thought," he taunted, slashing toward her with precision strikes. She barely dodged, still sluggish from the bomb, but her speed wasn’t enough to avoid him entirely. Archer’s blade grazed her arm, drawing blood.

Behind them, Luffy and Zoro were already engaged in their own brutal fight, Luffy squaring off against Lucci with fists of fury, while Zoro handled two of the lesser agents like they were nothing.

But Archer’s focus remained on Kalifa, his mind sharp as ever. She tried to counter with a leg sweep, but Archer sidestepped with ease, his eyes gleaming. "Nice try, sweetheart," he quipped, his blades flashing as he closed the distance.

Kalifa gritted her teeth and launched an attack, her Awa Awa no Mi powers activating as she tried to cover him in slippery soap. Archer rolled his eyes, flipping backward to avoid the attack. "You’re gonna have to do better than bubbles."

With one fluid movement, Archer lunged forward, driving the hilt of his blade into her gut, sending her sprawling across the ground.

Raya’s laughter echoed behind him as she hurled more explosives at the retreating soldiers, her wicked grin never fading. "This is too easy!" she yelled, clearly enjoying herself.

Suddenly, the roar of battle intensified as Lucci went full Zoan form, his body transforming into a monstrous leopard. His speed doubled as he launched himself at Luffy, claws outstretched.

Archer saw Lucci's clawed hand grip Luffy’s head, the sickening crack of bone and flesh filling the air. Luffy, bloodied and breathless, fell back, eyes wide with shock. Lucci’s growl cut through the chaos like a blade as he tightened his grip, ready to crush Luffy’s skull like it was nothing.

And then, Archer’s mind went blank.

No sound. No thought. Just a slow, rhythmic badum... badum... deep inside him, growing louder and more insistent. The world seemed to fade, the battle around him dissolving into the background. His breath hitched, and he felt the beast inside, usually dormant, stir like never before.

Archer surrendered to it.

The transformation wasn’t like when he shifted into his usual Grizzly bear form. This was something new. Something deeper, more primal. His bones cracked, his muscles stretched, and golden fur sprouted across his body, but he remained upright, towering taller than Rosinante, taller than anyone. His hands turned into massive paws, each finger tipped with long, gleaming claws. His teeth elongated into razor-sharp fangs, and a low, guttural growl escaped his throat.

When Archer opened his eyes again, the world had changed. Everything was sharper. He could hear the rush of blood in Lucci’s veins, see every flicker of movement in agonizing clarity. It wasn’t just strength—there was something else in this new form. Agility. Speed. Deadlier instincts.

This was a hybrid form. A perfect blend of the human and beast within him. And it was exactly what he needed.

Without another thought, Archer charged. His claws tore into the ground beneath him as he lunged at Lucci with everything he had. The leopard-man barely had time to react before Archer slammed into him, the force of the impact sending them both crashing through the wall of the nearest building.

Lucci roared, a snarl of surprise and rage as he twisted mid-air, trying to claw Archer’s face. But Archer was faster. He swatted Lucci's arm aside with a brutal swipe of his paw, the clash of claws echoing through the rubble.

They hit the ground, and the fight turned savage. Claws slashed through the air, fangs snapped at throats, and the earth shook with every collision of their bodies. Lucci was strong, vicious, and relentless, but Archer had tapped into something raw, something untamed, and it made him just as dangerous.

Lucci leaped back, baring his fangs as blood dripped from a gash on his arm. "What are you?" he hissed, his eyes narrowing in disbelief.

Archer didn’t answer. He couldn’t. The beast inside was in control now, his thoughts reduced to pure, animalistic instinct. All he knew was that Lucci had tried to kill his son and that was enough. With a thunderous roar, Archer pounced again, claws aimed straight for Lucci’s chest.

Lucci dodged to the side, his claws raking across Archer's arm, but Archer didn’t slow down. He grabbed Lucci by the throat, slamming him into the ground so hard the earth cracked beneath them. Lucci gasped, struggling to free himself, but Archer’s grip was unrelenting.

Blood pounded in Archer’s ears as he snarled, his fangs inches from Lucci’s face. He could feel the tension in Lucci’s body, the desperation as the CP9 agent tried to wriggle free. But Archer was stronger. Faster.

Lucci managed to kick out, slamming his foot into Archer’s ribs, and the force sent Archer stumbling back. Lucci flipped back onto his feet, his face twisted in a snarl, blood dripping from his mouth. "You’ll regret that," he spat, before launching himself forward with blinding speed.

The two clashed again, claws ripping, fists landing brutal blows, the sounds of their fight echoing through the battlefield like thunder. Every hit was like two freight trains colliding, shaking the ground beneath them. Archer slashed across Lucci’s chest, tearing through his flesh. But Lucci retaliated with a savage uppercut that sent Archer skidding back.

The beast in Archer roared in fury, and he lunged again, faster this time. Lucci’s eyes widened as Archer’s claws sank into his side, blood spraying from the wound. Archer followed up with a powerful kick, sending Lucci crashing into the remains of a crumbling wall.

They locked eyes, two predators in their prime, neither willing to back down. The tension in the air was palpable, every muscle in Archer’s body coiled and ready to strike.

Then Lucci, with a feral snarl, shifted fully into his leopard form, doubling in size. But Archer didn’t flinch. He was ready. They charged at each other, a collision of raw power and fury, claws slashing, teeth gnashing, each trying to tear the other apart.

But in the back of his mind, as Archer's claws slashed across Lucci’s chest again, a single thought cut through the haze: Luffy. He needed to make sure his son was okay.

With a final, brutal strike, Archer slammed his fist into Lucci’s face, sending him sprawling across the ground, dazed but not defeated. Archer roared, his voice echoing across the battlefield, before turning his attention back to Luffy.

And that’s when he heard it—the voice of his son, shouting out through the chaos. "DAD!"

Luffy was back on his feet, bloodied but grinning, determination burning in his eyes.

As Archer shifted back to his human form, he felt the adrenaline coursing through his veins fade, leaving behind a trail of exhaustion and relief. He brushed a bloodied hand across his face, wiping away the sweat and grime. He looked down at Lucci, who was barely conscious, sprawled out on the ground. Archer crouched beside him, a wicked grin spreading across his face.

“Hey, asshole,” he said, yanking Lucci’s black hair to pull his face closer. “You asked who I was? You have been so lucky to meet Portgas D. Archer, the Golden Terror, co-captain of the Roaring Pirates. And guess what? I’m also Luffy’s dad.”

Lucci’s eyes widened in disbelief, fear etching his features. It was a sight Archer found immensely satisfying. He released Lucci’s hair, letting his head flop back against the cobblestones as he turned to Luffy, who stood beside him, panting but looking incredibly proud.

“Do you know where Timble is?” Archer asked, the gravity of the situation returning.

Luffy nodded vigorously, excitement lighting up his face. “Yeah! He and Sanji snuck into the main building to find Robin!”

“Good,” Archer replied, glancing back at Lucci. “Let’s get the rest of the crew ready.” He stood up, but before he turned away, he kicked Lucci squarely in the head with a swift, brutal motion. Lucci’s eyes rolled back, and he crumpled into unconsciousness.

With a satisfied huff, Archer turned to the rest of his crew, scanning the chaos around him. The battle had raged fiercely, but the ground was littered with the defeated bodies of CP9. “What’s our status?” he called out.

“Everyone’s dead except for Kaku and Lucci,” Rosinante replied, his voice steady despite the adrenaline still thrumming through him. He stepped up beside Archer, hammer in hand, ready for whatever came next.

“Alright,” Archer said, determination flooding through him. He looked at Luffy and his crew. “You guys need to help Sanji and Timble get Robin. We’ll take care of Kaku and Lucci.”

“Got it!” Luffy shouted, his spirit unbroken. “Let’s go save Robin!”

Archer turned to Raya, giving her a knowing nod. Her grin widened, and she practically bounced over to Kaku and Lucci, who were still incapacitated and groaning on the ground. With deft precision, she pulled out a set of gloves and began her work.

“Just wait until you see what I’ve got planned,” she said, her voice dripping with enthusiasm.

Archer watched as she made small cuts around both CP9 members, skillfully and methodically creating tiny holes in their skin. Then, with a delicate touch, she pushed minuscule pieces of seastone into each opening. The glint of the seastone against the dim lighting was almost mesmerizing.

“Brilliant,” Archer said, a smirk crossing his lips. “The Government is going to have a hell of a time digging all that out. By the time they’re done, these two will be weak and in pain.”

Raya chuckled, wiping her hands on her outfit after finishing the last of the placements. “It’s almost poetic, don’t you think? All that power reduced to nothing because they didn’t see us coming.”

Archer plopped down on a nearby stone, lighting a cigarette and taking a long drag. He leaned back, letting the smoke curl into the air as he relaxed for a moment. “Yeah, I’d say they underestimated us just a bit.”

He stared at Kaku and Lucci, their faces contorted in discomfort as they realized the extent of what Raya had done. The pain would only intensify as the seastone worked its magic, robbing them of their strength. Archer couldn’t help but feel a sense of satisfaction.

“Now we wait for Luffy and the others,” he said, exhaling a puff of smoke. “I hope they found Robin without too much trouble.”

Raya joined him, sitting on another stone with a playful expression. “What do you think they’re doing right now? Probably causing chaos, knowing them.”

“Probably,” Archer replied, a fond smile creeping across his face. “Luffy never was one to follow the rules.”

Chapter Text

The sun was setting behind the shattered ruins of Enies Lobby, casting long shadows across the battlefield. Archer sat on the edge of the dock, his body aching, wounds stinging, but his heart was light. They had made it out alive so far. Lucci had been taken down, CP9 was finished, and Robin was safe. His breath came in shallow, uneven bursts, but there was something about seeing his plan come together that made the pain bearable.

From the distance, Archer’s sharp eyes caught the sight of Luffy and his crew sprinting toward them, Timble perched like a proud little king on Luffy’s straw hat. Luffy’s voice rang out with that same infectious energy he always carried, loud enough to shake the heavens.

"DAD! PAPA!"

Luffy’s shout was enough to make every inch of pain in Archer’s body fade like an afterthought. Despite everything—the blood, the bruises, the chaos—he found himself grinning ear to ear.

"Damn kid..." Archer muttered, dragging himself to his feet, wincing as he straightened his back.

Timble waved from his spot on Luffy’s hat, his tiny hands gripping the brim as he bounced excitedly. Archer couldn’t help but laugh. Seeing that little guy in the middle of all this insanity brought an odd warmth to his heart. How the hell did Luffy manage to make everything seem so simple? Even in a life-or-death situation, he looked as happy as a kid playing pirate.

Nami was running beside them, her face a picture of pure panic. "We have to go! Spandam’s chasing us down with a ship!"

Archer’s grin faltered, the weight of reality slamming back into him. "Of course he is," he growled under his breath, shaking off the last of his fatigue.

Rosinante stood nearby, his tall frame casting a shadow over the rest of them. His voice was calm, but it had a steel edge to it. "Everyone, to the Silence! Now!" he ordered, nodding toward the docked ship, its sails already prepared for a quick escape.

Archer shot a glance at Luffy and the rest of the Straw Hat crew. "You heard him! Move it!" he barked, already limping toward the ship.

Luffy and his crew needed no further encouragement. They bolted toward the Silence, feet pounding against the wooden planks of the dock. Timble leaped from Luffy’s hat and into Archer’s arms with a squeal of delight.

"You did good, kid," Archer murmured, tousling Timble's hair with a bloody hand.

Timble grinned up at him, wide-eyed. "Thanks Archer! I told Sanji everything like you said!"

"Good boy," Archer replied, feeling a strange sense of pride in his chest. He couldn’t help but smile, even as the pain from his wounds gnawed at his sides.

Behind them, the distant sound of cannon fire rumbled in the air. Archer shot a glance over his shoulder and saw Spandam’s ship emerging from the wreckage, sails billowing in pursuit.

"Shit," he hissed under his breath. "They’re coming in hot."

Rosinante was already aboard the Silence, gripping the helm with white-knuckled focus. His voice rang out across the deck. "Everyone on board, now!"

Luffy bounded up the gangplank, his crew hot on his heels. Zoro, Sanji, and the others moved with swift precision, but there was still an air of excitement, a wildness in their eyes that told Archer they were still running high on adrenaline.

Archer handed Timble to Giles, who stood by the railing with his trident at the ready. "Watch him, will ya?" Archer muttered before heading back toward the edge of the ship. He was still bleeding, his body protesting with every step, but he pushed it all aside. There wasn’t time to rest now.

Once everyone was on board, Rosinante wasted no time. With a flick of his wrist, the sails caught the wind, and the Silence began to glide through the water, pulling away from the dock and into the open sea. The distant sound of cannons firing grew louder, but they had a head start.

"Can we outrun them?" Nami asked, her voice tight with tension as she gripped the railing.

Rosinante gave a short nod, his expression unflinching. "We’ll have to. This ship’s faster than theirs, but we need to stay ahead."

Archer leaned against the mast, his eyes scanning the horizon. "Raya," he called out, his voice hoarse but firm.

Raya appeared at his side, her eyes gleaming with mischief. "I know what you’re gonna ask," she said with a wicked grin, already pulling one of her homemade bombs from her pack. "I’ll slow ‘em down."

"Do it," Archer growled, glancing at the pursuing ship. "And make it loud."

Raya's grin widened. With a swift motion, she lit the fuse and hurled the bomb with deadly precision. It sailed through the air, a small dot against the vastness of the sea, before landing right on the deck of Spandam’s ship.

For a moment, nothing happened. Then, the explosion tore through the ship, a massive fireball lighting up the horizon. The force of it sent chunks of debris flying into the air, and the pursuing vessel veered off course.

A roar of triumph erupted from the Silence’s deck. Even Archer couldn’t help but let out a victorious shout.

"Nice shot!" Zoro called out, cracking into a grin of approval.

Raya blew on her fingers like she’d just finished shooting a gun. "I’ve been practicing," she said with a wink.

Archer smirked and pushed off from the mast, finally allowing himself to breathe. They had bought themselves some time.

Rosinante guided the ship further into the open sea, the wreckage of Enies Lobby shrinking behind them. The Silence cut through the water like an arrow, leaving the chaos and destruction in its wake.

Archer took a deep breath, letting the salty sea air fill his lungs as the chaos of Enies Lobby slowly disappeared behind them. The adrenaline was starting to wear off, and the dull ache of his wounds began creeping back in. Still, he stood tall, scanning the group gathered on the deck. His own crew was there—Raya, Giles, Rosinante, Timble—all looking a bit battered but ready for whatever came next.

But then his eyes fell on a handful of unfamiliar faces. There was a guy with blue hair, wearing what could only be described as the most colorful floral shirt and... speedos? Seriously? Archer blinked, then moved on to the next one: the ugliest mermaid he had ever laid eyes on. He couldn’t help the grimace that tugged at his face. This wasn’t some ordinary weird-looking sea creature; it was like someone had slapped a fish on a human body in the worst possible way. Really?

And then there was a kid. A kid? What the hell was a child doing here? She was small, quiet, and had the sort of big, innocent eyes that made Archer's heart squeeze a little, though he would never admit it. Alongside the kid were some rough-looking guys, all bandaged and bruised. This was by far the weirdest group of people he’d seen in a long time, and that was saying something.

Archer’s eyebrow twitched. He turned to Luffy, who was grinning like he hadn’t just been fighting for his life. "Oi, Luffy," Archer called out, crossing his arms. "Mind telling me who the hell all these people are? I know your crew, but..." He gestured to the blue-haired man in the speedos and floral shirt, the mermaid, the kid, and the battered men. "...the hell is this circus you brought with you?"

Luffy scratched the back of his head, still smiling, like none of this was strange at all. "Oh yeah! Let me introduce you!" He pointed at the blue-haired guy first. "This is Franky! He’s a shipwright!"

Archer stared at Franky, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Shipwright, huh?" He tilted his head, sizing him up. "Nice... uh, speedos."

Franky flexed, striking a pose. "Thanks, bro! SUPERRR!" he shouted, thrusting his fists into the air.

Archer’s face was deadpan. "Right..." He turned to the next person, bracing himself.

Luffy moved on quickly. "This is Kokoro! She’s a mermaid!"

Archer’s eyes flicked to the old, wrinkled figure in front of him, his grimace deepening. "A mermaid...?" he muttered under his breath, looking Kokoro up and down. He wasn’t trying to be rude, but it was hard to keep the disbelief off his face. "Right. Sure."

Kokoro just let out a raspy laugh. "Hehehe, don’t look so shocked, boy! We’re not all beauty queens down in the sea."

"No kidding," Archer mumbled, then quickly moved on.

"And this," Luffy continued, pointing at the little kid, "is Chimney! She helped us on the sea train!"

Archer crouched down slightly, looking Chimney in the eyes. "A kid, huh?" He gave her a small, awkward smile, trying not to seem as intimidating as he usually did. "Well, nice to meet you, Chimney."

Chimney grinned up at him, her face full of childish mischief. "Nice to meet you too, mister! I saw you fightin'! You were awesome!"

Archer chuckled despite himself, standing back up. "Thanks, kid."

Finally, Luffy gestured to the battered men. "And these guys are the Franky Family! They’re... well, they’re Franky’s family!"

Archer gave the group a nod, though they looked like they’d been through hell and back. "Right... Franky’s family. Got it."

He rubbed the back of his neck, his brain trying to process the sheer randomness of the group in front of him. This was probably the weirdest assembly of people he’d ever been part of, but, then again, nothing with Luffy was ever normal.

Archer was about halfway to slipping away unnoticed when, of course, Rosinante caught him. Before he could even protest, Rosi plucked him up by the back of his bloody shirt like he weighed nothing more than a child. Archer let out an exaggerated groan as Rosinante set him down squarely in front of Chopper, arms crossed, staring at him with that no-nonsense look Archer knew all too well.

"Really, Rosi?" Archer grumbled, tugging at his shirt. "I’m fine. Barely a scratch."

Rosinante didn’t say a word, just raised an eyebrow and tilted his head, silently daring him to keep arguing. Archer sighed heavily, knowing when he was beat. "Stupid boyfriend," he muttered under his breath, yanking off his torn and blood-stained shirt.

Chopper, who was already gathering his medical supplies, looked up with a mix of concern and professional capacity. "You’re not fine, Archer! You’ve got cuts all over you! Sit still."

Archer sat down with a huff, glaring at Rosinante who remained standing nearby, still watching like a hawk. "Happy now?" Archer grumbled, feeling the cold air hit his bruised and bloodied skin.

"Ecstatic," Rosinante replied dryly, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. He leaned against the railing, still keeping an eye on him, making sure Archer didn’t pull any funny business while Chopper worked.

Chopper began cleaning one of the deeper cuts on Archer’s arm, and Archer winced slightly but kept his tough-guy act up. "You’re lucky I’m not in the mood to fight back," he said, mostly to himself, though Rosinante clearly heard.

"Mm-hmm," Rosi replied, clearly unimpressed by Archer’s sulking.

As Chopper worked, Archer couldn’t help but shoot occasional glares at Rosinante, who seemed completely unfazed. "You’re enjoying this way too much," Archer muttered under his breath, his pride more bruised than his body at this point.

Rosinante shrugged, that damn smirk still in place. "I’d rather you be annoyed and in one piece than bleeding all over the bed later."

Archer rolled his eyes, sitting back and crossing his arms. "Still stupid," he muttered again, though the faintest hint of a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

As Chopper worked, stitching up Archer’s arm with precision, Archer couldn’t help but grumble under his breath. The annoyance of being forced into medical treatment was only amplified when he saw Nami dragging a very unwilling Luffy over to Raya. Luffy, with his typical stubbornness, was squirming in protest, much like a child trying to escape a bath.

“No! I’m fine!” Luffy yelled, flailing, though it was clear he was worn out from the fight.

Nami didn’t even blink as she practically manhandled Luffy into sitting down next to Archer. “You’re not going anywhere until you’re patched up,” she snapped, her tone leaving no room for argument.

Raya, who had already prepared her medical supplies, cracked her knuckles with a devilish grin. “Now, now, Junior. Let’s not make this harder than it has to be.”

Luffy pouted like a child but sat down, defeated, while Raya began cleaning the dirt and blood off his wounds. Archer glanced over at his son, feeling a weird sense of solidarity. Here they were, two of the most stubborn people in the world, both forced into submission by their respective crews.

“I hate this,” Luffy grumbled, wincing as Raya applied some antiseptic to his cuts.

“Tell me about it,” Archer replied, shifting as Chopper continued his sewing. “Your papa practically threw me into this chair like I was some misbehaving kid.”

“Same with Nami,” Luffy sighed. “She’s scary when she’s mad.”

Archer smirked. “Yeah, well, try having a six-foot-six maniac of a boyfriend who can throw you like a sack of potatoes.”

Luffy chuckled at that, despite his discomfort. “At least you didn’t get kicked in the head by Sanji before this.”

Chopper, who was focused on stitching Archer’s wounds, couldn’t help but chime in. “If you guys didn’t get hurt so much, we wouldn’t have to force you to sit still!”

Archer gave him a side-eye, his voice low and mocking. “Yeah, yeah, doc.”

Luffy squirmed again as Raya poked at one of his deeper wounds. “Ow! Hey, I thought you were supposed to heal me, not kill me!”

Raya just snickered. “Can’t help it if you’re made of rubber and you don’t feel things like normal people. But if you keep moving, I might just slip.”

That shut Luffy up, though he continued to sulk next to Archer, the two of them now united in grumpy silence.

“Stupid wounds,” Archer muttered, folding his arms as Chopper finished another stitch.

“Stupid sewing,” Luffy agreed, wincing as Raya dabbed at another cut.

They sat like that for a few moments, father and son, very unhappy men begrudgingly receiving medical care while their crews worked to keep them from falling apart completely.

When Chopper finally finished stitching up Archer’s wounds, Archer stood with a groan, rolling his shoulders to shake off the stiffness. He spotted Giles at the helm, deep in conversation with the blue-haired guy in the flower shirt—Franky, Luffy had called him. They were discussing something about the Silence.

As Archer made his way toward them, he was suddenly yanked into a firm hug by Nami. It caught him off guard, his eyes widening for a moment before he chuckled, patting her arm in return.

"Thank you," Nami said, her voice soft but sincere. "For coming to help us. We really would've been in trouble without you guys."

Archer snorted lightly, shaking his head. "If you want to thank someone, it should be Chopper. He’s the one who called me."

At that, Nami pulled back slightly, looking up at him with wide, surprised eyes. "Wait, Chopper called you?!"

"Yeah, he sent out a message. We were already nearby, so I figured why not jump into the chaos," Archer replied, a grin pulling at his lips.

Then Nami gestured toward a tall, dark-haired woman standing quietly near the edge of the deck, she introduced Archer and Rosinante to her. "This is Robin," Nami said. "She’s our new crewmember."

Archer raised an eyebrow, glancing over at Robin. She seemed composed and calm, but there was a quiet strength about her. If Luffy had gone this far for her, she was definitely worth it.

"Ah," Archer said, a playful smirk forming on his lips. "Well, if Luffy’s willing to raise hell for you, I guess you’re family now. Must be one hell of a story."

Robin’s eyes widened a bit as Nami added, "And, Robin, these two are Luffy’s dads—Archer and Rosinante."

Robin blinked in surprise, clearly taken aback. She studied them for a moment, her gaze lingering on their battle-worn appearances, and then smiled warmly. "I’ve... heard about you both," she said, a hint of amusement and curiosity in her voice.

Archer leaned in slightly, winking at her. "Heard about us, huh? Well, I hope it was in a good way."

Robin, caught off guard, blushed slightly and grinned. "Yes," she said, a little more softly, her eyes twinkling with amusement. "Very much in a good way."

Rosinante chuckled, nudging Archer with his elbow. "Behave," he teased, his grin just as playful.

"Hey," Archer said, raising his hands in mock surrender, "I’m just making sure we’re leaving a good impression on the new family member."

Robin smiled at them both, clearly warming up to their dynamic. "It seems Luffy inherited his boldness from both of you," she remarked with a laugh.

"Yeah, bold is one word for it," Archer replied with a grin, glancing over at Luffy, who was already back to laughing and joking with the rest of his crew. "But honestly, it's all heart with that one. Guess we didn’t mess him up too bad."

Robin nodded, her gaze softening as she looked over at Luffy too. "It’s... nice to know he has a family that cares for him. Not everyone is that fortunate."

Archer’s grin faded into something more genuine, nodding in agreement. "Yeah. Family’s everything. You stick with us, and you’ll be alright, Robin."

Rosinante nodded in support, his serious expression tempered by a warm smile. "You’re one of us now, whether you like it or not."

Robin chuckled softly, clearly moved by the sentiment. "Thank you... both."

When they finally reached Water 7, the atmosphere lightened considerably. A slick guy named Iceburg had lent them all a house, at least until the Straw Hats could get a new ship. Apparently, Franky had volunteered to build it himself, which Archer thought was surprisingly nice of him—especially after all the chaos they’d just endured.

Archer, Rosinante, and the rest of their crew decided to stick around for a bit longer, eager to spend more time with Luffy and his crew before they set out on their next journey. The house was cozy, perfect for a moment of calm after everything they'd been through.

Archer sat outside in the fading afternoon light, watching the peaceful scene unfold before him. Luffy and his crew were laughing and joking nearby, the tension from Enies Lobby all but forgotten. But something else caught Archer’s eye. Timble, sneaky as ever, was lurking by the side of the house, dragging a suspiciously moving bag behind him.

Arching a brow, Archer stood and followed Timble quietly, his curiosity piqued. He was willing to bet Rosinante’s hood that the dwarf was up to no good. As Timble slipped inside the house, Archer crept in behind him, making sure to stay unnoticed.

Timble finally stopped in one of the side rooms, looking around furtively before crouching down to open the bag. Archer watched in growing disbelief as Timble slowly pulled none other than Lucci’s damn pigeon out of the bag.

“What the hell?” Archer muttered under his breath, eyes widening as he leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed. The damn bird cooed softly, apparently unfazed by being stuffed into a sack and smuggled across Water 7.

Timble, unaware of Archer's presence, grinned at the pigeon. "Don’t worry, little guy," Timble whispered, stroking the bird’s head. "You’re safe now. I’m naming you Nugget, and one day we are gonna fly!"

Archer couldn’t take it anymore. He let out a loud snort, causing Timble to nearly jump out of his skin. "Safe now? From what? Fresh air?" Archer teased, stepping into the room fully.

Timble turned, his face flushing as he tried to hide the pigeon behind his back—like that would somehow make it disappear, since it was bigger than him. "Uh… I can explain?" he offered weakly, looking up at Archer with wide eyes.

Archer just shook his head, trying to stifle his laughter. "You snuck Lucci’s pigeon onto the ship? And now into the house? What are you planning to do, make it part of the crew?"

Timble puffed out his chest, clearly still attached to the idea. "Well, Nugget is innocent! He didn’t do anything wrong—he’s just a pigeon!"

Archer rubbed a hand over his face, trying to process the absurdity of the situation. "Rosi’s gonna flip when he finds out you’ve smuggled a pigeon into Iceburg’s place. You know that, right?"

Timble's expression turned sheepish. "Maybe... we just don’t tell him?"

Archer chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief. "You know what, Timb? Fine. Keep the pigeon. But if it starts cooing at three in the morning and wakes everyone up, you’re the one explaining it to Rosi."

Timble beamed, clearly relieved. "Deal!"

With a final glance at the pigeon, Archer left the room, still shaking his head. Of all the things that had come out of Enies Lobby, he never would’ve guessed they’d end up adopting a damn pigeon

But not all was fun and games. As the days in Water 7 passed, the tension between Luffy and Usopp still hung heavy in the air. Archer and Rosinante were pulled aside by Zoro for a quiet briefing on what had gone down between the two. Zoro’s voice was gruff, but his frustration was clear.

“It was a shitshow,” Zoro said bluntly, crossing his arms. “Usopp challenged Luffy for control of the Going Merry. Lost, but... things didn’t end clean.”

Archer could see the weight on Zoro’s shoulders—being vice-captain didn’t come easy when crew members were tearing each other apart. Rosinante, ever the voice of reason, placed a hand on Zoro’s shoulder. “As vice-captain, it’s your job to help Luffy see reason, Zoro. Things aren’t just fun and games anymore. Shit’s serious now.”

Zoro’s jaw clenched, his expression hardening. “I know. But getting through to him…”

Archer cut in with a wry smile, though his tone was dead serious. “You have to lay down the law, Zoro. Luffy listens to you, more than you think. This can’t keep dragging on.”

With that, they made a decision. Archer, Rosinante, and the rest of the Roaring Pirates—now with Nugget the pigeon unofficially in tow—headed into the city to give Zoro space to handle the situation. Zoro needed to assert his role, to make Luffy understand that the crew couldn't function with unresolved tension like this hanging over them. If they were going to sail into the New World, Luffy had to understand that leading a crew meant facing these kinds of problems head-on.

The streets of Water 7 were a welcome distraction. Nugget perched on Rosinante’s head, looking surprisingly smug for a bird, as the crew wandered the city. The vibrant canals and bustling streets seemed like a different world.

When they later approached the house, the familiar sights of Water 7 suddenly feeling ominous. The moment they stepped into the yard, Archer froze in disbelief. There, right in front of them, was a massive hole in the side of the house, and Garp—of all people—was leaning over a sprawled-out Luffy, yelling about the “fist of love” while delivering what looked like a solid punch to his sleeping grandson.

“What the hell?” Archer exclaimed, eyes wide.

Luffy stirred beneath Garp’s assault, groggily blinking up at the chaos, his expression a mix of confusion and irritation. Archer couldn’t believe this was happening.

Rosi was already moving, his long strides carrying him toward Garp like a storm. “Stop it!” he shouted, his voice thunderous. In one swift motion, he intercepted Garp’s punch, gripping the old man’s wrist with an intensity that made Archer proud.

“Rosi!” Archer called out, knowing his partner was about to unleash a storm of protective fury.

“Let go of him, Garp!” Rosi yanked Luffy away from Garp’s grasp, turning to face the legendary Marine with a fierceness that made Archer’s heart swell. “What the hell are you doing to my son?”

Garp blinked, momentarily thrown off by the sudden confrontation. “He’s an idiot! He needs a wake-up call!”

Luffy rubbed his eyes, still struggling to comprehend the scene. “I was just trying to—”

“Not now, Luffy!” Rosi’s voice was filled with a protective anger Archer had never seen before. He stood back, arms crossed, reveling in the absurdity while Raya worked her magic, pacifying the Marines who had followed Garp. The aura around them shifted as the soldiers began to look dazed and confused, their fight leaving them.

“Great job, Raya,” Archer murmured, a smirk creeping onto his face as he watched the chaos unfold.

The only Marines who remained alert were a pink-haired young man and a blond guy sporting the world’s ugliest glasses, both of whom looked completely out of their depth in the unfolding family drama.

“Uh, what just happened?” the pink-haired guy stammered, glancing between Garp and the gathered crew.

Archer shrugged, enjoying the show. “Just your typical family reunion with a side of chaos,” he quipped, trying to contain his laughter.

As Garp launched into another tirade, Archer braced himself for whatever ridiculous family drama was about to unfold. “You’re just like your old man, Luffy! Reckless and completely out of control! You know your real dad is Monkey D. Dragon, right? The leader of the Revolutionaries? You could be doing so much more than a criminal!”

Luffy, however, only chuckled, his laughter echoing through the yard. “Yeah, but my real dads is right here!” He pointed at Rosinante and Archer, his grin unwavering. “I don’t care about that Dragon guy!”

Archer couldn’t help but feel a swell of pride at Luffy’s declaration, but he also noticed Garp’s eye twitching with barely contained frustration. “You’re gonna regret that, kid,” Garp grumbled, his voice low and threatening. “I’m not letting you run wild without a leash. You have five days. Then I’ll be hunting you down.”

“Good luck with that!” Luffy shot back, arms crossed defiantly. “You’ll have to catch me first!”

Just as Garp turned to leave, likely to devise some absurd plan for his impending hunt, a loud crash interrupted the tension. The door burst open, and Franky stormed in, his massive frame filled with excitement. “Hey, everyone! The new ship is done! Talk about timing, huh?”

Archer raised an eyebrow, half amused, half exasperated. “You couldn’t have chosen a better moment to show up, could you?”

Franky grinned, oblivious to the gravity of the situation. “What’s happening? Did I miss the family reunion? Looks like a party!”

“More like a circus,” Rosi muttered, shaking his head. “We’re trying to deal with a Marine on a warpath here, Franky.”

Garp rolled his eyes, giving Franky a dismissive wave. “You’ll see what happens when Luffy gets caught. But if you’re done building the ship you better leave soon.” With that, he turned and walked away, the tension following him like a dark cloud.

Later that night, the air was thick with laughter and music as Luffy decided to throw another party. The lively atmosphere pulsed through the gathering, with everyone dancing, drinking, and joking around like there was no tomorrow. Archer watched the chaos unfold, a smile tugging at his lips as he spotted Luffy busting out his signature goofy dance moves.

Archer wandered over to Franky, who had somehow found a way to fit in seamlessly with the Strawhats. “So, how did you end up in this crew?” Archer asked, genuinely curious.

Franky shrugged, his trademark grin plastered on his face. “Well, you know, it all started with Robin. She kind of had a way of convincing me, she was holding something of mine hostage.” He chuckled, the sound booming over the music.

“Robin, huh? Fair enough,” Archer replied, nodding.

After a bit, Archer drifted toward Sanji, who was serving drinks and trying to remain inconspicuous. Archer leaned against the bar, catching Sanji’s eye. “Hey, you good?”

Sanji hesitated, then asked quietly, “Have you heard from Ace lately?”

Archer felt a twinge in his chest at the mention of his son. He shook his head, regret heavy in his voice. “Not recently. Ace is on a mission right now, so I haven’t had the chance to catch up.”

Sanji’s expression fell, a hint of sadness in his gaze. Archer clapped him on the back, trying to lift his spirits. “But when I hear from him, I’ll tell him to contact you. You know he likes you, right?”

At that, a shy smile broke through Sanji’s sadness. “Thanks, Archer. That means a lot.”

Later on, Archer found himself comfortably perched in Rosinante’s lap, the two of them enjoying the vibrant atmosphere of the party. Laughter and music surrounded them, and for a moment, it felt like all the chaos of the day had melted away.

Just then, a blond-haired man approached, an expression of misguided confidence plastered on his face. “Hey, are you guys gay?” he asked, a sneer creeping into his voice.

Archer couldn’t help himself. With a playful grin, he replied, “No, we are Archer and Rosinante.” It felt like the perfect dad joke, and he chuckled at his own cleverness.

But the blond man’s expression darkened, and he launched into a rant about how gay people were unnatural. Archer raised an eyebrow, annoyance bubbling beneath the surface. He was about to get up when suddenly—

Thwack!

Nami stormed in like a whirlwind, delivering a swift punch that knocked the blond man out cold. “Shut the fuck up Paulie!” she yelled, hands on her hips, glaring down at the unconscious figure.

Archer couldn't help but burst out laughing, thoroughly impressed. He gave Nami a thumbs up. “Nice one! I was just about to do that, but you beat me to it!”

Nami shot him a triumphant smile, clearly enjoying the validation. “Some people just need a reality check,” she said, shaking her head. “Let’s enjoy the party without all that crap.”

“Agreed,” Archer said, settling back into Rosinante’s lap.

Nugget then swooped down from above, making a beeline for the now-unconscious blond man—Paulie, as Nami had called him. With impeccable timing, Nugget shat directly on Paulies head. Archer burst into laughter, sharing the moment with Rosinante. “Looks like Nugget fits right in with the Roaring Pirates!” he exclaimed, grinning at the proud little bird who strutted about, clearly pleased with his work.

Rosinante chuckled, shaking his head in amusement. “Yes he does”

The night wore on, filled with more laughter, dancing, and a few questionable drinking games. But eventually, the morning light crept in, and the reality of their departure hit Archer.

As they stood on the docks, saying their goodbyes to Luffy and the Straw Hat crew, a bittersweet feeling settled in Archer's chest.

With heartfelt hugs and promises to reunite, Archer and Rosinante boarded the Silence, watching as the distance between them and Water 7 grew.

Chapter Text

WORLD IN SHOCK: STRAW HATS AND ROARING PIRATES LAY WASTE TO ENIES LOBBY, BURN WORLD GOVERNMENT FLAG

The fall of Enies Lobby has sent shockwaves throughout the world, leaving both the Marines and World Government reeling from an unprecedented act of rebellion. In a daring raid, the Straw Hat Pirates, led by Captain Monkey D. Luffy, with the full might of the Roaring Pirates at their side, obliterated one of the Government’s strongest judicial strongholds, Enies Lobby. But perhaps more shocking than the destruction itself is the raising of the banner of defiance: the burning of the World Government’s flag by the Straw Hat crew.

The Burning of the Flag: A Declaration of War

The moment the World Government's flag ignited, there was no turning back. For the first time in history, a group of pirates openly declared war on the World Government.

As the flag burned, so too did the already fragile stability of the Grand Line, signaling that the Age of Piracy has entered an even more dangerous era.

The Roaring Pirates: The Silent Giant and the Golden Terror

The Roaring Pirates, led by co-captains Donquixote Rosinante—now dubbed “The Silent Giant”—and Portgas D. Archer, the feared "Golden Terror," brought their reputation as one of the most dangerous pirate crews to bear upon the CP9 and Marines stationed at Enies Lobby.

Donquixote Rosinante, once thought lost on a undercover mission for the marines, has reemerged as a powerful force, gaining the moniker "The Silent Giant" due to his towering stature and ruthless efficiency in battle. His presence alone had a chilling effect on both CP9 agents and Marines alike, his silent movements and devastating strikes leaving carnage in his wake.

Portgas D. Archer, on the other hand, has been infamous since his youth for his brutal and violent clashes with the Marines. Known as the "Golden Terror" for his blond hair and golden eyes and terrifying combat prowess, Portgas has been killing Marines since he was just 11 years old. His reputation was solidified during the Enies Lobby raid when he faced off against Rob Lucci, the deadliest agent of CP9, and emerged victorious. Lucci, considered one of the strongest fighters under the World Government's employ, fell to Portgas relentless assault in a battle that is already being called legendary.

CP9 Defeated: The Fall of Government's Elite

The elite agents of CP9, who were feared across the Grand Line for their lethal skills and unwavering loyalty to the World Government, have now been reduced to scattered remnants. The Straw Hat Pirates, supported by the Roaring Pirates, took on the entire organization head-on.

Portgas’s fight against Rob Lucci was nothing short of brutal. Witnesses reported that Portgas combat style was a terrifying blend of raw power and skill, culminating in Lucci's ultimate defeat. This has only solidified Portgas reputation as a force to be reckoned with and a direct threat to the Marines.

The rescue of Nico Robin, a former archaeologist of Ohara and current Straw Hat crew member, is now etched in history. The Roaring Pirates’ Raya, a devil fruit user known for her potent Nioi Nioi no Mi, pacified Marine forces with her abilities, while Portgas and Donquixote provided strategic support.

The Fear Factor: Marines Panic

There is palpable fear growing within the ranks of the Marines regarding the connection between the Straw Hat Pirates and the Roaring Pirates. Although no formal alliance has been announced, the two crews clearly share more than a passing camaraderie. Both Monkey D. Luffy and Portgas D. Archer carry the ‘D’ in their names—an ominous symbol long whispered about in the annals of history.

Marine officers are now reporting increased panic among their ranks. The sheer damage inflicted at Enies Lobby by these two crews has made them the focus of numerous high-level meetings at Marine Headquarters. The fact that the Roaring Pirates, unlike the Straw Hats, do not shy away from killing their enemies only adds to the mounting terror.

It is well-known that Portgas has no qualms about taking Marine lives, his history of violence stretching back two decades. The Golden Terror has always left a trail of blood in his wake, a stark contrast to Straw hats preference for knocking out his foes without killing them. This willingness to cross lines that most pirates won’t has earned the Roaring Pirates an even deadlier reputation than their Straw Hat counterparts.

Donquixote Rosinante, with his fearsome lineage as the younger brother of the dreaded Warlord Donquixote Doflamingo, only adds another layer to the unease. Though once thought to be the gentle-hearted Marine, his actions at Enies Lobby have proven him to be as formidable and ruthless as any pirate captain on the seas.

The Aftermath: What’s Next?

With Enies Lobby destroyed and CP9 scattered, the world is left wondering: what’s the connection between the Straw Hats and the Roaring Pirates? Are they allies, or is there a more complicated relationship at play? The question lingers: if two pirate crews of this caliber can bring down one of the most secure government installations in the world, what could they achieve next?

The Marines are scrambling to assess the fallout, and many high-ranking officials have admitted they are “gravely concerned” about the growing power of the Roaring Pirates.

This attack has not only bolstered the bounties of both crews but has struck fear into the heart of the World Government. With the flag of the World Government burned and the island of Enies Lobby reduced to rubble, both the Straw Hats and the Roaring Pirates have cemented themselves as the greatest threats the world has seen in decades.

The seas have never been more dangerous, and the world now watches, breathless, as these two infamous pirate crews continue their march towards legend.

Wanted Poster Update:

• Portgas D. Archer (“Golden Terror”): Bounty increased to 400.000.000 Berries
• Rosinante D. Donquixote (“Silent Giant”): Bounty increased to 375.000.000 Berries
• Giles (“The Trident”): Bounty increased to 200.000.000 Berries
• Raya (“The Witch”): Bounty increased to 200.000.000 Berries
• Timble (“Strawberry”): Bounty increased to 2000 Berries

The question on everyone's mind: what will they do next?

By: Morgans, Chief Editor of the World News

Archer lay on the bed, his glasses perched on the bridge of his nose, his hair lazily tied in a bun, and a cigarette dangling from his lips. The headline in front of him screamed about the attack on Enies Lobby. His bare chest rose and fell as he stared at the paper, an odd mix of disbelief and pride bubbling in his chest.

"Shit..." he muttered, flipping through the pages. The article was a grim reminder of what they'd just done—the burning of the Government's flag, the wreckage of Enies Lobby, and the defeat of Rob Lucci. It wasn't that Archer was surprised the world was talking. He knew they'd make headlines. But seeing it in print like this, with their names splattered across the page like notorious war criminals, felt different.

He glanced at the section detailing their new bounties, smirking at the outrageous number next to his name. "Stupid fuckers," he chuckled to himself. "Making me look like a damn king."

Just as he exhaled a puff of smoke, the door creaked open, and Rosinante stepped in, casting a puzzled look at Archer’s sudden burst of laughter.

“What’s so funny?” Rosinante asked, his voice a deep rumble laced with curiosity.

Archer, without a word, tossed the newspaper to him, eyes glinting with amusement as he watched his partner's expression shift. Rosinante’s eyes widened in shock, his mouth falling open as he took in the details of their latest escapade. He looked like a fish out of water, completely floored by the absurdity of it all.

“This... this is real?” Rosinante stammered.

Archer raised an eyebrow. “What did you think it was, a bedtime story?”

Rosinante’s shock quickly morphed into agitation as he began pacing around the tiny cabin, hands flailing in disbelief. "We’re on the front page! They're calling me the ‘Silent Giant!"

His anxious pacing came to an abrupt end when, in true Rosinante fashion, he tripped over a chair and fell—face-first—directly into Archer's groin. The impact sent a jolt of pain through Archer's body, and he doubled over, clutching his manhood.

“SON OF A—" Archer hissed through gritted teeth, swearing up a storm as he writhed in agony.

Rosinante scrambled to his feet, flustered and panicked. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean—"

But in the chaos, Archer’s cigarette slipped from his fingers, falling onto the bed. Within moments, a small flame licked up the sheets, growing dangerously fast.

“Shit!” Rosinante bellowed, his eyes widening as he spotted the fire. Without thinking, he grabbed Archer by the shoulders and yanked him off the bed, throwing him to the floor.

“Are you trying to kill me?!” Archer groaned, still recovering from the earlier assault on his balls, only to be tossed around like a rag doll. Rosinante, meanwhile, was furiously trying to smother the fire with his sleeve, which immediately caught flame in the process.

The cabin was now filled with a mix of Archer’s cursing, Rosinante’s frantic attempts to extinguish the flames, and the smell of burning fabric. In the midst of this absurd scene, a voice came from the door.

"I can't even leave you two alone for a few months without you trying to burn the place down."

Both Archer and Rosinante froze, their heads snapping toward the door. Standing there, arms crossed and looking worse for wear but very much alive, was Ace.

Rosinante, still with his sleeve on fire, blinked in surprise. Archer, who was lying on the floor half-naked and in pain, glanced up with wide eyes, still wearing his glasses.

Ace raised an eyebrow, his expression a mix of exasperation and amusement. “You guys really are crazy, huh?”

Rosinante fumbled to put out the last of the fire on his sleeve while Archer groaned, rolling over to look at his son. “Ace... welcome home," he said dryly.

Ace pulled Archer to his feet, steadying him as Rosinante yanked the smoldering, ruined bedding off the bed and, with a huff, tossed it out the window into the sea. Archer, still wincing and hunched over from the unfortunate incident with his groin, groaned, "WNot that Im not glad to see you kid, but what are you doing here?"

Ace gave a half-hearted smile, one that didn’t quite reach his eyes. "We need to talk," he replied quietly, his tone serious, which immediately grabbed Archer's attention.

As the three of them made their way toward the galley, Rosinante, always apologetic, leaned closer to Archer and whispered, “I’m really sorry about your—”

Archer cut him off, mumbling, “No sex for a week.”

Ace, walking just behind them, groaned loudly. “You two never change,” he muttered, rubbing the bridge of his nose as if preparing for the typical antics of his dads.

Then, eyeing Archer's glasses, Ace smirked, raising an eyebrow. “Since when do you need those? Getting old?” he asked.

Archer shot a playful, yet vengeful glance at Rosinante. “Oh, that’s all him,” Archer said, motioning toward his partner. “Rosi insisted.”

Rosinante, not missing a beat, grinned and chimed in. “He couldn’t see the directions on a map. Got us boxed in a reef for three days until Giles had to push us out.”

Ace snorted, clearly enjoying the jab at Archer’s expense. “You’re kidding.”

“Do I look like I’m kidding?” Archer grumbled, though there was a playful twinkle in his eye. “Three days. Stuck. And he didn’t shut up about it the whole damn time.”

“Couldn’t let it slide,” Rosinante added, laughing as he nudged Archer. “I bought him the glasses after that. Didn’t want to risk him mistaking the Grand Line for East Blue again.”

Ace laughed, shaking his head. "Man, you guys really are something else. Can’t believe this is the same crew that just burned down half of Enies Lobby."

Archer smirked. “Well, we may be idiots, but we’re dangerous idiots.”

“Dangerous idiots with reading glasses,” Ace teased, earning an eye roll from Archer and a chuckle from Rosinante.

But as they finally reached the galley, the laughter slowly faded. The weight of Ace’s earlier words settled back into the room. Whatever had brought Ace here, it wasn’t just for jokes and casual conversation. The air shifted, tension creeping in as they all sat down, waiting for Ace to speak his mind.

Archer leaned forward, his golden eyes narrowing. “Alright, Ace. What’s going on?”

Ace sat down across from Archer and Rosinante, his usual confident air noticeably dimmed. His fingers drummed against the table as if to find the right words. Finally, he took a deep breath, his eyes flicking between his dads. “I’m close. So damn close to finding Blackbeard,” he began, his voice barely above a whisper. “I can feel it... but...”

The weight of those words lingered in the room like a heavy storm cloud. Archer’s eyes narrowed, sensing something deeper in Ace’s hesitation. “But what?” Archer asked, his tone low and serious.

Ace clenched his jaw, his hands balling into fists on the table. His eyes, usually ablaze with confidence, softened as he looked at them. “I think he’s trying to lure me in,” Ace admitted. He paused, then whispered, “Dad... Papa... I’m scared.”

The words hit like a cannon blast. Archer’s breath caught in his throat. Rosinante, sitting next to him, went utterly still. Ace never admitted fear—not to them, not to anyone. That vulnerability cut deeper than any battle wound.

Ace’s eyes dropped to the table, his voice barely audible as he continued, “But I have to finish this. I have to bring him in. He killed Thatch... he betrayed Whitebeard... and I can’t just let that slide. But...”

He didn’t need to say more. The fear, the weight of the burden he carried—it was all written on his face. Archer clenched his fists, a mixture of anger and helplessness welling up inside him. He wanted to tell Ace to walk away, to let someone else deal with Blackbeard. But he knew that wasn't an option. Ace was too much like them: driven, stubborn, and loyal to a fault.

Rosinante, after a moment of silence, reached out, placing a gentle hand on Ace’s shoulder. “You don’t have to face this alone,” he said softly. “We’re here. Whatever happens, you know we’ve got your back.”

Ace gave a small nod, his lips pressing into a thin line. “I know,” he said, his voice cracking slightly. “But this... this is something I have to do.”

Archer leaned back in his chair, exhaling sharply. His eyes locked onto Ace’s. “If Blackbeard wants a fight, then give him hell. But Ace... you come back. No matter what. You understand?”

Ace looked up, meeting Archer’s intense gaze. “Yeah,” he whispered, though the uncertainty lingered in his eyes.

For a long moment, the three of them sat in silence, the gravity of the situation pressing down on all of them. Archer and Rosinante exchanged a glance, both understanding that this wasn’t just another fight. This was something far bigger. And as much as they wanted to protect Ace, they knew he was walking a path only he could walk.

Finally, Archer broke the silence with a low, determined growl. “Blackbeard’s playing with fire. Let him burn.”

The silence between them stretched for a few minutes, heavy and thick, until Ace finally broke it. He leaned forward, trying to shake off the weight of his fear. "So, what else have you guys been up to besides, you know, leveling government facilities and taking out the best assassins the World Government has to offer?" Ace asked, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips.

Archer barked out a laugh, the tension in the room easing just a bit. “Oh, you know, the usual chaos,” Archer replied with a grin. “We’ve been keeping busy.”

Rosinante, however, turned to Ace, his expression softening. “We found Law,” he said calmly.

Ace’s eyes widened in surprise, and before either of them could say another word, he started firing off questions at a rapid pace. “You found Law? Where? How is he? What’s he been up to? Is he—”

Rosinante chuckled, holding up a hand to stop the barrage of questions. “He’s doing... well, for the most part,” Rosi said, smiling gently. “He’s been causing quite the stir on the seas himself. A Surgeon and a pirate Captain, if you can believe it. He’s gotten himself a bounty that makes me think he's been keeping busy too.”

At that, Rosinante handed Ace a wanted poster, and Ace's eyes scanned it, a grin spreading across his face. “Awesome,” Ace said, genuinely impressed. “So, big bro has been making waves.”

Archer, lounging back in his chair with his arms crossed, snorted. “Yeah, waves of emotional constipation. I swear, Law’s the most emotionally repressed man I’ve ever met,” he said, shaking his head.

Ace laughed, looking between them both. “Really?”

“Worse,” Archer groaned. “You’d think he was allergic to showing feelings. He’d rather perform heart surgery on himself than talk about what’s bothering him.”

Rosinante smiled wistfully. “He’s been through a lot, Ace. He’s just... processing everything in his own way. But, deep down, he’s still the same kid I knew. Just a bit rough around the edges.”

Archer, ever the one to lighten the mood, suddenly grinned and said, "Oh, and by the way, we’re also being hunted by your psychopath of a adopted uncle, Doflamingo. That bastard sent some thugs after me. Almost killed me— almost sawed off my damn hand too."

Ace's eyes went wide, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. “Wait, wait, what?!" He turned sharply to Rosinante, a mix of confusion and shock on his face. "Please explain what the hell Dad just told me?”

Rosinante sighed, rubbing the back of his neck, clearly not as amused as Archer was. "It's... complicated," he began, shooting Archer a look that said really, you had to bring that up now?

“More like a damn nightmare,” Archer chimed in, still grinning like it was no big deal.

Rosinante shot him a look before turning back to Ace. “It’s true, though. Doflamingo found out we were looking for Law, which he also is. He’s been sending people after us, found Archer and Timble, your dad was, well, injured pretty badly."

“Pretty badly? I almost lost my hand, Rosi!” Archer cut in, holding up his wrist with a sarcastic flourish. "Would’ve been a damn mess if not for Law!"

Ace looked at Archer in disbelief, then back at Rosinante. “How the hell did that happen? And why didn’t you guys tell me earlier?!”

Rosinante sighed again, his face filled with tension. “Because there’s already so much on your plate, Ace. We didn’t want to worry you. Doflamingo... he’s targeting us for personal reasons, but we’ve managed to handle it. We didn’t want to drag you into it.”

Archer snorted, crossing his arms. “your papa downplaying it as usual”

Ace, still processing, leaned forward. “And you're okay now? You're really okay?”

“Perfectly fine,” Archer replied with a grin. “Still got both hands and a healthy dose of revenge brewing. And trust me, kiddo, when I get my hands on Doflamingo, it’s gonna be a show.”

Ace looked at both of them, still shaken, but understanding. He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Well, damn. And here I thought I was the one with problems.”

Ace, now grinning despite the heavy conversation, leaned back and asked, "So… does Luffy know about all this?"

Archer and Rosinante froze for a moment, glancing at each other with a shared look of realization before they both blurted out, “Fuck!”

“We completely forgot to tell him!” Archer groaned, running a hand through his hair.

Rosinante sighed, rubbing his temples. “How could we forget something like that? But then again, so much shit went down in Water 7… Enies Lobby burning down, Luffy’s fight with Usopp, Garp showing up out of nowhere...”

Archer jumped in, "Yeah, and don't forget the whole 'punching a hole through the damn house' thing, courtesy of Garp’s 'fist of love.'"

Ace burst out laughing. “Garp beating Luffy? And you didn’t think to mention Doflamingo at some point during all that?”

Archer shrugged. “It slipped our minds. Too much chaos, kid. Your brother and his crew have been in one hell of a whirlwind lately.”

Rosinante nodded, looking slightly guilty. “We’ll tell him soon, once things calm down a little. I mean, we’re not exactly trying to stress him out more than he already is.”

Ace shook his head in disbelief, still chuckling. “I swear, you two are impossible sometimes. You forget to mention to your sons that a warlord’s gunning for you like it’s nothing.”

Archer winked, grinning from ear to ear. “Well, we figured we'd let the kid enjoy his victory before dumping that particular news on him.”

Rosinante stood up, stretching as he glanced at Archer and Ace. "Alright, let's go join the others on deck. Does anyone even know you're here, Ace?"

Ace grinned slyly. "Nah, I snuck in through the galley window."

Archer raised an eyebrow, amused. Sneaky little fucker, he thought to himself. "You’re still as crafty as ever," he muttered, shaking his head with a smirk.

As they stepped out onto the deck, the first thing that caught their attention was Timble, riding on Nugget’s back, circling the ship. The dwarf was laughing, gripping the bird’s feathers as Nugget soared over the ocean with ease.

Ace’s eyes widened in disbelief. "What the hell…"

Archer clapped him on the shoulder, grinning. "Oh, that? Timble personally stole Nugget from Rob Lucci at Enies Lobby. Now he’s got the damn thing flying him around like some demented bird knight."

Ace’s jaw dropped as he stared at the sight, still not quite processing it. “You’re all… insane,” he finally managed to say, still watching the flying dwarf in sheer bewilderment.

Rosinante chuckled, nodding in agreement. “Welcome back to the madhouse, Ace.”

Ace shook his head in disbelief. "I swear, every time I see you, things just get crazier."

Raya and Giles stood at the mast, their voices rising in an animated debate. Archer, Rosinante, and Ace paused, intrigued by the spectacle unfolding before them.

“Giles, if you keep telling me how to write this letter, I swear I’ll—” Raya snapped, her hands on her hips, glaring at the fishman.

“Just think of Penguin’s feelings! You can’t throw just anything on the page!” Giles replied, his expression earnest.

Archer exchanged a glance with Rosinante, amused. "What in the world are they arguing about?"

Before Rosinante could respond, Raya raised her voice, exasperated. “I am a former whore, Giles! I’ve probably sucked more dick than Archer!”

Ace, unable to contain himself, burst into laughter, falling to the floor with a wide grin.

Archer jumped up, indignation flashing across his face. “Hey! I may have, but it is the same dick Raya!”

But as they watched, Raya and Giles continued their argument, completely unfazed. They waved at Archer dismissively, still locked in their heated discussion.

“Somehow, I think I’m losing this battle,” Archer said, shaking his head with a chuckle. “But damn, she really knows how to make a point.”

Rosinante smiled, leaning against the rail. “I’m certainly not complaining love.”

Ace picked himself up, still chuckling. “I can’t believe you’re getting dragged into this, Dad.”

“Hey, I’m just an innocent bystander!” Archer exclaimed, throwing his hands up in mock surrender.

As the banter continued, Timble landed gracefully on the deck, and Nugget hopped over to Ace’s outstretched hand, glaring at him with an unsettling intensity.

Ace's eyes widened, suddenly nervous. “Is this bird gonna kill me?” he asked, half-joking but entirely serious.

Timble, with a mischievous grin, looked up at Ace and replied, “Only if you’re a homophobe.”

Archer couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdity. Rosinante leaned in closer, clearly enjoying the moment.

Timble then jumped up onto Archer’s shoulder and held out his tiny hand expectantly. Without thinking twice, Archer pulled a strawberry from his pocket and handed it to the little man. Timble squeaked with delight, chowing down on the berry as if it were a feast fit for a king.

Archer then turned to Ace, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. “You know, a certain blond guy in a suit asked after you,” he teased, watching as Ace’s cheeks flushed a deep shade of crimson.

“Shut up,” Ace muttered, clearly embarrassed. But Archer could see the corners of his son’s mouth twitching upwards, unable to fully suppress his smile.

“Seriously, though,” Archer continued, leaning in with feigned seriousness, “you should take our Den Den and give Sanji a call. For shit's sake! Way to leave a man hanging.”

The moment Ace registered the words, he shot up straight. “Right! I should do that!” He practically sprinted toward the Galley, his face still red as a tomato, as if his ass were on fire.

After what felt like an eternity, Ace returned, his face lit up with an enormous grin that could rival the sun. Archer raised an eyebrow, instantly sensing that the talk with Sanji had gone exceptionally well.

“Alright, spill it!” Archer exclaimed, leaning in closer. “What did you two lovebirds talk about?”

Ace's smile only widened, his excitement palpable. “Luffy and his crew are heading towards something called Thriller Bark,” he announced. “And get this—they met a living skeleton!”

Archer and Rosinante exchanged bewildered glances, their expressions mirroring a mix of confusion and disbelief. It took a moment for the absurdity of the statement to sink in.

“A living skeleton?” Rosinante echoed, scratching his head. “What kind of nonsense is that?”

Archer couldn’t help but muse aloud, “I mean, if he’s a skeleton, does that mean he… poops?”

Rosinante groaned, burying his face in his hands. “Not this again! How do you even come up with these questions?”

“But it’s a legitimate concern!” Archer defended himself, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Imagine the logistics of being a skeleton. Does he eat? Does he just… not? Is there, like, a whole ‘no waste’ situation going on?”

“I can’t believe I’m actually discussing the poop habits of a fictional skeleton with you,” Rosinante sighed, shaking his head but unable to hide a smile.

Ace laughed, clearly entertained by the banter. “You two are ridiculous. But seriously, Luffy said he’s going to help this skeleton, and apparently, he’s got some crazy story about being a pirate and wanting to reunite with his crew.”

As they laughed off the absurdity of their earlier conversation, Raya and Giles strolled over, both of them grinning widely. “Hey, Ace!” Raya called, waving cheerfully.

“Hey!” Ace replied, but there was a note of reluctance in his voice. “I can’t stay long, though. I’m headed to an island called Banaro. Blackbeard’s crew has been spotted there.”

Archer’s heart dropped at the news, worry flooding his veins. “Banaro?” he echoed, trying to keep his voice steady. “That’s not exactly a safe place right now.”

Rosinante's expression mirrored Archer's concern. “Ace, are you sure you want to go there? It’s dangerous.”

“I have to do this,” Ace said, determination flashing in his eyes. “I’m so close to finding him. I can't back down now.”

Before they could protest further, Ace stepped forward and wrapped his arms around both of them. Archer felt a lump in his throat as he hugged his son tightly, whispering fervently, “Take care, Ace. Please don’t take any stupid chances. Just come back alive, okay?”

Rosinante added his own quiet plea, “You know we’re always here for you, no matter what. Just… be safe.”

Ace nodded, his grip tightening around them as if he were trying to absorb all their love and worry in that moment. “I promise,” he whispered, though the fear in his eyes hinted at the uncertainty of that promise.

With one final squeeze, Ace stepped back, his expression both resolved and pained. He glanced back at them as he jumped down onto the Rouge, the ship that would take him on his journey into danger.

As the vessel sailed away, Archer and Rosinante stood on the deck, arms wrapped around each other for support. Rosi laid his arm around Archer’s shoulders, trying to comfort him. “Everything will be alright,” he said softly, though the tension in his voice betrayed his own fears.

Archer nodded, though his heart felt heavy. “He’ll pull through. He always does.”

After a moment of silence, Archer turned to Rosinante, his lips curling into a mischievous smirk. “By the way,” he said, trying to lighten the mood, “my balls still hurt.”

Rosinante burst into laughter, the sound breaking through the heavy atmosphere. “You really know how to keep the mood up, don’t you?” he teased, shaking his head.

“Hey, it’s a valid concern!” Archer shot back, grinning. “Maybe I should write a letter to that skeleton about my tragic injuries.”

Rosi laughed again, and for a brief moment, the worry faded as they both reveled in the ridiculousness of the situation. But deep down, both of them knew the gravity of what Ace was about to face

Chapter Text

Archer sat back, propping his feet up on the galley table, cigarette dangling loosely from his lips. The heavy scent of tobacco filled the room as Raya stood there, staring at him and Rosinante with wide eyes, her mouth slightly agape.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Raya said, her voice a mixture of disbelief and exasperation. “Sabaody Archipelago? That Sabaody? The place crawling with Marines and Celestial Dragons, where a single slip-up gets you turned into a goddamn slave? And if you fight back—an Admiral will be sent to obliterate you!”

Archer gave a lazy shrug, blowing smoke toward the ceiling. “Pretty much sums it up,” he replied nonchalantly.

Raya groaned, rubbing her temples as if the weight of the news was giving her a headache. “Why the fuck would you want to go there of all places? You’re already on the World Government’s most wanted list! And now you’re walking right into their damn stronghold?!”

Rosinante smiled kindly at Raya, though there was a touch of seriousness in his eyes as he spoke. "We got a letter from Law," he explained, his deep voice steady. "He said something’s happening at Sabaody, and it sounds important. Whatever it is, we need to be there. Plus, Ace mentioned after his conversation with Sanji a few days ago that Luffy and his crew are heading the same way."

Archer, leaned back in his chair with a mischievous grin, puffing on his cigarette. “Come on, Raya, think about it! You already kicked Kizaru’s ass once; what can the other Admirals do, really? Besides, we’ve got a chance to free some slaves while we’re there. You’ll get to see Penguin again too. Everybody wins!”

Raya groaned loudly, rubbing her face in frustration. “You know, you two make everything sound so damn simple, but it’s not simple! I’ve seen what those Celestial Dragons are capable of, and don’t get me started on the Admirals…” She trailed off, pacing for a moment before turning back to them. “But... freeing slaves, huh? And Penguin…” She bit her lip, torn between her instincts to stay far away from Sabaody and the undeniable pull of both justice and her personal ties.

Archer raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying her internal struggle. “Admit it, Raya. The chance to punch a Celestial Dragon right in the face, that’s gotta sound pretty sweet.”

“I never said anything about punching Celestial Dragons!” she snapped back, her eyes flashing, though the hint of a smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. “But fine, you bastards. If we're going to that hellhole, I’m in.”

Giles crossed his arms, his eyes narrowing as he studied Archer and Rosinante. "So, are you really saying you'd kill Celestial Dragons just to free slaves?" His voice was steady, but there was an underlying tension there.

Archer didn’t miss a beat, nodding with conviction. “Damn right. Every single Celestial Dragon is an asshole, ugly as fuck, and batshit crazy.” He paused for a moment, smirking. “Well, except for Rosinante, of course. He’s the only good one.”

Rosinante gave a soft chuckle, shaking his head with a bit of self-deprecating amusement. “I’d like to think I’m the exception to a lot of things,” he muttered, his brown eyes twinkling despite the seriousness of the conversation.

Archer leaned forward, that familiar mischievous glint sparking in his eyes. “A quick raid, smash through their defenses, free the slaves, and make those so-called ‘dragons’ piss themselves in fear. Doesn’t that sound like a hell of a lot of fun?” His grin widened as he looked at Giles, waiting for the reaction.

Giles remained silent for a moment, his large shark-like form brooding as he considered it. Then, slowly, a small, dangerous smile crept across his face. “Many Fishmen have been slaves to those Celestial Dragons for years, their lives stolen from them. If you’re serious about making them afraid, count me in. There’s nothing I’d enjoy more than giving those bastards a taste of their own medicine.”

Archer clapped Giles on the shoulder. “That’s the spirit! Let’s show those bastards what real fear looks like.”

Rosinante remained calm but nodded in agreement, his demeanor shifting slightly as the weight of their mission became clearer. “We’ll need to be smart about this. No matter how satisfying it might be to take them down, we can’t afford to be reckless. But Giles is right—freeing the slaves, that’s what matters most. Everything else is just a bonus.”

Giles’ expression hardened. “For the Fishmen, and everyone else who’s been trapped under their thumb for too long.”

Raya, having overheard, snorted from where she was leaning against the mast. “If you’re dragging me into a fight with Celestial Dragons, I better get first punch at one of those ugly assholes.”

Archer grinned widely, looking at his motley crew, the adrenaline already starting to surge in his veins. “Oh, don’t worry, Raya. You’ll get your chance. We’ll all have our fun. But remember, we’re in this to free slaves. The rest—” his grin widened even further, “—is just chaos.”

Archer turned to Timble, who was quietly seated on the table, focused on sewing a harness for Nugget. His tiny hands worked nimbly, the little man sewing with a precision that had always impressed Archer. He gave a little smirk before speaking up, "So, Timble, what about you? You in?"

Timble paused for a moment, his fingers hovering over the fabric. He didn't look up at first, but when he did, there was a flicker of something deep in his eyes—anger. “Yeah,” he muttered quietly, his voice softer than usual. “I was kidnapped from my tribe when I was just a kid. They took me to Sabaody and sold me like... like I was nothing.” He swallowed hard, the emotion clear in his voice, though he tried to hide it. “For me, this is personal.”

The room fell silent for a moment. Even Archer, who was always quick with a joke or a snarky remark, felt the weight of Timble’s words. His usual mischievous grin softened, turning into something more serious, more sad.

Archer glanced at Nugget, who had been perched nearby, watching Timble closely. The bird let out a loud squawk, causing everyone to jump slightly. Archer, the shit-stirrer, cocked an eyebrow and tilted his head towards the bird. “And what about you, Nugget? You in on this too?” He asked, grinning.

Nugget puffed up his chest, giving an exaggerated, indignant squawk, as if understanding exactly what Archer had said. The bird flapped its wings, glaring at Archer with those intense, beady eyes. Archer threw his hands up, laughing. “Shit’s weird, man, but I’ll take that as a yes.”

Rosinante chuckled beside him, shaking his head at the absurdity of it all. “Only you, Archer, would have a conversation with a bird about storming Sabaody.”

Archer winked at his partner. “What can I say? We’re all in this together. Even Nugget’s got a part to play.”

Timble gave a smile, though it was small, and continued sewing the harness, his mind clear. “When the time comes, I’ll be ready,” he said quietly, glancing at Nugget with a small nod.

As they sailed into the harbor of Sabaody, the atmosphere on the ship grew tense. The archipelago loomed ahead, its mangrove trees reaching up toward the sky, but it was the oppressive air of the place that set everyone on edge. Archer could feel it in his bones—the tension, the cruelty, the unspoken horrors that thrived here.

Raya stood by the railing, eyes scanning the streets as they docked. She crossed her arms, her expression hard as stone. "So," she asked, turning to Archer and Rosinante, "where are we going first? Did Law say where he’d be?"

Without missing a beat, Rosinante reached into his jacket and pulled out a slightly crumpled letter, handing it to Raya. “He’s waiting for us at a bar nearby,” he said, his voice calm but carrying that familiar undertone of worry. “Said he’d keep an eye on things until we got here.”

Raya unfolded the letter, scanning it quickly. She gave a sharp nod and handed it back. "Alright. So when do we start?" She arched an eyebrow, her impatience clear.

Archer grinned, the kind of grin that usually meant trouble. "Soon as we’re done with Law and Luffy’s arrived, we raise hell." His golden eyes gleamed with a dangerous spark. “Trust me, once the family’s all together, those Celestial Dragons won’t know what hit ‘em.”

Raya groaned slightly but nodded in agreement. She might have her doubts, but she was in, fully committed, even if she hated the idea of being in such a dangerous place.

As they began walking the streets of Sabaody, Archer couldn’t help but take it all in. Everywhere they turned, there was something awful. Slaves in chains, being dragged along like cattle. The empty, soulless eyes of those under the heel of the Celestial Dragons. And worse, the looks on the faces of the so-called elite, who watched with twisted pleasure.

Archer’s fists clenched involuntarily. The more they saw, the more his blood boiled. He had always known the Celestial Dragons were monsters, but seeing it firsthand? It was worse than he imagined. He glanced at Rosinante, who wore a grim expression. Despite Rosi’s usual soft heart, Archer could tell even he was ready to tear down this corrupt place.

"They're not just scum," Archer muttered under his breath, "they’re lower than that. They're parasites. A disease.”

Rosinante gave a slow nod, his voice low. "And they won’t hesitate to call an admiral if we cause a scene."

"Let ‘em try," Archer spat, his voice full of venom. “I’m not afraid of those bastards.”

They walked past a group of nobles, one of them arrogantly leading a chained woman through the streets like a prize. Archer’s jaw tightened, and he could feel the familiar burn of anger rising in his chest. The urge to act was almost unbearable. He could practically feel Raya’s disgust radiating beside him.

"They really do need to be destroyed," Raya murmured darkly, echoing Archer's thoughts.

"Don't worry," Archer replied, his grin turning savage. "By the time we’re done, they'll wish they never left their twisted little palaces."

Archer blinked, momentarily distracted from the grim reality around him. Among the throng of people, he spotted a familiar green figure, a certain swordsman—Zoro, standing there, staring down a particularly obnoxious noble with a blank expression. Archer couldn’t help but chuckle at the sight.

“Holy shit, is he lost again?” he murmured to himself, shaking his head.

Just as he approached, he heard Zoro’s voice cut through the chaos. “Do you need directions or something?” His tone dripped with sarcasm, and the noble’s face twisted in confusion and indignation. Archer stifled a laugh; for fuck's sake, Zoro! This was one of the many reasons Archer loved the guy.

Zoro was as good at giving directions as Archer was at cooking—meaning he was absolutely terrible at both. Rosinante, however, seemed to have caught onto the impending disaster. He hurried forward, placing a hand over Zoro’s mouth to silence him while dragging him away from the noble like a parent rescuing a child from a tantrum.

“Come on, Zoro,” Rosi said, his voice a mix of exasperation and amusement. “We don’t want to start a fight here.”

“Mmhmph!” Zoro grumbled, still struggling against Rosinante’s grip, a look of utter confusion plastered on his face.

Archer followed them, shaking his head in disbelief. “You know, for someone who fights pirates and marines alike, you really don’t have a clue when it comes to social interactions, do you?” Archer teased.

Zoro shot him a glare, which only made Archer laugh more. “I mean, I’d be concerned if I was that noble. You were about to ruin his day with just a single look,” Archer said, barely able to contain his amusement.

Rosinante released Zoro, who rubbed the back of his neck, still looking disgruntled. “Whatever. Not my fault he looks like a pig,” Zoro muttered, earning another chuckle from Archer.

As they resumed their walk through the bustling streets of Sabaody, Archer turned to Zoro, curiosity sparking in his eyes. “So, do you have any idea where Luffy is?”

Zoro shrugged, a nonchalant expression on his face. “Nope. I’m just looking for some Sake, shit cook keeps it all locked up”

Archer snorted at that, shaking his head. “You’d think a guy like you would have found a way around that by now.”

Raya, overhearing their exchange, couldn’t help but grin. She clapped Zoro on the back with a playful shove. “Well, you’re in luck! We’re headed to a bar right now. Come on, you can join us!”

Zoro’s face lit up with a rare, genuine grin. “A bar? Now that sounds like a plan.” He fell into step beside them, the previous tension of Sabaody seeming to dissipate, at least for a moment.

As they entered the bar, the familiar sounds of laughter and clinking glasses enveloped them, but Archer’s focus was solely on the corner table where Law sat with Bepo and Penguin. The moment Law spotted them, his expression shifted from casual indifference to something that resembled joy. He practically jumped up, rushing towards them but halting just a meter away, his trademark stoicism faltering for a split second.

“Is that a smile?” Archer teased, a grin spreading across his face.

To his surprise, Law actually smiled wider, and it was enough to lighten the atmosphere in the bar. Without hesitation, Archer pulled him into a massive hug, followed closely by Rosinante. They wrapped him in their arms, and for a fleeting moment, the tension that had been building melted away.

“I missed you guys,” Law whispered, his voice barely above the noise around them.

“Missed you too, kid,” Archer replied, feeling warmth radiate through their embrace. It was a rare moment of vulnerability from Law, one that Archer cherished. They pulled back, and Archer introduced Law to Zoro.

“Zoro, meet Law, our oldest brat and Luffy’s oldest brother” he said, gesturing towards his son with a sense of pride.

“Nice to meet you,” Zoro replied, extending a hand.

“Likewise,” Law responded, shaking Zoro's hand, a hint of respect passing between them.

As they settled at the table, the energy shifted back to business. Rosinante leaned forward, a serious expression settling on his face. “So, why did you want to meet here?”

Law glanced around the bar, ensuring their conversation remained private before leaning in closer. “One of the auction houses in Sabaody is run by Doflamingo. If you’re up for it, I thought we could burn it down.”

The words hung in the air, electrifying the atmosphere at the table. Archer's heart raced at the mention of Doflamingo's name. The idea of striking at one of shithead’s operations was enticing, but the stakes were high.

“I like the sound of that,” Archer said, his voice low. “How do you want to play this?”

Law laid out his plan with the precision that Archer had come to admire. “We’ll pose as buyers at the auction. They won’t suspect a thing. We’ll blend in, and once the auction is nearing its end, we’ll strike. Create chaos, and that’s when we’ll make our move.”

Archer nodded enthusiastically. “I can get behind that. A little misdirection can go a long way.”

Rosi leaned forward, catching Law’s attention. “When we attack, we’ll need your crew to help get the freed slaves to safety. We can create a massive distraction—something that will draw attention away from the main entrance.”

Law considered this, nodding slowly. “That could work. If we can free the slaves and get them to safety while the chaos unfolds, we’ll be in a much better position.”

“Exactly,” Rosi added. “And if Luffy shows up, he can help with the diversion. He’ll draw a lot of eyes, and it’ll create the perfect opportunity for us.”

“Speaking of Luffy,” Archer interjected looking at Timble and Nugget. “We might need a little extra help.”

Timble perked up at the mention of Luffy’s name, his eyes sparkling with excitement. Without missing a beat, he hopped onto Nugget’s back, and the little bird flapped its wings energetically, ready for flight. With a swift leap, they were out of the bar, soaring into the sky.

Law raised an eyebrow, watching the duo disappear. “Where did you get that bird from?” he asked, his tone a mixture of curiosity and disbelief.

Archer couldn’t help but chuckle at the question. “Oh, that’s a whole story in itself. Let’s just say Nugget is a… unique addition to our crew.”

Archer gestured for Law to follow him to the bar, eager to grab a drink while they waited for Luffy to show up. They gathered their drinks, the lively atmosphere of the bar swirling around them. As they turned to head back to their table, Archer suddenly found himself face-to-face with a familiar redhead.

“Oh hell no,” Archer groaned, recognizing the smug smirk on Eustass Kidd’s face. “Just what I needed.”

Kidd leaned in, his voice dripping with mischief. “So, goldie, have you changed your mind about that wild night we discussed?” He waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

Archer closed his eyes, silently counting down from ten, trying to suppress the wave of irritation rolling through him. “No, Kidd. I definitely haven’t.”

Kidd leaned closer, seemingly undeterred. “What about that tall fucker from last time? I owe him a proper beating.”

Before Archer could muster a response, Law stepped forward, a fierce glare in his eyes. “Kidd, why don’t you fuck off and leave my dad alone?”

Archer blinked, momentarily stunned. Did Law just call him dad? The word hung in the air like a surprise revelation, and he felt a rush of warmth spread through him.

As Kidd's eyes widened at Law's statement, Archer felt the impending chaos bubbling to the surface. “Wait, hold on. Are you saying hottie here is your dad?” Kidd asked, incredulous. He then turned to Archer with a smirk, his expression turning cheeky. “If that’s the case, he’s the hottest Dilf I’ve ever seen!”

Archer’s face flushed at the unexpected compliment, but before he could formulate a response, Law stepped closer to Kidd, an annoyed glint in his eye. “Do you even know who my dad are?” he challenged, leaning into Kidd’s space.

Kidd shrugged, still smirking. “Nope. Doesn’t matter as long as he’s as pretty in bed as he is right now.”

The exchange turned into a comedic standoff as the two youths argued, completely ignoring Archer’s presence. Archer felt a mix of amusement and exasperation at their banter. While the absurdity of the situation unfolded, he caught Rosinante's eye from across the bar. With a subtle gesture, he signaled for Rosi to come over.

Just as Rosinante positioned himself behind Kidd, his left eye twitching in anger, Law took a deep breath and launched into a tirade. “My dad is Portgas D. Archer, co-captain of the Roaring Pirates, the Golden Terror himself, and the one who defeated Rob Lucci!”

At that bombshell, Kidd’s face went pale, his confidence draining as he took a step back—only to bump directly into Rosinante, who raised an eyebrow in amusement. The tension in the air thickened, and Law continued, his voice rising with anger. “And my other dad is Donquixote ‘Corazon’ Rosinante, co-captain of the Roaring Pirates, the Silent Giant! Not to mention my younger brothers, Fire Fist Ace of the Whitebeard Pirates and Straw hat Luffy, captain of the Straw hats!”

Archer couldn’t help but grin at Law’s impassioned speech, the sense of pride washing over him. But before he could bask in the moment, a loud crash reverberated through the bar, followed by the unmistakable sound of something—or someone—collapsing onto the floor.

Everyone turned to see a hole in the roof, dust swirling in the air, as none other than Luffy had plummeted through, landing directly on an enraged Zoro, who had been quietly nursing his drink at the bar.

“Luffy!” Archer shouted, instinctively moving forward as Zoro’s furious voice rose above the commotion. “What the hell, you idiot?!”

Rubbing his head, Luffy looked up with a wide, goofy grin, completely unfazed by the chaos he had just caused. “Hey! Sorry, Zoro! I was looking for you!”

Zoro pushed Luffy off him with a huff, his face a mix of irritation and amusement. “You can’t just drop in like that! What’s wrong with you?”

Archer gestured to Giles, who let out a long-suffering sigh before getting up and making his way over to where Zoro was currently trying to choke Luffy. The sight was chaotic but familiar: Zoro’s face was a mask of frustration while Luffy continued to grin like a complete idiot, seemingly enjoying the struggle.

Giles, with an eye-roll, intervened, picking both of them up by the scruff of their necks as if they were particularly naughty brats. “Enough!” he exclaimed, his voice carrying a hint of exasperation. “This isn’t a playground, you two!”

As he set them down, Archer could see Zoro’s annoyance slowly fade, replaced by a reluctant grin. Luffy, however, remained blissfully unaware, still giggling at the situation.

In the midst of the commotion, Archer noticed that Kidd had vanished. He’d likely sensed he was fighting a losing battle against the increasingly protective Law, who was now glaring at the spot where Kidd had stood moments before. Archer breathed out, shaking his head. “I’m really getting sick of Kidd’s obsession with me.”

Law raised an eyebrow, genuinely curious. “Has this happened before?”

Rosinante chimed in, nodding with a hint of amusement. “Oh, absolutely. Last time Kidd tried to hit on Archer, I knocked him out cold. It was quite satisfying.”

Law chuckled, the corners of his mouth twitching upward. “Sounds like he’s got a death wish.”

“Or a lack of common sense,” Archer muttered, feeling a mix of irritation and amusement. “I don’t know how he thinks he can win me over like that.”

“Maybe he just likes a challenge,” Rosinante suggested, wrapping an arm around Archer’s shoulders. “But honestly, don’t worry about him. If he comes back, I’ll be here to knock him out again.”

As Giles carried a brooding Zoro and a grinning Luffy over to their table, the atmosphere lightened considerably. Rosinante took the opportunity to introduce Luffy to Law. “This is Luffy, your youngest brother,” he said, a smirk forming on his lips as he observed the impending chaos.

Before Law could react, Luffy bounded forward, wrapping himself around Law with an exuberant grin. “Tra-guy!” he exclaimed, his voice filled with unrestrained enthusiasm.

Law’s eyes widened in shock, his typically stoic expression faltering. The sight of his younger brother clinging to him like an excited koala was both unexpected and amusing. Archer and Rosinante exchanged grins, clearly entertained by the awkward yet heartwarming meeting.

“Uh, Luffy,” Law started, trying to maintain his composure, but the effort was futile as Luffy continued to squeeze him tightly, effectively trapping him. “Can you not…?”

Luffy only tightened his grip, blissfully ignoring Law’s discomfort. “Tra-guy! We’re gonna do awesome stuff together!”

“Yeah, awesome stuff,” Archer echoed, barely able to contain his laughter at the sight. Rosinante chuckled softly beside him, shaking his head at the chaotic family dynamics.

Finally managing to free himself from Luffy’s grip, Law took a deep breath and attempted to refocus. “Alright, let’s go over the plan one last time,” he said, shifting into his usual serious demeanor. Luffy, still grinning, plopped down next to him, clearly excited for whatever was to come.

As they wrapped up their discussion of the plan, a sudden flurry of activity interrupted them. Timble came barreling into the bar, riding Nugget, his small frame vibrating with urgency.

“Guys! Guys!” he shouted, his voice rising above the chatter of the patrons. “I’ve got a message from Franky! It’s about someone named Cami—she’s been captured and is about to be sold!”

At those words, Luffy and Zoro shot up from their seats, their expressions twisting into anger. Archer could practically see the fury simmering just beneath the surface of Luffy’s skin, and Zoro’s grip on his swords tightened, knuckles turning white.

“Which auction house?” Archer asked, heart racing as he braced for the answer.

Timble, panting from his frantic flight, glanced down at a hastily scrawled note. “It’s the one we were just talking about! The one run by Doflamingo!”

Law, hearing this, didn’t waste a moment. He bolted for the door, followed closely by Raya, Penguin, and Rosinante, all of them intent on playing their roles as buyers. Archer felt a surge of urgency wash over him as he realized they were all about to dive headfirst into the fray.

“Alright!” Archer barked, turning back to Luffy, Zoro, Timble, Nugget, Giles, and Bepo, who were all staring at him, eyes wide with anticipation. “It looks like we need to change our approach. We’re not just creating a distraction anymore—we're taking action!”

Luffy nodded eagerly, his earlier excitement now doubled. Zoro cracked his knuckles, ready to unleash his pent-up rage. Timble perched nervously on Nugget’s back, while Giles and Bepo exchanged glances, ready to follow suit.

“Follow me!” Archer commanded, leading the group out of the bar and into the chaos of Sabaody’s streets. “We need to make our way to the auction house and cause the biggest scene we can. The goal is to draw attention away from the auction itself. Make sure they’re focused on us instead of what’s happening inside!”

They moved quickly, the tension in the air thick as they navigated the crowded streets. Archer kept his eyes peeled for any potential threats or opportunities as they approached the auction house. With each step, he felt the adrenaline coursing through him, fueling his resolve.

“Bepo, you and Timble keep an eye out for any Celestial Dragons or Marines. If you see any, signal us immediately,” Archer instructed, his voice sharp.

“Got it!” Bepo replied, while Timble gave a quick nod.

“Luffy, Zoro—get ready to create chaos. I want them so focused on us that they forget all about what’s happening inside that building,” Archer said, glancing back at his youngest son and the swordsman.

“Leave it to us!” Luffy grinned, the thrill of the impending action evident in his expression.

Archer and Giles crouched in the shadows, their hearts pounding as they watched the scene unfold in front of them. The Celestial Dragon, a grotesque figure clad in opulent robes, had just shot a man named Hatchan—someone Giles recognized from his past with Arlong. Archer felt a surge of rage at the sight, and just as he was about to say something, Luffy erupted in fury, charging forward and delivering a brutal punch that sent the Celestial Dragon sprawling.

A grin spread across Archer’s face as pride swelled in his chest. “That’s my son!” he thought, reveling in Luffy’s righteous anger.

But the moment of triumph was short-lived. Bepo and Timble suddenly found them, urgency written all over their faces. “Archer! Giles! We’ve got a huge wave of Marines coming this way!” Timble gasped.

Archer exchanged a quick glance with Giles, who nodded in agreement. They needed to act fast. Without hesitation, Archer transformed into his grizzly bear form, muscles rippling and fur bristling as he charged into the fray, just as Nami and Usopp fell through the roof, creating a commotion above.

With a thunderous roar that echoed throughout the auction house, Archer signaled the rest of their crew. Raya sprang into action, using her powers to incapacitate the potential buyers, her enchanted smells overwhelming their senses. Penguin moved with lethal efficiency, taking down the stunned bidders one by one.

Meanwhile, Zoro was already at work, slicing through giant fishbowl used to hold Cami, his blades a blur of motion. The moment she was freed, she joined the chaos, helping other enslaved individuals escape their bonds. The Straw Hats were in their element, working together seamlessly, while Rosinante threw himself into the fight, delivering devastating blows to the stationed Marines, his strength and speed making him dangerous.

As Archer barreled into the main room, his massive form crashing through the scattered furniture, he let out another mighty roar, scattering the remaining Marines and striking fear into their hearts. He swiped at a couple of soldiers, sending them flying against the walls, crumpling under the force of his blows.

Archer shifted back to his human form just in time to hear a Celestial Dragon barking orders at the approaching Marines, demanding an Admiral to come at once. That was the last straw. With a fierce growl, he drew his halberds and, in a swift motion, severed the head of the arrogant man, blood spraying across the floor. Without a moment's hesitation, he turned to the female beside him, delivering the same fate, her shocked expression frozen as she met her end.

The room erupted into chaos as Archer jumped into the fray, slicing through the ranks of Marines with brutal efficiency. He was a whirlwind of steel, his movements fluid and powerful as he dispatched anyone who dared stand in his way.

Just as he finished clearing a path through the Marines, Archer turned around—and was met with the intense gaze of Eustass Kidd, who had somehow appeared right in front of him. Kidd looked at him with raw lust in his eyes, his voice low and dripping with challenge. “Now I want you even more, blood and all.”

Before Archer could respond, Rosi intervened. He charged forward, grabbing Kidd and flinging him across the room. Kidd landed in a heap, a mix of surprise and annoyance on his face.

Seizing the moment, Archer leapt into Rosinante’s arms, pulling him close. Their lips crashed together in a heated kiss, the world around them fading into the background as they lost themselves in each other.

Raya’s voice cut through the chaos, piercing the din of battle. “An Admiral is on his way! It’s Kizaru!”

Archer’s heart sank for a moment; Kizaru was not someone to take lightly. He quickly turned to Luffy and Law, urgency in his tone. “You all need to get out of here! We’ll handle this. Just go!”

Luffy’s eyes widened with a mix of concern and resolve, but he nodded, understanding the gravity of the situation. He rallied his crew and the freed slaves, urging them to move swiftly. Law and his crew joined the call, leading the charge as they all darted toward the exit, their bodies weaving through the remnants of chaos they had unleashed.

As they made their escape, Archer’s eyes scanned the room for Rosinante. Their gazes met for a brief moment, a silent communication passing between them.

Just as the last of the group slipped through the door, Raya set the house in flames. The fire roared to life, crackling and consuming everything in its path, creating a wall of smoke and heat that would slow down Kizaru and the Marines.

Archer turned to Giles, who was already readying his stance, preparing for the oncoming fight. “Let’s give them a warm welcome,” Archer said with a grin, feeling the rush of adrenaline surge through him once more.

They braced themselves as the door swung open, revealing the figure of Kizaru stepping through the haze, his expression as calm as ever. Archer clenched his fists, ready to charge, to give their friends enough time to escape.

Kizaru strode into the room, his arrogance palpable as he smiled that slow, infuriating grin. “Ah, the Roaring Pirates. I’ve been waiting for this moment for a long time,” he drawled in his bored tone, eyes glinting with malice.

Raya, defian as always, snorted. “The ‘G’ on your forehead suits you perfectly,” she shot back, her voice dripping with disdain. Kizaru’s eye twitched at the insult, his calm demeanor beginning to fray at the edges.

Then, with a wicked gleam in his eye, he turned his attention to Archer and Rosinante. “You should know,” he said, almost gleefully, “your son Ace has been captured and taken to Impel Down. He’s just waiting for his date with the executioner.”

Time seemed to freeze for Archer as those words sank in. Ace. No. It couldn’t be true. Rage ignited within him, and without a second thought, he lunged at Kizaru, fury fueling his movements. “You’re lying!” he shouted, fists clenched.

Kizaru responded with a punch that sent Archer sprawling back, the blow knocking the wind out of him. “It's the truth,” he stated coldly, a smirk still playing on his lips.

Before he could elaborate further, a flash of motion caught everyone’s attention. Timble, of all people, rushed in, sea stone spear glinting ominously in the dim light. With an unexpected ferocity, he stabbed the spear into Kizaru’s eye, causing the Admiral to howl in pain as he crumpled to the ground.

Archer strode purposefully over to Kizaru, who was still reeling from Timble’s surprise attack. Crouching beside the fallen Admiral, he pulled out a dagger with a cold look in his eyes. Without hesitation, he sliced off Kizaru's nose, a visceral act of defiance that sent a message loud and clear.

Standing tall, Archer turned to face his crew, his golden eyes ablaze with righteous fury. “Raise hell! Kill every Celestial Dragon and Marine you can find! Free every slave you encounter!” His voice boomed through the chaos, igniting a fire within each member of his crew. They nodded, a fierce anger shared among them, and charged out of the burning building, ready to wreak havoc.

As Archer plunged into the fray, cutting down Marines left and right, his mind was singularly focused on one thing: Ace. The thought of his son in danger pushed him forward, adrenaline fueling his every strike.

As they boarded the Silence, the acrid smoke of Sabaody hung thick in the air behind them, the sounds of chaos fading into the distance. The sight of several ships filled with freed slaves sailing away to safety provided a bittersweet relief. Archer's heart raced as he scanned the horizon, his eyes fixed on the planned meeting point Law had mentioned.

But as they arrived, the grim reality set in—only the Polar Tang was docked. The Thousand Sunny was nowhere in sight. Panic surged within Archer, and he nearly leapt from the Silence, racing toward Law, who was leaning against the sub, battered and bleeding.

“Where the hell is your brother?!” Archer demanded, voice trembling with urgency.

Law’s gaze dropped to the ground, a heavy silence stretching between them before he spoke. “Kuma the tyrant... he arrived. He beamed them all away.”

The weight of those words crashed down on Archer like a tidal wave. He fell to his knees, a visceral scream escaping him, raw and full of anguish. First Ace, now Luffy? It felt like a cruel twist of fate, and the fire within him ignited into a furious blaze. This was war—there was no other choice.

Rosinante rushed to his side, pulling him up. “We will get them back, Archer,” he whispered fiercely into Archer’s ear, grounding him amidst the chaos of his thoughts.

Law joined them, placing a steady hand on Archer's shoulder. The three of them formed a tight embrace, a moment of unity amidst the despair. “We swear revenge,” Archer vowed.

After exchanging goodbyes with Law, Archer felt a sense of urgency bubbling within him. He told Law to stay alert, promising they would be in touch soon, then turned his focus back to the Silence as it sailed out into the open sea.

As soon as he entered his and Rosinante’s cabin, adrenaline surged through him. He grabbed a pen and paper, scribbling furiously. The words poured out as if his very soul demanded to be unleashed on the world. Every stroke of the pen ignited a spark of rebellion within him, and the message took shape with fierce clarity.

Once the letter was complete, he folded it neatly, then called for Timble and Nugget. The two appeared almost instantly, eager and ready. “Take this to the nearest newspaper! Tell them, if they don't print it, we will burn them down” Archer instructed, urgency coloring his voice.

Timble nodded, mounting Nugget without hesitation. “I’ll be quick!” he declared before they took off into the night sky.

With the task done, Archer felt a wave of exhaustion wash over him. He collapsed onto the bed, the world around him fading as he succumbed to the fatigue.

Rosinante, rushed to his side, lifting Archer gently and laying him down. As Archer's eyes fluttered shut, a sly smile crept across his face even in sleep. Tomorrow, the world would tremble at the news he had set in motion.

To the Bastards of the World Government and the Ingrates of the Marines,

You think your power is absolute, that you can hide behind your titles, your laws, your precious Celestial Dragons, and continue to trample upon the lives of the innocent. You think you can cage freedom and extinguish the flames of rebellion with your tyranny. But you are gravely mistaken.

You have taken from me what I hold most dear: my son, Portgas D. Ace. You dared to snatch him away, to imprison him in your dark, suffocating grasp, to cast a shadow over our family with your twisted machinations. This is not just a personal vendetta; this is a declaration of war. The Roaring Pirates and I, Portgas D. Archer, alongside my partner, Donquixote Rosinante, will make you pay for every life you’ve shattered, every dream you’ve snuffed out!

Your days are numbered. No longer will we cower in the shadows, no longer will we watch you butcher the innocent while you parade around in your pathetic sense of superiority. We are coming for you. We will tear down your walls, burn your strongholds to the ground, and drag your Celestial Dragons from their gilded thrones into the very depths of hell you have created!

I call upon all those who have suffered under your oppressive rule, all those who have lost loved ones, all who have felt the iron fist of your justice crush their spirits—join us! Unite against this evil, against a regime that thrives on fear and cruelty. Let us strike back with the fury of a thousand storms! Together, we will rise to dismantle your empire of despair.

Mark my words: every Marine will be hunted down, every Celestial Dragon will feel the heat of our wrath. You will all die, and when the time comes, you will feel pain unlike any you have inflicted upon the world. Your arrogance will be your downfall.

We are the storm that is brewing on the horizon, and when we unleash our fury, the world will tremble! Prepare yourselves, for the Roaring Pirates are coming to reclaim what is ours and end your reign of terror!

Come, come and join us.

In relentless pursuit of justice,

Portgas D. Archer
Donquixote Rosinante
Co-Captains of the Roaring Pirates

Chapter Text

"Get me Newgate. NOW!" Archer roared, his voice echoing off the cabin walls as he gripped the Den Den Mushi so tightly that its eyes bulged in terror. A thick vein pulsed angrily on his forehead, visible even through the strands of his disheveled blond hair. He paced back and forth, his bare feet slamming into the wooden floor of the captain’s quarters with each step, his fury radiating off him like a storm ready to break.

For two hours—two damn hours—he had been trying to reach Whitebeard, the so-called Strongest Man in the World. But the stubborn old bastard was as elusive as Ace and Luffy had been when they were kids. Archer’s patience had long run out, replaced by a burning rage that made his hands shake.

"I don't give a fuck who you are!" Archer snapped, glaring at the voice on the other end of the line. "I don't care if you're Marco, Jozu, or even fucking God himself. You get me Newgate NOW, or I swear, I'll come over there and rip that mustache off his face myself!"

The Den Den Mushi let out a terrified little squeak, trembling in its shell. Archer could hear some scrambling in the background, whispers passing between crew members, but none of it mattered to him. All he could think about was Ace. His son. His flesh and blood. Stuck in that godforsaken prison, waiting for the inevitable... execution.

No. He wouldn’t allow it.

Rosinante stood quietly in the corner, his towering frame leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. He watched Archer pace with concern etched into his face but said nothing. He knew better than to try to calm Archer when he was in a mood like this. Not after the news they'd received. Not when Ace’s life hung in the balance.

"They're stalling," Archer growled, slamming his fist onto the table, making the Den Den Mushi bounce. "They think they can brush me off. Like I'm just another pirate asking for a favor." His golden eyes, once so full of warmth, now burned with a wild, relentless fire. He was ready to tear the world apart if it meant getting Ace back.

Rosi finally pushed off the wall, walking over to Archer and placing a hand on his shoulder. "You know they'll answer," he said softly, his voice the only calm in the middle of Archer's storm. "Just give it a little more time. They care about Ace too."

"We don’t have time, Rosi!" Archer spat, yanking away from him. He didn’t mean to take his anger out on Rosi, but the fury bubbling up inside him made it impossible to think straight. "Every second that passes is another second closer to..." He couldn’t finish the sentence. The thought of Ace, trapped, helpless, waiting to die—it made Archer want to rip the whole world apart. His breath came in ragged gasps as he tried to steady himself, fists clenched at his sides.

Just then, the Den Den Mushi crackled to life. "Oy, oy, what's all this noise about?" A deep, gruff voice finally came through, the familiar sound of Whitebeard’s unmistakable baritone. "Is that you, Portgas?"

Archer’s grip on the receiver tightened even more, his knuckles white. "Took you long enough, you old bastard," he snarled, but there was no room for pleasantries. "Ace. They’ve got him, and they’re planning to execute him. You’re sitting there on your throne while your so-called grandson is about to be murdered!"

There was a heavy silence on the other end. Archer could almost hear the weight of Whitebeard’s rage as it slowly built.

"You think I don’t know that, brat?" Whitebeard's voice was slow, deliberate. "I’ve been making plans. The whole damn world’s going to feel my wrath for what they’ve done!”

Archer clenched his fists, his golden eyes still burning with fury as he grabbed the receiver once more. "Tell me the plan, Newgate," he growled. His voice was low, threatening, barely restrained. There was no room for misunderstandings or half-baked schemes. Every second was vital now.

Whitebeard was silent for a moment, the weight of the world sitting between the two captains. Finally, the gruff voice returned, steady but filled with its own simmering rage. "We’re going in full force. Every ship, every man, and every ounce of strength we’ve got will be brought to Marineford. We’ll rip that place apart if it’s the last thing we do. But it’s gonna take time to position the fleet."

Archer’s eyes narrowed, his breath heavy as he tried to rein in the maelstrom of emotions crashing within him. Time—of course, it always came down to time, didn’t it? But there was more than one way to wage war.

"Understood," Archer said, his voice cold and sharp as steel. "But we’re taking a different approach. The Roaring Pirates will flank from another side. We’ll be the distraction they never see coming, and when they least expect it, we’ll hit them where it hurts the most. Trust me, Newgate, we’ll make sure they never forget the day they crossed us."

Whitebeard let out a low, approving grunt on the other end of the line. "Do what you have to, brat. Just make sure you don’t die before we’re done."

Archer’s lips curled into a dark smile, his voice dropping even lower. "Oh, don’t worry about us. I’m bringing someone else with me." He paused, knowing this would get the old man’s attention. "Our oldest sons crew will join as well. The Surgeon of Death is with us. Luffy, the youngest and his crew are pt MIA, so don’t count on the Straw hats"

Whitebeard chuckled, but there was no humor in his tone—only the grim understanding of a man who had seen countless battles. "Law, eh? That kid’s got potential. Fine, bring him along. But don’t get in our way. When we’re done, Marineford will be nothing but ashes."

"Wouldn't dream of it," Archer replied, his voice dripping with confidence. "We’ll see you at Marineford, Newgate."

With that, the conversation ended. The line went dead, but the fire raging within Archer only grew. His heart pounded as he tossed the receiver aside, turning to Rosinante, who had been standing by, watching with a quiet intensity.

"We’ve got a plan," Archer said, his voice tight. "We’re moving in, but we’ll make our own path. We strike from the shadows, while Whitebeard’s fleet charges the front. Law and his crew will meet us on the way."

Rosinante nodded, his expression hardened, yet Archer could see the burning desire for revenge in his eyes. Ace was their son, their family. Nothing else mattered now. "We’re getting him back," Rosinante muttered, his voice dark. "And anyone who stands in our way dies."

Archer clenched his fists, nodding. "They took one of our sons... now, we take everything from them."

Archer’s heart stopped for a moment when the Den Den Mushi called again, its ring cutting through the tense air. Without thinking, he snatched the receiver, still charged with the raw energy from his conversation with Whitebeard. "What?!" he barked into the receiver.

A small, familiar voice came through the line, soft but unmistakable. "Dad it’s me... Luffy."

Archer’s breath hitched, his grip on the snail loosening as the shock hit him. His rage vanished for a second, replaced by pure, overwhelming relief. He nearly dropped the receiver, his body trembling as Rosinante hurried to his side, concern etched on his face.

"Luffy?" Rosinante said quickly, leaning over Archer’s shoulder, his voice urgent but filled with the same relief. "Are you okay? Is the crew with you? What happened?"

There was a pause, then Luffy’s voice came back, a little calmer this time. "We’re... we’re okay. We got split up. But it’s fine. We’re all going to train. We’re gonna get stronger, and then we’ll meet up again in two years. It’s the only way we can get stronger... for what’s coming."

Archer and Rosinante exchanged a look, their minds racing. Two years? It was a long time, but if anyone could survive it, it was Luffy. Still, hearing it from their boy—after everything—left them speechless for a moment. What could they say?

Then, Luffy’s voice shifted, his tone growing more serious, more determined. "But don’t worry. I’m going to get Ace back. I don’t care how strong I need to get. I’ll save him."

Archer’s throat tightened, his hand gripping the Den Den Mushi harder. He felt a mix of pride, pain, and fear clashing inside him. He wanted to protect Luffy, to stop him from running headfirst into danger, but he knew his youngest was just like him—just like Ace. There was no stopping him.

"Luffy," Archer began, his voice hoarse but steady, "we’re coming too. We’re going to Marineford. Law’s with us, and Whitebeard... Whitebeard is moving. We’ll be there. You won’t be alone."

There was a long pause on the other end, and then Luffy’s voice came again, softer now. "Thanks dad... but I’ve gotta run. I’ll see you soon.. I love you both"

Before Archer could respond, the line went dead.

He stood there for a moment, the silence in the room deafening. Slowly, he lowered the receiver, his mind swirling with everything that had just happened.

Rosinante stepped forward, his breath trembling, and wrapped his arms around Archer, pulling him into a tight embrace. His face buried into Archer’s shoulder, and Archer felt the dampness of Rosinante’s silent tears against his neck. The weight of everything—the news about Luffy, Ace, the looming war—was too much for them to hold back any longer. Here, alone in their cabin, they could finally let it all go.

Archer closed his eyes, holding Rosinante tightly in return, his own tears slipping free. He didn’t sob, but the silent pain in his chest ached like a storm raging inside him. They stood there, locked in each other's arms, allowing themselves this brief moment of vulnerability that they would never show the crew.

After what felt like a small eternity, Rosinante pulled back slightly, his hand gently running through Archer’s hair, smoothing it down as if to offer comfort in the only way he could. His voice was soft, barely above a whisper, as he muttered, "I’ll call Law… tell him the plan."

Archer nodded, still processing everything that had happened. He wiped the lingering tears from his eyes and took a deep breath, pulling himself together. "Yeah... do that." His voice was hoarse, but he managed to steady it.

As he moved toward the door, preparing to put on his captain's mask once more for the crew, Archer paused. He glanced back at Rosinante, his golden eyes still wet but filled with love. "I love you," he said quietly, the words heavy with everything he felt in that moment.

Rosinante smiled through his tears, nodding back at him. "I love you too, Archer."

With that, Archer turned and stepped out of the cabin, his heart heavy but his eyes hardened. He had to brief the crew, but the weight of their shared pain, their love, would carry him through. Nothing was going to stop them now. Not the Marines. Not the World Government. Not even the gods themselves.

As Archer stepped out onto the deck, the wind ruffled his hair, and he could see the familiar faces of Giles, Raya, Timble, and Nugget already assembled and waiting for him. Their expressions were serious, bracing themselves for whatever orders were to come, even the bird. The atmosphere was tense, the weight of what was ahead pressing down on all of them. Archer could feel it too, deep in his bones, but this was the moment where they would see who truly stood by their side.

He walked toward them, his steps deliberate, his face still marked by the raw emotions of the cabin. When he reached the center of the group, he stopped, crossing his arms as he faced his loyal crew. "Listen up," Archer began, his voice carrying over the deck like a heavy weight. "Whitebeard has a plan, and we're going to follow it—mostly. But Rosi and I have decided we'll take a different approach, flank 'em from the side. We're going in no matter what."

He sighed, running a hand through his hair before continuing. "But I need to be straight with all of you." His golden eyes swept across their faces, locking on each of them for a moment. "This is going to be bigger than Sabaody. Bigger than what we did to those damn Marines and Celestial Dragons. We're talking all-out war with the World Government, and... it's not going to be pretty."

Archer clenched his fists. "I won’t force any of you to follow us into this. It’s too much to ask, even for a crew as loyal as you’ve all been. You’ve fought beside us, and I’ll never forget what we did back there, but this? This is different." He took a deep breath, the weight of his words hanging in the air. "If you choose not to come, I won’t hold it against you. You can stay behind. No shame in that."

There was silence for a moment as his words sank in, and Archer could feel the tension in the air grow thicker. He knew he was asking too much, even of these battle-hardened companions. But as he met their eyes once more, he could see something burning within them—something fierce and unyielding.

Raya, bold as always, stepped forward first, her purple eyes flashing with purpose. "You really think we’d sit this one out, Archer?" she scoffed, arms crossed. "After everything we’ve been through? After Enis Lobby? Sabaody? You’re out of your damn mind if you think we’re going to abandon you and Rosi and your brats now."

Timble nodded eagerly from his perch on Nugget, the two of them looking as ready as ever. "We’re with you. No matter what!" Timble chirped, his small voice strong.

Giles, the calmest of the bunch, stepped forward and placed a hand on Archer’s shoulder. "You’re family, Captain," he said simply, his deep voice steady as always. "We fight together. We die together, if need be."

Archer looked at each of them, his heart swelling with gratitude and pride. He gave them a small nod, his voice rough with emotion. "You’re damn fools, all of you." He smirked. "But I wouldn’t have it any other way."

Archer took a deep breath, focusing on the task ahead. His voice grew sharper as he shifted into command mode, giving orders with precision. "Raya," he called out, turning to her, "I want explosives—big ones. We're talking sea stone bombs, smoke grenades, anything that'll make a hell of a bang." He paused, thinking quickly. "And make sure we’ve got enough to level a damn Marine base if need be."

Raya grinned wickedly. "On it, Captain," she said, already mentally mapping out what she’d need to craft the arsenal he requested.

Timble, perched on Nugget’s back, chimed in, unable to contain his excitement. "Hey, Captain! The next island has a Marine base. And rumor has it, they’ve got a whole stockpile of explosives!" His eyes gleamed with mischief. "We could hit 'em hard, take everything we need."

Archer turned his sharp gaze to the little guy, a grin spreading across his face. "Good work, Timble. Looks like we’ve got a raid to plan."

With that, he turned to Giles, the sturdy Fishman, who was already prepping for action. "Giles, get us there. Full speed. We've got a Marine base to tear apart."

Giles nodded with a determined glint in his eyes. "Aye, Captain."

As the crew jumped into motion, Archer felt Rosinante’s presence behind him. He didn’t need to turn around to know it was him. Rosi’s quiet, steady steps brought a calm over the chaos. "I told Law the plan," Rosinante said, walking up beside Archer. His voice, always a steadying force, was now laced with the same readiness Archer had felt brewing inside him since Sabaody.

Archer nodded, still in command mode. "Good. Timble's idea to raid that Marine base is solid. It'll give us what we need to blow the hell out of whatever gets in our way."

Rosinante looked down at Timble, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "Nice one, Timble," he said, nodding in approval.

Timble beamed, puffing up with pride. "Thanks, Rosi!"

Rosinante turned back to Archer, his tone softening as he added, "I also called Zeff. Let him know Sanji’s off training for the next two years, so he shouldn’t expect to hear from him."

At that, Archer grinned wide, his sharp gaze flickering with amusement. "You told Zeff? And you’re still standing?" He gave Rosinante a playful look. "You sure your ears are okay? 'Cause I can only imagine the kind of yelling you got from him."

Rosinante chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. "Yeah, I think I’m half-deaf now, but I survived. Barely."

Archer let out a deep laugh, shaking his head. "That old man sure knows how to scream. But good. At least Zeff’s in the loop."

The raid unfolded flawlessly, a symphony of chaos and carnage as Archer and the Roaring Pirates descended upon the Marine base. They looted every room, taking anything that might be useful for their impending war while leaving a trail of destruction in their wake. The air was thick with smoke and the acrid scent of gunpowder, but amid the frenzy, they kept their focus sharp, ensuring no Marine escaped to report their actions.

Giles returned from a different part of the base, a bewildered look on his face. "Captain!" he called, his voice cutting through the aftermath of their rampage. Archer turned, raising an eyebrow at the sight of his friend dragging a man behind him—a prisoner.

Archer stepped closer, studying the man. “Who’s this?” he asked, his tone shifting to one of curiosity.

Giles grinned, excitement evident in his voice. "His name's Gin. Used to be with Don Krieg."

Archer's mind flashed back to the Baratie, the chaotic battle where Luffy had made a name for himself. "Wait," he mused aloud, "wasn't he the one Luffy beat the crap out of?"

Gin nodded vigorously, a sheepish grin forming on his lips. "Yeah, that was him! I was with Don Krieg, but I got out of that life thanks to Sanji. He saved my life."

Archer looked around at his crew, silently gauging their reactions. He saw understanding and a hint of camaraderie reflected in their eyes. They’d all faced their demons; Gin’s past didn’t make him a threat—it showed he had the potential for a fresh start.

“Do you know who we are?” Archer asked, fixing Gin with an intense gaze.

Gin nodded, his expression turning serious. “Everyone knows the Roaring Pirates. You’re legends!”

Rosinante stepped forward, a playful smile tugging at his lips. “So, you want to be a legend too?”

At that, Gin’s face lit up with enthusiasm. “Really? Uhem yes!”

Archer crossed his arms, leaning back slightly as he studied Gin. “Alright then. Welcome aboard.” He motioned for Giles to step forward. “Giles, brief Gin on our plan for rescuing Ace. He’ll need to know what he’s getting into.”

Giles nodded, his demeanor shifting into one of the serious instructor. “Got it, Captain.” He turned to Gin, starting to explain the intricacies of their plans—the route they would take, the allies they would seek, and the brutal lengths they were prepared to go to in order to save Ace from the hands of the World Government.

As Giles spoke, Archer felt a flicker of hope.

Later that evening, Archer and Rosinante found a quiet spot on the Silence, pulling Gin aside for a more in-depth conversation. They wanted to know about the man they had just rescued and how he could fit into their plans.

“Alright, Gin,” Archer began, adopting a serious tone. “Let’s talk about your past, your skills, and what you bring to the table. We need to know what you’re capable of.”

Gin shifted in his seat, his expression turning thoughtful. “Well, I’m skilled in close combat, both with guns and swords,” he said, pride evident in his voice. “I’ve trained a lot in hand-to-hand fighting too.”

Rosinante nodded appreciatively. “That’s good to hear. We could always use more muscle around here.”

“And what about your interests?” Archer pressed, eager to understand the man beyond his fighting capabilities.

“I like to cook,” Gin said, his tone brightening. “And I’m pretty good at it. Took a interest after watching  Sanji.”

A shared smile passed between Archer and Rosinante. Finally, someone who could handle the kitchen besides Raya! “That’s great! We can always use a cook on board,” Rosinante said. “What else do you enjoy?”

“I like to fish,” Gin continued, enthusiasm spilling over. “It reminds me of simpler times.”

Archer and Rosinante exchanged nods, satisfied with Gin’s responses. “Sounds like you’ll fit right in,” Archer said. “Why don’t you go find Giles? He’ll get you set up with your own cabin. Everyone on the Silence has their own private space.”

Gin stood up, ready to head off, but before he left, he handed them a folded newspaper. “You might want to read this,” he said, his tone shifting to something more serious.

Archer's eyes widened as he spotted his letter prominently displayed on the front page of the newspaper. He felt a swell of pride mixed with disbelief. Timble had really pulled through.

As he skimmed through the article, he couldn’t help but grin.

Roaring Pirates Declare War: A Message to the World Government!

In an unprecedented turn of events, the notorious Roaring Pirates, led by the fearsome duo Portgas D. Archer and Donquixote Rosinante, have officially declared war on the World Government following the release of a fiery letter that resonated across the seas. This bold proclamation, coupled with their recent actions at Sabaody, has sent shockwaves throughout the marine world and beyond, igniting a flame of rebellion that many believed had long been extinguished.

Just days ago, the Roaring Pirates launched a ferocious assault on Sabaody, wreaking havoc upon the Marines and Celestial Dragons. Eyewitnesses report that Portgas and his crew moved with a singular purpose: to kill any Marine or Celestial Dragon they encountered. The streets ran red with the blood of the oppressors as the Roaring Pirates cut down their enemies, leaving behind a scene of utter chaos and destruction. In a bold display of defiance, they freed countless slaves, returning dignity and hope to those who had suffered under the yoke of tyranny.

Among the highlights of the raid was the brutal confrontation with Admiral Kizaru. In a stunning turn of events, the Roaring Pirates managed to maim the once-untouchable Admiral, a move that has left the Marines reeling. This act of violence has fueled rumors that the Roaring Pirates are no longer a mere nuisance but a legitimate threat to the established order.

As news of their rebellion spreads, whispers of an alliance between the Roaring Pirates and the legendary Whitebeard himself have surfaced. Reports indicate that the entire Whitebeard fleet is on the move, and many speculate that they intend to join forces with Portgas and Donquixote. This newfound alliance has sent tremors of fear through the ranks of the Marines and has left many pirate crews emboldened to take up arms against the Marines and World Goverment. Raids on Marine bases and ships have become increasingly common as other crews rise in solidarity with the Roaring Pirates, each seeking to carve their own piece of freedom from the oppressive regime.

With the world now aware that Portgas D. Ace, the beloved son of Portgas D. Archer and Donquixote Rosinante, has been captured by the Marines, the stakes have never been higher. The revelation of his lineage has ignited a fire in the hearts of many, uniting pirates under a common cause. The cries for vengeance are growing louder, and many see this as a pivotal moment in the battle against the World Government.

In response to the escalating chaos, the Marines have summoned all seven Warlords to Marineford. This desperate plea for assistance underscores the severity of the situation as the fear of impending doom looms large over the Marines. With the combined might of the Warlords, the Marines hope to fortify their defenses and prepare for the inevitable clash against the Roaring Pirates.

As the tension builds, the world holds its breath. The clash between the Roaring Pirates and the Marines is not just a battle of strength; it represents a struggle for freedom, justice, and the right to fight back against oppression. The Roaring Pirates have lit the fuse, and as they gather their forces and plot their next moves, one thing is certain: the world will never be the same again.

Without a word, Archer jumped into Rosinante’s arms, kissing him for all he was worth. The world around them faded into insignificance, the chaos of their surroundings drowned out by the intensity of their connection. Archer poured every ounce of emotion he felt into that kiss—anger, fear, love, and hope all melding together in a desperate embrace.

New and improved Gin

Chapter Text

As Rosinante stood before the table in the galley, every pair of eyes was fixed on him. They had just finished eating when he got up, his tall frame looming over the dimly lit room. Archer leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, watching Rosinante with a quiet intensity. This was it—the moment they had been preparing for.

Rosi’s voice cut through the silence as he began explaining the plan in precise detail. “Giles, Raya, you two will swim to the east side of Marineford,” he started, his voice calm but firm, “and place bombs along the walls. Make sure to hit the structural weak points.” Giles nodded with a grin, while Raya gave a sly smirk, clearly eager for the destruction to come.

“Timble, Nugget,” Rosi continued, turning to the dwarf and his feathered companion. “You’ll be doing the same on the western side of the walls. Once your charges are set, get back to the Silence. We don’t need anyone getting caught.”

Timble’s face lit up, and Nugget gave a caw of approval. It was clear they were ready for whatever chaos would follow.

Rosinante took a breath, glancing at Archer for a moment before laying out the rest of the plan. “When the explosives are in place, I’ll reverse the soundfield,” he said, a hint of something dangerous flickering in his eyes. “Once the walls blow, the sound will amplify—tenfold. It’ll shake Marineford down to its foundation.”

Everyone in the room nodded, the gravity of the plan settling in. Archer's mind was already racing, anticipating what was to come. But he knew Rosinante had more to say, and he waited.

“And then,” Rosi continued, his voice dropping slightly, “Archer, Gin—you two will be thrown over to the main building. You’re to take out everyone inside.” He paused for a second, locking eyes with Archer. “Everyone except the innocent—civilians, cleaning staff, anyone who has no hand in this war. Spare them.”

Archer nodded. His golden eyes narrowed with focus, already imagining the bloodbath that awaited. Gin gave a stiff nod, his face grim but resolved. They both knew their roles well.

“After that, you’ll plant more explosives inside the main building,” Rosi said, “then sneak back to the east side. We’ll meet up, detonate the charges, and blow the place sky-high.”

The room fell silent again as Rosinante finished. The weight of the mission hung heavily in the air, but no one flinched.

Rosinante continued, his voice steady as he laid out the final piece of the plan. "When the explosions die down," he said, his gaze shifting to Archer, "you’ll transform into your bear form and give a roar like never before."

Archer nodded, his expression cold. He knew what that roar would mean—not just an announcement of their presence, but a message to everyone on that battlefield. It would be a roar that would shake the very soul of Marineford.

Rosi added, "The explosion and the roar will buy us time. Enough time for Whitebeard to arrive with his commanders. He’ll hold almost all of their attention." His voice was calm, but his words carried weight. "That’s when we move. While everyone’s focused on Whitebeard, we’ll approach from the rear, striking when he gives the signal."

The crew nodded in unison, the tension rising in the room. The coordination between the Roaring Pirates and Whitebeard’s fleet would have to be perfect—one misstep, and everything could fall apart. But there was no fear in anyone’s eyes. Only focus.

"For the part of freeing Ace," Rosinante continued, "Law’s in charge. When the fight begins, Timble and Raya will join his team. Your mission is to get Ace out of there. Nothing else matters." His voice held a rare intensity, the importance of the task echoing in his words.

Raya and Timble both nodded, their expressions serious. They knew what was at stake—Ace wasn’t just another mission. He was their captain’s son, and no one was going to let him die at the hands of the Marines.

Archer stood up, stepping next to Rosinante. His golden eyes scanned the crew, and his voice was sharp as he addressed them. "While Raya, Timble, and Nugget join Law's team to free Ace, it’s up to the rest of us—me, Rosi, Giles, and Gin—to handle the Warlords."

He began pacing, laying out the targets one by one. "Boa Hancock, Gecko Moria, Mihawk, Jinbei, Kuma... and, of course, Doflamingo." His voice hardened as he said the last name, eyes flicking toward Rosinante. "We need to take them out—quickly and brutally. But we’ve got to be extremely careful with Mihawk and Kuma. Avoid them if possible, unless there’s no other choice."

Rosi’s voice, normally calm, dropped to a dangerously cold tone. "Doflamingo is mine," he stated, leaving no room for argument. His expression darkened, making it clear that he had no intention of letting his brother walk away from Marineford alive.

The room was thick with tension until Giles unexpectedly broke the silence. His voice was steady, but there was an unmistakable weight to his words. "Jinbei… he’s my older brother. I’m sure he’s not there voluntarily, so we can cross him off the list."

A stunned silence followed Giles' revelation. Archer's eyes widened, and he glanced at Rosinante, whose expression reflected the same shock. They all just nodded, absorbing the unexpected twist.

Gin, stepping forward with fire in his eyes and said, "I’ll take on Gecko Moria." There was a subtle fire in Gin’s eyes, a man with something to prove.

Archer nodded, looking around at his crew. His eyes landed on Rosinante before he added with a grim smirk, "Well then, that leaves Lady Hancock to me."

The room settled into a collective understanding. Each one knew their role, knew the enemies they would face. The Warlords were powerful—legendary even—but the Roaring Pirates were coming for blood, and they wouldn’t stop until every one of their enemies was taken down.

Timble’s voice broke the tense silence. "What about the Admirals?"

Archer sighed, knowing the weight of what he had to explain. His brow furrowed as he leaned against the table, addressing the crew. "The three Admirals will definitely be there. Kizaru—whom we've already tangled with, Aokiji, and Akainu. Out of the three, Akainu is by far the most dangerous. He’s not just powerful, he's ruthless, with a devil fruit that grants him control over magma. He won’t hesitate to kill anyone in his way, no matter the cost."

The room tensed as Archer continued, explaining the abilities of each Admiral. "Aokiji controls ice, and while he’s cold in both power and demeanor, he's not as bloodthirsty as Akainu. But still, don't underestimate him. Kizaru—well, you’ve all seen him. He moves at the speed of light, and though he acts like nothing bothers him, that makes him unpredictable. All three are lethal."

He let the information sink in before adding, "If any of you get the chance to take one of them down, don’t hesitate—kill them. But if you can’t, avoid them. Engage only when necessary."

Rosinante, who had been listening quietly, suddenly spoke up, his voice filled with grim determination. "Sengoku will also be there. He may not be an Admiral anymore, but don’t be fooled—he’s just as dangerous, if not more so. He’s been in command for years and knows every trick in the book." Rosinante’s eyes scanned the crew, his tone hardening. "Be very careful around him. But if it comes down to it—if you’ve got him in your sights—kill him."

Raya leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms as she asked, "Do we know how and when Luffy’s going to arrive at Marineford? And what exactly is his role in all of this?"

At her question, both Archer and Rosinante exchanged knowing smiles. They couldn’t help it—thinking about Luffy always managed to bring a bit of a smile to their otherwise hard expressions, especially with the battle looming ahead.

Archer chuckled, his voice laced with a mixture of fondness and exasperation. "Luffy’s role?" He glanced over at Rosi, who was also trying not to grin. "His role is to be himself. To do what he does best—create as much chaos as his rubber body can make."

Rosinante nodded, adding with a smirk, "And trust me, that’s a lot. Luffy’s our joker, our wildcard in all of this. He’ll charge in with no plan, but somehow—through sheer will and luck—he’ll make a mess of things and distract half the Marines while we focus on the important stuff."

The crew began to grin, fully understanding the nature of Luffy’s unpredictability. The Straw Hat Pirate had a knack for turning situations on their head, and that was exactly what they needed.

Raya, laughing lightly, stood up and stretched. "A wildcard, huh? Well, I guess if anyone’s gonna bring down half the Marineford in one go, it’s Luffy."

"Exactly," Archer replied with a grin of his own. "He’s gonna turn that place upside down, and while everyone’s too busy trying to figure out what the hell’s going on, we’ll be handling the real business."

With that, Raya nodded and headed off toward her cabin, when she returned, her arms were piled high with clothes, a grin spread across her face. She walked around the table, handing a carefully wrapped bundle to each crewmember, her smile growing as she did so. "I've been working on these since before Sabaody," she announced, "and they’re special—tailored to match each of your personalities and fighting styles."

Archer was the first to unfold his bundle, revealing a sleek, all-black outfit. A fitted black shirt and pants, perfectly cut, with the roaring bearhead—their crew’s symbol—emblazoned on the left side of the chest. He grinned wide. "This is awesome, Raya!"

Rosinante, curious, eyed his own bundle before looking up at her. "How did you even get everyone’s measurements?" he asked, a hint of suspicion in his voice.

Raya grinned mischievously, her eyes glinting with amusement. "I measured all of you while you slept. And nice ass, by the way!" she added, winking at Rosinante.

Rosinante’s face turned a bright shade of red as he sputtered, clearly caught off guard. "I—uh—what?" He stammered, completely flustered.

Archer, unable to hold it in any longer, burst out laughing, doubling over with tears in his eyes. Giles and Timble quickly followed, their laughter filling the room as Rosinante’s embarrassment deepened.

Gin, standing to the side, looked on with wide eyes. Turning to Giles, he whispered hesitantly, "Do the captains really let the crew talk to them like that?"

Giles clapped Gin on the shoulder, still chuckling. "Archer and Rosinante are the best captains I’ve ever had. And yeah, we’re all equals on this ship. No one’s above anyone here."

At that, Gin relaxed, a smile tugging at his lips as he held his own bundle of clothes.

As the crew’s laughter began to settle, the Den Den Mushi rang, its familiar tone cutting through the air. Rosinante, who was closest, reached for it and picked it up.

"Yeah, we’re ready," Rosinante said into the receiver, his voice calm yet firm. He listened for a moment, nodding as he absorbed the details. "Understood. The Heart Pirates will stay submerged until Whitebeard arrives. Got it." He then hung up, turning toward Archer and the rest of the crew, his face more serious now.

"It was Vista," Rosinante informed them. "He says the blockade is nearly complete, and the Moby Dick will go underwater tonight. Tomorrow morning, the battle begins."

The air in the galley shifted, tension creeping in as the reality of their situation hit. This was it—the beginning of the war. All eyes were on Archer as he turned to Giles.

"How far away are we?" Archer asked, his voice steady but edged with the weight of the impending battle.

Giles, always quick to respond, didn't hesitate. "Two hours from the eastern side of Marineford."

Archer nodded, processing the information. He turned back to the crew, his expression resolute. "Alright, everyone, get yourselves ready. When you’re done, help Raya with the explosives. We don’t have time to waste."

Without another word, the crew dispersed, their footsteps echoing through the ship as they moved to prepare for what was undoubtedly the most dangerous mission they had ever undertaken. Raya was already on her feet, heading towards the storage room where the bombs and gear were stored. Archer, watching his crew, felt a surge of pride—this was the family they had built, the team they would trust with their lives.

Rosinante, still standing near the Den Den Mushi, caught Archer’s eye. No words were needed between them. The stakes were clear. Tomorrow, everything would change.

In the darkness of the night, Rosinante set his plan into motion. Archer stood beside him, tension crackling in the air as Timble and Nugget took off into the starry sky, their small forms quickly disappearing from sight as they headed toward their designated targets. Simultaneously, Giles and Raya, with Raya balanced on Giles’s back, slipped beneath the waves, their silhouettes blending into the shadows of the ocean.

Now came the waiting game. Archer’s heart raced, the weight of the mission heavy in his chest. He reached for Rosinante's hand, needing the warmth and comfort of his partner’s presence to ground him.

Turning towards Rosinante, Archer whispered, “Be careful. Watch out for your brother. Don’t take any chances.” His eyes were earnest, a silent plea for Rosinante's safety that he hoped conveyed everything he felt.

Rosinante leaned down, brushing his lips against Archer’s in a soft, reassuring kiss. “I promise I’ll be careful,” he replied, his voice low but steady. “Just promise me the same.”

Archer nodded, feeling a mix of gratitude and fear as their moment lingered, grounding him further. Just as they pulled away, Timble and Nugget returned, their expressions alert as they prepared for the next phase. The quiet night around them seemed to pulse with anticipation, the calm before the storm that was about to unfold.

Archer turned to Gin, his voice steady as he asked, “Are you ready to do our part?” Gin nodded, the excitement and nervousness palpable in his eyes. With a swift motion, Rosinante picked up Archer and pressed a quick kiss to his lips before tossing him over the walls. Archer felt a rush of adrenaline as he soared through the air, landing with a thud on the ground below. Grateful for the dark clothing Raya had made for them, he quickly adjusted to his surroundings, becoming one with the night.

Gin landed beside him, eyes wide with awe. Archer smirked at him, whispering, “For your first time being thrown, you did awesome.” A grin broke across Gin’s face, and they exchanged a moment of camaraderie before moving forward.

They sneaked into the main building, quiet and quick. With lethal efficiency, they dispatched every Marine they encountered, whether they were awake or asleep. Archer had no time for hesitation; each strike was swift, ensuring no one would raise the alarm.

As they moved through the building, they woke the cleaning staff, urging them to escape and not to tell anyone about what was happening. The realization that it was the Roaring Pirates brought smiles to their faces, and they hurried out through the service door, gratitude mixed with excitement.

“Let’s make some noise,” Archer said with a grin, and he began placing explosives around the building. Gin disappeared into an office, returning moments later with a stack of papers tucked under his arm. Archer raised an eyebrow, curious.

“What’s that?” he asked.

“It’s plans, letters, and secret information from the admirals,” Gin replied, his excitement infectious.

Archer’s smirk widened. “You’re brilliant!” They quickly finished setting the explosives and made their way toward the east side, rejoining the rest of the crew.

Now, it was only a matter of time and waiting. When the sun would be raising the horizon, Raya would  set the explosives off, and Archer’s anticipation surged. The dawn would bring chaos, and they would be at the heart of it.

Chapter Text

Any minute now… Archer’s gaze was fixed on the sky, his fists clenched so tightly his knuckles turned white. The anticipation crackled in the air like static before a storm. In any moment, they’d drag Ace out, chained, toward the execution stand. Those bastards wanted a spectacle, to make a mockery out of his son.

“No way in hell,” Archer growled under his breath. His golden eyes burned with fury. They were going to die—every single one of them. Slowly. Painfully.

He stood beside Rosinante, who was crouched and ready to reverse his sound barrier at the exact right moment. Gin was beside him, face pale but ready, clutching his tonfa weapons tightly. The rest of the crew was spread out, explosives set and waiting. It was all about timing now.

A roar rose from the crowd as the gates to the execution platform creaked open. The sound of chains echoed across Marineford as Ace was led out, shackled and beaten, his head down.

Archer’s heart dropped into his stomach. Ace. His boy.

For a split second, he felt a wave of fear grip him, but it was quickly overtaken by a burning rage. He glanced at Rosinante, who gave him a quick nod, and then back to Ace. The moment was almost here.

Archer’s heart lurched as Sengoku, the Fleet Admiral himself, walked up the steps to stand beside Ace. His towering figure was as commanding as ever, but this was the man who had once saved Rosinante’s life when he was just a child. Now, here he was, preparing to oversee the execution of their son. The twisted irony of it all boiled Archer's blood.

Sengoku raised his hand to silence the crowd, his voice thundering across the battlefield. “Ace, son of Gol D. Roger. The world’s greatest criminal. A man destined to be the king of the pirates.”

The crowd gasped, and Archer's grip on his blades tightened. He could feel Rosinante beside him tense up as Sengoku continued. “Whitebeard planned for Ace to succeed him, to inherit his throne and become the next Pirate King!”

Ace, battered and bruised but far from defeated, suddenly roared in defiance. "You’re wrong! My parents are Portgas D. Archer and Donquixote Rosinante! You don’t know a damn thing about me!" His voice rang through the plaza, a sharp rebuttal that cut through the lies.

The plaza fell silent, and for a moment, even Sengoku seemed thrown off by the unexpected declaration. He paused mid-speech, his eyes narrowing as he looked down at Ace.

Archer’s heart swelled with pride.

Sengoku’s lips curled into a grim smile. "It doesn’t matter" he said coldly, his voice now filled with cruel finality. “You could claim anyone as your parents, but it won’t change the truth. Your bloodline is Roger’s, and it ends today.”

Archer’s vision tunneled, his rage erupting into a fury that made his entire body tremble. Roger’s bloodline? Ace isn’t defined by that bastard! He’s ours, dammit!

Beside him, Rosinante’s face was pale, his jaw clenched tight. His eyes darted between Sengoku and Ace, the weight of the moment crashing down on him like a wave. The man who had saved him was about to destroy their son.

Rosinante suddenly rose to his full height, casting his reverse sound field in every direction, his voice booming louder than Archer had ever heard. It was a primal, furious yell, filled with a rage that sent chills down Archer’s spine. This wasn’t the calm, gentle man he knew—this was something far more terrifying.

"SENGOKU!" Rosinante's voice echoed through the air, angrier than Archer had ever seen or heard before. His eyes blazed with fury, and every syllable dripped with venom. "There’s a special place in hell for you, and if I’m lucky enough, I’ll be the one to send you there!"

Archer froze, momentarily stunned by the sheer force of his lover’s voice. He’d never seen Rosinante like this, not even in his darkest moments. This was something deeply personal, a rage that had been simmering for years, now fully unleashed.

Rosinante’s finger jabbed toward the execution stand, his voice rising even higher. "Ace has NEVER been Roger’s son! He’s ours—mine and Archer’s! His name is Portgas D. Ace, and you better remember it, Sengoku, because it’s the last thing you’ll ever hear!"

The entire plaza seemed to still for a brief moment as Rosinante’s words hung in the air. Sengoku, who had been preparing to deliver his final blow, stopped cold. His gaze swept across the plaza, searching for the source of the voice that had challenged him so directly. His brow furrowed in frustration as he failed to pinpoint exactly where Rosinante was hiding.

Then, with a snarl, Sengoku shouted, "The biggest mistake I ever made was saving you, Rosinante! You’re a traitor, just like your brother!"

Archer’s grip on his sword tightened. That bastard. Rosinante, undeterred, let out a harsh, bitter laugh, one that carried over the battlefield like the crack of thunder.

"You think I’m a traitor?" Rosinante spat, his voice cold and cutting. "I’m a fucking Donquixote! If I have to take a page out of my twisted brother’s book, then so be it! But don’t forget, Sengoku—I was never one of your pawns. I don’t take orders from you, not anymore."

Archer stood rooted to the spot, completely gobsmacked by Rosinante’s transformation. His heart swelled with pride and admiration, even as he felt the icy tendrils of fear grip his gut. Rosi was putting himself out there—all out there—and Archer knew what kind of danger that brought. But he couldn’t deny how fiercely beautiful Rosinante was in that moment.

Rosinante turned, locking eyes with Archer. There was no hesitation, no fear—only the purest determination Archer had ever seen. He gave Archer a sharp nod, then turned toward Raya.

"Blow the walls," Rosinante ordered, his voice steady and lethal.

Raya, who had been waiting for the signal, grinned wickedly and pulled the detonator from her bag. With one sharp press of her finger, the entire plaza shook violently as explosions rocked the foundation of Marineford. The walls surrounding the plaza crumbled into dust, and the carefully laid explosives ignited in a series of brilliant, fiery blasts.

As the dust settled and the echo of the explosions faded, the plaza was eerily still for a heartbeat. Then, suddenly, the waters around Marineford began to churn. The panic amongst the Marines grew louder, their once rigid formations breaking as fear took hold. They hadn’t been prepared for what came next.

The water shifted, rising in colossal waves, and from the depths emerged the Moby Dick, Whitebeard’s massive flagship. It rose from the ocean like a leviathan, shaking off the water as the sunlight gleamed off its deck. And there, standing tall and imposing at the bow, was Whitebeard himself, the man known as the world’s strongest, surrounded by his 14 commanders, each more terrifying than the last.

Archer, crouching beside Rosinante, couldn’t help but smirk. They looked terrifying. The sight of Whitebeard’s forces, rising like gods from the sea, was enough to strike fear into even the bravest of men. Archer had to admit, as much as he hated the situation, there was something undeniably awe-inspiring about it.

Whitebeard’s voice boomed across the plaza like the crash of thunder. "SENGOKU!" he roared, his voice carrying over the chaos, silencing everything else. "Why would you kill my grandson? Did you ever consider the ramifications of such a foolish act?"

Sengoku’s eyes narrowed, his gaze locking onto Whitebeard. "Grandson?" he barked, incredulous. "What are you talking about, Whitebeard?"

Whitebeard grinned, a dangerous glint in his eye as he continued. "Not only would Ace's fathers burn this world to the ground for him," Whitebeard’s voice deepened, dripping with menace, "but what about his brothers? You think the world would survive the wrath of both?"

The statement caused a ripple of confusion to spread among the Marines. Sengoku’s brow furrowed in frustration, and he shouted, "What brothers? Ace has no brothers!"

Whitebeard laughed, a deep, booming laugh that seemed to shake the very ground beneath their feet. "You’re a fool, Sengoku, if you believe that." His gaze grew darker, more serious. "Ace has two brothers, and they are none other than Trafalgar Water D. Law and Monkey D. Luffy!"

A stunned silence followed his declaration. Even Archer, who knew the truth, felt the weight of it hit harder as Whitebeard revealed Ace’s brothers to the world. The Marines were visibly shaken by the news, their fear now turning into full-blown panic.

"And all three," Whitebeard added, his voice low but clear, "were raised by Portgas D. Archer and Donquixote Rosinante."

Sengoku’s face contorted in disbelief, his fists clenching at his sides. "Lies!" he shouted, though his voice wavered. "This is nothing but lies! I raised Rosinante myself—he was loyal to the Marines!"

But the truth hung in the air, undeniable and dangerous. Archer stood tall, his eyes locking with Rosinante’s for a brief moment. This was it. Whitebeard had given them the opening they needed, the perfect chaos.

Whitebeard snarled, his booming voice dripping with fury as he glared at Sengoku. "A true father would do anything for their children," he spat, his eyes burning with righteous anger. "And if you had understood that, Sengoku, maybe we wouldn’t be here right now."

Sengoku's jaw tightened, his composure faltering under the weight of Whitebeard's words. But before he could respond, Archer, standing by Rosinante, made a subtle gesture to Raya. It was time. She nodded back at him and stepped forward, her expression serious as she raised her arms.

With a grin, she unleashed the full force of her Nioi Nioi no Mi powers. A pungent, intoxicating smell filled the air, rolling across the battlefield like an invisible wave. The Marines, caught off guard, began to stumble and sway as the overpowering scent overwhelmed their senses. Some clutched their heads, others wavered on their feet, completely disoriented.

At the same time, Whitebeard slammed his bisento into the ground, and with a guttural roar, let his own Gura Gura no Mi powers loose. The ground trembled violently beneath their feet, and the walls of Marineford began to crack and split as the full force of the earthquake rippled outwards. A towering wave, massive and terrifying, rose from the sea behind Whitebeard’s ship, casting a shadow over the entire battlefield.

Marineford shook to its foundations, the ground splitting apart as Whitebeard’s raw power clashed with the chaos that Raya had unleashed. The combination of the disorienting stench and the unstoppable force of the sea sent the Marines into utter disarray.

Archer watched as panic spread through the ranks of the Marines, his lips curling into a satisfied smirk. "Raya, you’ve outdone yourself," he whispered, impressed by the carnage unfolding before him.

Rosinante, crouched beside him, kept his eyes on the chaos ahead. "Whitebeard’s power is terrifying," he muttered, but there was a tinge of awe in his voice.

Archer chuckled darkly. "Terrifying, but exactly what we need."

Amidst the panic, Marines scrambled to regain control, shouting orders that were drowned out by the cacophony of destruction. Their formations were shattered, soldiers stumbling in confusion, some collapsing from Raya’s power while others struggled to hold their footing as the ground trembled beneath them.

Whitebeard, standing tall at the front of his forces, glared down at the broken battlefield. "You made a grave mistake coming after my grandson," he growled, his voice carrying across the chaos like thunder. "And now, you’ll pay the price."

Archer grinned as he exchanged a glance with Gin, who was already preparing for their next move. "Time to raise some hell."

Then, out of fucking nowhere, without so much as a warning, a ship plummeted from the sky. Archer’s eyes widened, glaring up at the sky, trying to comprehend what the hell was happening.

“What the hell—?" Archer muttered, squinting through the smoke and debris. Then, he saw it. Of course, it was Luffy. Who else would crash-land into a battlefield from the damn sky? Archer’s jaw clenched, and he let out an exasperated sigh.

Looking at Rosinante, who was watching the spectacle unfold with wide eyes, Archer muttered, "That little brat. A ship from the sky? Really? I swear, when I get my hands on him—"

But then Archer’s gaze drifted to the group that had accompanied Luffy. "Wait... Is that Crocodile?" His voice took on a new tone, a mixture of disbelief and rage. "Wasn’t he supposed to be locked up in Impel Down?!"

It hit Archer like a punch to the gut. His youngest had broken into the most secure prison in the world—Impel Down—and somehow orchestrated a massive riot. Not only that, but he’d broken out some of the most dangerous prisoners in existence. Archer ran a hand through his hair, feeling a vein pulsing on his forehead. "Oh, when I get my hands on that brat..." he muttered under his breath.

Giles pointed at one of the newcomers. "That’s my brother, Jinbei!" he said, astonished. Archer gave a nod of acknowledgment, but his mind was still racing.

Rosinante, standing next to him, was just as flabbergasted. "Did... did he break out Impel Down’s prisoners?!" he asked, his voice filled with disbelief. Archer nodded grimly.

Raya, watching the growing vein on Archer’s forehead with a smirk, chimed in. "You’re the one who called Luffy your wildcard. Seems like he’s living up to it."

Archer could only shake his head, lost for words as he watched Luffy’s chaotic arrival. He’d expected chaos, sure. But this? This was on a whole different level. Luffy had managed to take the battlefield by storm in true D. family fashion—by breaking every rule imaginable and turning the tide in the most ridiculous way possible.

"Wildcard, huh?" Archer muttered, staring at the sky as the dust settled. "Little shit."

Without a single shy bone in his entire rubber body, Luffy marched straight up to Whitebeard—the most feared pirate alive—like it was the most natural thing in the world. Archer’s eyes widened, watching in disbelief as his youngest brat proudly proclaimed, "I'm gonna save Ace, and one day, I'll be King of the Pirates!"

Archer groaned, his hand instinctively flying to his face in a full-on facepalm. "Oh, for the love of... That little fucker," he muttered under his breath, shaking his head. Of all the times for Luffy to puff out his chest and drop the most ridiculous declaration known to man, it had to be in front of Whitebeard, the living legend.

Beside him, Rosinante chuckled softly, though even he looked somewhat tense. "Well... he never does things halfway, does he?" Archer shot him a look, barely holding back a retort.

Whitebeard, towering like a mountain, looked down at Luffy with a raised brow, his massive bisento resting on the ground. There was a moment of silence, the entire battlefield almost holding its breath. Marines and pirates alike seemed frozen, waiting for Whitebeard’s response.

"You're gonna save Ace?" Whitebeard’s deep voice rumbled like a brewing storm. He grinned, baring his teeth. "And become King of the Pirates?" His laughter boomed across the plaza, as though he found Luffy's proclamation both amusing and... possible.

Archer, still rubbing his face, muttered, "Of course, he laughs. Only Luffy could make Whitebeard laugh in the middle of a damn war."

"Better get used to it," Rosinante murmured beside him. "That kid's not stopping until he's on the throne."

"Yeah, if we all survive this..." Archer huffed, still amazed at his son’s reckless bravado.

Then the admirals made their grand entrance, the tension in the air thickened like fog. With them came the Warlords: Hancock, Moria, Archer's insane brother-in-law Doflamingo, and the legendary Mihawk. Sengoku, towering and imposing, wasted no time. "Attack!" he barked, and chaos erupted.

Archer glanced at Rosinante, who nodded at Raya, Timble, and Nugget, signaling them to find Law near the Moby Dick. Then he turned to Giles and Gin, his eyes serious. "Be ready"

With a deep breath, Archer shifted into his bear form, a powerful creature embodying raw strength and ferocity. He let out a roar so mighty it echoed across the battlefield, drowning out the chaos for just a moment. It was a sound that told everyone—friend and foe alike—that the Roaring Pirates had arrived.

The commanders of Whitebeard, hearing Archers roar, charged in tandem, and Archer followed suit. As they raced toward the Warlords, adrenaline surged through him. Mid-air, he shifted back to human form, landing with a thud before Hancock, his blades drawn and glinting in the morning light. A wicked grin spread across his face.

"Ready for a dance, Hancock?" he taunted, his voice laced with excitement and challenge.

But before Archer could make his move against Hancock, Luffy came barreling toward him, his voice echoing through the din of battle. "Dad!" He launched himself into Archer's arms, catching him off guard.

Caught between surprise and irritation, Archer hugged him back instinctively, feeling the familiar warmth of his son. But just as quickly, he whacked Luffy on the head. "What the hell was that entrance about? A ship from the sky? Really?"

Luffy, undeterred, simply picked his nose and grinned. "It was cool, right?"

Archer could only shake his head in disbelief. Then Hancock, observing the exchange with a raised eyebrow, smirked. "Is it true that you are Luffy's father?"

"Yeah," Luffy replied cheerfully, not even bothering to hide his pride. "And Dad, Hancock helped me break into Impel Down!"

Archer's jaw dropped, caught between a mix of admiration and exasperation. "You did what?!" He quickly regained his composure and turned to Hancock. "Thank you for that, I guess... but seriously, Luffy, go help your oldest brother free Ace!"

Luffy nodded eagerly, his eyes shining with determination. "Okay! I’ll save him!" Without another word, he took off, sprinting into the chaos with a purpose. Hancock looked after Luffy, blushing.

Archer shook his head, pushing thoughts of Hancock’s blush aside. “I won’t fight you,” he said, his tone firm. “You helped my son, and I can respect that.”

Hancock’s cheeks flushed even deeper, and for a moment, Archer wondered if she had a crush on Luffy. Really? That was a whole new level of messed up.

But he forced his focus back to the battle at hand. No time for distractions. He turned to where Gin was locked in combat with Moria, the creepy warlord whose shadowy powers were a pain in the ass. Archer dashed toward them, adrenaline pumping through his veins.

“Gin!” Archer shouted, eyes narrowed as he approached. “Let’s take this freak down together!”

Gin glanced over, a grin on his face, and nodded. “Right behind you!”

With a fierce battle cry, Archer joined Gin, the two of them synchronizing their movements. Moria swung his oversized sword, shadows flickering around him like a living cloak. But Archer was quicker, ducking under the swing and slashing with his blades, forcing Moria to stumble back.

“Watch out!” Gin yelled, darting to the side to avoid a shadowy tendril that lunged for him. He countered with a swift kick to Moria’s midsection, sending the warlord reeling.

“Don’t let up!” Archer called, pushing forward with relentless strikes. They pressed Moria hard, moving in tandem, their attacks a blur of precision and ferocity. Moria grunted, his face twisting in frustration as he tried to regain control.

With each hit, Archer could feel Moria’s resolve crumbling. “You think you can intimidate us with your shadow tricks?” Archer sneered, slashing across Moria’s chest.

Moria let out a furious growl, shadows swirling around him as he summoned more of his power. But it was too late. Archer and Gin were relentless, striking with coordinated force until, with one final combined attack, they sent Moria crashing to the ground, defeated.

Gasping, Moria glared up at them, rage and disbelief etched on his face. “This isn’t over!”

“Oh, but it is,” Archer said coolly, gesturing to Gin, who jammed a small sea stone spear into Morias stomach.

Archer’s attention was then abruptly pulled to a ferocious clash between Rosinante and his brother, Doflamingo. The intensity of their battle was palpable, with sparks flying as blades met in a deadly dance. The simmering hatred between the two brothers was like an electric charge, making the air thick with tension.

Archer's heart raced as he watched Doflamingo, his twisted smirk more pronounced as he taunted Rosinante. “You could have been great, brother!” he sneered, his voice dripping with contempt. “But instead, you chose to waste your potential on that brat Law, and fucking that beast!” He pointed a finger at Archer, a mocking glint in his eyes. “Raising brats that no one wanted! How pathetic!”

The words hit Archer like a punch to the gut, igniting an inferno of anger within him. How dare he speak about our family like that? He clenched his fists, ready to charge in, but he knew this fight was Rosinante's to finish.

“Shut your mouth, Doffy!” Rosinante growled, his expression fierce as he blocked his brother’s oncoming strike. “You know nothing about what it means to love or to protect! You’ve turned your back on everything that matters!”

Doflamingo laughed, a cruel, mocking sound that echoed across the battlefield. “Oh, but I do know, brother. I know how it feels to watch you squander your life! If only I’d been there to see your golden toy brought to his knees! How I would have loved to be the one to almost take your precious Archers hand!”

Rosinante’s eyes blazed with fury, each word from Doflamingo stoking the flames of their conflict. “You’ll never touch him!”

The two brothers surged forward, exchanging blows with a ferocity that sent shockwaves through the ground. Each strike, each block, was laced with years of anger and betrayal.

Doflamingo, ever the provocateur, continued his taunts. “You think you’re a hero now? You’re just a pathetic failure, hiding behind your little lover!”

Rosinante summoned every ounce of strength he had left, channeling his Devil Fruit powers into a devastating wave of sound. The air vibrated around him, a powerful force that surged toward Doflamingo, catching his brother off guard and sending him staggering back.

With a fierce battle cry, Rosinante closed the distance, his hammer swinging with incredible speed. The impact was thunderous as the hammer connected with Doflamingo’s chest, sending the twisted brother crashing to the ground. Dust and debris exploded around them.

Panting heavily, Rosinante took a moment to regain his breath, his eyes flickering toward Archer. He nodded, a silent communication that passed between them like a charged current. Together, Archer thought, feeling a surge of adrenaline.

Archer sprinted toward Rosinante, his voice sharp and urgent. "Rosi! We have to get Ace now!" The battlefield around them was utter chaos—explosions, screams, and the clash of steel rang out in every direction. As they ran, Archer’s eyes caught a horrifying sight in the distance: Whitebeard, the towering legend himself, had been pierced through the chest by Akainu’s molten fist. Blood spilled from the wound, but even in his agony, Whitebeard remained standing like an unmovable mountain.

"Shit!" Archer cursed, but there was no time to process the scene further.

They both turned their attention to the execution stand, where Ace was still bound, moments away from getting killed. As they charged forward, desperate to reach him, Archer spotted Luffy, Law, and Raya fighting tooth and nail to push through the Marines blocking their path. But they were facing down the three Admirals, Aokiji, Kizaru, and now Akainu himself, who had just arrived after wounding Whitebeard.

As Archer and Rosinante arrived, both panting, they stood protectively in front of Law and Luffy. "Well, well," Akainu sneered, his voice dripping with venom. "Now we can kill the whole family in one go." His gaze swept across them all—Luffy, Law, Archer, and Rosinante—as if already calculating how to wipe them out.

Archer grinned wickedly, baring his teeth as he spat at the ground in front of the admirals. The sound of his spit sizzling against the molten earth seemed to mock them, and the fire in his eyes only burned brighter. "You fucking Marines always talk about justice," Archer snarled, his voice low and dangerous, "but the only thing you’ll find here today is your own graves."

Chapter Text

Archer grinned wickedly, his golden eyes locked on Kizaru, who stood with that same irritatingly lazy expression, as if the entire battlefield was beneath him. Archer’s voice was low, dripping with menace. "Should I take your ears this time, Kizaru? Now that you’ve already lost your nose?"

Kizaru’s smile barely flickered as he opened his mouth to respond, but before he could utter a word, Luffy came barreling toward them with all the subtlety of a cannonball, wielding a massive wooden plank.

"Oi, Luffy!" Archer barked in surprise, but it was too late. Aokiji moved like ice-cold lightning, shattering the plank into splinters with a flick of his wrist. In the same motion, the admiral struck Luffy with such force that the boy was sent flying backward, crashing into the ground with a pained grunt.

"Luffy!" Rosinante’s voice broke through the chaos, his hand tightening around his hammer. He and Archer both moved in tandem, ready to tear into Aokiji with everything they had, but Law stepped forward, calm as ever in the middle of the maelstrom.

"ROOM," Law said, raising his hand with that infuriatingly casual gesture, fingers spread. Archer could swear the brat was flipping Aokiji off. The air shifted in an instant. Aokiji, who had been poised to unleash another devastating ice attack, vanished from his spot.

The next moment, the ice admiral reappeared twenty meters above the ground, slamming back down with a sickening thud. The earth trembled beneath the force of the impact, and Archer couldn’t help but snicker. "Nice aim, Law."

Law, of course, gave no reaction, his attention already elsewhere.

Kizaru, though, wasn’t one to be left out. The man’s form blurred with light-speed motion, his body flashing towards Archer, aiming a searing beam of light directly for his chest. But Archer, with his heightened reflexes and years of experience, twisted at the last second, avoiding the blast by a hair’s breadth. The ground behind him exploded into dust and debris.

Without missing a beat, Archer lunged at Kizaru, shifting back to his hybrid form mid-motion. His massive paw swiped through the air, aiming for Kizaru’s throat, but the admiral darted away with that irritatingly relaxed demeanor, moving like light itself. Archer’s claws slashed through empty space, but he wasn’t deterred. "You always were a slippery bastard," he growled.

Archer barely had time to register what was happening when Raya, like a blur of madness, leaped onto Kizaru’s back, sinking her teeth into his neck. The admiral let out a scream—an actual scream, which was both shocking and bizarre, coming from the normally aloof Kizaru. Archer blinked, momentarily stunned by the sight of Raya, her teeth locked in like some rabid animal. The crazed grin on her face and the blood dripping down from her lips only made it more surreal.

"Is she biting him?" Archer muttered in disbelief, watching as Kizaru flailed, trying to shake her off.

With a desperate effort, Kizaru managed to throw her off, sending her crashing into the ground with a brutal thud. Archer winced, expecting Raya to stay down, but to his amazement, she scrambled to her feet, still grinning like a maniac. Kizaru, clutching his neck, glared at her, but before he could make a move, Raya hurled a knife, the blade whistling through the air and sinking deep into his thigh.

Kizaru stumbled, falling to his knees with a snarl of pain. He reached down to yank the knife out, but before he could, Giles appeared out of nowhere, swinging a massive fist and cracking it against the side of Kizaru’s head with a resounding thwack. The light admiral toppled sideways, dazed and disoriented, his usual cocky demeanor utterly shattered.

"Two down," Archer muttered with a savage grin. This was turning into a bloodbath, just the way he liked it.

Turning toward Law and Luffy, Archer barked, "Get Ace down from that executioner stand. Now!"

Luffy nodded, stretching his arm like a slingshot toward the top of the platform, grabbing Law with his other hand. The two of them shot through the air like cannonballs, Luffy’s usual carefree grin plastered on his face as they soared upward. Law, however, looked less than amused, his expression one of massive panic as they flew higher, screaming his lungs out.

Then, something warm came closer to him. Archer’s heart pounded as Akainu’s molten fist swung toward him, searing the air with blistering heat. He barely dodged in time, the lava missing his face by inches. The snarling bear within him rose, saliva dripping from his fangs, his golden eyes blazing with rage. Archer let out a deep, guttural roar, ready to tear the admiral apart.

But Akainu smirked, and his voice dripped with venom as he began to taunt, his words slicing deeper than any weapon.

"It’s good your bitch of a sister is dead," Akainu sneered, his molten fist flexing with a sickening crackle. "She doesn’t have to witness her entire worthless family being slaughtered."

Archer froze for just a second, his ears ringing with the insult. His body trembled with barely contained fury, but Akainu kept going, his grin widening.

"And what else could one expect from a whore who willingly spread her legs for Roger? You know what we did to that son of theirs? Ace cried every day for his fathers, while we beat him bloody." Akainu's eyes gleamed with twisted satisfaction. "Oh, how I enjoyed it."

Archer’s vision went red, his teeth grinding so hard it felt like his jaw would snap. The only thing louder than his own heartbeat was the sickening, mocking voice of Akainu, who looked at him like a predator toying with its prey.

"I’ll kill the brats first," Akainu continued, his smile widening. "And that bastard Rosinante too. You’ll watch it happen, helpless. And after they’re all dead, after you’ve seen everything you’ve ever loved burn away—then it’ll be your turn."

The world seemed to narrow down to just the two of them, Archer's entire body shaking with fury. There were no more battle cries in the background, no clashing swords, no strategy. Just him and this monster standing before him.

Without a word, Archer leapt forward, a roar tearing from his throat that shook the very ground. His claws, sharp and lethal, slashed through the air toward Akainu’s chest, aiming to rip him apart. But Akainu met him with a fist of blazing lava, the heat so intense it singed the fur on Archer’s arms.

"You think that scares me?!" Archer roared, batting Akainu’s fist aside with raw power and fury. "You can try to break me all you want, but you’re going to regret ever opening your fucking mouth about my family!"

He lunged again, this time slashing at Akainu’s arm with enough force to send the admiral staggering back. Archer followed it up with a brutal headbutt to the stomach, sending lava splattering everywhere, but he didn't care. Pain didn't matter anymore.

"Rosinante! My sons! You touch them, and I’ll rip your fucking head off!" Archer growled, his voice an animalistic snarl as he drove Akainu back, forcing him to defend against the flurry of relentless attacks.

Akainu’s smirk faltered, his taunts falling silent as he realized Archer wasn’t backing down. Instead, Archer’s rage seemed to fuel his strength, his every swing, every slash pushing Akainu further into the ground.

"Come on!" Archer shouted, slashing toward Akainu’s throat. "Let’s see you talk when I’m tearing your guts out!"

The battlefield was a storm of destruction, each blow Archer and Akainu exchanged rippling through the ground beneath them, making the earth tremble. It was a clash of titans—pure, primal, and vicious. Their fists met with bone-shattering force, their roars and snarls cutting through the chaos around them like the sharpest blades. Archer’s fury was a living thing, wild and untamed, and Akainu’s cold, calculated rage only fueled the fire. Neither man gave an inch, both intent on killing the other.

Lava seared the air around them, Akainu’s fists blazing with molten fury, while Archer’s claws, sharp as razors, tore through the smoke and heat, leaving deep gouges in the admiral’s chest and arms. Akainu retaliated with a brutal punch to Archer’s side, molten fist burning into his ribs, but Archer gritted his teeth through the pain and swung again, claws raking across Akainu’s jaw. Blood and lava mixed on the battlefield, but still, neither backed down.

Archer’s golden eyes flicked for a split second toward the execution platform, catching a glimpse of Sengoku in his giant Buddha form, moving toward Ace with terrifying intent. His heart clenched—Ace was running out of time. But before he could shout a warning, he saw a flash of familiar blond hair and dark coat.

Rosinante.

His partner had already seen it. Rosi was charging toward Sengoku, determined and deadly. There was no doubt in Archer’s mind that Rosi intended to end this in blood, once and for all. Sengoku had been a shadow over their lives for too long. It was time for that to change.

But Archer couldn’t afford any more distractions. Akainu’s lava fist came crashing down, narrowly missing his head as he ducked just in time. Archer retaliated with a roar, slashing upwards and catching Akainu’s shoulder, forcing the admiral to stagger back, but not before Akainu landed a brutal hit to Archer’s side, molten lava burning through his flesh.

The pain was excruciating, but Archer didn’t relent. He couldn’t. Not with his family on the line.

"You won’t touch them!" Archer growled through gritted teeth, his voice a low snarl as he leapt forward, claws extended. "Not my sons. Not Rosinante. Not anyone!"

Akainu grinned, wiping blood from his mouth. "I’ll make you watch as they die, one by one," he sneered, stepping forward with lava dripping from his hands. "And then I’ll burn you alive, beast."

Archer let out a roar so deep it shook the air, his fury igniting like wildfire. He charged, swinging with everything he had, every hit meant to kill. Akainu met him blow for blow, the two of them locked in a brutal, bloody dance of death. The ground beneath them cracked, lava and dust swirling in a deadly storm.

Each hit they landed on each other only seemed to fuel their rage. Archer’s claws sank into Akainu’s side, drawing a scream of pain from the admiral, but Akainu countered with a punch to Archer’s chest, sending him staggering back, blood dripping from his wounds.

But Archer didn’t fall. He stood tall, even as the pain burned through him, even as his body screamed for rest. Because this wasn’t about him. This was about his family.

And he would die before he let Akainu touch a single hair on their heads.

With a snarl, Archer charged again, determined to end this. Akainu’s smug grin faltered as he realized Archer’s fury was unstoppable. He wasn’t just fighting for survival anymore—he was fighting to protect everything he loved.

Archer’s next swing caught Akainu across the face, sending him reeling back. The admiral stumbled, wiping blood from his lips, his eyes wide with surprise.

With a swift, brutal motion, Archer swept Akainu's legs out from under him, sending the admiral crashing to the ground. The impact shook the battlefield, dust and lava swirling in the air. Before Akainu could recover, Archer was on him, his massive foot pressing down on the admiral's chest with crushing force. Akainu's molten fists pounded against Archer’s leg, but it was futile—Archer’s strength and sheer size overpowered him.

Akainu’s expression shifted from rage to panic as Archer's fangs elongated, a snarl curling across Archer’s lips. The admiral struggled, his lava-infused arms flailing, but Archer's grip held firm. The more Akainu fought, the deeper Archer pressed his foot into the admiral’s chest, pinning him to the scorched earth.

"You're not going anywhere," Archer growled, his voice deep and menacing. His golden eyes gleamed as his face drew closer to Akainu’s, fangs bared, saliva dripping from his maw. Akainu tried to raise his fists again, but Archer slammed them back into the ground, shaking the very battlefield with the force of his strike.

Before he could deliver the final blow, Archer’s sharp ears picked up a shout from Rosinante. His head snapped to the side, catching sight of the chaos unfolding near the execution stand. Nugget and Timble had charged into the fray, and in a breathtaking display of courage, Timble leaped from Nugget’s back, sea stone spear in hand.

Sengoku, still in his towering Buddha form, was moments away from crushing everything in his path, including his oldest and youngest, fighting for Ace. But with a precise strike, Timble drove his sea stone spear straight into Sengoku’s neck. The admiral froze, his golden form flickering, and within seconds, his massive Buddha transformation dissolved. Sengoku was left powerless, crumpling to the ground with a thunderous thud.

"Good," Archer muttered, his eyes narrowing as he turned his attention back to Akainu, still trapped beneath his foot.

But in that brief moment, Akainu had managed to gather the last remnants of his strength. With a desperate surge, he unleashed a torrent of molten lava, aiming straight for Archer’s chest. Archer recoiled, narrowly avoiding the searing heat, but the blast still singed his side.

Snarling in fury, Archer slammed his foot down harder on Akainu’s chest, driving the air from his lungs. Akainu gasped for breath, his eyes wide with pain, but Archer was far from done. He leaned in closer, his fangs gleaming dangerously in the light of the burning battlefield.

Just as Archer's fangs were inches from sinking into Akainu’s throat, a familiar voice cut through the chaos of the battlefield, sharp and clear.

“DAD!”

Archer’s head whipped around, his snarling expression softening for a split second. There, standing free and furious, was Ace. His flames danced around him like a wildfire barely contained, and his face was twisted in rage. Luffy stood beside him, grinning through the bruises and dirt, while Law, calm and calculating, had his sword at the ready. Behind them was Rosinante, battered and bloodied, but standing tall and alive. Relief flooded Archer's chest like a tidal wave. His family was still whole, still fighting.

But before Archer could react further, something darker clouded the battlefield. Ace’s expression changed, his burning fury shifting into something cold and vicious as he whispered a single word, dripping with venom.

“Blackbeard.”

Archer followed Ace’s gaze, his sharp eyes locking onto the sight unfolding in the distance. Through the smoke and chaos, Blackbeard and his crew had launched a full-scale attack on Whitebeard. The traitor and his men swarmed the weakened titan like vultures, tearing into Whitebeard with no honor, no mercy.

"Shit," Archer cursed, his mind racing. He looked back down at Akainu, who was still gasping beneath his boot. He wanted to end this—wanted to tear the admiral apart for every threat, for every insult about his family. But the battlefield was shifting, and Blackbeard's attack threatened to upend everything.

Archer growled in frustration, his bloodlust barely contained. He glanced back at Rosinante, who nodded silently, understanding the unspoken command. Family first. Always.

With a final, savage roar, Archer kicked Akainu’s battered body aside, sending the admiral skidding across the ground in a heap of molten rock and ash. He wasn’t dead, but he wouldn’t be getting up anytime soon.

Turning toward his sons and Rosinante, Archer barked, "We need to move. Now!"

Ace was already trying to run toward the Moby Dick. “ACE! This isn’t a battle we can win!” Archer shouted, his voice strained as he glanced around at the chaos surrounding them. Smoke billowed in the air, mingling with the heat of battle, and the cries of the wounded echoed like a haunting melody. “We need to get out of here!”

As the rest of the Roaring Pirates gathered around, Archer felt a flicker of hope. He caught sight of Giles, desperately swimming toward the Silence, preparing the ship for their escape. But the moment was cut short by the furious voice of Ace, who stood defiantly, flames dancing around him.

“I owe it to Whitebeard to save him!” Ace screamed, his eyes ablaze with anger and fear. He refused to back down, even with danger looming over them.

Rosinante stepped in, shaking Ace by the shoulders. “If you die here, you’re shitting on the sacrifices of everyone who’s already fallen today! Think about what you’re doing!” His voice was urgent, filled with a desperation that hung thick in the air.

But just as Rosinante’s words hung in the balance, Akainu pushed himself up from the ground, rage igniting within him. With a roar, he hurled a magma fist toward Ace, the attack a comet of destruction racing through the smoke-filled air.

“ACE!” Archer bellowed, adrenaline surging as he lunged forward. He almost reached him in time—almost. The magma fist collided with Ace’s shoulder, the force sending him staggering back. Archer felt a jarring pain rip through him as he instinctively extended his arm to shield Ace. A sickening crack echoed in his ears, and agony shot through his body. Rosinante swung his hammer against Akainu´s head, effectively knocking him up.

Growling in pain, Archer looked at Ace, the connection between them unbreakable even in the chaos. A nod passed between them, a silent agreement fueled by love and sacrifice.

“Get him out!” Archer shouted, his voice strained. Law stood nearby, his demeanor calm amidst the storm. With a flick of his wrist and a quiet “ROOM,” the space around them shimmered. In an instant, Ace, Luffy, and Law vanished from the battlefield, leaving Archer and Rosinante behind.

Archer stumbled to his feet, adrenaline coursing through his veins. He crawled onto the execution stand, towering over the chaos, roaring like a beast unleashed. It was a declaration to the world, a proclamation of their survival, of their fight against the overwhelming darkness surrounding them.

The Silence finally sailed into view, its sails billowing in the wind, a beacon of hope. Archer took a deep breath, his heart pounding, and jumped down from the stand, transforming back into his human form. Every movement was painful, his body bleeding profusely, but he pushed through the exhaustion, leading his crew toward safety.

“Get to the ship! Now!” Archer barked, his voice hoarse yet commanding. The Roaring Pirates rallied around him, a family forged in fire and blood, pushing forward through the chaos.

As they reached the ship, Archer felt his strength waning, but he refused to show weakness. He led them onto the deck, feeling the familiar embrace of the sea breeze as the Silence began to pull away from the battleground. Archer leaned against the ship’s railing, breathing heavily, the weight of his injuries and the day’s horrors pressing down on him. As he watched the Marineford burning down, his body gave out, everything went dark.

Chapter Text

When Archer woke up, the first thing he noticed was that he couldn’t move. Not even a twitch. His mind, still foggy from sleep, started to piece things together. Blinking groggily, he glanced around the room, trying to make sense of what was going on.

This… is our bed, he realized. The familiar wooden ceiling of the Silence loomed above him, creaking gently with the motion of the sea. What the hell? Why can’t I—

A second later, it hit him. It wasn’t the mountain of bandages covering every inch of his body like he was some sort of mummy. No, that wasn’t it at all. It was the human pile-up surrounding him, pinning him in place.

Archer glanced to his left, spotting Ace sprawled out beside him, also wrapped in enough bandages to look ridiculous. His son’s face was relaxed in sleep, his breaths shallow but steady.

On Archer’s right side, Law lay curled up, breathing softly, as if the weight of the world hadn’t been crushing him hours before. His hand was resting on Archer’s forearm, unconsciously gripping it like a lifeline.

And then there was Rosinante, perched precariously at the edge of the bed, an arm slung protectively around Ace’s middle. Archer couldn’t see Rosi’s face, but he could hear the soft sound of his snoring—like the faint rustle of leaves on a quiet day. Archer huffed at that. Rosi always snored when he was exhausted beyond measure.

But the real kicker?

Luffy, the kid was sprawled across the whole bed, limbs draped haphazardly over everyone like he was trying to claim victory in a wrestling match no one else knew they were in. One of his legs was thrown over Ace’s chest, his head resting on Law’s stomach, while an arm was somehow tangled with Archer’s bandaged torso.

Archer sighed. How the hell did I end up in this mess?

The events of the previous day slammed back into his mind like a freight train. The battlefield. The blood. Ace’s near-death, Law’s quick thinking, and Akainu’s taunts. Archer’s stomach twisted at the memory of that lava bastard. If things had gone just a little differently…

He pushed the thought away. They were alive. That was all that mattered now. But the relief that settled in his chest was accompanied by a growing sense of exhaustion, both physical and emotional.

Archer chuckled to himself, realizing it had taken over ten years and an ocean of blood for them all to be together like this, outside a battlefield. The warmth of family, despite the soreness and bandages, was oddly comforting.

But then, Luffy—kicked out and sent Rosinante tumbling off the bed. Archer burst into laughter at the sight of his partner hitting the floor with a yelp.

"Shit, I love my boys," he muttered, shaking his head.

It was just then that Law, the sharp-eyed observer, snapped his eyes open like some kind of nocturnal predator. Archer, startled by the sudden intense eye contact, let out an involuntary squeak, causing Law to sit up abruptly. That motion jerked Luffy's head off Archer's chest, and with a solid thud, Luffy’s head hit the mattress, jarring Ace awake.

Ace groaned, lifting his head. “What the hell, Lu?”

Luffy, still half-asleep, mumbled something unintelligible while rubbing his head. Archer grinned at the chaos surrounding him. It was a mess of tangled limbs, confused looks, and grumbled complaints, but it was his mess. This ridiculous, loud, and bruised family was everything he never knew he needed.

“Good morning to you too,” Archer teased, earning a death glare from Ace.

Archer smirked, looking over at Ace’s grumpy expression. "Stop glaring at your wounded father," he said, his voice dripping with playful mockery. "And Law, help the old man up before he bursts a hip, will you?"

Law, still groggy, shot Archer a half-hearted glare but begrudgingly swung his legs out of the bed to help Rosinante, who was groaning on the floor. “Can’t believe I got kicked out of my own damn bed…” Rosi muttered, rubbing his sore backside as Law tugged him up.

Just then, Archer heard a familiar and, frankly, demonic sound—a chirping that made his blood run cold. Nugget.

Arching his head back, Archer spotted the bird from hell perched proudly above his pillow. Nugget seemed content, and somehow Timble was curled up beside it, sleeping peacefully. Archer sighed, the weirdness of his life hitting him all over again.

"This shit's getting weirder by the day," he muttered to himself, shaking his head. For all he knew, Raya could roll out from under the bed at any second, Giles could be snoring away in the corner chair, or Gin might be sprawled out on the floor somewhere.

At this point, nothing would surprise him.

Archer let out a low chuckle, looking at the chaos around him—his family, his crewmates, it was ridiculous, it was messy, and it was his.

As Rosinante got to his feet, groaning slightly, he cast a glance at Luffy, who was still dead to the world despite the noise. "Weird brat," he muttered under his breath, "could probably eat in his sleep."

Then he looked over at Archer and Ace, and a big, genuine smile spread across his face. Archer caught the look and grinned back, feeling a warmth settle in his chest.

"Would someone be so kind as to wake up the little terror?" Archer asked, with a mock-serious tone. "I need to know what the hell happened while I was out, and... I really need a cigarette."

Before anyone could react, Law shot him a look that was half-annoyed and half-worried. "Smoking’s terrible for you, you know," Law began, slipping into a mini-lecture mode, "especially with the injuries you’ve got dad. You should really—"

Archer rolled his eyes, half-listening as Law jabbed Luffy's cheek repeatedly to wake him up. The rubber boy stirred a little, muttering something about meat in his sleep but refusing to actually wake up.

Meanwhile, Archer's eyes flicked over to Ace, who was smiling, but there was something off about it. The smile didn’t quite reach his eyes, and for a moment, Archer felt a familiar pang of concern. Ace was a master at hiding his emotions, but Archer had always known when something was bothering his boy. And right now? Something was wrong.

Archer exchanged a look with Rosinante, whose smile faltered for just a second, but that second was enough. They both knew they’d have to talk to Ace soon. Something wasn’t sitting right with their middle child, and whatever it was, it wasn’t just physical wounds.

After a bit of poking and prodding, Luffy finally stirred awake, though instead of getting up like a normal person, he immediately latched onto Law, wrapping his arms and legs around his oldest brother like a human octopus. Law’s expression was priceless—a mix of annoyance and horror—as he realized there was no easy way out of this situation.

Ace, grinning at the scene, leaned back on his elbows and chuckled. “Good luck with that, big bro. There’s no getting Luffy off until he’s fully awake. Just roll with it, man.”

Law let out a long, suffering sigh, clearly resigned to his fate, though he did manage to wiggle his arm free to scratch his head in frustration. “This is ridiculous,” he muttered, but he didn’t push Luffy away, knowing Ace was right.

Archer, amused by the chaos, felt Rosinante’s strong arm around his back as he helped him up from the bed. Standing was... rougher than he expected. His body was covered in bandages, and he could tell from the way his muscles protested that he was more torn up than usual. Yet, curiously, the pain was muted. That’s when it hit him.

"Why the hell don’t I hurt more?" Archer asked out loud, giving Rosinante a curious look before turning to Law, narrowing his eyes in suspicion. "Kid, did you give me the good stuff?"

Law immediately shot a pleading look at his papa, practically begging for rescue with his eyes. Rosinante laughed heartily, shaking his head at the familiar scene. "You earned it," he said, smirking.

Law groaned and mumbled something about "irresponsible behavior" and "never listening to doctors," all while Luffy snuggled even closer, oblivious to the conversation.

Ace, meanwhile, had gotten to his feet, rolling his shoulder and stretching his back. He paused, a frown creeping over his face. “Huh... why don’t I hurt more either?”

Archer turned toward him, his golden eyes sharp as ever. “That’s a good question, kid. You should be feeling like hell warmed over.”

Rosinante motioned toward the door. "Why don’t you two head to the galley with Luffy and see if Gin’s up? He winked, clearly not too concerned. Whatever Law had done, it was holding for now.

Ace, still looking puzzled but not one to pass up food, nodded and headed toward the door. Law, with Luffy still draped over him, followed, muttering something about needing a vacation from all of them.

As soon as the boys were gone and the cabin was quiet again, Rosinante wrapped his arms around Archer, careful not to hug him too tightly with all the injuries. Archer grinned, leaning in for a quick kiss. The brief moment of peace was exactly what he needed after everything they had been through. It felt good to have Rosinante by his side, the weight of the world momentarily lifted.

“Good morning!” came a tiny, familiar voice from somewhere nearby.

Archer glanced over and saw Timble, wide awake and perched on Nugget’s back. Archer chuckled, his golden eyes gleaming with amusement. “Morning” he teased.

Timble beamed, jumping off Nugget and darting under the door before anyone could say anything else. Archer shook his head, still smiling as he watched the little guy disappear. The kid had more energy than half the crew combined.

Turning back to Rosinante, Archer gave him a playful look. “Mind checking under the bed? Make sure Raya’s not hiding under there too."

Rosinante grinned, more than happy to oblige. He crouched down and peered under the bed with exaggerated caution. After a moment, he sat back up, pretending to wipe sweat from his forehead. "No scary females under here. You’re safe, Archer."

Archer smacked him lightly on the chest, grinning. “Smartass.”

Rosinante laughed, pulling Archer close again. "You love it," he said, his voice low and full of warmth.

Still standing on the floor, Archer winced slightly, shifting his weight. He turned to Rosinante with a serious look. "So, what the hell happened after I passed out?"

Rosinante ran a hand through his messy blond hair, sighing. "Well, after you blacked out, Law had to operate on you immediately. He used his Devil Fruit powers to fix you up. You were in rough shape, Archer—really rough. Burns all over, a broken arm, six cracked ribs, and some internal bleeding from your brawl with Akainu."

Archer blinked, trying to absorb the information. "Damn... no wonder I look like a mummy," he muttered, glancing down at his bandaged body.

Rosinante chuckled softly. "Law managed to heal most of the burn wounds, but there’s a big one on your ribcage that was too severe to completely remove. He did what he could, though. You’re lucky. The reason you don’t hurt as much is probably because of the pain meds."

Archer nodded, rubbing the back of his neck. "Yeah, that explains why I’m not feeling like death. But what about Ace?" His eyes widened with sudden panic, the memory of Akainu’s magma fist flashing in his mind. "Is he alright?"

Rosinante sighed, his expression more serious now. "Ace’s shoulder was dislocated from the hit, but Law and Raya managed to push it back into place. He’ll carry those burn scars forever, though. They’re permanent. Other than that, he’s mostly bruised and dehydrated from his time in Imperiel Down."

Archer exhaled slowly, relief and worry mixing in his chest. "Damn... but he’s alive."

"Yeah, he is," Rosinante confirmed, squeezing Archer’s shoulder gently. "He’s stronger than he looks, just like you."

Archer, still processing everything, looked up at Rosinante with a furrowed brow. "What about Luffy and Law? They okay?" His voice was rough, concern lacing each word.

Rosinante gave him a reassuring nod. "Luffy's got a new scar on his chest, courtesy of Aokiji. It’s pretty nasty, but it could’ve been worse. He’s a tough kid. As for Law, he's mostly just banged up—some bruises, but nothing serious. He got out better than most of us."

Archer exhaled heavily, feeling some of the tension in his body ease. "Good... that’s good."

He then placed his hand gently on Rosinante's cheek, his thumb brushing the skin as he studied his partner’s face. "And what about you, Rosi? You alright? After... everything with your brother and Sengoku?"

Rosinante leaned into Archer’s touch, his eyes softening. "I’m fine. Broken hand and a nasty cut on my back, but Law fixed me up. Nothing I can’t handle." He smiled faintly, his voice calm and steady, but Archer could hear the weight behind his words. Those battles, the ones fought for survival, always left more scars beneath the surface than on the skin.

Archer, still holding his hand against Rosinante’s cheek, nodded. "Good... Just don’t make a habit of fighting your crazy brother and Buddha men, alright?" He tried to joke, but his voice cracked slightly, betraying the fear he still felt after almost losing Rosinante.

Rosinante chuckled softly, his smile growing wider. "I’ll try to avoid it when I can, but no promises, you know how it is."

Archer snorted, shaking his head. "Yeah, I do." He let out a long breath, pulling Rosinante closer for a moment, resting his forehead against his.

Archer pulled back slightly, his expression shifting to one of curiosity mixed with concern. "What about the rest of the crew? Did everyone else make it through okay?"

Rosinante nodded, a flicker of relief passing over his face. "Raya has a small concussion, nothing serious. Giles just has some bruises from the chaos, and Gin... well, he's dealing with a cracked rib and a busted eyebrow. Timble came out unscathed, and Nugget just has some ruffled feathers."

Archer raised an eyebrow at the mention of Nugget. "Sighed feathers? Seriously? That’s all?"

Rosinante chuckled, shaking his head. "Yep, just some disgruntled bird feathers. We’ve been pretty lucky overall. Given how things went down, it’s a miracle we didn’t lose anyone."

Archer let out a long breath, the weight of that realization settling in. "Holy shit, we really dodged a bullet this time." He ran a hand through his hair, feeling the exhaustion seep deeper into his bones.

As Archer and Rosinante stepped into the Galley, they were greeted by a lively scene. Luffy was still draped over Law, who looked like he was on the verge of collapse, but Ace was grinning as he expertly fed his youngest brother. The sight of them tugged at Archer’s heartstrings, reminding him just how precious these moments were.

Gin stood at the stove, the smell of breakfast wafting through the air, while Raya and Giles exchanged amused glances. Timble and Nugget perched comfortably on Giles's shoulder.

The moment the crew and the “brats” noticed Archer and Rosinante, smiles erupted all around. It felt like a warmth spreading through the room, the kind that made all the pain of battle seem a little less heavy.

“Hey, look who finally decided to join us!” Ace called out, his voice bright, though it was tinged with exhaustion.

Archer chuckled, rolling his eyes. “We’re here, aren’t we? Just a little worse for wear.” He gestured to the bandages still clinging to him. “But don’t let that fool you. We’re proud of every single one of you.”

Rosinante nodded in agreement, his gaze sweeping over the crew. “Seriously. You all did amazing out there. I’m so fucking proud of you.”

Raya gave a cheeky smile. “Well, someone had to keep the shit going while you were busy playing with fire!”

Giles chimed in, “And look at the damage we dealt! We’ve got scars to prove it!” He flexed his arm dramatically, earning laughter from everyone.

“Yeah, but you all are okay, right?” Archer asked, concern flashing in his golden eyes. “I mean, we fought tooth and nail out there.”

“Nothing we couldn’t handle!” Timble piped up, proud. Nugget chimed in agreement, flapping his tiny wings as if to emphasize his point.

“Honestly, we were just following your lead,” Gin said, stirring the pot on the stove. “You set the bar pretty high, Archer.”

“I just made a mess,” Archer replied with a modest grin. “You all did the real work.”

Raya couldn’t help but grin, looking at Archer and Rosinante. “You two should definitely ask Gin what he was up to while you were having your little dance with Akainu. It sounds like he was busy making history.”

Archer turned his gaze to Gin, who was rubbing the back of his neck, a blush creeping across his cheeks. “Well, uh, I kind of spotted this recording device,” he began, his voice a little sheepish. “It was set up to broadcast the execution.”

“Wait, what?” Archer’s eyes widened in disbelief.

“I ran towards it, knocked some blue-haired idiot with a red nose out of the way—”

“Bugsy!” Luffy yelled, indignant, earning a roll of Ace's eyes. “It’s Buggy, not Bugsy!”

“Anyway,” Gin continued, brushing off the interruption. “I moved the recorder so it filmed the battle between you and Akainu. I got all the horrible things Akainu said, and it was broadcast live all over the world.”

Archer stared at him, mouth agape. “You’re fucking awesome!” he exclaimed, genuinely impressed.

Ace let out a laugh. “That’s one way to put Akainu on blast! What a way to expose that bastard!”

Raya elbowed Archer, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “You owe Gin a drink for that one.”

“Make it two,” Archer said, looking at Gin with gratitude. “You’ve just done us a huge favor. The whole world will know what kind of monster Akainu really is. This changes everything.”

Gin shrugged, still slightly embarrassed but clearly proud of his actions. “I just thought it was important for people to see the truth, you know? It felt right.”

“Right or not, you nailed it,” Rosinante added, beaming at Gin.

After breakfast, the mood had lightened, laughter and stories still lingering in the air. Archer leaned against the railing, taking a moment to appreciate the serenity of the sea, when Law and Luffy approached him and Rosinante. The expressions on their faces were a mix of determination and bittersweet nostalgia.

“Hey, we need to talk,” Law began, his voice steady but his eyes betraying a hint of sadness.

“What’s up?” Archer asked, shifting his weight to face them more fully.

“We have to leave,” Law said. “I need to reunite with my crew before Bepo starts crying.”

Archer chuckled, picturing the bear-like friend of Law's getting anxious. “Yeah, can’t have that. And you, Luffy?”

“I need to go back to Amazon Lily to train!” Luffy declared, his grin wide and infectious, but there was an underlying seriousness in his tone.

At the mention of Amazon Lily, Archer’s mind flashed back to the image of Boa Hancock and the embarrassing blush that forever haunted his dreams. “Wait a minute,” he said, a smirk creeping onto his face. “Are you together with Hancock?”

Luffy’s expression shifted to a playful grin. “No way! We’re just good friends!”

“Just good friends, huh?” Archer whispered to Rosinante, unable to suppress his laughter. “I’d bet the Silence that Hancock has a massive crush on him.”

Rosinante snickered, shaking his head.

“Tra-bro promised to set me off at Amazon Lily,” Luffy continued, oblivious to their side conversation. “It’ll be fun!”

Just then, Ace joined them on deck, stretching as he took in the conversation. “What’s going on?” he asked, eyes darting between his brothers.

“We’re saying goodbye,” Law replied. “I’m heading to reunite with my crew, and Luffy’s off to train.”

Ace nodded, but there was a hint of disappointment in his gaze. “I think I’ll stay on the Silence for a while. I’m not quite ready to leave yet.”

“Are you sure?” Archer asked, concern etching his features.

Ace then said “I need some time. Besides, I want to be here with you guys for a bit longer.”

“Alright then,” Rosinante said, ruffling Ace’s hair affectionately. “We’re proud of you all, no matter where you go.”

With that, they exchanged heartfelt goodbyes. Archer pulled Luffy and Law into a tight hug, the warmth of the moment lingering between them. “Remember to take care of yourself.”

“I will! You too, Dad!” Luffy grinned, his energy undiminished.

Law gave Archer a nod. “I’ll keep an eye on him dad.”

“Don’t let him get into too much trouble!” Archer called after them, a smile tugging at his lips.

As they watched Luffy and Law make their way off, Archer felt a sense of pride swell in his chest. They were making their own paths, and all he could do was support them. Even with the bittersweet taste of goodbyes, he couldn’t help but feel optimistic about the future.

Archer felt a heavy weight settle in the air as he watched Ace’s expression shift. The bravado his son usually wore like armor cracked, revealing the vulnerable young man beneath. “Ace,” he said softly, “why don’t you join me and your papa in our cabin? We need to talk.”

Ace grumbled under his breath, but he complied, following Archer and Rosinante into the cabin. Once inside, Archer motioned for Ace to sit on the bed while he took a seat on the chair across from him, Rosinante standing close behind, a silent pillar of support.

“Are you okay, Ace?” Archer asked gently, gauging his son’s reaction. “And if you’re not, that’s okay too. It’s okay to cry, you know.”

As soon as the words left Archer's lips, Ace’s façade crumbled. Tears streamed down his face, each drop a testament to the pain he had been holding inside. “It’s my fault!” he cried, voice trembling. “If I had just backed off my hunt for Blackbeard, none of this would have happened. Whitebeard would still be alive! All those people… It’s all my fault! I don’t deserve to live when so many others died because of me!”

Archer’s heart ached as he listened to Ace’s outburst. He felt the weight of his son’s anguish pressing down on him like a physical force. Without hesitation, he moved closer, reaching out to place a comforting hand on Ace’s shoulder. “No, Ace. It’s not your fault. You can’t blame yourself for what happened. You did what you thought was right.”

Ace shook his head vehemently, unable to see past his own grief. “But people died for me! For my decisions! I could have just let it go… Why didn’t I just let it go?”

Rosinante crouched down beside Ace, placing a hand on his back, offering silent comfort. “Sometimes, we make choices that we believe are right at the moment, but the outcome is out of our control,” he said softly. “You can’t carry the weight of the world on your shoulders.”

Archer leaned closer, his voice firm yet compassionate. “You’re not responsible for the actions of others, Ace. Whitebeard chose to protect you and the crew. That was his choice, not yours. He would never want you to feel this way, and neither do we.”

“I just—” Ace’s voice cracked as he struggled to find the words. “I can’t shake the feeling that if I hadn’t gone after Blackbeard, he wouldn’t have targeted Whitebeard and everyone else…”

“It doesn’t work that way,” Rosinante interjected gently. “There are forces at play that we can’t understand. You can’t change the past, but you can honor the memories of those we lost by living on. Fight for their legacy, not against yourself.”

Archer nodded, adding, “We’re proud of you, Ace. You’re strong, and you fought alongside those you love. That’s what matters. Don’t let this darkness consume you. You have a family that loves you. Lean on us.”

Ace sniffled, his shoulders shaking as he wiped his tears with the back of his hand. “But how can I be strong when I feel so weak?”

“Being strong doesn’t mean you don’t feel pain,” Archer said, his voice softening. “It means you acknowledge it, share it, and find a way to keep moving forward. It’s okay to grieve, to feel angry, to feel lost. Just don’t do it alone.”

For a moment, silence filled the room as Ace absorbed their words. Slowly, he nodded, the tension in his body easing just a fraction. “I… I’ll try,” he whispered, looking up at his fathers with a mixture of gratitude and lingering sorrow.

Rosinante smiled warmly, wrapping his arm around Ace’s shoulders. “That’s all we can ask for. We’re here for you, always.”

Archer leaned back, feeling a flicker of hope amidst the heaviness of their conversation. “And remember, you’re not alone in this”

Ace’s expression shifted slightly, the corners of his mouth twitching upwards as he processed the words of his dad and papa. “I… I don’t know what to do with myself right now,” he admitted, voice thick with emotion. “I feel like I have nothing left.”

Archer leaned forward, fixing Ace with a steady gaze. “You have us, Ace. You have the crew of the Silence, your brothers, and a world full of possibilities waiting for you. Right now, though, it’s okay to take a step back. Relax, let the dust settle. You don’t have to have everything figured out at once.”

Ace’s brows furrowed slightly as he considered that. “But what if I’m lost forever?”

“Then we’ll help you find your way,” Rosinante chimed in, his voice soothing. “You don’t have to do this alone. Just breathe, let yourself heal, and when you’re ready… raise hell.”

At those words, a genuine smile broke through Ace’s tears. It was a small spark of his old self, the fire that had always burned brightly within him. “Raise hell, huh?” he repeated, a hint of mischief returning to his eyes.

“Damn right!” Archer chuckled, the tension in the room easing. “You’re Portgas D. Ace! You don’t back down from a fight, even if that fight is with your own doubts. We’ll face whatever comes next together. And when you’re ready to make some noise, we’ll be right beside you.”

“I like the sound of that,” Ace said, wiping his tears away, a grin now taking over his face.

Chapter Text

As days turned into weeks, the wounds on Archer’s body slowly healed, but the emotional scars—especially Ace’s—were a different story. The physical pain might’ve dulled, but the weight on Ace’s shoulders hadn’t lifted. Archer noticed it in the quiet moments, in the far-off look Ace got sometimes, like he was somewhere else entirely. There were good days, sure, where Ace would crack jokes or share a meal with them, but then there were those darker moments—when Ace’s smile didn’t quite reach his eyes, and Archer could almost see the storm brewing inside his son.

Ace tried. God, he tried. But there were times when that darkness swallowed him whole, and no matter how much Archer or Rosinante tried, they couldn’t quite pull him out of it. It wasn’t like the old days, when a few words of encouragement or a joke could lighten Ace’s mood. This was deeper, harder to reach.

Nights were the worst. Every now and then, Ace’s nightmares would strike like a tidal wave, tearing through him until he was left crying, screaming out for Archer and Rosi, for the beatings to stop, for forgiveness for something that wasn’t even his fault. His pleas broke Archer’s heart every time. He and Rosinante would rush into Ace’s cabin, sometimes carrying him into their bed, sometimes just sitting with him, holding him through the tremors of his anguish.

One of those nights, Archer found himself awake before the nightmare even began, an unsettling feeling gnawing at him. He glanced at Rosinante beside him, still asleep, then listened closely. Ace’s cabin was silent, but Archer could feel it—the tension in the air, the quiet before the storm. Then, it started. A soft whimper at first, then louder, the unmistakable sound of Ace’s torment creeping through the walls.

Archer sighed, already halfway out of bed. “Rosi,” he whispered, gently shaking him awake. “It’s happening again.”

Rosinante’s eyes opened groggily, but they sharpened in an instant, understanding without words. “Let’s go.”

By the time they reached Ace’s cabin, their son was tossing and turning, mumbling in his sleep. Archer knelt by the bed, brushing the hair out of Ace’s face, his chest tightening as he heard Ace’s broken words.

“I’m sorry… I’m so sorry… please stop…”

“Ace,” Archer whispered, his voice soft but firm. “Ace, wake up. You’re safe.”

But Ace’s nightmare had its claws deep in him, and his body jerked as if struck. Archer exchanged a look with Rosinante, who was already sitting on the edge of the bed, gently rubbing Ace’s arm. “He’s not waking up,” Rosinante muttered, his brow furrowed.

Archer cursed under his breath and did what he always did when Ace’s nightmares got this bad. He leaned in close, wrapping his arms around his son, holding him as tight as he dared. “You’re here, Ace,” he said softly. “You’re with us. We’ve got you.”

Rosinante joined him, pulling Ace into their embrace. Slowly, the tension in Ace’s body began to ease, his cries quieting down. Eventually, he woke with a start, his wide, tear-filled eyes locking onto Archer’s. “D-dad…”

“We’re here, son,” Archer said gently, his voice rough with emotion. “We’re right here.”

Ace collapsed into their arms, burying his face in Archer’s chest. “It hurts… it just… it doesn’t stop.”

Archer’s heart broke a little more. He shared a glance with Rosinante over Ace’s head, both of them feeling the same helplessness. “I know, kid,” Archer whispered, running a hand through Ace’s hair. “But you don’t have to go through this alone. We’re here, alright? We’re always gonna be here.”

“I don’t deserve it,” Ace mumbled, his voice barely audible. “Not after everything… after what I did…”

“Bullshit,” Rosinante said, his voice firmer now. “You deserve everything, Ace. You’re not responsible for what happened. You didn’t kill Whitebeard, and you didn’t cause anyone’s death. You’re allowed to feel this pain, but don’t you ever think you’re not worthy of living.”

Ace sniffed, his tears soaking into Archer’s shirt. “But it feels like I’ll never be okay again.”

“You will be,” Archer said softly, pressing a kiss to the top of Ace’s head. “It’s gonna take time, but you will be. And even if it doesn’t feel like it now, you’ve got us. We’re not going anywhere.”

The three of them sat there for a long time, wrapped in each other’s arms. Slowly, Ace’s breathing steadied, and exhaustion pulled him back into sleep, though this time it was quieter, less haunted. Archer and Rosinante didn’t move for a while, just sitting there, holding their son, letting him feel the safety they tried so hard to give him.

The next morning, Archer and Rosinante went to see Raya, the ship’s doctor. She was sitting on deck, a half-empty bottle in hand, when they approached her. Despite her constant drinking, she had a sharp mind, and Archer trusted her instincts more than anyone else's on board.

“Raya,” Archer said, sitting down across from her, the bags under his eyes speaking for themselves. Rosinante, equally exhausted, sat beside him. “We need to talk.”

Raya raised an eyebrow, setting the bottle aside. “About Ace, I take it?”

Archer nodded, leaning back with a sigh. “Yeah. We’ve tried everything we can think of. Holding him, talking to him, being there. But it’s not enough. He’s... he’s drowning, Raya, and I feel like we’re just watching it happen.”

Rosinante added, “We’ve been helping him physically, but the nightmares... the guilt. It’s tearing him apart.”

Raya let out a long sigh, brushing a hand through her messy black hair. “Look, I’m not a doctor of the mind, alright? I can patch up physical wounds, sure, but the kind of pain Ace is going through? That’s beyond my expertise.”

Archer’s heart sank. He had hoped for more—needed more. “So what do we do? Just sit here and watch him suffer?”

“No,” Raya said firmly. “You don’t just sit here. You do something.”

“Like what?” Rosinante asked, frowning.

Raya leaned back, her violet eyes scanning the horizon for a moment before she spoke. “Distractions. Purpose. The kid’s got a hole in his soul right now, and no amount of sitting around moping is gonna fix that. He needs something to do. Something to work towards. Ace needs to find a way to move forward—closure, if that’s possible.”

“Closure?” Archer repeated, raising an eyebrow. “You mean, like, making peace with what happened?”

Raya shrugged. “Something like that. Or maybe even giving him something to aim for. Revenge, if that’s his thing, or a new goal to focus on. I don’t know, man. All I know is, he needs something to pull him out of this funk before it consumes him entirely.”

Rosinante looked thoughtful, his hand resting on his chin. “You think it’s that simple?”

“It’s not simple at all,” Raya corrected. “But it’s a start. The kid’s been through hell. He’s carrying the weight of the dead, and it’s not going away by itself. You need to give him something to live for. Something beyond the guilt.”

Archer frowned, running a hand through his hair. “He’s got us, his brothers. He’s got a family.”

“And that’s a good foundation,” Raya acknowledged. “But right now, he doesn’t feel worthy of it. Ace needs to find something he believes in. It might take time, but that’s the best advice I can give you.”

Archer nodded, processing her words. “So, we give him space to find his own way? And hope he latches onto something?”

“Pretty much.” Raya took another sip from her bottle. “And while he’s finding that way, you two keep doing what you’re doing—being there for him. He’s gonna need both support and a reason to move forward.”

Rosinante sighed softly. “Distractions... purpose... closure. Alright.” He looked at Archer. “We can help him find that. If that’s what he needs.”

It was the middle of the night when the idea hit Archer like a cannonball. His eyes snapped open, a fire igniting in his chest. Without thinking, he sat up and punched Rosinante square in the arm to wake him up.

“Rosi!” Archer whispered urgently, a wild grin spreading across his face. “I know what we need to do to help Ace!”

Rosinante groaned, rubbing his arm as he cracked open one tired eye. “What the hell, Arch…?”

But Archer was already halfway out the door, his excitement making him move before he realized he wasn’t exactly… decent.

“Oi, Archer!” Rosinante yelled, his voice groggy but laced with amusement. “You’re not wearing any pants!”

Archer froze mid-step, looking down at his bare legs. “Right. Pants. Important detail.” He sprinted back, hopping into his pants like a madman before bolting out of the cabin again.

Rosinante shook his head in disbelief, still groggy as he climbed out of bed and slowly followed Archer. Whatever his partner was up to, it was bound to be crazy. Then again, wasn’t everything crazy on this ship?

By the time Rosinante reached the galley, Archer was already at the Denden Mushi, the snail’s eyes blinking awake as it connected the call. Rosi leaned against the doorway, arms crossed, watching Archer with a raised brow, half-convinced his lover had lost it completely.

The Denden finally crackled, and a groggy, annoyed voice came through. “Who the hell has the gall to call at this hour?”

Archer’s lips curled into a snarky grin. “Your worst nightmare, Yasopp. Now, go dig out Shanks from whatever hole he’s passed out in. We’ve got business.”

There was a startled yelp on the other end, followed by shuffling noises and hurried footsteps. Yasopp disappeared for a few minutes, presumably hunting down the red-haired captain. Rosinante gave Archer a look that clearly said, Have you lost your mind?

Archer just grinned wider, like a man on a mission. And maybe he was a little mad, but honestly, who wasn’t on this ship?

After a few moments, the Denden crackled again, and this time, a familiar drunken slur cut through the line. “Archer? What the hell is so important you’ve gotta wake me up? It’s the middle of the night…”

Archer didn’t waste any time, cutting straight to the point. “Shanks, do you know where Whitebeard’s buried?”

There was a brief pause, and for once, Shanks didn’t sound like his usual easygoing self. His voice was quieter when he spoke. “Yeah. It was me and my crew that buried the old man. We gave him the best send-off we could.”

Archer’s heart pounded in his chest. This was it. The final piece of the puzzle. “Give me the coordinates.”

There was another pause before Shanks relented, rattling off the coordinates to Whitebeard’s final resting place. Archer scribbled them down, his grin returning as he hung up without even a proper goodbye. He could practically hear Shanks protesting on the other end, telling him to stop scaring Yasopp, but Archer didn’t care.

Turning back to Rosinante, he held up the scrap of paper with the coordinates. “Change course. We’ve got a place to visit.”

Rosinante, now fully awake, looked at Archer with an amused smile. “You sure about this?”

“Absolutely,” Archer said, his voice firm. “It’s time to give Ace the closure he deserves.”

Rosinante chuckled softly, shaking his head as he moved to set the new course. “You’re crazy, you know that?”

“Yeah,” Archer replied, still grinning like a madman. “But you love me for it.”

Rosinante didn’t argue with that.

It took them five long days to finally arrive at their destination, and in all that time, neither Archer nor Rosinante had told anyone on the ship where they were headed. The crew had tried prying it out of them, but the couple was tight-lipped, grinning every time someone asked. Ace had been particularly frustrated, but even he knew better than to press when Archer had that mischievous glint in his eye.

As they docked, the crew gathered on the deck, staring out at the small, uninhabited island that lay before them. It was quiet, peaceful in a way that felt almost too still for a place with such heavy significance.

Just as they prepared to disembark, Archer pulled Raya and Gin aside, his expression serious for the first time since they set sail. He lowered his voice, making sure Ace was out of earshot.

“Listen,” Archer said, “I need you two to do something for me. I don’t care how you do it, but I need a fuck load of flowers. Steal 'em, buy 'em, hell, pull 'em from the ground yourself if you have to. Just get 'em. And bring them up that hill over there.” He pointed to the highest point of the island, where the view stretched out to the endless sea.

Raya arched an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “What exactly are we doing here, Captain?”

Archer grinned, though this time, it wasn’t his usual cocky smirk. There was something softer, more reverent in his expression. “We’re giving Ace something he needs. Just trust me.”

Gin, always the more obedient of the two, nodded without question. “We’ll handle it.”

Raya, still curious but willing to go along, shrugged. “Alright, boss. You want flowers, we’ll get you flowers.”

With that, the two headed off on their mission, leaving Archer and Rosinante standing at the edge of the dock. Rosinante glanced at Archer, his eyes filled with quiet understanding.

“You really think this will help him?” Rosi asked, his voice low.

Archer nodded, watching as the others began to disembark. “It has to. He needs to say goodbye. We all do.” He turned to look at Ace, who stood near the edge of the ship, staring out at the horizon with that familiar cloud hanging over him.

Rosinante placed a hand on Archer’s shoulder. “Then let’s make sure this is something he’ll never forget.”

After spending an hour distracting Ace—something that was no easy feat and earned Archer more than a few annoyed glares from the younger man—they finally saw it. A small flicker of flame rose up on the hill in the distance. Good. It was time.

Without warning, Archer grabbed Ace’s hand, ignoring his protests, and began dragging him along with Rosinante following closely behind. Ace grumbled, half-heartedly trying to free himself from Archer’s grip, but there was a quiet resignation in his eyes. He knew better than to resist when Archer got like this.

As they reached the top of the hill, the sight before them took even Archer's breath away for a moment. Raya and Gin had really pulled through. The entire burial mound was surrounded by a sea of flowers, a riot of color against the serene, peaceful backdrop of the island. Whitebeard’s grave was there, majestic yet simple, marked by a single headstone that seemed to command the hilltop like the man himself once commanded the seas.

Ace looked at Archer and Rosinante, confusion and a hint of frustration creeping into his voice. "What... What are we doing here? And why the hell are there so many flowers?"

Rosinante gave him a gentle nudge forward. “Just look at the headstone, Ace.”

Ace hesitated, his breath catching in his throat. Slowly, as though dreading what he might see, he walked closer. And then, as his eyes fell on the name etched into the stone—Edward Newgate, Whitebeard—the dam inside him broke.

Tears began to pour freely down Ace’s face as he sank to his knees before the grave. One arm wrapped tightly around his stomach as if trying to hold himself together, while the other rested on the headstone, fingers trembling against the cold stone surface.

He sobbed, deep, heart-wrenching sobs that tore through him. For so long, Ace had carried the weight of his guilt, his pain, and his grief. Now, here he was, face to face with the final resting place of the man who had given everything for him.

"I'm sorry," Ace choked out between sobs. "I'm so... so sorry..."

Archer knelt beside him, placing a steadying hand on his shoulder while Rosinante stood close, ready to catch him if he faltered. “Ace,” Archer said quietly, his voice uncharacteristically soft, “you need to let it out. This isn’t your fault. Whitebeard... he made his choice. He died protecting his sons. It’s what he wanted.”

Ace shook his head, tears falling harder. “But I— I should’ve... If I hadn’t gone after Blackbeard, none of this would’ve happened... I—”

“No,” Rosinante interrupted gently, his deep voice carrying warmth and reassurance. “Whitebeard knew the risks, just like we all do. His love for you and the crew... that was stronger than any fear of death. You were his family, Ace. Don’t take that away from him by blaming yourself.”

Ace sobbed harder, his forehead now resting against the stone. “I don’t... I don’t know what to do without him,” he whispered, voice broken. “I don’t know how to move forward.”

Archer crouched beside him, his hand never leaving Ace’s shoulder. “You have us. Me, Rosi, Luffy, Law... we’re still here, Ace. We’ll figure it out together. But right now? Just say goodbye. You need to let him go.”

For what felt like hours, Ace knelt there, crying for the father he had lost, for the guilt he had carried, and for the uncertainty of what lay ahead. And through it all, Archer and Rosinante stayed by his side, offering nothing but their silent support and love.

At long last, when the tears had slowed, Ace raised his head and wiped his face with his sleeve, his eyes red but more at peace than they had been in weeks. He placed his palm on the headstone one last time, whispering a quiet, “Thank you... for everything, old man.”

Then, slowly, he stood, turning to face Archer and Rosinante. His voice was still raw, but there was a flicker of determination behind it now. “What... what do we do next?”

Archer gave him a small, proud grin. “We live, Ace. That’s what we do next.” He clapped Ace on the back, a little harder than necessary, making the younger man wince but grin back nonetheless.

It had been a few days since they left the island where Whitebeard lay at rest, and the mood on the Silence was lighter than it had been in weeks. The crew was back to their usual antics, and Archer, well... Archer found himself in a situation. Again.

"How in the hell do you always end up like this?" Rosinante grumbled, struggling to untangle Archer from the rope he’d somehow managed to get himself stuck in—hanging upside down like some kind of demented bat. Archer had the grace to look only mildly embarrassed, swinging slightly in the breeze as his upside-down golden eyes scanned the deck.

“I’m improvising,” Archer said, his voice nonchalant as he hung there, arms crossed in defiance of his predicament.

Rosinante sighed deeply, yanking at the knot. "Improvising... right."

Just then, Ace shuffled over, his hands stuffed deep in his pockets, his eyes focused on his feet. Archer, despite his odd position, noticed the uncertainty in his son’s body language. Ace wasn’t one to fidget unless something was weighing heavily on him.

“What’s on your mind, brat?” Archer asked, not one to beat around the bush, even when suspended in midair. He gave a slight wiggle in the ropes as if that would help him get free.

Ace blinked at him, completely ignoring the ridiculous scene in front of him as though having one of his fathers dangling from a rope was the most natural thing in the world. “I was just thinking...”

Rosinante grumbled something about too much thinking under his breath as he tugged on the rope.

“I was thinking... maybe... could I—” Ace hesitated, kicking at the floor with the tip of his boot. “Could I join your crew? Permanently, I mean.” His voice came out shy, which was rare for the normally bold young man.

Archer paused mid-swing, staring at Ace for a long moment. “You... want to join us?” he asked, and when Ace nodded, a grin spread across his face. “Hell yes, you can!”

Rosinante, finally freeing Archer from the cursed rope, almost stumbled back from the force of Archer’s excitement. Rosi straightened up, brushing off his coat, and smiled at Ace. “Of course you can,” he said warmly, his deep voice full of affection.

In an instant, Archer had sprung up and pulled Ace into a fierce hug, his grin wide enough to split his face. Rosinante quickly joined, wrapping his long arms around the both of them, pulling them into a tight embrace. Ace, caught between the two, let out a small laugh, his face bright with a joy he hadn’t shown in far too long.

Before they could break apart, the rest of the crew appeared, as if drawn in by the magnetic pull of the moment. Giles lumbered over, clapping a massive hand on Ace’s back, while Raya threw her arms around them all, squeezing in with surprising strength for her size. Timble perched on Giles’ shoulder, and Gin joined, his grin matching Archer’s. Nugget, true to form, landed squarely on Ace’s head, chirping as if in approval of the decision.

The group hug turned into a massive pile-up of laughter and grinning faces, with Ace standing at the center, looking more at peace than he had since before Marineford.

It was a quiet night on the Silence, the sea stretching out in an endless dark horizon, the stars above sparkling like a thousand tiny lanterns. Archer and Ace were sitting by the helm, supposed to be on night duty. Supposed to be.

They’d started out fine, talking softly about nothing in particular—old stories, memories of Rouge, and even the stupid antics that Luffy had gotten into as a kid. It was easy, comfortable, just sitting there in the stillness with the soft creak of the ship and the rhythmic slosh of the waves.

But then, in true Portgas fashion, the gentle sounds of the sea and the warm breeze had lured them into a slow, inevitable slide toward sleep. Before they knew it, both of them were out cold—Ace with his arms crossed and head tilted back against the wooden wall, and Archer slumped over the helm, his head resting on his folded arms.

The first sound they heard upon waking was not the peaceful murmur of the waves or the gentle rustle of the sails. No, it was Rosinante’s voice, shouting from below deck, his tone a mixture of exasperation and disbelief.

“How in the hell did you both fall asleep on night duty?!”

Archer groaned, lifting his head from the helm, blinking blearily at the now-brightening sky. “Shit,” he muttered under his breath, glancing sideways at Ace, who was rubbing his eyes like a kid who’d been woken from a nap.

“Who the hell thought it was a good idea to put the two of you on the same shift?!” Rosinante was still yelling as he stormed up to the deck, his coat flapping dramatically in the breeze as if the ship itself was adding to his indignation.

Ace tried, and failed, to suppress a grin. “I mean, it was a good idea at first,” he mumbled.

Archer, still groggy but amused, scratched the back of his neck. “Rosi, love, you know we didn’t mean to. The stars were just so... relaxing.” He smirked, trying to charm his way out of trouble.

Rosinante’s glare was unyielding. “Relaxing? You both could have gotten us killed! The whole crew could’ve woken up in the middle of a storm, or worse—beached!”

Just as Archer opened his mouth to argue—perhaps something witty, like blaming the stars again—Timble appeared, perched on Giles’ shoulder, pointing directly at Rosinante with the flat expression only the small man could pull off.

Without missing a beat, the tiny man pointed accusingly at Rosinante and said in his squeaky voice, “You. You’re the one who scheduled them together.”

Rosinante froze mid-rant, his finger still in the air, mouth half-open. He blinked, then frowned, turning his glare from Archer and Ace to himself as if trying to remember. “Wait… I did?”

Timble nodded solemnly. “Yes. You. Idiot.”

Ace couldn’t help it. He burst into laughter, clutching his sides as he doubled over, and even Archer’s grumpy face cracked into a wide grin. Archer threw his arm over Ace’s shoulders, shaking his head.

“Well, well, Rosi, looks like you’ve got no one to blame but yourself,” Archer teased, his grin widening.

Rosinante, for once at a loss for words, muttered something about needing coffee and stomped off below deck, his face slightly red. Timble just shook his head in exasperation.

As the two Portgas men watched their red-faced partner and father walk away, they exchanged a look—one full of mischief and affection.

“We’re never gonna live this down, are we?” Ace asked, still chuckling.

“Probably not,” Archer replied with a smirk, “but it was worth it.”

The crew of the Silence was in disarray after realizing just how far off course they'd drifted during Archer and Ace's unfortunate snooze at the helm. Giles, their ever-cranky navigator, had grumbled like an old man as he stomped around the deck, his sharp, shark-like teeth bared in annoyance.

“You two knuckleheads got us so far off course,” Giles groused, pointing an accusing finger at both Archer and Ace. “I’ve got no clue where the hell we are! Gotta find the nearest island to dock and reset the damn log pose!”

Rosinante, still red-faced with embarrassment, mumbled something unintelligible under his breath. Archer swore he caught something about 'never again,' but he didn’t press the issue.

Luckily, it only took them a day to find the nearest island. As they sailed closer, Archer was comfortably sitting on deck, absorbed in his book. His reading glasses—loathed as they were—rested on the bridge of his nose as he turned the pages. He was just starting to relax again when he heard loud shouts coming from the shore.

“What now?” Archer muttered, looking up from the book, peering over the rim of his glasses.

From the island, he saw a figure in a bright pink dress sprinting through the streets, being chased by a group of women who looked ready to tear the poor soul apart. Archer raised an eyebrow at the sight, leaning back in his chair. Women, he thought, shaking his head. Absolutely bonkers. He glanced at the commotion again, reminded of Raya’s wild antics.

But then, something about the person in the pink dress caught his attention. It wasn’t the fact that they were being chased—it was the voice. The shrill shout had been surprisingly deep, way too deep for a lady in a pink dress.

Archer squinted and took off his glasses, rubbing them with his shirt. Putting them back on, he looked again. His eyes widened in disbelief as the figure came closer into view. There was no mistaking it now—the blond hair, the cigarette dangling from their lips as they ran for their life…

“No fucking way…” Archer muttered, leaning forward, eyes narrowing.

It was Sanji.

Chapter Text

Archer blinked hard, his eyes narrowing as he tried to make sense of what he was seeing. He glanced around the deck, half-expecting to catch one of the crew witnessing the bizarre scene unfolding before him. Surely, someone had to be around to confirm that he hadn’t finally lost his damn mind after all the hits to the head over the years.

But no. The deck was empty. Everyone was either sleeping, eating, or doing God knows what below deck. Of course, Archer thought bitterly. The one time something this ridiculous happens, no one’s around to witness it with him.

Archer sighed, his eyes trailing back to the spectacle onshore. Sanji—wearing a bright pink dress—was still running, the group of ugly women hot on his tail. But the cook had spotted him now. Archer’s hands shot up in the air, and he started waving frantically, shouting Sanji’s name.

“Oi, Oregano boy! Over here!”

Sanji’s head snapped toward the ship. For a moment, a fleeting moment, Archer thought Sanji was about to throw himself into the water and swim toward the Silence—as any sane person might do in his situation.

But no. Of course not. Because apparently, the day hadn’t been weird enough already.

Sanji’s legs lit on fire.

Archer blinked. Rubbed his eyes. Looked again.

Yup. His legs are definitely on fire.

And what did the brat do next? He walked into the air. As if striding on invisible steps, his flaming legs carried him upward, toward the Silence. Like it was the most normal thing in the world.

Archer’s mouth hung open, staring in complete disbelief. “You’ve got to be shitting me.”

He rubbed his temples, groaning inwardly. He was getting too old for this shit.

Sanji, still on his fiery ascent, closed the distance quickly. Archer could hear the tap, tap, tap of the air kicks as the kid casually strolled over the waves, leaving the crazed women behind. He landed lightly on the deck, panting and wiping the sweat from his brow, that damn pink dress fluttering around his legs.

Sanji was about to speak, but Archer held up a hand, stopping him.

“No. Just...” Archer gestured vaguely toward the air behind him, then at Sanji’s legs. “Do you even realize how insane that just was? Fire? Walking on air? And in a dress?”

Sanji, beet red in the face, looked at Archer with desperation in his eyes. His usual cocky demeanor was nowhere to be found as he pleaded, “Please... help me. They want to put makeup on me too.”

Archer raised a hand, signaling for him to slow down. “Alright, kid, start from the beginning. What the hell happened to you?”

Sanji let out a heavy sigh, slumping against the mast. “It’s... Kamabakka Island. I ended up there after...” he trailed off, clearly not wanting to go into the specifics. “Let’s just say it wasn’t by choice. Ivankov—this crazy dude with powers from the Revolution—he runs the place.”

Archer crossed his arms, leaning against the rail, listening with interest. “Ivankov, huh? Go on.”

Sanji nodded, the redness in his face deepening. “Yeah, well, turns out the island is full of okamas. You know, men who dress as women. And they’ve made it their mission to chase me constantly, trying to put dresses on me, makeup, the whole deal. Every day for the past year.”

“A year?” Archer raised an eyebrow. “You mean to tell me you’ve been stuck on that island for a whole year, running from them?”

Sanji groaned, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah. One year of hell. I mean, Ivankov said it was part of my training, and... well, I’ve gotten stronger, but the okamas... they won’t stop. This,” he gestured to the dress he was wearing, “is just the latest in their ‘kindness.’ And now they want to do my makeup too.”

Archer stood there for a moment, letting it all sink in. Then he let out a loud laugh, slapping his knee.

After he finished laughing at Sanji's predicament, he decided the kid had suffered enough. As much fun as it had been, it wasn’t fair to let the rest of the crew see Sanji in a dress, especially when it was clear how much he hated it.

"Alright, come on," Archer said, motioning for Sanji to follow him. "Let’s get you inside before anyone else catches wind of this."

He smuggled Sanji into his and Rosinante’s cabin, shutting the door behind them. As he stood there, looking at the sorry sight of Sanji in a pink dress, something shifted in him. What started as amusement was turning into anger. Training the kid was one thing, but forcing him into something he clearly didn’t want? That was sick.

“Damn them,” Archer muttered under his breath. Sanji glanced at him, confused, but didn’t say anything.

Archer rummaged through a chest at the foot of their bed and pulled out a shirt and a pair of pants. “Here, put these on,” he said, handing them to Sanji. “Stay here and change. I’ll go get Rosi.”

Sanji took the clothes, his expression softening. “Thanks,” he muttered quietly, barely meeting Archer’s gaze.

Archer gave him a small nod before stepping out of the cabin. As the door closed behind him, he stood in the hallway for a moment, fists clenching and unclenching. The more he thought about it, the angrier he got. Forcing Sanji to wear a dress for an entire year, against his will? It wasn't right.

Archer found Rosinante exactly where he thought he’d be—hunched over in the pantry, snacking on a cookie like a guilty child caught sneaking sweets before dinner. Rosinante froze when he saw Archer approach, cheeks puffed out like a chipmunk.

"You know," Archer began, shaking his head, "if I wasn't so distracted, I'd give you hell for raiding the cookie stash."

Rosinante grinned sheepishly and, without missing a beat, held out the bag toward Archer. "Cookie?"

"Later," Archer said, waving it off as they started walking. His expression turned serious, his voice lowering. "I need you to come with me. We’ve got a situation."

Rosinante raised an eyebrow but kept munching as they walked through the narrow corridor of the ship. "What's up? You look like you've just seen a ghost."

"History’s repeating itself," Archer muttered, sounding half-annoyed, half-amused. "And for the second time in my life, I’ve saved the same kid from a damn island."

Rosinante, still not quite following, looked at him in confusion. “Wait, what? What kid?”

Archer didn’t respond right away, leading him back to their cabin. When Rosinante opened the door, his eyes went wide at the sight of Sanji, now dressed in Archer’s clothes, sitting on the edge of their bed. His arms were wrapped tightly around his body, head hanging low, blond hair obscuring most of his face. He looked utterly defeated.

“What the hell happened?” Rosinante asked, the half-eaten cookie forgotten in his hand.

Archer sighed and leaned against the doorframe, crossing his arms. "Turns out, the okamas on Kamabakka Island didn’t just train him. They’ve been forcing him into dresses and makeup, chasing him around like it’s some game. Sanji’s been stuck like that for a year."

Rosinante's mouth fell open. "Are you serious?"

"Dead serious," Archer said, glancing over at Sanji, who hadn’t moved. "He’s too proud to say it, but it’s clear he’s been through hell. I laughed it off at first, but the more I think about it, the more pissed off I get."

Rosinante stepped closer to Sanji, his expression softening as he crouched down in front of him. “Sanji,” he said gently, “why didn’t you say anything sooner?”

Sanji didn’t answer, his body trembling slightly as he gripped his arms tighter, refusing to meet their eyes. Rosinante reached out, placing a hand on Sanji’s knee.

"You’re safe here," Rosinante said softly. "No one’s going to make you do anything you don’t want to."

For a long moment, there was silence in the cabin. Sanji’s shoulders shook slightly, and Archer could see the way his fingers dug into his arms, holding back whatever emotions he was struggling with.

Archer, who was never one for being sentimental, finally stepped forward, awkwardly clearing his throat. “Look. You don’t have to explain anything. We’ve got your back, alright? Just... rest for now. We’ll figure out the rest later.”

Sanji lifted his head slightly, his eyes red but his expression determined. "Thank you," he whispered, his voice barely audible.

Archer just grunted, reaching out to ruffle Sanji’s hair in his usual rough but affectionate manner. "Yeah, just don’t burn the ship down with that weird fire leg of yours."

For the first time in what felt like forever, Sanji gave a small, tired smile.

But before Archer and Rosinante even reached the door, it slammed open with a loud bang, startling both of them. Ace, out of breath and looking like he'd sprinted the length of the ship, burst into their cabin.

"Dad! Papa!" Ace gasped, hands on his knees as he tried to catch his breath. "You gotta come quick—there’s a bunch of weirdos trying to get onboard, and Raya and Nugget are about five seconds away from killing them all—"

He stopped mid-sentence, eyes going wide as he finally noticed Sanji sitting on the bed. Sanji, still looking a bit out of sorts, glanced up with a tired expression.

“Ace,” Sanji said, his voice quiet but carrying a lot of weight behind it. "Hey."

Ace just stood there, his mouth hanging open in shock, like his brain couldn't quite process what he was seeing. “Sanji?” he blurted out, blinking rapidly. “What—what are you doing here? And... why are you dressed in dads clothes?"

Before the situation could get more awkward, Rosinante, fished out the last of his cookies and pressed it into Ace’s hand. "Here," he said, nodding toward Sanji. "Stay with him for a bit, alright? Me and your dad will go check out what’s happening on deck."

Ace, still looking shell-shocked, just nodded without another word. He didn’t even glance at the cookie in his hand, his attention fully on Sanji as he took a few tentative steps closer to him. Sanji gave a small, sheepish smile, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Hey," Sanji muttered again, voice low.

Rosinante shot Archer a look, and Archer gave a quick nod. “We’ll be back,” Archer said to the boys, already moving toward the door. "Don’t burn the cabin down, got it?"

Without waiting for a reply, Archer and Rosinante hurried out, leaving Ace standing in front of Sanji, still dumbfounded by the whole situation.

As soon as Archer and Rosinante reached the deck, the first thing they heard was Raya's voice, loud and sharp, cutting through the air like a blade.

“If you don’t fuck off this second, I swear I’ll let the bird kill you. Slowly.”

Archer's eyes swept over the scene, his anger bubbling beneath the surface. There were about eight okamas, all brightly dressed in various shades of pink and purple, standing confidently on their deck. Next to them stood a man dressed in nothing but female underwear, which, of course, made Archer raise an eyebrow in disbelief. Standing across from the group, Raya looked like she was two seconds away from launching Nugget at them. The rest of the crew stood behind her, ready to back her up.

The man in underwear stepped forward, completely oblivious to the hostility, and in an almost cheery tone asked, “So, where’s the leader of this ship?”

Just as he finished speaking, Archer slammed the door behind him with a bang that echoed across the deck, the sound making everyone, including Raya, jump a little. His eyes blazed as he stepped forward, the pure fury radiating from him. Rosinante followed closely behind, but he was more interested in observing, his hand resting casually on his side.

Archer growled, his voice low and dangerous, “You’re looking at him.”

The sheer weight of his tone caused a ripple of unease to spread through the intruders. The okamas exchanged glances, and even the man in his underwear seemed to shrink a little. The tension on the deck was so thick you could cut it with a knife. Raya smirked at Archer’s arrival, standing back a bit but still keeping Nugget primed and ready for attack. The rest of the crew just watched, waiting to see what Archer would do next.

The man in the underwear then stated to speak “W-We’re here for Sanji. We know he’s on this ship. Hand him over, and we’ll be on our way.”

Archer’s eyes narrowed dangerously, his temper flaring at the demand. “First of all," he said, his voice ice-cold, "this is my ship. You don’t come on here barking orders. And second—"

Rosi, sensing Archer was about to go nuclear, interrupted with a slight cough. “What my partner means is... No. You’re not taking him. Now, if you know what’s good for you.”

Archer crossed his arms, glaring at the group. "Unless you really wanna see what happens when I let the crazy bird lady over there and her demon bird loose."

Nugget let out a screech, flaring its wings dramatically from Raya’s shoulder. The okamas took a step back, looking at each other with concern. Even the man in his underwear gulped, clearly not liking where this was heading.

“We don’t want any trouble,” one of the okamas said, holding up her hands. “But we have orders to bring him back.”

Archer’s lip curled in a sneer. “Orders? You’re on my ship. My orders matter here.”

Archer looked the man up and down, barely able to hide his distaste for the pink lingerie and fishnets. He crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow.

"So, you’re Ivanko, right?" he asked, voice dripping with sarcasm.

The man in female underwear nodded, puffing out his chest a little. “I am! Emporio Ivankov, ruler of Kamabakka Kingdom and commander of the Revolutionary Army’s G-Force. I’ve been tasked with training Sanji—to the best of my abilities. And I have to do my job.”

Archer’s golden eyes glinted with something dangerous, and his grin was as sharp as a knife. “Is that so?” He paused for a moment, then tilted his head mockingly. “Tell me, Ivankov, do you even know what ship you’ve boarded?”

For the first time, Ivankov faltered. He glanced around the deck, noticing the fierce expressions on everyone’s faces—especially Archer’s—and the bird that was still flaring its wings ominously on Raya’s shoulder.

“I... um...” Ivankov hesitated, clearly unsure.

Archer’s grin widened as he uncrossed his arms and took a step forward. “Well, let me enlighten you. This here is my ship, the Silence, and we’re the Roaring Pirates. That’s right. I’m Portgas D. Archer, and my partner here is Donquixote Rosinante. Now, I don’t give a flying fuck about your orders, but how dare you torment my son-in-law like that?”

Ivankov’s eyes widened as the realization hit him. He was standing on the deck of the infamous Roaring Pirates, with one of the deadliest pirate duos the Grand Line had ever seen. The color seemed to drain from his face, and he stammered, “W-Wait, son-in-law? I thought you had sons! Who’s his partner?”

Just then, as if on cue, Ace stormed onto the deck, his face flushed with anger. His dark eyes blazed as he marched up to the group, his fists clenched tightly at his sides. “Me.” His voice was firm, no hesitation. “I’m Sanji’s boyfriend.”

The tension on the deck skyrocketed as Ace glared at Ivankov, looking like he was two seconds away from igniting into flames. His freckles stood out against the furious flush of his skin, and his breathing was heavy, as if he’d run the entire way there.

Ivankov blinked in shock, looking between Ace and Archer, then back to Ace. “You? But—”

“Yeah, me.” Ace cut him off, stepping in front of Archer and Rosinante protectively. “So, unless you want me to roast you alive, I suggest you and your weird crew leave right now.”

Ivankov seemed to be processing everything at once—Sanji’s connection to the Roaring Pirates, the fact that Fire Fist Ace, was his boyfriend, and the sheer magnitude of the situation he had found himself in. He swallowed nervously, clearly realizing he was in way over his head.

Archer couldn't help but let out a loud, sharp laugh. He crossed his arms, towering over Ivankov, who looked smaller by the second. “You know, this isn't the first time I’ve had to deal with your lot,” Archer said, voice thick with amusement. “A long time ago, your so-called Revolutionary Army sought me and Rosi out too. Wanted us to join them.”

Ivankov blinked in surprise. “Really? The Revolutionaries? What did you say?”

Archer’s grin turned wicked as he leaned in, eyes glinting dangerously. “I told that creepy fucker in the green cloak back then the same thing I’m gonna tell you now: Fuck off.”

Ivankov paled visibly, his bold demeanor faltering completely. “Wait… wait… Are you saying you told Monkey D. Dragon himself to… to fuck off?”

The smirk never left Archer’s face as he gave Ivankov a hard, unblinking stare. “That's right. Your little gang is ridiculous, and your leader’s a fool. An idiot, even.” His voice dropped lower, more menacing. “And by sundown tonight, every last one of Sanji’s possessions better be packed and sitting on the shore. Or else...” He let the words hang in the air, his grin fading into something far more sinister. “Who knows if Kamabakka Island might end up suffering the same fate as Enies Lobby, Sabaody, and Marineford?”

Ivankov’s face drained of all color. The mention of those infamous incidents—the destruction, the sheer chaos caused by the Roaring Pirates—clearly struck fear into him. He swallowed hard, nodding rapidly. “Y-Yes, of course. By sundown.”

Without another word, Ivankov turned on his heel, hurriedly ushering the okamas back toward their own ship. Within minutes, they were gone, retreating as fast as they could without another glance back.

The crew, who had been watching in silence, began to relax, tension easing from the air. Archer clapped his hands together, the sound breaking the quiet.

“Well, that was fun!” he declared with a grin, as if they hadn’t just threatened one of the most powerful commanders in the Revolutionary Army.

Rosinante shook his head, smiling softly as he placed a hand on Archer’s shoulder. “Only you would find that fun, Arch.”

Archer shrugged with a playful smirk. “What can I say? Gotta keep things interesting.”

Ace looked at his dad with wide, admiring eyes, a classic case of hero worship shining through. “You’re awesome, Dad!” he exclaimed, beaming.

Archer couldn’t help but grin, his heart swelling with pride. “Thanks, brat. Now go grab Sanji for me, will you?”

Ace nodded eagerly and sprinted off. When they returned a few moments later, Sanji was beaming, a new spark in his eyes. Rosinante, a gentle smile on his face. “You’ll be joining us for the next year, Sanji. Then you can reunite with the Straw Hats at Sabaody,” he said.

Sanji’s eyes lit up, and he grinned widely. “Thanks! That means a lot!”

Archer clapped him on the shoulder. “It’s nothing, really. You’re more than welcome here.”

Archer headed toward the helm to have a chat with Giles about their next course of action. But just as he passed Rosinante, he overheard a whisper that made him stop dead in his tracks.

“If you don’t want you and Sanji to get traumatized,” Rosinante murmured to Ace, “you might want to switch cabins. I have plans to do dirty dirty things to your dad tonight.”

Archer’s mouth dropped open in shock, and he barely stifled a laugh. Ace, eyes wide, turned beet red. “Ew! No way!” he shouted, his face twisting in horror as he processed the implications. Without wasting another second, he bolted down the hallway, yelling, “I’m moving my stuff to another cabin!”

Archer watched in amusement as Ace hurriedly grabbed his belongings, scuttling away like a frantic squirrel. The mental image of his son trying to escape the potential “trauma” of his dad’s romantic escapades was just too funny.

And boy did Rosi deliver! Later that evening Rosinante cornered him against the wooden wall, Archer's heart raced, and his breath quickened.

Rosinante's hands were like vices, gripping Archer's slender waist, lifting him slightly off the ground, and pressing their bodies together. Rosinante's lips crushed against Archer's, hungry and demanding. He bit down gently on the younger man's full lower lip, eliciting a soft moan that turned into a growl of pleasure. Their kiss was savage, teeth clashing and tongues dueling for dominance.

Rosinante's hands roamed over Archer's body, tearing at his shirt, desperate to feel the warm skin beneath. Buttons popped off, scattering across the floor, as Rosinante exposed Archer's chest, leaving it bare for his exploration. "You're fucking gorgeous," Rosinante growled between kisses, his hot breath fanning over Archer's sensitive neck. He nipped and sucked at the delicate skin, leaving a trail of marks. Archer's hands tangled in Rosinante's blond hair, pulling him closer, urging him on. The cabin echoed with the sounds of their frantic undressing, clothes ripping off in haste. Archer's lean muscles flexed as he wriggled out of his pants, his erection straining against his boxer briefs.

Rosinante's eyes darkened at the sight, his own cock throbbing in anticipation. Rosinante pushed Archer onto the nearby bed, the metal frame creaking under the sudden weight. He loomed over Archer, taking in the sight of his lover's body, now fully exposed and quivering with need. Archer's cock stood proud, leaking pre-cum.

Rosinante's fingers traced the lines of Archer's scars, each one a reminder of past battles and a life lived fiercely. "You're a work of art," he whispered, his voice hoarse with desire. He bent down and kissed each scar, paying homage to Archer's resilience.

Archer's breath hitched as Rosinante's lips traveled lower, nipping at his nipples, making them pebble-hard. He sucked and teased, eliciting a series of moans and curses from Archer's lips. The younger man's hands gripped the sheets, twisting them in his fists as he struggled to maintain control.

Rosinante's own clothes were discarded. He straddled Archer's thighs, his thick cock brushing against Archer's, creating a delicious friction that had Archer squirming beneath him. "Please..." Archer begged, his eyes pleading for the release only Rosinante could provide. Rosinante reached for the lube, coating his fingers generously.

He leaned down, his lips brushing against Archer's ear as he whispered, "I'll make it good for you, love. So damn good." His fingers found Archer's entrance, probing gently, ensuring he was prepared for what was to come. Archer's body trembled as Rosinante's finger slid inside him, stretching and filling him. He added a second finger, scissoring and twisting, eliciting a chorus of gasps and moans. "More..." Archer panted, his body craving the fullness only Rosinante could provide.

Rosinante obliged, adding a third finger, preparing Archer with a relentless rhythm. The younger man's hole clenched and relaxed around Rosinante's digits, slick and ready. "You're perfect," Rosinante growled, his own need growing with every passing second. With a final kiss to Archer's lips, Rosinante positioned himself at Archer's entrance, his thick cock poised to claim what was rightfully his. He thrust forward, penetrating Archer in one smooth motion, eliciting a cry of pleasure mixed with pain.

"Fuck, you're so tight," Rosinante grunted, his eyes rolling back slightly as he savored the sensation of Archer's heat enveloping him. He paused, allowing Archer to adjust to his size, before beginning a slow, relentless rhythm. Archer's body moved with Rosinante's, their skin slapping together as they fucked.

Rosinante's hands gripped Archer's hips, guiding the pace, while his other hand reached around to grasp a fistful of Archer's golden hair, holding him in place. "Yes... yes... harder!" Archer cried out, his body craving the rough treatment.

Rosinante obliged, pounding into Archer with abandon, his balls slapping against the younger man's ass. He leaned down, biting and sucking at Archer's shoulder, marking him as his own. "You like it rough, don't you love?" he growled. "Yes... fuck me... harder!" Archer's voice was raw, his body arching to meet each powerful thrust Rosinante complied, his own control fraying at the edges.

He fucked Archer with abandon, their bodies a blur of sweat and passion. The cabin was filled with the sounds of their coupling—the wet slaps of skin, the creak of the bed, and the chorus of their moans and curses. Archer's fingers dug into Rosinante’s shoulders, his body tensing as he neared the edge. "I'm close... so close..." he panted. Rosinante reached around, wrapping his large hand around Archer's cock, stroking him in time with his thrusts.

"Cum for me, Archer," he commanded, his voice thick with desire. Archer's body convulsed as he came, his release painting their stomachs with hot streaks of cum. The sight of Archer's orgasm pushed Rosinante over the edge. He thrust a few more times before filling Archer with his own seed, his cock pulsing as he emptied himself deep inside his lover.

Spent and satisfied, they collapsed onto the bed, their hearts pounding in unison. Rosinante nuzzled Archer's neck, planting soft kisses along his sweat-slicked skin. "Fuck I love you" he whispered, his voice hoarse.

Still panting from the excitement, Archer turned toward Rosi, who was sprawled out on their bed, looking like the king of the world. The sight made Archer’s heart flutter. He ran his fingers lightly over Rosi’s chest, feeling the warmth beneath his touch, and a smile spread across his face.

“It was a good idea to get Ace to move cabins,” Archer said, a teasing lilt in his voice.

Rosi chuckled, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “You know,” he said, propping himself up on one elbow, “when you gave that verbal smackdown to Ivanko, I knew I had to fuck you.”

Archer’s grin widened at the bold statement, his heart racing. “Oh, is that how it works? I just have to intimidate the hell out of our visitors” to earn some ‘quality time’?”

Rosi laughed, leaning back against the pillows, a satisfied smirk playing on his lips.

The next morning dawned bright and clear, the sun spilling golden light across the deck of the Silence. Archer stood by the helm, watching as the crew bustled about, readying the ship for departure. The log pose was finally set, and everything was in order to get the hell away from the island.

But more importantly, there was Sanji, moving around the galley with Gin, laughter bubbling from them as they cooked together. Sanji’s smile was radiant, brightening the whole ship like the sun breaking through clouds. Archer couldn’t help but smile at the sight. It was good to see Sanji so happy, especially after everything he’d been through.

Archer turned to Rosinante, who was leaning casually against the rail, looking every bit as relaxed as Archer felt. “You know,” Archer said, nodding toward the galley, “it’s a good thing Ace and I fell asleep that night. Otherwise, we might never have found Sanji.”

Rosi’s eyes twinkled with amusement as he smirked at Archer. “Yes it was, but your still and idiot.”

Archer rolled his eyes, a grin breaking out on his face. “Hey, it wasn’t my fault! It was a perfectly good nap—”

“Which you took while on duty!” Rosi interrupted, chuckling. “I think you owe me one for that, too.”

Archer pretended to ponder this for a moment, then shrugged with exaggerated nonchalance. “I’ll make it up to you. How about a blowjob then?”

In the background Ace groaned.

Chapter Text

Archer slouched against the helm, arms crossed, and eyes half-lidded in the dull haze of utter boredom. It had been days—days—since they’d last made landfall, and the monotony of open sea was wearing him thin. He drummed his fingers against the wood, the soft tap-tap-tap the only noise in the stillness of the afternoon.

He looked over at Giles, who was steering with all the calm patience of a man who had sailed far too long with this crew. Archer, on the other hand, was wound up tighter than a spring. He groaned, long and exaggerated. “How much longer to the next island?”

Without missing a beat, Giles shot him a sharp look, his shark-like eyes narrowing. “You ask me that one more time, Archer, and I swear by the ocean, I’ll string you up upside down from the Silence’s figurehead. Captain or not.”

Archer grinned, the threat only slightly tempering his restlessness. “At least then I’d have a change of scenery.”

Giles let out a low growl, muttering under his breath. Something about “stir-crazy captains” and “too much energy for his own good.” Archer didn’t pay it much mind. He was used to Giles’ grumbling—it was practically part of the ship's ambiance by now.

Still, he couldn’t shake the feeling that if he didn’t get off the ship soon, he’d go mad. Archer rubbed a hand over his face, then let it fall dramatically to his side. “I’m serious, Giles. I need to stretch my legs. I feel like a caged animal.”

From the helm, Giles snorted. “That’s ‘cause you are a animal, Archer. You just haven’t figured out how to pace your damn cage yet.”

Archer turned to glare at him, but the big fishman only gave him a crooked smile, sharp teeth glinting in the sun. Archer shook his head. “You’re no help, you know that?”

“I’m not here to babysit your boredom.”

Archer groaned again, louder this time for effect, before leaning over the railing to peer out at the endless expanse of blue. No islands in sight. Nothing but waves and sky. Great.

Just then, Rosinante’s long frame emerged from below deck, a cookie in hand—another damn cookie. Archer narrowed his eyes at him as he walked over, plopping himself next to Archer with all the grace of someone who clearly had no pressing concerns.

“You’re still snacking?” Archer asked, raising a brow. “You know Sanji’s going to cook us a feast, and you’re going to spoil your appetite.”

Rosinante shrugged, taking a slow, deliberate bite of the cookie. “I’m a growing man.”

“Yeah, sideways,” Archer muttered.

Rosinante smirked, brushing crumbs off his lap. “What’s eating you, anyway? You’ve been pacing like a lion in a cage.”

“I am in a cage!” Archer shot back, arms flailing dramatically. “And I swear if I don’t get off this ship soon, I’m going to—”

“Do what?” Rosi interrupted, his voice calm but with a glint of humor in his eyes. “Throw yourself overboard?”

Archer shot him a dirty look. “I might! Just for a change of scenery!”

“Please don’t. It’d be such a hassle fishing you out.” Rosi’s tone was lazy, but his grin was teasing.

Before Archer could retort, a loud caw echoed from the crow’s nest. Nugget, perched up high, flapped his wings in excitement. Raya’s voice followed shortly after, shouting down, “Land ho!”

Archer bolted upright, his heart leaping. “Finally!”

Giles shot him a glare as he adjusted the course. “If you jump off this ship before we dock, I’ll have Nugget pluck you out of the water and roast you for dinner.”

Ignoring the grumbling, Archer leaned over the rail again, eyes scanning the horizon eagerly until he spotted it—an island. Small, but land nonetheless. Freedom.

Turning back to Rosinante with a triumphant grin, he clapped him on the shoulder. “Told you I wouldn’t need to jump.”

Rosinante’s lips quirked in a lazy grin. “You’re still an idiot.”

“And yet,” Archer said, already heading below deck to get his things, “you love me anyway.”

Rosinante just chuckled, watching him go.

As soon as the Silence docked, Archer and Ace shot off the ship like cannonballs, not even sparing a glance at the others. Neither Rosinante nor Sanji stood a chance of stopping them—the father-son duo was already sprinting down the beach like wild maniacs.

Archer, full of boundless energy after being cooped up for so long, suddenly launched himself into a series of somersaults, his infectious laughter ringing out over the beach. "C'mon, brat! Keep up!" he called, mid-spin.

Ace, never one to back down from a challenge, tried to mimic his father’s acrobatics, but mid-flip, he misjudged his landing and went crashing face-first into the sand with a muffled thud. His legs flailed for a second before he lay still, groaning.

Sanji, standing at the edge of the shore with his hands on his hips, could only sigh, shaking his head as he watched his boyfriend's miserable attempt. His eyes shifted from Ace's prone form to Archer, who was now spinning wildly through the air, laughing and pointing. "Loser!" Archer shouted down, clearly enjoying himself far too much.

Sanji groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Why did I fall in love with that idiot?"

Rosinante, who was watching the whole scene unfold with a bemused expression, clapped Sanji on the shoulder. “Well, we did choose them, didn’t we?”

Sanji glanced up at him, a tired but amused smile pulling at his lips. “Yeah… we really did.”

With a shake of his head and a small laugh, Sanji walked over to where Ace was still face down in the sand. Reaching down, he grabbed his boyfriend’s arm and hoisted him up. “You okay?”

Ace, spitting out a mouthful of sand, gave him a sheepish grin. “I’m fine. Just didn’t stick the landing.”

Sanji smirked. “You’ll get there. Someday.”

From across the beach, Archer, now standing on his hands, called out, “Get that boy some balance lessons, Sanji! Its fucking embarrassing.”

Ace, brushing off the sand and glaring playfully, shouted back, “I’ll get you next time, old man!”

Archer laughed, flipping back to his feet effortlessly. “We’ll see, kid. We’ll see.”

Rosinante, watching the chaotic scene with his usual calm, gave Sanji another pat on the back. “At least it’s never boring with them.”

Sanji sighed, though his smile said he wouldn’t trade this madness for anything. “Yeah, never boring...”

Out of nowhere, Raya came barreling past like her ass was on fire, ripping off her clothes and sprinting across the beach, now only in her bra and panties, with Timble tucked snugly into her cleavage, grinning from ear to ear. "Hey, you idiots! I spotted a lake with a waterfall just past those trees!" she hollered over her shoulder.

Before she’d even finished speaking, Archer and Ace were already in hot pursuit, peeling off their shirts and pants as they ran. In mere seconds, both father and son were tearing after her, wearing nothing but their boxers.

The sight left Rosinante, Sanji, Gin, and Giles standing on the beach, mouths agape, as they stared after the trio sprinting off like a pack of wild animals.

Gin was the first to break the silence, scratching his head. "Are they... racing to the waterfall?"

Giles, with his usual deadpan expression, folded his arms. “I’d say they’ve lost their damn minds.”

Sanji, wide-eyed, still couldn’t seem to comprehend what just happened. “Did… did they seriously strip down and run off like that? In broad daylight?”

Rosinante just sighed, shaking his head with a chuckle. “Welcome to the family, Sanji.” He gave him a playful nudge. "They do this kind of thing a lot. Might as well get used to it."

Sanji groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I'm already regretting everything..." he muttered, though the small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth said otherwise.

From the distance, they could still hear Archer laughing wildly, his voice echoing back over the beach.

The day turned out to be one for the books. After Raya, Archer, and Ace reached the lake, the rest of the crew eventually caved in and followed suit. What started as a chaotic sprint had turned into an impromptu day of fun.

The waterfall was huge, crashing down into the lake like a never-ending roar, and the water was just the right temperature—cool enough to feel refreshing, but not so cold it chased anyone out. Archer, as expected, was the first to dive in, yelling, “Last one in’s a coward!” before plunging into the water with a huge splash. Ace, of course, followed right after, his competitive spirit in full swing, but not before trying to outdo his dad by attempting a flip. He didn’t quite nail it, but the face-first splash got everyone laughing.

Sanji and Gin finally gave in and joined the madness, while Giles, lounged on a rock nearby, arms crossed but a small smile betraying his amusement. Even Rosinante, always up for some fun, couldn’t resist. He jumped in with a dramatic cannonball, sending a huge wave of water over everyone and getting a solid groan from Raya, who had just gotten comfortable on a floating log.

“Really, Rosi?” she sputtered, wiping water from her face.

“Sorry! Couldn’t help myself!” Rosinante grinned sheepishly.

For hours, they swam, splashed, and played around the waterfall like they had no cares in the world. Archer and Ace made a game of climbing the rocks and jumping off into the lake, each time trying to outdo the other with more ridiculous stunts. Raya and Timble kept challenging Sanji to swim races, which Sanji won every time, though Timble always claimed the victories for himself from his perch on Raya’s chest. Gin, being the quiet one, still enjoyed himself by floating peacefully on his back, taking it all in.

At one point, Giles finally gave in and stripped down to his shorts, much to the shock of the crew. “What? Even I need a break sometimes,” he grumbled before diving in smoothly, leaving Archer to tease him about being a secret water god.

Archer, soaking wet but with a wild grin plastered on his face, suddenly froze mid-laugh. His nose twitched, and he lifted his head, sniffing the air like a predator catching the scent of prey. That unmistakable, familiar smell hit him—a mix of antiseptic and that unique, stubborn attitude wrapped up in one scent.

"Well, well, well" he muttered to himself, grinning even wider. Without another word, Archer jumped out of the water, bolting into the nearby trees.

"Where's he going now?" Ace asked, bewildered, as the others all stared after Archer’s retreating form.

"Probably up to no good," Sanji sighed, rolling his eyes.

Rosi squinted after Archer, already sensing what was coming. "Wait…"

Before anyone had time to follow or guess what Archer was doing, they all heard a loud, very familiar voice break through the trees.

“DAD!!”

The crew's heads whipped toward the forest, just in time to see Archer sprinting back toward the lake—this time with a very panicked Law slung over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. Law’s usual cool, composed demeanor was nowhere to be found; his arms flailed wildly as he yelled in protest.

“Dad, put me down!” Law bellowed, struggling, his usual commanding voice cracking in his panic.

But Archer was already in full sprint, laughing like a madman as he barreled toward the water. With a triumphant yell, he jumped into the air, bringing Law with him as he plunged back into the lake with a massive splash.

The entire crew stood there, mouths agape, watching the chaos unfold.

"Well, that escalated quickly," Raya muttered, clearly impressed.

Law surfaced, sputtering and glaring daggers at Archer, his hair plastered to his face and looking like a drowned cat. “What the hell is wrong with you?!”

Archer, laughing so hard he could barely breathe, simply floated on his back. “I smelled you, kid! Figured it was about time I dragged you into the fun!”

Law’s eyes narrowed, but despite his dripping state, there was a small hint of relief in his expression—though he’d never admit it. “I was fine where I was.”

“Nah,” Archer grinned, swimming closer and ruffling Law’s wet hair.

Rosinante, shaking his head with a fond smile, waded over to the pair. “It’s good to see you, Law. Welcome back to the madness.”

Law sighed, crossing his arms and trying to maintain his composure despite the chaos Archer had dragged him into. “Yeah, yeah… I missed you guys too.”

Ace swam over, grinning at his brother. "You really thought you could sneak in without Dad finding you?"

"Clearly not," Law muttered, but even he couldn't fully hide the small, genuine smile tugging at his lips as the rest of the crew began to welcome him back in their own way.

Rosinante chuckled softly as he waded over to Law, ruffling the younger man’s soaked hair. "So, what exactly are you doing here?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

Law shot a withering glare at Archer, who was still floating on his back, looking far too pleased with himself. “I was setting up an ambush with my crew,” he began, clearly annoyed. “But I didn’t get a chance to finish because dad,” Law emphasized, looking directly at Archer, “decided to kidnap me before I could put my plan into action.”

Archer gave an exaggerated shrug, his grin never fading. “You and your plans!”

Before Law could respond, a commotion erupted from the edge of the trees. The unmistakable sound of frantic footsteps thundered toward them, and moments later, the Heart Pirates burst into view, with Penguin and Bepo leading the charge.

“Captain!” Penguin shouted, looking around wildly.

“He’s been kidnapped by maniacs!” Bepo bellowed, eyes wide with panic as he scanned the water.

Raya, still standing in the lake in nothing but her bra and panties, caught sight of Penguin and her face lit up with excitement. “Penguin!” she squealed.

Without warning, she launched herself out of the water, sprinting straight for him, her wet hair flying behind her as she tackled Penguin to the ground in one swift motion.

Penguin barely had time to register what was happening before he was tackled, landing in the sand with a surprised “oomph” as Raya grinned down at him. “I’ve missed you, you idiot!” she exclaimed, kissing him.

Penguin, now thoroughly dazed, blinked up at her, his cheeks turning bright red. "R-Raya?"

The rest of the Heart Pirates skidded to a halt, taking in the scene before them—Law glaring at Archer, Bepo hyperventilating, and their second-in-command being tackled and kissed by a half-naked woman. It was total chaos, and they had no idea what to make of it.

"Captain!" Bepo finally managed to find his voice. "Are you alright? Did they—" He paused, staring at the scene with a confused expression.

Law pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing heavily. “I’m fine, Bepo. It’s just… my dads.”

Bepo and the others exchanged bewildered glances.

Rosi waved over at the Heart Pirates, smiling warmly. “Law’s fine.”

Archer, still grinning like a madman, sat up in the water and shouted, "Sorry, boys, had to borrow your captain for a bit. He looked like he needed a break from all the planning!"

The Heart Pirates stared in stunned silence, clearly not expecting this kind of reunion. Bepo blinked, looking from Law to Archer. "A break?"

Law groaned, rubbing his temples. "Yes, a break, Bepo. They’ve lost their minds. Again."

Rosinante raised an eyebrow, intrigued by Law’s mention of the ambush. “What kind of ambush are we talking about here?” he asked, his voice calm but laced with curiosity. He leaned casually against the side of the lake, eyes fixed on his son.

Law crossed his arms, clearly serious now. “Even though you defeated Doflamingo at Marineford,” Law began, glancing at Rosinante, “he’s still very much alive.”

At that, Archer and Rosinante exchanged a quick, knowing look. Rosinante’s expression darkened slightly, but Archer’s jaw clenched with a mix of frustration and concern.

Law continued, “I’ve been tracking him, and he’s up to something—something bad. There’s a ship scheduled to dock here tomorrow, led by a man named Buggy the Clown.”

Ace, standing nearby, immediately frowned and glanced over at Gin. “Wait, Buggy? The weirdo from Marineford?” he asked, his voice a mix of disbelief and confusion.

Gin nodded, confirming Ace’s suspicion. “Must be. Clown getup, big personality. Definitely strange.”

Archer folded his arms across his chest, clearly unimpressed. “Why would you go through all the trouble to ambush him of all people?” he asked, tilting his head slightly. “Not exactly the most threatening pirate out there.”

Law sighed, his eyes narrowing. “It’s not just about Buggy. He’s in possession of stolen maps that lead to the secret location of one of Doflamingo’s hidden facilities. I need those maps if I’m going to figure out what Doflamingo’s planning. He’s lying low, but he’s definitely not out of the game.”

The mention of Doflamingo’s facility caused a ripple of tension to run through the group. Rosinante clenched his fists, and Archer’s face darkened, a flicker of anger flashing in his golden eyes. Doflamingo, alive and scheming, was not something either of them took lightly.

Raya, still hugging a very flustered Penguin from behind, grinned at Law. “So, you’re planning a little heist, huh? Do you need some help?” she asked, clearly eager for some action. Timble peeked out from her cleavage, also grinning like a troublemaker ready for a good time.

Law glanced over at his father, then back at Raya and the rest of the crew. “I wasn’t planning on dragging anyone else into this. But if Buggy is as much of a pain as he was during Marineford…” His voice trailed off as he looked around at the group—this wild, unpredictable family who thrived in chaos. “Maybe having you all involved wouldn’t be the worst idea.”

Archer clapped Law on the back, grinning widely. “Now that’s the spirit! We’ll get those maps, no problem. Buggy won’t know what hit him.”

Rosinante chuckled softly, his eyes softening as he looked at Law. “You know we’ve got your back, kid. If Doflamingo’s involved, we’re not sitting this one out.”

Ace, still frowning in thought, added, “And if Buggy’s part of it, there’s a chance the Marines are watching him.”

The next afternoon, the crew was set and ready for action. Everyone knew their roles, and despite the usual chaos that followed Archer and his family, there was a surprising amount of organization to the plan.

Archer, standing tall in his bear form, glanced over at Ace, who was readying himself with a mischievous grin. Timble perched confidently on his shoulder, and Nugget was nestled on his other. Bepo, positioned next to them, looked equally ready, his white fur bristling in anticipation.

“Alright, Ace,” Archer rumbled, his deep bear voice carrying the weight of command. “You ready to burn down this circus?”

Ace laughed, already lighting a small flame in his hand. “You know it, Dad. Let’s give them a show they won’t forget.”

With the crew's positions finalized, Archer looked towards Law and the rest of the infiltration team—Sanji, Raya, and Gin. Law, ever the strategist, was double-checking the details of the plan with Sanji, who had a cigarette dangling from his lips. Raya, on the other hand, was practically bouncing with excitement, already eyeing the Buggy Pirates' ship with greedy delight. "Maps, treasure, whatever they’ve got, it's ours," she said, her grin wide.

Gin, more reserved but equally dangerous, gave a firm nod to Law. “We’ll be quick. Get in, get out.”

Law gave them all a final glance. "Remember, we’re here for the maps first. But if you see anything else useful, grab it." He met Archer's gaze across the distance, giving a subtle nod. "We'll meet you at the rendezvous point once we've got what we need."

Archer nodded back, his massive bear form radiating confidence. “Don’t worry about us. We’ll keep them plenty distracted.”

The rest of the crew, led by Rosinante and Penguin, took up their positions on lookout duty. Rosi, the careful tactician when the situation called for it, had a calm but serious demeanor. “If any other ships show up, we’ll signal. Just make sure Buggy’s crew doesn’t have a clue what’s going on until it’s too late.”

Penguin, standing beside him, adjusted his hat and nodded. “We’ll handle it.”

And then, with everything set, the plan went into motion.

As soon as the Buggy Pirates made landfall, Archer, Ace, and Bepo burst into action. Archer charged forward, his massive bear paws thundering against the ground as Ace rode on his back, shooting fireballs into the air. The sight was both awe-inspiring and terrifying—flames crackling through the sky as Archer let out a ferocious roar.

The Buggy Pirates, caught off guard by the sudden onslaught of fire and fury, scattered in panic. Timble screeched with delight from Archer’s shoulder, adding to the chaos, while Nugget darted around, cawing furiously to add to the noise.

“Come on, you fuckers!” Ace shouted, hurling another fireball. “Let’s see if you can handle the heat!”

The pirates, terrified and disoriented, fled further inland, exactly as planned. Archer and Bepo barreled through their ranks, scattering them even more, making sure none of them could regroup. The sheer size of Archer in his bear form and the flames flying from Ace created a devastating combination.

While chaos reigned on the shore, Law’s infiltration team moved quickly and silently toward Buggy’s ship. Law led the way, his sharp eyes scanning the area for any guards or stragglers. Raya and Gin followed close behind, while Sanji took the rear, his sharp senses alert for any signs of trouble.

Raya, still giddy with excitement, whispered to Law, “I’m grabbing every shiny thing I see.”

“Just focus on the maps,” Law muttered, though a small smirk crossed his face. “We don’t have time for distractions.”

They reached the ship’s deck without incident, and Sanji gave a quick signal, indicating the coast was clear. Law motioned for them to split up—he would handle finding the maps while the others searched for anything of value.

Raya immediately darted off, already eyeing a chest in the corner of the deck. “You’re coming with me,” she whispered to herself, grinning wickedly.

Back on shore, Archer and Ace were still running wild. Ace laughed as Archer, still in bear form, slammed into a group of Buggy’s pirates, sending them flying. “Losers!” Archer called after them, his deep voice rumbling with amusement.

“Dad, focus!” Ace yelled, though he was grinning ear to ear. “We’ve got to keep them distracted!”

“I am focusing!” Archer retorted, leaping into the air and doing a quick somersault mid-air before crashing back down. The pirates screamed and fled even faster, much to Ace’s delight.

Rosinante, watching from his lookout position with Giles and Penguin, sighed with a mix of exasperation and affection.

By the time Law and his team returned from the ship, maps and treasure in hand, Archer and Ace had successfully chased the remaining Buggy Pirates deep into the island. The crew regrouped at the rendezvous point, Law holding the maps up with a satisfied look on his face.

“Got what we came for,” he said simply.

After a successful ambush, the crew retreated back to the serene lake, the sound of the water lapping gently against the shore contrasting sharply with the chaos they had just left behind. The sun began its descent, painting the sky in shades of orange and pink, and Archer felt a sense of calm wash over him.

They settled by the water, waiting for any sign of the Buggy Pirates. Timble and Nugget had taken to scouting, flitting through the trees and keeping a vigilant watch. It took a few hours, but eventually, Nugget landed softly on Law’s head, chirping excitedly.

“Hey, what’s the word?” Law asked, trying to swat Nugget off gently, his expression a mix of annoyance and amusement.

Timble swooped down. “They’ve sailed away! The coast is clear.”

Archer stretched his arms and let out a satisfied sigh. “Well, that’s a relief. Now we can finally relax. Anyone else feel like we’ve earned ourselves a feast?”

Just as he spoke, Sanji, who had been rummaging through their supplies, popped his head up with a big grin. “Did someone say feast? I’ve got enough food to feed an army!” He waved a handful of ingredients in the air like a prize, his eyes sparkling with enthusiasm.

“Then let’s get this party started!” Ace shouted, already bouncing on his heels, ready to dive into whatever culinary magic Sanji had up his sleeve.

Before long, a bonfire was blazing on the beach, the flames flickering and crackling as everyone gathered around. Sanji had outdone himself, cooking up a storm—grilled meats, savory dishes, and a mountain of rice that made everyone’s mouths water. Laughter and chatter filled the air as the crew dug in, plates piled high with food.

Archer leaned back against a rock, a plate of food in his lap, enjoying the vibrant atmosphere. He caught sight of Rosinante, who was talking animatedly with Sanji and Gin, their faces lit by the firelight. Ace was next to him, animatedly recounting their wild antics earlier that day, punctuated by peals of laughter from the others.

As the night wore on, Law approached Archer and Rosinante, a serious expression on his face. He looked around, ensuring they were somewhat alone amid the revelry. “I need to talk to you guys about something,” he said, his tone shifting from casual to focused.

“What’s up, Law?” Archer asked, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

“The maps we got from Buggy’s ship... they lead to a place called Punk Hazard. I’m planning to go there soon,” Law said, his gaze steady. “I was wondering if the Roaring Pirates would join me.”

Archer exchanged a glance with Rosinante, both of them considering the implications. “We’d be in,” Rosi said, nodding. “But we have to make a quick stop first. We need to drop off Sanji in Sabaody and say hi to Luffy and the others.”

A few minutes later, Ace plopped down in the sand beside Archer, the sound of laughter and chatter fading into the background for a moment. Archer glanced over, sensing something was off. His son had that familiar serious look on his face, and Archer couldn’t help but feel a twinge of concern.

“What’s wrong?” Archer asked gently, prodding him a bit.

Ace sighed, running a hand through his messy hair, the black strands catching the firelight. He turned to Archer, his expression earnest. “Dad, how long did it take for you and papa to... you know, start sleeping together? Like, sex and stuff.”

Archer blinked, caught off guard. The last thing he expected was to be having this conversation with his son. “Uh, where did this come from?” he stammered, trying to process Ace’s question.

Ace looked down, his gaze fixed on the sand, the grains shifting slightly as he moved his fingers through them. “It’s just... Sanji and I haven’t done it yet. We’re both... you know, virgins, and I’m kind of nervous and a little afraid.”

Archer gulped. He felt the weight of the conversation settle around them, and he took a deep breath. This wasn’t just a casual chat; it was a moment of vulnerability for Ace. He shifted slightly to face his son more directly, a gentle smile creeping onto his lips. “Well, let me tell you, when I first met your papa, I was only 17—almost 18. He was 26, that old cradle robber.” Archer began, recalling the whirlwind of emotions from years ago.

“I was an outlaw, and he was a marine—well, former marine at that point. We spent nearly four years dancing around each other, not even realizing how we felt. Add in the chaos of raising you, Luffy, and Sabo, and it was a whole lot of uncertainty.” He chuckled softly, shaking his head at the memories. “We started kissing and did a lot of touching  you see, I was a virgin, never trusted another person enough to go all the way. But your papa? He was patient, letting me decide when I was ready. Until then we didn’t actually... you know, take that step.”

Archer paused, letting the warmth of the fire envelop them as he continued, “But one night, we just threw caution to the wind and let our instincts take over. We didn’t overthink it; we just... went for it.” He looked at Ace, trying to convey the importance of being true to oneself. “So, maybe you just need to let things happen naturally with Sanji. Take the first step if you feel ready to show him you want him.”

Ace nodded, a thoughtful expression on his face as he absorbed Archer's words. “Thanks, Dad. That... that really helps.” He smiled, albeit shyly, the nervousness easing a bit.

Archer clapped Ace on the shoulder, feeling a swell of pride. “You’ve got this, Ace. Just be yourself, and don’t rush it. It’ll happen when it’s meant to.”

Ace suddenly wrapped his arms around Archer, pulling him into a tight hug. “Thanks, Dad,” he said, his voice muffled against Archer’s shoulder. Then, with a burst of energy, he bolted over to where Sanji was, hoisting the chef over his shoulder with ease and taking off toward the forest, a move he had seen Rosi do many times.

“Hey! Put me down!” Sanji yelped, his protests drowned out by Ace’s laughter as they sprinted away. Archer couldn’t help but shake his head, grinning widely. The sight of his son gallivanting off with his boyfriend brought back a rush of memories—some sweet, some a bit chaotic—but all of them filled with love and joy.

Just as Archer was lost in his thoughts, he felt familiar arms wrap around his torso. He turned his head slightly to see Rosinante, his head resting on Archer’s neck, a comforting weight that made everything feel right in the world. “You’re a good father,” Rosi whispered, his breath warm against Archer’s skin. “I love you.”

Archer smiled, feeling warmth spread through him at Rosi's words. “I love you too, Rosi. But do you still have as much stamina as back then?” he teased, raising an eyebrow playfully.

Before he knew it, Rosinante had effortlessly hoisted him over his shoulder. “Oh, I’ll show you stamina!” Rosi declared with a laugh, his tone both teasing and challenging.

“Hey! What are you doing?!” Archer exclaimed, half-laughing, half-protesting as Rosinante strode confidently toward the ship, Archer’s legs swinging slightly in the air.

“Just giving you a proper welcome back to the Silence,” Rosi replied cheekily, a mischievous glint in his eye. “And trust me, you’re going to enjoy this.”

Archer could only chuckle, the sound echoing in the warm night air as Rosi carried him off, leaving behind the bonfire and the laughter of their friends and a groaning Law.

Chapter Text

Archer stood at the figurehead of the Silence, arms crossed, his eyes fixed on the sight of Sabaody Archipelago in the distance. The towering trees and giant bubbles floating lazily through the air might’ve seemed serene to anyone else, but to Archer, the place looked as rundown as ever. Without a shred of hesitation, he blurted out, “This place looks like shit.”

Next to him, Raya burst out laughing, her wild cackle filling the air. “And whose fault is that?” she teased, elbowing him in the ribs.

Archer shrugged, a crooked grin tugging at his lips. “Take your pick—Marines, the World Government, those damn Celestial Dragons… pick any one of them.” He glanced at Raya, eyes glinting with mischief. “But, if we’re being real, the only reason we tore this place apart was because they took Ace. Leaning by doing right, yeah?”

Raya snorted, crossing her arms and leaning against the figurehead. “Yeah, well, nothing says ‘don’t mess with my family’ like burning half a damn island to the ground. Good times.”

Archer chuckled, his gaze softening as he looked back at Sabaody. The memories of that day—of the desperation, the anger, the lengths he and Rosinante went to for Ace—played in the back of his mind like a reel he couldn’t shut off. The madness they’d unleashed was justified in his eyes. No one messed with his son and got away with it.

“You ever regret it?” Raya asked suddenly, her voice quieter now, the playful tone gone.

“Regret it?” Archer echoed, brow raised as he shot her a sideways glance. “Hell no. If I could’ve, I’d have leveled the whole damn place. If they hadn’t taken Ace and taunted us with it, we wouldn’t have had to go in guns blazing. They chose this fight.”

Raya nodded, her lips quirking into a smirk. “You know, I’ve always admired that about you, Archer. No hesitation. Just pure, unfiltered fuck you energy.”

Archer grinned, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “It’s a gift.”

They both fell into a comfortable silence for a moment, the wind whipping through their hair, the sound of the waves crashing against the ship’s hull. The tension of their impending stop at Sabaody lingered, but there was also a sense of excitement.

“So,” Raya began again, “what’s the plan when we get there? Other than saying hi to your youngest?”

Archer snorted. “Luffy’s not ‘little’ anymore, but yeah, I guess we’ll check in on him, make sure he’s still in one piece. Maybe grab a drink or two if we have time. drop off Sanji and get back on track with Law’s lead on Punk Hazard.”

Raya nodded, a gleam in her eye. “And if trouble shows up? Because, knowing your family, it will.”

Archer cracked his knuckles, grinning wickedly. “Then we’ll deal with it. The way we always do.”

Raya grinned back, and for a moment, they both just stood there, staring at Sabaody, knowing full well that nothing ever went according to plan. But that was part of the thrill, wasn’t it? A good fight, a little chaos, and some well-deserved payback if needed.

Archer was still admiring the remnants of their handiwork on Sabaody when Rosinante's voice rang out from below deck, cutting through his thoughts. “Archer! Get your butt down here!”

Archer grinned wickedly, not bothering to hide his satisfaction. “I’m admiring my artwork of destruction, Rosi! Don’t rush me!” he called back.

Rosinante’s voice grew louder, more urgent. “Zeff’s on the Denden, you idiot!”

That got Archer’s attention. Still smirking, he leapt down from his perch and made his way to the galley, casually picking up the snail. “Oi, old geezer, still alive?”

The voice that came through the snail scoffed in response, as gruff as ever. “Still an idiot, I see. You ever grow a brain, Archer?”

Grinning ear to ear, Archer leaned back, loving every second of this banter. “I missed you too, Zeff.”

On the other end, Archer swore he heard the chef’s lips twitch into a grin, but Zeff was quick to turn the conversation serious. “How’s Eggplant? That boy never writes me anymore.”

Archer glanced over at Rosinante, his grin never fading. “Sanji’s doing okay,” he said. Then, with a gleam in his eye, he added, “Hey, you talk to him lately? He tell you the big news?”

There was a pause, then Zeff’s gruff voice again. “No, the brat hasn’t said a damn thing. What’s going on?”

With a shit-eating grin, Archer couldn’t resist. “Well, looks like we’re family now. Our son’s been bugging your son. We’re practically in-laws at this point!”

Before he could bask in the moment, Rosinante, standing behind him, smacked him lightly on the back of the head. “Have some tact, idiot.”

Archer shot his partner a look and stuck his tongue out, to which Rosinante calmly poked it back with a finger. Without thinking, Archer bit it, grinning even wider at Rosinante’s playful glare.

Zeff’s voice broke the moment with a dry chuckle. “Not surprised. Sanji always had a crush on you when he was younger. So when a dark-haired mini version of you comes along? No wonder the boy’s chasing after Ace like an alcoholic after a bottle of liquor.”

Archer’s grin vanished, his expression turning from smug to stunned in record time. “W-what?”

Rosinante burst out laughing, slapping the table. “Brutal, Zeff! Absolutely brutal!”

Zeff wasn’t done. “Anyway, read the damn news, will ya? Got more important things to do than listen to you two bicker.” And with that, the old chef hung up.

Archer was left blinking at the receiver, still recovering from Zeff’s bluntness. Rosinante, however, was having the time of his life, still chuckling as he leaned against the table.

“I like him,” Rosi muttered between laughs.

Archer rubbed his face, shaking his head. “Why does every old man I meet want to roast me alive?”

Rosinante patted him on the shoulder. “Because you’re an easy target.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” Despite his grumbling, Archer couldn’t help but smile as he tossed the receiver back into its cradle. Zeff had a way of cutting through the crap, and in a weird way, Archer respected that.

As the crew gathered on the dock, Giles waved them off from the Silence, claiming he needed the ship for some peace. Archer grinned; that was just Giles for you. The rest of them—Rosi, Ace, Sanji, Gin, and Raya, Timble and Nugget—stood ready. Rosinante turned to Sanji, raising an eyebrow. “Where’re the Straw Hats supposed to meet again?”

Sanji lit a cigarette, taking a drag before exhaling. “Shakky’s place. Just down the way.”

Archer nodded. “Alright, let’s get going. Not a marine in sight. Yay us.”

As they started their walk through Sabaody, a quiet air of relief settled over them. No marines, no world government agents lurking about. It was almost… relaxing. Almost.

Then Gin spotted something that broke their peace. “Oi, look at this!” he said, pointing to a poster plastered on a nearby wall. It was a recruitment notice for the Straw Hat Pirates.

Archer squinted at it, then begrudgingly pulled out his reading glasses from his pocket, ignoring Ace’s silent grin of amusement behind him. “What a load of bullshit,” Archer muttered, adjusting the glasses as he scanned the words. Straw Hat Pirates, recruiting.

As they continued walking, their path was suddenly interrupted by a blur of movement. Nami and Usopp came barreling out of a bar, nearly knocking them over. The two of them were breathless, wide-eyed, and clearly fleeing from something.

“What the hell happened to you two?” Archer asked, crossing his arms.

Nami, catching her breath, pointed a thumb back toward the bar they’d just vacated. “Started a barfight… by accident.”

Rosi chuckled, shaking his head. “Of course you did.”

Before anyone could say another word, Nami dashed over and threw her arms around Archer and Rosinante, smiling brightly. “I missed you guys!”

Rosi returned the hug warmly while Archer stood a bit awkwardly, still not used to the Straw Hat’s bursts of affection, but he patted her shoulder, nonetheless. “Good to see you too, Nami.”

Usopp, meanwhile, was already telling Ace about the details of their little "mishap," his voice frantic but clearly exaggerating for dramatic effect. Gin raised an eyebrow, skeptical but amused.

With that, they all started making their way toward Shakky’s bar, strolling through the streets of Sabaody. It felt like old times, even amidst the occasional barfight or chaos—though, thankfully, no marines seemed to be in sight.

As they walked, Rosinante leaned over to Archer, murmuring with a grin, “You’re still a terrible hugger, you know that?”

Archer just rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah. Lead the way, lover boy.”

As they stepped into Shakky's Rip-Off Bar, the scent of tobacco and aged wood filled the air. A tall, black-haired woman stood behind the counter, leaning casually with a cigarette between her fingers. Shakky herself. She glanced up as they entered, a sly smile spreading across her face.

"Well, well," Shakky greeted them, her voice smooth. "Looks like the gang’s all here. Nami, Usopp, Sanji. Good to see you back. But the only Straw Hat who's shown up so far is Zoro. And, well, you just missed him."

Usopp smacked his forehead dramatically, groaning. “Are you serious? Now we’ll never find him!”

Nami sighed, folding her arms. "Zoro's probably lost somewhere in the archipelago by now."

Archer snickered, exchanging an amused glance with Rosinante. "Sounds like your swordsman."

Rosinante nodded with a chuckle. “Classic Zoro.”

Sanji, shaking his head in disbelief, took a seat at the bar, lighting another cigarette. “That moss-headed idiot. It’s always something with him.”

Rosinante glanced over at Sanji, Nami, Usopp, and Ace. “Why don’t you guys head out and see if you can track down Zoro and the others? The sooner we find everyone, the better.”

Sanji, still puffing on his cigarette, stood up with a slight groan. “Yeah, alright. Not like we’ve got anything better to do.”

Nami sighed but nodded. “Fine. If Zoro’s not getting himself into trouble, someone else probably is.”

Ace grinned, nudging Usopp, who looked reluctant. “Come on, it'll be fun. Plus, if we find Zoro, we’ll have some stories to tell.”

Usopp groaned. “Why does it always have to be an adventure with you guys?”

The four of them headed for the door, leaving Archer and Rosinante behind. Archer leaned back against the bar, scratching his chin. Zeff’s words were still bouncing around in his head, and he figured it wouldn’t hurt to check the news. Especially considering they hadn't gotten a paper in weeks, thanks to Timble’s hobby of shooting down the newsbirds.

Archer glanced over at Shakky, grinning lazily. “Hey, you got a newspaper lying around that I could borrow? I’d ask Timble to go fetch one, but let’s just say our paper delivery service is... permanently out of commission.”

Shakky raised an eyebrow, her grin widening. “Newsbird problem, huh?”

Archer chuckled. “Yeah, more like an overexcited sniper problem. Every time those birds come by, he thinks it’s target practice.”

Shakky let out a soft laugh and reached behind the counter, pulling out a neatly folded newspaper. “Lucky for you, I keep a stash here. Go on, take it.”

Archer took the paper with a nod of thanks, flipping it open as he leaned against the bar. “Let’s see what madness the world’s up to now,” he muttered, scanning the headlines.

Rosinante, leaning next to him, smirked. “You know it’s never boring out there.”

“Boring? What’s that?” Archer quipped, his eyes skimming the articles.

As he scanned the news, his brow furrowed. Something in the headlines caught his attention. "Well, looks like Zeff wasn't just blowing smoke. There's something going down... again."

Twenty minutes had passed, and Archer was still on a rampage, this time directing his fiery rant at Law, who, according to the latest news, was now officially a Warlord of the Sea.

“A fucking Warlord? What the hell was the brat thinking? Sending a hundred beating hearts to the damn World Government?!" Archer yelled, pacing in front of the bar. He was clearly conflicted, caught somewhere between pride and exasperation. “I mean, yeah, that’s impressive—but seriously?! What part of ‘keep a low profile’ does that kid not understand?!”

The Roaring Pirates sat around, casually reading the rest of the newspaper. They’d become experts at blocking out Archer’s rants, having endured countless similar episodes over the years. Timble absentmindedly flipped a page, completely unfazed by the storm of expletives Archer was hurling.

But Rosinante, who had been quietly reading a different article, suddenly froze. His eyes locked onto a headline that had nothing to do with Law’s Warlord status. It was an article about the reunion of the Straw Hats. Something about it sent a chill down his spine.

He looked around Sabaody, noticing the eerie calm. No Marines. No bounty hunters. Nothing. It didn’t add up.

"Shit..." Rosinante muttered under his breath, realization dawning on him. Without wasting another second, he stood up sharply, cutting through Archer’s tirade mid-sentence.

“We need to move,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument. In one swift motion, he grabbed Archer by the collar of his shirt, effectively silencing his rant.

“Oi! What the—” Archer began to protest, but before he could finish, Rosinante had already hoisted him toward the door.

“The Marines are up to something. We’ve got no time to waste,” Rosinante explained as he dragged Archer out of the bar, urgency in his steps.

The rest of the crew, sensing something serious was happening, quickly fell in line, abandoning their papers and drinks without question. They had long since learned to trust Rosinante’s instincts. If he said they had to move, they moved.

As they burst out of Shakky’s bar and into the streets of Sabaody, Archer finally managed to get his bearings. He shot Rosinante a sideways glance, muttering, “You know, you could’ve just told me to stop ranting.”

Rosinante smirked, not slowing down. “When has that ever worked?”

As they ran up the street, Archer’s eyes widened at the sight before them: Luffy and the rest of his crew were in the thick of a battle, and they weren’t alone. A grinning Ace was there too, trading blows with what looked like multiple Kumas. Or were they? Archer blinked, his confusion mounting. How the hell were there more than one? And not to mention the swarm of Marines flooding the area, all trying—and failing—to get anywhere near the Straw Hats.

“Oi! Dads!” Luffy yelled, waving enthusiastically at them with one hand while casually punching one of the Kumas with the other, clearly thrilled to see them despite being in the middle of a fight.

Before Archer or Rosinante could respond, a loud crack echoed through the chaos.

Archer felt it before he saw it—a sharp burn on his upper arm. Shot! He glanced down, spotting a graze that had torn through his sleeve, blood welling up. Oh, now it was on. His golden eyes flashed with fury as he turned, ready to tear the shooter apart. But before he could even lift a finger, Nugget swooped down from the sky with a fierce screech, talons outstretched. The bird raked its claws across the shooter's face, sending him screaming to the ground.

"Good bird!" Archer shouted, a savage grin crossing his face. Timble wasn’t far behind, darting in to finish the job with a well-placed strike. The shooter didn’t stand a chance. “More strawberries for you later!” Archer called up to the sky, knowing Nugget had earned them.

But now, there was no holding back. With a low growl rumbling in his throat, Archer shifted into his hybrid form—half-man, half-bear, and all rage. He let out a deafening roar that echoed through the battlefield, drawing the attention of anyone nearby.

“Let’s tear these bastards apart!” Archer bellowed.

With that, the Roaring Pirates charged into the fray alongside the Straw Hats, a whirlwind of fists, claws, and chaos. Rosinante, ducked and weaved through the combat, his long legs giving him the agility of a man half his size as he cut down Marines with precision. Archer barreled through his opponents, each swipe of his claws sending enemies flying.

“Dad! Papa! You guys gonna keep up?” Ace yelled, laughing as he sent a wave of fire crashing into a group of Marines, lighting up the street like a bonfire.

“Oh, you bet your ass we are!” Archer roared back, tearing through another Kuma with a vicious swipe.

Luffy, still grinning ear to ear, seemed to be having the time of his life as he pummeled his opponents. “This is so much fun!” he shouted, throwing a Gum-Gum Bazooka into one of the Kumas, sending it flying.

The battlefield was absolute mayhem. Straw Hats and Roaring Pirates, side by side, fighting back-to-back against the overwhelming force of Marines and the multiple Kuma clones. But Archer was in his element—teeth bared, claws slicing through armor, all while the roar of battle surged around him.

Rosi appeared at his side, grinning through the fight, his own pace as lethal as ever. “Still think I’ve got stamina?” he called out, ducking under a Marine’s sword and taking the man out with a swift elbow to the jaw.

Archer barked out a laugh. “I dunno, you might’ve slowed down a bit, old man!”

Rosinante shot him a mock glare before returning to the fight, his long coat billowing out behind him as he spun to avoid a strike.

Together, they fought, a seamless pair amidst the chaos of battle, determined to get through this mess and maybe—just maybe—laugh about it later.

The sight of the endless sea of Marines descending upon them was overwhelming, but Archer had one thing on his mind. “Luffy! Get your crew to the ship! We’ll take care of the rest!” he shouted over the din of battle, his voice booming with urgency.

Luffy nodded, determination sparking in his eyes. “Got it! Let’s go, guys!” He motioned for his crew, and they began to rally together, moving towards the Thousand Sunny.

But before they could escape, Ace grabbed Sanji, pulling him in close. In a shocking move, he leaned in and kissed him goodbye. The entire Straw Hat crew froze in surprise, eyes wide as Sanji reciprocated the kiss with equal fervor.

“What the hell?!” Usopp exclaimed, his jaw dropping as he witnessed the unexpected display of affection.

Just as Luffy and the rest of the crew were about to make a run for it, Archer’s gaze caught something peculiar in the chaos. A skeleton. The tall figure was exactly as bizarre as he had heard, and his mouth fell open in disbelief. “Wait, you’re real?!” he yelled out, pointing.

The skeleton turned, his jaw clattering as he grinned wide. “Yes, I’m real! And I can confirm—I poop!” he shouted back cheerfully.

Archer looked at Rosinante, eyes wide with astonishment, wearing an expression that said, I told you so. Rosi rolled his eyes but couldn’t suppress a smile.

They finished off the remaining Marines, a chaotic mix of fists and fury, until they finally sprinted towards the Silence. There, they found Giles, who looked utterly lost for words amidst the fray.

“Giles! You good?” Archer called, keeping an eye on the sea.

“I—uh—yes! Just trying to process everything!” Giles stammered, staring at the remnants of the battle.

They barely managed to catch a glimpse of the Thousand Sunny as it slipped beneath the waves, three Marine ships hot on its trail. Archer’s heart sank; they couldn’t let Luffy’s crew face that alone.

“Let’s go!” Archer yelled, nodding at Giles. They took off in pursuit of the Marines, only to run headfirst into a stunning ship adorned with intricate carvings and sails that flared like a regal flag.

“Hancock!” Rosinante shouted, recognizing the infamous pirate queen as she stood confidently at the bow of her ship, flanked by her crew, an air of superiority emanating from her.

Archer felt a mix of annoyance and wariness as he approached. “What’s the meaning of this, Hancock?”

Hancock stood proudly at the bow of her ship, “I’m just here to say goodbye to my Luffy!” she gushed, a rosy blush creeping across her cheeks.

Archer leaned over to Rosinante, a smirk playing on his lips. “I knew she had a crush on our youngest. She’s an even worse cradle robber than you are!”

Rosi snorted, trying to suppress his laughter. “Hey, at least I was not all gush, gush, blush like she is!”

Before they could exchange more teasing banter, Ace, still standing near the front, couldn’t hold back. “You know, Hancock, you’d have more luck with Luffy if you were a fucking ham!” he shouted, a wicked grin spreading across his face.

Rosinante’s eyes widened in shock before he swiftly smacked Ace upside the head. “What the hell, Ace?!” he scolded, half amused, half exasperated.

Archer couldn’t contain his laughter, his belly shaking with mirth. “If that doesn’t win the award for worst romantic advice, I don’t know what does!”

Hancock, now thoroughly insulted, narrowed her eyes. “I’ll have you know I’m more than just a pretty face!” she snapped, her cheeks still tinted pink, but now with irritation.

Without another word, she turned her ship around, sails catching the wind, and sailed away, leaving the three Marine ships to face the wrath of the Roaring Pirates.

Archer watched her go, then looked back at the approaching ships. “Well, that was entertaining. Let’s take care of these guys, shall we?”

Nodding in agreement, Ace stepped forward, raising his hands to summon a massive fireball. “You got it!” He unleashed a powerful blast, engulfing the nearest Marine ship in flames. The inferno roared as it consumed the vessel, turning it to cinders before their eyes.

After finishing off the remaining Marine ships, the crew finally managed to calm Giles down. The poor guy was still in shock, but Archer couldn’t really blame him. With all the chaos, it was easy to forget how dangerous their life could be. They set off toward Punk Hazard, the air thick with anticipation and the salty scent of the sea.

Later, down in their cabin, Archer sat on the bed, focused on sewing up the gunshot wound from earlier. He winced a bit as the needle pierced through the skin, but he was determined to handle it himself. Just as he tied off the last stitch, Rosinante walked in, a bemused expression on his face.

“What are you doing, Archer? We have a doctor on board, you know.” Rosi shook his head, his tone a mix of disbelief and concern.

Archer shrugged, a playful smile creeping across his lips. “Yeah, but this way I can say I did it myself! Besides, I like a little hands-on experience.”

Rosinante rolled his eyes but couldn’t help the smile that tugged at the corners of his mouth. “You’re ridiculous. You’re going to end up giving yourself an infection or something.”

“Or I’ll be a sewing master!” Archer shot back with a grin, earning an affectionate shake of the head from Rosi.

Once he was done with his makeshift patch job, Archer crawled into Rosinante’s lap, feeling the warmth radiate from him. “Okay, now that I’m all patched up, how about a reward for my hard work?” he murmured, looking up at Rosi with a teasing glint in his eye.

Without waiting for an answer, Archer leaned in and kissed him deeply, pouring all the affection he felt into that moment. It was a soft, lingering kiss, full of everything they had been through and everything still to come. Rosi responded immediately, his hands finding their way to Archer's waist, pulling him closer.

“You’re impossible, you know that?” Rosi murmured against Archer's lips when they finally pulled away, his eyes sparkling with warmth.

“And you love me for it,” Archer replied, a playful smile spreading across his face.

“That I do,” Rosinante said, chuckling softly. “But maybe next time, let’s leave the sewing to the doctor.”

“Deal, but only if you keep giving me cuddles like this,” Archer said, snuggling against him contentedly.

Rosinante chuckled again, wrapping his arms around Archer, holding him tight as they shared the quiet moment, the madness of the day slowly fading away.

Ace to Law, when Archer starts to rant

Chapter Text

The crew of the Silence was gathered around the large table in the galley, the clinking of glasses and the occasional soft hum of conversation filling the air as they discussed their next move. The destination was Punk Hazard, a place Archer knew nothing about—except for a few crucial details. Their oldest brat, Law, had a plan. That was good. The fact that Law’s plan involved Archers psychopathic, roach-of-a-brother-in-law, Doflamingo, was not so good.

"So... Punk Hazard, huh?" Archer muttered, leaning back in his chair with his arms crossed, eyeing the map that lay spread out before them. He glanced over at Law, who was sitting across the table, his usual unreadable expression plastered across his face. "​Care to tell your old man exactly what you’re getting us into? Because from where I’m sitting, it sounds like we’re walking into some real shit.”

Law sighed, his hand absentmindedly tapping his sword’s hilt as he spoke. “I sent my crew ahead to Dressrosa to prepare for the next stage of the plan. As for Punk Hazard, it’s where we make our move on Caesar Clown—one of Doflamingo’s key pawns. He’s running experiments, weapons production, and... other things I’d rather not get into.” His eyes narrowed. “Doflamingo has to be stopped. And to do that, we need Caesar.”

“So, the Roaring Pirates are supposed to... what?” Archer raised an eyebrow, half-amused but also irritated at the idea of Law getting in too deep.

Rosinante, seated beside Archer, rubbed his temples before glancing up at Law, his gaze softening. “Law... what exactly is our role here? We can’t just charge in half-cocked. You know what Doflamingo is capable of better than anyone.”

Law leaned forward, his voice lowering. “Caesar controls a lot of dangerous projects—chemical weapons, experiments on children, artificial Devil Fruits. Taking him down cripples Doflamingo’s empire. I need you guys to help keep the grunts off my back while I handle Caesar. And... if we’re lucky, we’ll draw out Doflamingo himself.”

Archer’s eyes narrowed as he listened. “Lucky, huh? You think we’re lucky if Doflamingo shows his face?” He let out a snort. “I’ll tell you this right now, brat—if that cockroach shows up, I’ll make sure he doesn’t leave in one piece. Again.”

Rosinante glanced at Archer, his lips pulling into a thin line. "​Doflamingo’s not someone to take lightly, Arch."

"​I’m not taking him lightly. I’m taking him apart. There’s a difference." Archer grinned, though there was a dangerous gleam in his eyes. “​Besides, I owe him. And I intend to collect.”

Law looked between them, his usual cold demeanor softening for just a moment. "​I know you’re eager to settle old scores dad, but this needs precision, not brute force."

“​Brute force worked pretty damn well the last time I ran into your dear uncle, didn’t it?” Archer shot back, though his tone was more teasing than aggressive. “But fine, you’re the mastermind. We’ll play this your way. Just tell us when and where.”

Raya, who had been quietly sipping her drink, finally spoke up, her voice dry and amused. “So basically, we’re the bouncers, huh? Protecting the genius while he pulls off his masterstroke?”

Law smirked. “More or less.”

Law leaned forward, his sharp eyes scanning the faces around the table, laying out his plan with precision. "Alright, here’s how this goes down." He glanced at Timble first. “Timble, you’re with me. I need you to destroy some of Caesar’s machines and gather any documents you can find on his research. We’ll need evidence to cripple him after we take him down. You’ll stay hidden under my hat until the coast is clear.”

Timble’s eyes lit up with excitement as he nodded eagerly. “Got it, Captain!”

Law turned to Gin next, his cold, calculating gaze fixing on him. “Gin, you’re going to pose as my bodyguard. You’re not as well-known as the rest of the Roaring Pirates, so there’s less chance of you being recognized. Play it cool and stay close.”

Gin gave a curt nod, his expression unreadable but serious. “Understood.”

Archer, arms crossed, listened closely, a rare look of focus on his face. Law’s eyes shifted to him, Ace, and Raya. “The rest of you—Dad, Ace, Raya, you’ll handle the infiltration. Your job is to eliminate any of Caesar’s loyal followers. We need his operation crippled from the inside before we make our move on him. No witnesses, no survivors.”

Ace smirked, leaning back in his chair. “Sounds like our kind of mission.”

Raya grinned, cracking her knuckles. “Finally, some action.”

Archer’s eyes gleamed, the fire in them undeniable. “Consider it done. Caesar’s loyal dogs won’t know what hit ’em.”

Finally, Law’s gaze turned to Rosinante and Giles. “You two will stay hidden outside. I need you both on lookout for Marines or Doflamingo’s men. If either show up, sound the alarm. We can’t afford to be caught off guard.”

Rosinante nodded, his expression stoic but his eyes betraying a hint of concern. “We’ll keep watch. If Doflamingo shows up… we’ll be ready.”

Archer glanced at Rosinante, catching that familiar glimmer of worry in his eyes. He knew Rosi was always thinking ahead, always worrying about the worst-case scenario. Archer reached out and patted Rosinante’s shoulder, his tone light but reassuring. "Don’t worry, love. If that cockroach crawls out of his hole, I’ll squash him myself. You just keep those Marines off our backs.”

Rosinante chuckled softly, shaking his head but squeezing Archer’s hand in return. “Just... don’t do anything too reckless.”

Archer smirked, his golden eyes flashing with mischief. “No promises.”

Law, sensing the plan was locked in, stood up. “We move in at dawn. Be ready.”

The crew of the Silence all nodded in unison, their collective energy buzzing with anticipation. They knew this mission was high stakes, but for them, that was just another day at sea.

As they began to rise from the table, Archer leaned in toward Ace, his voice low. “So, how many heads do you think we’ll be cracking before the night’s out?”

Ace grinned, stretching his arms above his head. “More than we can count, old man.”

Archer laughed, the sound carrying across the galley. "Now that’s what I like to hear."

Ace turned toward Law, eyebrows raised in curiosity. "So, what exactly do we know about this Punk Hazard place? I mean, what kind of hellhole are we walking into?"

Law leaned back in his chair, his calm demeanor unwavering, but there was a dark gleam in his eyes as he began to explain. "Punk Hazard is… complicated. The island’s a product of chaos. It used to be a government facility, but it’s been abandoned for months after a battle between two of the most powerful Marine Admirals—Kuzan and Akainu. That fight changed everything."

Archer narrowed his eyes. "Kuzan… that’s Aokiji, right? The ice man?"

Law nodded. "Yeah, Kuzan’s Aokiji. After defecting from the Marines, he fought Akainu. Their battle was so intense that it left Punk Hazard split in two. One half is scorched by Akainu’s magma, a literal wasteland of molten rock and volcanic activity. The other half is frozen solid by Kuzan’s ice, a desolate tundra."

Ace whistled low. "So, half fire, half ice. Guess I’ll feel right at home."

The next morning, the crew was busy preparing for the mission. Raya, ever the tactical mind, had dubbed their outfits the "stealth uniforms"—a mix of dark, form-fitting clothing that allowed for flexibility and camouflage. As they suited up, Archer was having a small battle of his own.

“Alright, Archer,” Raya said, hands on her hips, “your hair’s too long. It’s gonna get in your way. Up in a bun. Now.”

Archer groaned, tugging at his long, blond hair as if he were mourning the freedom of it. “A bun? Really? I look ridiculous with a bun.”

Raya rolled her eyes, not about to take any of his protests. "You want it in your face while you're trying to stab people? Didn't think so. You’re not cutting it yourself though—unless you want me to do it for you when we get back?"

Before Archer could even open his mouth, Rosinante practically yelped, "NO!"

Raya froze, a slow, wicked smirk creeping across her face as she turned toward him. "Oh?" Her voice dripped with amusement. "What's this? A little possessiveness over the golden locks?"

Law, who had been calmly adjusting his own uniform, glanced up sharply at his pap’s outburst. Ace, on the other side of the room, immediately began shaking his head with a panicked expression.

“Raya, don’t,” Law said, his voice firm as he stood up straight, looking from Rosinante to Archer with a mix of exhaustion and amusement. “You don’t want to know.”

Ace snorted, crossing his arms. “Yeah, trust us. Do not ask why Papa doesn’t want Dad cutting his hair.”

Raya arched an eyebrow, clearly intrigued but also enjoying their discomfort. She glanced at Archer, who was still scowling at the thought of a bun, and then back at Rosinante, who was now very pointedly looking anywhere but at her.

“Oh, come on,” she teased, “it can’t be that bad.”

Rosinante let out a nervous chuckle, waving his hand dismissively. “It’s nothing, really! Just… I like his hair the way it is.”

Archer, suddenly feeling mischievous, grinned and pulled his hair into a quick, messy bun. “Yeah, Rosi likes my hair just fine,” he said, throwing his partner a cheeky wink. “Likes to—”

“Archer!” Rosinante cut him off, face turning a deep shade of red as he shot his partner a look that was both warning and pleading.

Raya’s smirk only widened as she pieced it together. “Ohhh, I see what’s going on here,” she said with a laugh, shaking her head. “That explains it.”

Ace groaned, throwing his head back. “Can we not do this right before a mission? Please?”

Law just sighed, clearly used to this by now. “Let’s just focus on not getting killed first, then we can talk about your bizarre love life later.”

Archer shot them all a playful look, shrugging as he secured his bun. "Fine, fine. But I’m keeping the hair."

Rosinante, relieved, smiled at him warmly. "Good." He quickly muttered under his breath, “And no one’s cutting it.”

Raya, still amused, shook her head. “Alright, let’s get moving before this turns into a therapy session for your poor kids.”

Everything was going according to plan—at first. Law and Timble, now expertly concealed under Law’s hat, had slipped inside without a hitch. Rosinante, with Nugget perched confidently on his head, and Giles had found their hiding spots, ready to keep an eye out for any unwanted company. Archer, Raya, and Ace took to the air ducts like shadows, moving silently through the maze of metal.

"Okay, easy now," Raya whispered as she led the way, eyes scanning for their targets. They had their mission: slip in, eliminate Caesar's loyalists, and get out before things got messy. Standard stuff. And, as far as Archer was concerned, things were going just fine—right up until they weren’t.

The duct suddenly opened up into a large room. Archer, Ace, and Raya dropped down, landing softly on the cold floor. But instead of the cold-blooded killers they were expecting, they were met with… kids. Giant ones. Normal-sized ones. All scattered around, some playing, others looking sickly, and a few sitting in silence.

Archer blinked, his mind scrambling to make sense of what he was seeing. "Uh… what the actual hell?"

Ace crouched down beside him, eyes wide. “Why are there kids here? What is this place?”

Raya straightened up, scanning the room with her hand on the hilt of her blade. "This doesn't look like any kind of lab. And why are some of them… so big?"

Archer's instincts kicked in. Something was off, way off. "This is some messed up shit," he muttered, crouching next to one of the kids, who looked up at him with wide, innocent eyes. “What’re you doing here, kid?”

Before the boy could answer, the sound of smashing walls echoed through the room. Dust and debris flew everywhere as part of the wall exploded inward, and suddenly, four familiar faces came crashing into the room—literally.

Nami, Franky, Chopper, and Sanji burst in, looking as surprised to see Archer and the others as they were to see them.

"Archer?!" Nami yelled, dusting herself off, eyes wide. "What are you doing here?"

Archer, still trying to wrap his head around the kids, looked at the destruction and then back at her, deadpan. "What am I doing here? What the hell are you doing smashing walls like a damn wrecking ball?"

Sanji, ever the smooth one, straightened his tie and gave a nonchalant shrug. “We were just… you know, taking a shortcut.”

Franky pumped his arms and did his signature pose. “Super shortcut!”

Chopper, in his tiny form, ran toward the kids, eyes wide in concern. “These kids! They’re sick!”

Archer blinked again, taking it all in. “Sick? What’s going on here? We came to take out some of Caesar’s men, not babysit.”

Nami rubbed her temples in frustration. “It’s more than that, Archer. These kids… they’ve been experimented on by Caesar. He’s been using them for his twisted experiments.”

Raya looked around, her gaze hardening. “So Caesar’s not just insane—he’s a full-blown monster.”

Ace stepped forward, looking at his dad with fire in his eyes. “We’re not leaving these kids behind, are we?”

Archer sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Of course not. But this complicates things. A lot."

Chaos. Pure, unfiltered chaos. That was the only way Archer could describe the scene around him. Ace was already rushing toward Sanji, arms outstretched, and before anyone could blink, Ace had Sanji in a tight hug, followed by a full-on kiss. Sanji, a bit red in the face but not resisting, kissed him back while the rest of the Straw Hats either ignored it or rolled their eyes.

Archer, however, had bigger things to worry about. He turned to Nami, rubbing his temple. "Please tell me Law and Rosinante know you guys are here?"

Nami gave him an apologetic smile and shook her head. "Nope. We got split up. Usopp, Luffy, Robin, and Zoro are somewhere else on the island."

Archer groaned, throwing his hands up in the air. “Of course. Of freakin’ course.”

And as if the situation wasn’t already ridiculous, something moved on Sanji’s hip. Archer blinked. Wait, what the hell is that? He looked closer, and then the “thing” started talking. A head. There was a disembodied head strapped to Sanji’s side.

"What. The. Actual. Fuck?" Archer muttered under his breath, his patience thinning by the second.

The head started rambling, which only added to Archer’s growing frustration. Just when I thought I’d seen it all…

Suddenly, Chopper started talking, his voice shaky but determined. “We need to protect the children!”

Archer could get behind that. He had been looking after Ace since he was eleven—hell, protecting kids was second nature at this point. But just as he was about to respond, the kids in the room all started talking at once, their voices overlapping into a deafening mess of noise. Nami, Franky, and Sanji started arguing with each other, their voices rising over the kids' chatter. The room was a madhouse.

Archer had enough. He pinched the bridge of his nose, took a deep breath, and then let out his infamous dad voice—the one that could stop Ace and Luffy dead in their tracks when they were younger.

“Alright, EVERYONE QUIET!”

The room fell into stunned silence, all eyes on Archer. Even the talking head shut up.

Archer shot a look at Nami and Chopper. “You two, get these kids out of here. Find Rosi and Giles. Get them onboard the Silence. They’ll keep the kids safe.”

Nami nodded quickly, clearly relieved to have some direction. “Got it.”

Chopper, still wide-eyed, gathered the kids together. “Let’s go, everyone! Stay close!”

Archer then turned to Franky, Ace, and Sanji, his expression hardening. “The rest of us? We’re gonna stop whoever’s after us. No more screwing around.”

Sanji cracked his knuckles, the glint of a fight in his eye. “Sounds good to me.”

Franky grinned, flexing. “SUPER ready!”

Ace was already fired up, his flames flickering as he smiled. “Let’s burn ‘em down.”

Archer nodded, determination settling in. "Alright, let's move out."

With Nami and Chopper leading the kids out to safety, Archer led the others to the door. They’d bought some time, but it wouldn’t last long. Caesar’s loyalists—or worse, Marines—would be on their heels soon enough.

Nothing ever went according to plan. Why was Archer even surprised anymore?

After fighting off a bunch of freaks with animal legs—seriously, what kind of twisted island was this?—Archer thought things might calm down. But no. Of course, they couldn’t just catch a break. The talking head strapped to Sanji started rambling again, this time about looking for his son who had been kidnapped. And apparently, Law was responsible for splitting his body up. Great, Archer thought, rolling his eyes. Just what I need. My own kid pulling stupid stunts.

Just when Archer thought it couldn't get more ridiculous, things took a nosedive into absurdity. Because, of course, the fucking G-5 Marines showed up, led by none other than that guy—the asshole from Loguetown. Archer groaned internally. Just my luck.

To top it all off, somewhere in the chaos, he, Ace, and Raya got separated from Sanji and Franky. Perfect. Absolutely perfect.

But then they spotted Law. Archer narrowed his eyes, watching the scene unfold. Law looked absolutely furious, yelling at Luffy, who—unsurprisingly—was hugging him like there was no tomorrow. Rosinante was in the middle of it, of course, yelling at Law, clearly adding fuel to the fire. Great. More family drama.

Ace spotted Sanji—or at least, Archer thought it was Sanji—and ran over to him, pulling him into a tight hug. Archer sighed. At least that part of the plan hadn’t changed. He was about to follow Ace when he noticed something weird.

Sanji—or rather, not Sanji—had a very un-Sanji-like expression. When Archer heard the voice that came out of Sanji’s mouth, he blinked. It was... Nami?

“What the hell?” Archer muttered.

Apparently, Nami was in Sanji’s body, and Sanji was in Nami’s. Archer threw his hands up in the air, completely done with everything. “Of course! Why not? Let’s just throw body-swapping into the mix while we’re at it. What’s next? Dogs walking on two legs?”

Raya snorted beside him, trying to suppress her laughter. “You have to admit, it’s kind of hilarious.”

Archer shot her a look. “I’m glad one of us finds this entertaining.”

As chaos swirled around them—Luffy still hugging Law, Rosinante yelling, and Ace thoroughly confused about who he was kissing—Archer rubbed his temples. “Why do I feel like this is going to get worse before it gets better?”

Raya patted him on the shoulder. “Probably because it will.”

Archer sighed. “Let’s just find the others before someone else happen.”

Archer stomped over, hands on his hips, his bun coming loose from all the chaos, and absolutely mad as hell. He glared down at Law, Luffy, and Rosinante, who were still arguing in their little storm of drama. His voice, sharp and loud, cut through the noise.

"What the fuck is going on, and why the hell is everyone body-swapping?"

Law’s face twitched, obviously on edge. “My brat of a little brother and his idiot crew ruined the plan,” Law muttered, shooting daggers at Luffy, who was now grinning like it was just another sunny day. “And the damn G-5 Marines followed the Straw Hats here. They’ve completely blown our cover.”

Archer's eyes flickered with anger as he stared Law down. He jabbed a finger at him, his patience long gone. “You need to fix this body-swapping shit right now, Law. Right now.”

But, of course, before anything could get done, the grey-haired asshole—the G-5 captain—started yelling again, calling Archer a criminal, spewing the same old "pirate scum" nonsense like it was some divine revelation. Archer turned towards him, deadpan, arms crossed over his chest.

“So fucking what? My whole family’s pirates. That’s kind of the point.”

The G-5 captain—Smoker, if Archer remembered right—looked like he was about to explode, smoke literally billowing from his body. Before the situation could spiral further, the black-haired woman beside him—Tashigi, right?—looked ready to attack Archer, her hand gripping the hilt of her sword.

But before she could draw her blade, Nugget, always the good bird, swooped down from above with a screech. In one swift motion, the bird plucked Tashigi’s glasses right off her face, flying off with them like a shiny prize.

Tashigi blinked, momentarily stunned. Smoker growled, about to bark orders, but Archer just smirked, giving Nugget an approving nod.

Rosinante could see the storm brewing in Archer’s eyes, and he knew they were just one wrong word away from an explosion. So, he quickly took charge, barking out orders to split everyone into groups.

“Okay, we need to regroup! Ace, take Nami and find the kids! Franky, you and Sanji—uh, wait, Sanji, are you still in Nami’s body?”

Archer was still shouting at Law, his voice echoing through the chaos. “Change Sanji and Nami back! Right now! What the hell did you do to them?”

Ace looked utterly lost, his brow furrowed in confusion as he tried to piece together what was happening. “Can someone just explain this body-swapping crap? Because I’m so freaking lost right now!”

But before they could finish organizing, a thick cloud of gas rolled toward them, filling the air with a noxious stench. Everyone instinctively covered their noses, the urgency of the moment forcing them to split and run in different directions.

“Oh, great!” Archer shouted, throwing his hands up in frustration as he stumbled backward.

It was just his fucking luck that he ended up with Law, Luffy, Smoker, and Tashigi. The odds were stacked against him.

“Can’t believe I’m stuck with you idiots,” Archer muttered under his breath, glancing sideways at Law, who looked equally annoyed.

“I’m not the one who’s been shouting the loudest dad!” Law shot back, the corner of his mouth twitching up into a smirk.

“Can you focus for one second?” Smoker interjected, scowling. “We need to get out of here before that gas does more than just make us cough.”

Tashigi, who had finally recovered her glasses from Nugget—who was now perched on Archer’s shoulder, fluffing his feathers—nodded in agreement.

Archer rolled his eyes but knew they had no other choice. “Fine! But Law! I still expect you to fix this body-swapping crap as soon as we’re safe!”

Luffy, oblivious to the tension, grinned widely. “Let’s go! This is going to be an adventure!”

Archer took a deep breath, shaking his head as he followed the group. “Yeah, sure. Because we don’t have enough of those already.”

With that, they took off, moving through the haze and chaos, the urgency of their situation finally sinking in.

Chapter Text

Archer sprinted through the chaos, lungs burning from the gas and adrenaline pumping through his veins. They had been running for what felt like hours, dodging traps, bird-women (thanks to Zoro’s wonderful sense of direction), and cutting down freaks left and right. But what really pissed him off was not the fights, not even the cages they got stuck in. It was seeing the kids—the suffering etched on their faces, the horrors Caesar had inflicted on them. That was the final straw.

Luffy, with that relentless spirit of his, had handled Caesar, as expected. The brat never knew when to stop, and thank god for that. With an astonishing display of power, Luffy knocked Caesar out cold. Archer almost felt a moment of relief, but it was short-lived.

They had barely caught their breath when they were forced to run again, more gas spreading through the facility like a wildfire. Archer, Zoro, Ace, and Tashigi had teamed up to escape, slicing through whatever abominations crossed their path. They could hear the sounds of their allies in the distance, everyone fending off the mess this godforsaken island had turned into.

And then it happened. Just as they sprinted away from another gas cloud, Tashigi opened her mouth and spewed some sexist crap that made Archer’s blood boil.

“I can handle myself, you know!” she snapped, clearly pissed that Zoro had slung her over his shoulder like a sack of rice. “Just because I’m a woman doesn’t mean I need saving every damn time!”

Zoro, without missing a beat, grunted, “It’s not ‘cause you’re a woman. It’s because you were moving too slow.”

Archer clenched his fists, fighting the urge to explode right there and then. As they reached the others, dodging another burst of gas, Archer grabbed Tashigi’s arm and yanked her toward him. With a sharp twist, he turned her head toward Raya.

“Look at her!” Archer bellowed, voice sharp and commanding. Raya, busy slitting throats and taking down freaks like she was born to kill, grinned wickedly as she dispatched another enemy with ease.

“See her? That’s Raya,” Archer continued, his voice cutting through the chaos like a blade. “She’s got tits, yeah, but that hasn’t stopped her from gutting every bastard that crosses her path. Her gender doesn’t hold her back, and it sure as hell doesn’t stop her from getting the job done!”

Tashigi blinked in surprise, caught off-guard by Archer’s tirade.

“The only thing holding you back,” Archer growled, “is that attitude of yours. You think we don’t trust you ‘cause you’re a woman? No. We don’t trust you ‘cause you are a fucking marine. Tits or no tits.”

Behind him, Ace leaned toward Law and whispered, “That’s a solid dad rant if I’ve ever heard one.”

Law, arms crossed and a faint smirk on his lips, nodded. “Impressive.”

Tashigi opened her mouth to respond, but before she could say anything, Archer turned back to the chaos unfolding around them.

“Now stop bitching and fight!” he barked before leaping back into the fray, blades flashing as he cut down another enemy.

Raya, cackling like a maniac, danced past him, slicing through her opponents with deadly precision. “That’s what I’m talking about, Captain!”

Archer smirked, the rush of battle surging through him. “Don’t fall behind, Raya!”

As the dust settled and the last of Caesar’s freakish creations fell, the battlefield echoed with the sound of panting breaths and clashing steel. The Roaring Pirates, Straw Hats, and G-5 Marines had cut down every last abomination standing in their way. Archer stood in the midst of the chaos, wiping blood off his claws, eyes blazing as he surveyed the destruction around them. It had been a brutal battle, but they had survived—barely.

Law, ever the cool and calculated strategist, turned toward his brother Ace, eyes sharp and focused. “Ace,” he said, his voice calm but with an edge of finality, “blow the facility to pieces.”

Ace, his hands already sparking with the heat of his devil fruit powers, grinned wickedly. “With pleasure.”

Archer stepped back, knowing what was about to happen, and made sure his crew and the others were at a safe distance. The intensity in Ace's eyes was familiar—this was the same boy Archer had protected and raised, but now he was a force of nature. Archer couldn’t help but feel a swell of pride as Ace prepared to unleash his full power.

With a single motion, Ace thrust his hands forward, flames erupting from his body with a fierce roar. The heat was overwhelming, a storm of fire swirling and crackling as it consumed everything in its path. The flames raced toward the facility, hungry and wild, and within moments, the entire structure was engulfed in a fiery inferno.

The explosion that followed was deafening. The ground shook beneath their feet as the firestorm erupted, sending debris and flames soaring into the sky. A massive plume of smoke billowed upward, darkening the horizon as the facility crumbled to ashes.

Archer shielded his eyes from the heat, watching as the flames devoured everything in their wake. The sheer destructive force of Ace’s power was awe-inspiring. Law stood beside him, his expression unreadable, though Archer could tell that even he was impressed.

“Not bad, little brother,” Law muttered, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

Ace chuckled, flexing his hands as the last of the flames flickered out. “Told you I’d take care of it.”

As the smoke began to clear, Archer lowered his hand, his gaze fixed on the smoldering remains of the facility. The place was gone—nothing but ruins and ash remained. But with it, so were the horrors that had been inflicted on the children, the twisted experiments, and Caesar’s reign of terror.

Archer exhaled, finally feeling a sense of closure. They had won.

“Good riddance,” he muttered under his breath.

Rosinante walked over, Nugget perched proudly on his head, as calm as ever despite the carnage. He looked at Archer with a crooked grin. “So, what now?”

Archer snorted, brushing the ash off his jacket. “We get the hell out of here before something else blows up.”

Behind them, the G-5 Marines and the Straw Hats regrouped, battered but victorious. Even Smoker, begrudgingly, seemed to acknowledge that they had come out on top today. Zoro was already slumped against a wall, arms crossed as he muttered something about wanting to fight again. Sanji, now back in his own body, was lighting a cigarette with a shaky hand, clearly still annoyed by the whole body-swapping ordeal.

Tashigi, meanwhile, stood in silence, staring at the burning wreckage with a distant look in her eyes. Archer caught her gaze, and for a brief moment, there was something almost…respectful in the way she looked at him.

But Archer wasn’t one for sentiment. He rolled his shoulders, already itching to get back to the Siilence and away from this damned island. Turning to his crew, he gave a sharp nod.

Just as Archer was about to turn on his heel and lead everyone back to the ships, the familiar loud voice of Luffy boomed across the battlefield.

“I want a party!” Luffy yelled, grinning ear to ear like an excited kid.

Archer groaned internally. Of course the brat would want to celebrate right after they blew up a freakish science facility and nearly died. He shot a look at Law, expecting him to be the voice of reason.

“No,” Law snapped, arms crossed tightly over his chest. “We’re not having a party—”

But before Law could even finish, Luffy’s excitement had already infected the Straw Hats. Franky and Usopp were high-fiving, Chopper was bouncing around, and even Zoro had that lazy, approving grin on his face.

“Dammit,” Law muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration.

Archer smirked.

Just as the thought of another chaotic party started sinking in, the air around them shifted. A sudden wind gusted through, and Archer’s instincts flared. Something was off.

Before he could say anything, two figures descended from the sky with the sound of whirling blades—a bizarre man with a helicopter-like propeller sticking out of his head and a woman with an arsenal of weapons strapped to her body. Archer blinked, utterly confused.

Law’s and Rosinante’s expressions darkened immediately.

“Buffalo,” Law growled under his breath, his fists clenching at his sides.

“And Baby 5,” Rosi muttered, his voice tight with tension.

Buffalo, the propeller-headed guy, sneered at Law and Rosinante, the blades on his head spinning as he hovered slightly above the ground. “Well, well, well,” Buffalo drawled, his voice oozing arrogance. “Look who we have here. The traitor and the runaway brat.”

Archer raised an eyebrow, glancing at Rosinante.

Baby 5, the heavily armed woman, aimed one of her bazookas directly at Rosinante, her expression fierce. “You think we forgot? You betrayed the family! You saved Law, didn’t you? All these years, hiding like a coward!”

Rosinante’s face remained neutral, but Archer could sense the tension radiating from him. It wasn’t hard to put two and two together—these two must have worked for the cockroach Doflamingo.

Archer huffed, stepping forward with a casual deadpan. “Who the hell are these idiots?”

Buffalo’s eyes flicked to Archer, and his sneer deepened. “You must be the pet Rosinante picked up. Not that it matters. Doflamingo’s gonna—”

Before he could finish that sentence, Archer’s patience snapped.

“Listen up, helicopter boy,” Archer said, his voice low and dangerous. “I don’t give a rat’s ass who you work for, and you sure as hell don’t talk about my family like that.”

Baby 5 snarled, loading one of her weapons, but Rosinante stepped between them, raising his hand.

“Enough,” Rosinante said, his voice commanding. “I don’t owe Doflamingo anything. This ends here.”

The whole situation was already surreal, but when Law, used his abilities to split Buffalo and Baby 5 into neatly separated body parts, Archer felt his patience finally teetering on the edge.

"Of course, he did," Archer muttered under his breath, watching the dismembered—yet still very much alive—duo flop around helplessly.

Rosinante raised an eyebrow at Archer, the hint of a grin tugging at his lips. “You look a bit lost.”

“I’m not lost, you’re lost,” Archer shot back, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “Our oldest just split them up like they were goddamn puzzle pieces.”

Law, looking entirely unbothered by the spectacle he’d just created, suddenly pulled out a Den Den Mushi. The snail’s face contorted into an eerie resemblance of Doflamingo, its sunglasses flashing in the light.

Archer’s jaw clenched. What the hell is he doing now?

As the Den Den Mushi connected, Doflamingo’s mocking voice echoed out, full of venom and arrogance. “Law, you little—”

Law cut him off, his voice dripping with smug satisfaction. “I have your people. And the facility is gone.”

Silence. Then, the snail’s face contorted into rage as Doflamingo screamed, “I’ll kill you, Law!”

Unfazed, Law simply smirked and hung up, the snail slamming its shell shut with a final click. He pocketed the Den Den Mushi and turned toward the others, as calm as ever.

Archer stared at him, completely incredulous. "Did you just taunt him?"

Law shrugged, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “He deserves it.”

Before Archer could even form a proper response to that, Luffy’s voice broke through the tension like a cannonball.

“Party time!” Luffy shouted, jumping up and down, punching the air with excitement. “Sanji, get the meat!”

Law looked like he was about to protest again, but Luffy was already gone, his mind made up. Archer glanced over at Rosinante, who was just shaking his head in amusement, clearly resigned to the fact that there was no stopping Luffy.

“Well, after everything, I guess a party isn’t the worst idea,” Rosi mused with a laugh.

Archer sighed heavily, feeling the exhaustion creep into his bones after the chaotic day they’d had. “Yeah, but a party with marines, kids, our brats, and god knows what else? This is gonna be a nightmare.”

As if on cue, Sanji was already starting up the grills, a mountain of meat appearing like magic. The Straw Hats, G-5 marines, the newly freed kids, and even Law’s crew were slowly gathering around the impromptu party.

Archer rubbed his temples. “This day just keeps getting weirder.”

Ace appeared next to him, holding a plate of food, and grinned. “Weird day, great party. C’mon, let’s enjoy it.”

Rosinante laughed as he draped an arm around Archer’s shoulder. “He’s got a point, love. We survived, didn’t we? Let’s have some fun.”

Archer shook his head with a groan but couldn’t help the smile tugging at his lips. “Fine, but if anyone starts blowing shit up again, I’m out.”

As the impromptu celebration kicked off, Archer found himself sitting by the fire, watching the chaos of pirates and marines somehow finding common ground over meat and drinks. It was weird. But then again, everything about this day had been weird.

Law, off to the side, seemed content for the first time in what felt like ages. Rosinante was laughing with some of the Straw Hats, and Luffy...well, Luffy was already face-first in a mountain of food.

Archer leaned back, looking up at the stars as the noise of the party swirled around him. Yeah, maybe weird wasn’t so bad after all.

Later Archer stood at the edge of the Silence, gazing out over the still waters as the Silence sailed away from Punk Hazard. The day had been long and exhausting, but at least they were finally on their way. Law and Ace had decided to board the Thousand Sunny for a while, wanting to spend some time with Luffy and his crew. The G-5 marines were staying back a bit longer to ensure the kids were safe, leaving Archer, Rosinante, and the rest of their crew to sail alone.

He exhaled slowly, letting the cool night air clear his head. What a day. Parties, chaos, freaks, kids in cages… and now, a peaceful ocean. The stars blinked above, calm and serene, a sharp contrast to the madness they had left behind.

But something didn’t feel right.

His gut twisted with a strange unease. Archer narrowed his eyes at the horizon, leaning forward a bit to get a better look at the seemingly empty waters.

And that’s when he saw it.

Just a flicker of movement in the distance. Something—no, someone—hovering in the air, gliding closer.

Before Archer could react, something fast and sharp wrapped around his throat. He tried to gasp, but the grip tightened, cutting off his air. His hands flew up, clawing at the wire-like string wrapped around his neck, but it only dug deeper, choking him.

“Wha—?!” Archer croaked, eyes wide with shock and panic.

He was yanked forward with brutal force, his body slamming into the deck. His vision blurred as he struggled for breath, darkness creeping in from the edges of his sight. He couldn’t breathe—couldn’t think.

And then he saw it.

Pink.

The unmistakable, vivid pink feathers of a man he had only seen a few times. 

Doflamingo.

Archer’s heart thundered in his chest, but his strength was fading fast. The world tilted, spinning, as the last of his breath was squeezed out of him.

Just before everything went black, he saw the twisted grin of the man who had haunted their family for years. Doflamingo.

Archer groaned as he slowly came to, his head pounding like a drum. His hands were bound behind his back, wrists chafing against the strings holding him. His body felt heavy, his muscles sore, and as his vision cleared, he realized exactly where he was. Back on Punk Hazard.

"Yay. Shitty island," Archer muttered under his breath, trying to shake off the lingering grogginess. He was tied to a rock, surrounded by sulfurous fumes and jagged, volcanic terrain. Not exactly the place he wanted to be waking up after getting nearly strangled.

In front of him, lounging as if this were some casual tea party, sat none other than Doflamingo. The cockroach himself, dressed in his ridiculous pink feather coat and grinning down at Archer like a predator toying with its prey.

“Well, if it isn’t the man himself,” Archer rasped, rolling his shoulders as best he could in his restraints. “You’re just as ugly now as you were then. Maybe even worse up close.”

Doflamingo let out a sinister, deep-throated laugh that echoed across the desolate landscape. He crossed his legs, amused by Archer’s defiance, and leaned forward.

“I’ve long wanted to meet you in person, Portgas D. Archer,” Doflamingo sneered. “The man who took my hand, and the one who rescued my pathetic, traitorous little brother.”

Doflamingo moved with deliberate slowness, standing up and walking over to where Archer was bound. His long fingers gripped Archer’s chin, roughly forcing him to look up. Their eyes locked, and Archer could see the madness swirling behind Doflamingo’s signature glasses.

“Such fire,” Doflamingo murmured, almost like he was talking to himself. His thumb traced along Archer’s jaw, and Archer suppressed a shudder of revulsion. “I can see now what my little brother saw in you. A golden beauty with a temper. But he never deserved you, did he?”

Doflamingo's voice lowered to a dangerous whisper as he traced a finger slowly down Archer’s face. Archer’s skin crawled as the warlord continued his monologue, leaning even closer.

“Maybe I should take you for myself? Break you… make you mine.” Doflamingo’s breath was hot against Archer’s face, and the air around them felt suffocating.

But Archer, never one to be intimidated, narrowed his eyes and smirked, his temper flaring back to life. With a quick motion, he spat right in Doflamingo’s face, his saliva dripping down the warlord's twisted grin.

“Over my dead body, you twisted fuck,” Archer growled, his voice low and dripping with venom.

For a split second, Doflamingo froze. His grin faltered, and then—slowly, methodically—he wiped the spit from his face with the back of his hand. His smile returned, but it was darker now. More dangerous.

“You really are something,” Doflamingo chuckled, though there was a cruel edge to his amusement. He stood up straight, cracking his neck to one side, then the other.

Doflamingo then grabbed Archer’s hair, holding it tight, pulling him forward until their faces were mere inches apart. The warlord leaned in, his breath hot and foul against Archer’s skin. Archer’s heart raced, the hairs on the back of his neck prickling with instinctual dread.

“Let’s see how long that brave facade holds up,” Doflamingo taunted, his voice a low, sultry whisper that sent a chill down Archer’s spine. Then, without warning, he pressed his lips against Archer’s neck and dragged his tongue along the sensitive skin, leaving a trail of warmth that made Archer recoil instinctively.

But before he could fully process the horror of it, Doflamingo bit down hard. Pain shot through Archer's throat as sharp teeth broke skin, drawing blood. A gasp escaped Archer's lips, not out of pleasure but shock. Doflamingo grinned wickedly, his teeth stained red, a grotesque mask of satisfaction.

“I’ll make you beg and scream before the night is over,” Doflamingo promised, the sinister gleam in his eyes betraying a sadistic delight. “But not from pleasure—oh no, Archer. You’ll scream from pain. Pain I’m going to relish.”

Archer’s bravado faltered, an icy grip of fear wrapping around his heart. He had faced many foes, battled against overwhelming odds, but never had he felt this level of dread before. The way Doflamingo's smile widened, how he relished the blood he had drawn—it all seeped into Archer's bones, clawing at the edges of his defiance.

Yet, even in that moment of vulnerability, something ignited within him. Archer fought against the strings binding him, his eyes narrowing as he glared defiantly at Doflamingo. He could feel the warm blood trickling down his neck, but he refused to give in to the fear that threatened to swallow him whole.

“You’re a monster, Doflamingo,” Archer spat, his voice shaky but fierce. “You think you can break me? You’re dead wrong. I’ve faced worse than you, and I’m still standing. I won’t scream for you.”

Doflamingo laughed, the sound echoing ominously in the air, the promise of suffering laced in his tone. “Oh, but you will. Just wait. This will be the most fun I’ve had in a long time.” He released Archer’s hair, stepping back to survey his handiwork, taking delight in the blood staining Archer's skin.

Doflamingo's grin widened, a predatory gleam in his eyes as he stepped closer, invading Archer's personal space once more. “You have no idea how much pleasure I’m going to derive from this,” he taunted, leaning in. “I’ll ruin you so thoroughly that Rosinante will never want to touch you again. You’ll be nothing but a broken shell, discarded and forgotten.”

Archer felt rage surging within him, fighting against the strings binding him, the weight of Doflamingo's words pressing down on his chest like a heavy stone. “You think you can scare me?” Archer shot back, his voice hoarse but resolute. “You’re a fool if you believe I’d let you do that.”

But Doflamingo only laughed, the sound deep and sinister. “Oh, you’ll scream, Archer. And I can’t wait to see the look on dear Rosinante’s face when he realizes what I’ve turned you into.”

Before Archer could respond, Doflamingo’s hand shot out, gripping his throat with a vice-like hold. He leaned in, the world narrowing to just the two of them, as Doflamingo’s breath brushed against Archer’s skin. The warlord’s tongue flicked out, probing at Archer’s lips before he forced his way inside, pushing his tongue down Archer’s throat.

Archer recoiled instinctively, nausea rising in his throat. In a surge of adrenaline and defiance, he bit down hard, teeth clamping down with all the strength he could muster. Doflamingo's eyes widened in shock, the taste of blood mingling with the sharp tang of fear in the air as Archer's jaw locked around the warlord’s tongue.

“Ahh!” Doflamingo gasped, pulling back slightly, his grip loosening as he released a surprised yelp of pain. Archer seized the moment, pushing against Doflamingo, trying to free himself from the rock. But Doflamingo quickly recovered, rage flooding his features.

“YOU DARE?” he bellowed, eyes blazing with fury as he wiped the blood from his mouth with a smirk. “You’ll pay for that!”

Doflamingo's expression twisted, and in that moment, Archer saw the true monster lurking beneath the surface. He could feel the energy shifting, the darkness gathering around them like a storm ready to unleash its fury.

But Archer was not afraid. If anything, he felt a fierce resolve building inside him. He was not going to let Doflamingo win. “I’ll never be yours,” he shouted defiantly, meeting Doflamingo's gaze with unyielding strength.

Doflamingo paused, a flicker of something unreadable crossing his face before it vanished behind that familiar, predatory grin. “We’ll see about that. The more you resist, the more fun this will be for me.”

Doflamingo yanked Archer away from the rock and Archer hit the ground hard, the impact knocking the breath from his lungs. Pain shot through his body as he struggled to push himself up, but Doflamingo’s shadow loomed larger, his predatory grin widening as he ripped the fabric of Archer's shirt apart, exposing his chest to the cold air. Archer felt a wave of dread wash over him. Shit, fuck, shit! Where the hell was everyone?

Doflamingo traced a finger over Archer’s chest, his voice dripping with mockery. “You’re so pretty, you know. Too pretty for someone like Rosinante. I think I’ll have to keep you for myself.” Archer fought back the bile rising in his throat, desperate for a way out.

But then, out of the corner of his eye, he spotted a figure—Smoker. The marine moved stealthily, creeping closer to Doflamingo, and a glimmer of hope ignited in Archer's chest. Yes!

Smoker lunged, launching a powerful punch aimed at Doflamingo, but the warlord sidestepped effortlessly, his laugh echoing through the clearing. “You think you can take me down, Marine?” Doflamingo sneered, before countering with a flurry of blows that caught Smoker off guard. Each hit landed like a cannonball, sending the marine crashing to the ground.

Archer strained against the strings binding his wrists, feeling them loosen just enough. In a moment of sheer desperation, he yanked his arms free, his heart racing with adrenaline.

“Doflamingo!” Archer roared, throwing himself at the warlord. With a surge of strength, he knocked Doflamingo off balance, the warlord stumbling back in surprise. Archer didn’t hesitate, delivering a swift kick to Doflamingo’s midsection that sent him sprawling to the ground.

“Get away from him!” Archer yelled, and the warlord fell, stunned.

Smoker groaned, pushing himself up with a grimace as Archer turned to him, quickly assessing his injuries. “You okay?” Archer asked, not bothering to wait for a response.

“Let’s just get the hell out of here,” Smoker grunted, still on his knees.

“Right!” Archer grabbed Smoker's arm, helping him to his feet as they made a break for the shoreline. They dashed through the debris, Archer glancing over his shoulder to make sure Doflamingo was still down, his body slowly coming back into focus. The adrenaline coursed through him, but the dread of being caught again loomed over him like a shadow.

As they reached the edge of the water, Archer scanned the horizon, his heart sinking for a moment when he didn’t see The Silence. But then, just beyond the rocks, he spotted the familiar shape of the ship. “There!” he shouted, pointing. “The Silence!”

“Rosinante!” Archer yelled, hoping against hope that his partner was on board.

In a flurry of movement, Giles appeared, swimming to shore, his fin breaking the water's surface as he maneuvered toward them. Archer quickly shoved Smoker toward him. “Get him to the G-5 ship! He needs medical attention!”

Giles nodded, grabbing Smoker and Archer with surprising strength, and started to swim back toward the waiting G-5 ship.

When Archer finally boarded The Silence, the weight of the chaos and violence from Punk Hazard still clung to him like a suffocating shroud. The familiar creak of the ship felt like a lifeline, but before he could catch his breath, Rosinante was upon him, arms wrapping around him in a fierce embrace.

“Archer!” Rosinante breathed, his voice thick with emotion. It was a tight hold, as if he were afraid that if he let go, Archer would vanish again, swept away by the horrors he had just faced.

“Hey, I’m okay,” Archer whispered, returning the hug with equal intensity. He felt the warmth radiating from Rosinante, grounding him in the moment. “Just... get us away from here, alright?” His heart raced as memories of Doflamingo's taunts and touch flickered in his mind, reminding him of the hell he had escaped.

“Of course,” Rosinante replied, pulling back just enough to search Archer's face, his eyes filled with concern. “Let me help you to the cabin.”

With Rosinante’s arm firmly around his waist, Archer leaned into him as they walked together through the ship.

Rosinante led Archer to their bathroom, his movements gentle but urgent. The world outside faded as they stepped into the small, warm room. The tub was filled with warm water, and Archer felt a wave of relief wash over him as Rosinante helped him out of his pants.

“Just relax,” Rosinante said softly, guiding Archer to sit at the edge of the tub. He grabbed a washcloth and dipped it into the water, wringing it out before beginning to clean Archer’s skin.

Archer closed his eyes, trying to focus on the soothing sensation, but it was hard to forget what had just happened. As Rosinante washed the bitemark on his neck, he paused, his eyes widening in horror. “Archer, what happened? One moment you were on the ship, and then you were gone. I thought—” His voice shook, and Archer could see the worry etched on his face.

Archer’s heart raced, and suddenly, the floodgates opened. Tears streamed down his cheeks as he stammered, trying to find the words. “It was Doflamingo, he kidnapped me. He—he touched me, Rosi. Doflamingo… he—he was right there. He grabbed me and… he licked my neck and bit me. He said he wanted to ruin me, to make me beg for mercy. He said you didn’t deserve me. He wanted to take me for himself.”

His voice cracked as he choked on the memories, the raw fear clawing at him. “I didn’t know what to do. I thought I wouldn’t make it out. But then Smoker… he came. He saved me. He fought Doflamingo. I— I was so scared.”

Rosinante’s expression shifted from shock to a fierce protectiveness as he pulled Archer into his arms. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered, holding him tightly. “I love you, Archer. I love you so much.” He kept repeating it like a mantra, trying to erase the pain with every word.

Archer clung to him, the warmth of Rosinante’s body grounding him amidst the chaos in his mind. “I don’t want to feel this way,” Archer sobbed. “I was so scared.”

Rosinante helped him up gently, drying the water from Archer’s skin with careful hands. “You’re safe now. I promise,” he said, his voice steady. He lifted Archer into his arms, carrying him to the bed. Archer buried his face against Rosinante’s shoulder, breathing in his familiar scent.

“I’ll make him pay for what he did to you,” Rosinante said, his tone low and fierce. Inside, he was already planning revenge for his lover. Doflamingo wouldn’t get away with this. “No one hurts you and gets away with it. I swear it.”

As he laid Archer down on the bed, Rosinante continued to whisper sweet reassurances, wrapping him in the warmth of his love. Archer looked up at him through tear-stained eyes, and for a moment, the darkness began to lift.

“Just stay with me,” Archer pleaded, his voice still trembling.

“Always,” Rosinante replied, holding him close. “I’m right here. Always.”

Chapter Text

Archer was trapped in darkness.

His mind spun in a whirlwind of pain and fear, everything blurring together as he drifted deeper into a nightmare that felt too real to be a dream. He thrashed against the unseen forces that held him down, his breath coming in ragged gasps. Doflamingo’s sinister grin hovered above him, those piercing eyes locking him in place, paralyzing him with fear.

“Rosinante doesn’t want you,” Doflamingo’s voice slithered through his mind, cold and mocking. “Why would he? Look at you. Ruined. Broken.”

Archer tried to fight back, tried to move, but his body felt like lead. His hands clawed at the air, reaching for something—anything to stop the voice. But it was like sinking into quicksand. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t get free.

“You’re nothing,” Doflamingo sneered, leaning in closer. His fingers traced over Archer’s skin, bringing back the sensation from the island. “Rosinante could never love something so filthy.”

No, Archer thought, his mind screaming against the taunts. But his voice was gone, buried under layers of helplessness.

In the nightmare, Rosinante stood in the distance, watching with disgust. His face twisted in revulsion as he turned his back on Archer, leaving him alone in the dark.

“Rosi, no… please!” Archer called out, his voice raw with desperation. “Don’t leave me! Don’t… I need you.”

But Rosinante kept walking, his broad back disappearing into the mist, taking the warmth and safety with him. Behind him followed Ace and Luffy and Law, their faces hard and cold, their eyes full of disdain.

“You’re not our father anymore,” Ace said, his voice void of any warmth. “We don’t need you.”

Luffy looked away, his hat low over his eyes, refusing to even glance in Archer’s direction. “You're weak," Luffy muttered. "We hate you." Law added.

Archer’s heart shattered. The pain cut deep, sharper than any sword, as if everything he cared about had been ripped away in an instant. He reached out for them, his hand shaking as he tried to grasp at the last slivers of hope, but his sons walked away too. Leaving him alone… still under Doflamingo’s control. Still broken.

No… please, no… he wanted to scream, but his voice was swallowed by the void.

And then came the pain.

So much pain. Doflamingo’s cruel laughter echoed in his ears, each taunt like a stab to his soul. Archer screamed, his body convulsing in agony as the torment surged through him. He couldn’t escape it. The darkness closed in, suffocating him. It felt endless, like he’d never be free of the nightmare, never feel anything but the crushing weight of Doflamingo’s presence.

He screamed louder, his voice tearing from his throat, raw and desperate.

“NO! ROSI—!”

Suddenly, Archer jolted awake, his body drenched in cold sweat. He was gasping, the remnants of the nightmare clinging to him like a shroud. His heart pounded, his chest rising and falling in ragged breaths. He could still feel Doflamingo’s hands, still hear his mocking voice, still see Rosinante turning away, leaving him alone.

But then—warmth. Strong arms wrapped around him, pulling him into a protective embrace. Archer’s eyes blinked open, his vision blurry and disoriented, but the familiar scent grounded him. He wasn’t alone. He wasn’t still in the nightmare.

“Rosi…” Archer choked, his voice trembling as he clung to his lover like a lifeline.

Rosinante tightened his grip, his face inches from Archer’s. “I’m here,” he whispered, his voice full of concern, but firm. “You’re safe. It was just a dream.”

Archer shook his head, the tears welling up in his eyes before he could stop them. “It… it felt so real. He—he took everything. You, the boys… you all left me. You… you didn’t want me anymore.”

Rosinante pulled back slightly, cupping Archer’s face in his hands. His brown eyes were burning with emotion as he stared into Archer’s, forcing him to focus on the present. “That’s not real. I’ll never leave you, Archer. Never.”

Archer swallowed hard, his throat tight, trying to push the fear and lingering terror away. “He said… he said you’d find me disgusting. That I was… ruined.” His voice broke at the word, his heart twisting at the thought.

Rosinante’s eyes softened, his thumb gently brushing away the tears from Archer’s cheeks. “You listen to me,” he said, his voice low and steady. “There is nothing Doflamingo can do that will ever change how I feel about you. You’re not ruined. You’re not broken. I love you, Archer. Always.”

Archer let out a shaky breath, leaning into Rosinante’s touch, trying to believe the words, to drown out the echoes of the nightmare. “I was so scared,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “I thought… I thought I’d lose you.”

Rosinante pressed a soft kiss to Archer’s forehead. “You’ll never lose me,” he murmured. “I’m here. Always.”

Archer clung to Rosinante, burying his face in his chest as he whispered, “I’m afraid to sleep.”

His voice trembled, raw and stripped of the usual confidence he carried. It was a vulnerability he had never shown before, not even to Rosinante. But the weight of it all—the nightmare, the memories—was too much to hold back anymore.

“Every time I close my eyes…” Archer’s voice cracked, his breath hitching as the fear tightened its grip on him. “I see him. I hear his laugh, feel his hands on me… I’ve never felt so weak, Rosi. So… helpless.”

Rosinante’s arms wrapped around him tighter, pulling him as close as possible, like he could shield Archer from the horrors clawing at him from the inside. His heart ached, hearing Archer—his strong, fearless Archer—so broken.

“You’re not weak,” Rosinante said softly, his voice steady but filled with emotion. “You’re the strongest person I know, Archer. And I’ll be damned if I let him or anyone else make you feel like this.”

Archer shook his head, still trembling. “But I was… he made me feel… like I was nothing. I couldn’t fight back. I couldn’t stop him. I’ve never been this scared in my life, Rosi.” His voice dropped to barely a whisper, choking on the last words. “I don’t know if I can sleep again… I don’t want to feel like that again.”

Rosinante’s heart twisted painfully, but he refused to let go. He cupped the back of Archer’s head, pressing his lips to his temple. “You don’t have to do this alone, Archer. I’m here, right here. You’re safe with me.”

Archer’s grip tightened around him, the tears slipping free as he whispered, “I don’t feel safe anywhere… not even in my own head.”

Rosinante held him even closer, feeling Archer's body shake against his. “Then I’ll stay awake with you,” he promised. “I’ll watch over you. Every time you close your eyes, I’ll be here to chase away whatever’s haunting you. You’re not alone in this, Archer. I won’t let him win. Not ever.”

Archer pressed his face into Rosinante’s chest, taking a shaky breath as he tried to hold back the tears, but the fear was too deep, too fresh.

“I love you, Rosi,” Archer whispered, his voice breaking. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Rosinante’s grip on him tightened, his own heart aching with love and pain for the man in his arms.

Next morning Archer stood in front of the mirror, his reflection staring back at him like a stranger. He took a few deep breaths, trying to steady the tightness in his chest, but it was no use. His body was a map of pain, each mark telling the story of what had happened. Old scars from battles long ago, new injuries from yesterday’s brutal fight against Caesar and his twisted followers, and the worst of it all—the marks Doflamingo left behind.

He traced his fingers lightly over his back, flinching at the soreness. It was one massive bruise, the result of being thrown into the hard ground like he was nothing. His cheek still stung from where Doflamingo had dug his nails into him, the skin there rough and red. But his eyes kept coming back to the angry red line that stretched from his collarbone down to his navel, a chilling reminder of Doflamingo's sick touch as he'd traced his finger across his chest.

Then there was the bite.

Right on his throat, swollen and bruised, the bite mark stared back at him like an accusation. It throbbed with every breath he took, a constant reminder of how close he had come to something he didn’t even want to think about. His hands shook as they moved down to his wrists, where deep cuts marred the skin, the result of those damn strings Doflamingo had used to tie him up. They were still raw, the skin around them dark and angry.

“Fuck,” Archer whispered to himself, his voice barely audible in the quiet of the bathroom.

He felt exposed, vulnerable in a way he hadn’t been in years. All his life, Archer had fought—fought to protect the people he loved, fought to survive. But this… this was something different. Doflamingo had broken something in him, something Archer wasn’t sure he could piece back together.

His fists clenched on the sink as he leaned forward, staring into the mirror. The image staring back at him felt foreign, like a man he didn’t recognize. He’d been hurt before, sure—hell, he had the scars to prove it—but nothing like this. Nothing that dug this deep.

Archer stepped into the shower, the heat blasting as he turned the knob all the way up. The scalding water hit his skin, but he didn’t flinch. He grabbed the soap and started scrubbing, harder than he ever had before. His hands moved furiously over every inch of his body, scrubbing as if he could wash away the bad thoughts, the memories, the feeling of Doflamingo's touch.

He couldn’t stop.

Every swipe of the soap, every scrub felt like an attempt to erase what had happened. The bruises, the bite marks, the scratches—they all felt like reminders. And Archer didn’t want any of them to stay. His nails dug into his skin as he scrubbed, his chest heaving, breaths quick and shallow. He pushed harder, barely noticing the way his body screamed in protest.

It wasn’t until the water turned red that he even began to realize what he was doing. The warmth running down his legs wasn’t just from the water. It was blood, streaming from the wounds he had torn open in his frantic effort to feel clean again. But even that barely registered in his mind—he kept going, scrubbing as if it would somehow undo everything.

The water shut off suddenly. Archer blinked, dazed, as strong arms wrapped around him, pulling him from the shower.

"Archer! What the hell are you doing?!" Rosinante's voice was sharp with panic, his hands gripping Archer's shoulders as he carefully pulled him out of the tub. “Look at yourself!”

Archer glanced down and finally saw it—the blood mixing with the water that dripped from his body, pooling at his feet. His wounds, the ones Doflamingo had left, were torn open again, blood pouring from the deep cuts on his wrists, the bruises on his back looking even worse now. He’d done this to himself.

“I…” Archer’s voice was barely a whisper. “I didn’t realize…”

Rosinante grabbed a towel and gently wrapped it around him, his hands trembling as he pressed it against Archer’s bleeding wrists, trying to stop the flow. "Why would you do this to yourself?" Rosinante’s voice broke, his usual calm shattered by the sight of Archer in this state.

"I wasn’t thinking..." Archer mumbled, his voice thick with exhaustion. "I just… I wanted to get it off me. All of it."

Rosinante stared at him, his eyes filled with pain. “You don’t need to hurt yourself, Archer. None of this is your fault. None of it.”

Archer leaned his head back against the wall, closing his eyes as his body started to shake. He hadn’t meant to rip open his wounds, but now that he saw the blood, it felt like a sick kind of release.

“I don’t know how to make it stop,” Archer whispered, his voice cracking.

Rosinante knelt in front of him, holding Archer’s face in his hands, his thumbs brushing away the water and blood on his cheeks. “We’ll figure it out together. But you need to stop punishing yourself. Please.”

Archer nodded, though his body felt weak, his mind still reeling from everything that had happened. He let Rosinante help him up, guiding him to the bed and wrapping him in a blanket, as if trying to shield him from the world.

As Rosinante quietly began to patch him up, Archer let himself be vulnerable, just for a moment. Maybe that was enough for now. He was still here, still fighting—he wasn’t ready to give up yet.

Later that day, Archer sat on the edge of the bed, staring down at his hands. He’d been hiding in the cabin long enough, and deep down, he knew the others would soon come knocking. The crew wasn’t exactly known for leaving things alone—especially not when it came to him.

With a sigh, he stood and walked over to the small dresser, rummaging through his clothes. He pulled out a black turtleneck sweater, something Raya had given him as a prank gift. She always thought it was hilarious that he stuck to shirts and shorts, no matter what. He could almost hear her snickering about him actually wearing the damn thing now. But it wasn’t for her amusement—it was for survival. If he could hide the bruises, the marks, maybe he could avoid questions. He wasn’t ready to explain what had happened. Hell, he wasn’t sure if he’d ever be.

Archer slipped the turtleneck on, wincing as it brushed against his bruised back, but the fabric did its job, covering up most of the injuries Doflamingo had left behind. He pulled on a pair of long trousers, completing the disguise. For once, he was glad to be dressed so differently from his usual look. He glanced in the mirror, taking a deep breath. No one would see the marks. No one would have to know. At least, not yet.

Bracing himself, Archer stepped out of the cabin and onto the deck. The sea breeze hit him, and for a moment, it felt like a small relief—until the familiar noises of the crew reached his ears. The laughter, the conversations, everything normal, as if nothing had changed. But everything had changed.

He lit a cigarette, taking a long drag as he leaned against the railing, trying to ground himself. The smoke filled his lungs, calming his nerves just enough. He stared out at the horizon, pretending for just a moment that things could be as simple as they had been before.

Footsteps approached, and Archer tensed, ready for the inevitable. He couldn’t hide forever, but for now, the turtleneck and cigarette were his armor. With any luck, no one would see past them.

Before Archer even had time to exhale another puff of smoke, he was tackled from both sides by two familiar forces—Ace and Luffy. They wrapped him up in a crushing hug, their laughter echoing across the deck. Archer’s cigarette nearly fell from his lips as he stumbled back, completely caught off guard.

“What the hell?” he managed, his voice muffled as he tried to untangle himself from their arms. “What are you two doing on the Silence? I thought you were sailing with Luffys crew?”

Luffy grinned up at him, still clinging to his side. "We missed you!" he declared, as if that explained everything. "Papa and Nami said we're stopping at the next island to restock, so we came over here!"

Ace, still holding onto Archer like he hadn’t seen him in years, nodded in agreement. "Yeah, we didn’t wanna wait. Thought we’d come hang out with you instead."

Archer blinked, his heart tugging in two different directions. He was confused, caught between wanting to stay hidden and feeling an overwhelming wave of relief seeing his boys. His smile, though forced, felt a little more real as he looked down at them. They were safe. They were here. He couldn't help but be grateful for that.

“You little brats,” he muttered, ruffling Luffy’s hair and slapping Ace’s back. “Didn’t even give me a warning.”

Law appeared a few steps behind them, his usual cool demeanor in place but with a small smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “I tried to stop them dad” he said with a shrug, though Archer could tell he wasn’t too upset about it.

Archer nodded, his smile still not quite reaching his eyes, but damn, he was glad to see them. As much as he wanted to hide everything away, seeing Ace, Luffy, and Law made the weight on his shoulders a little lighter. Even if they didn’t know what had happened yet, their presence was enough to help him hold it together—at least for a little while longer.

Luffy, always surprisingly sharp when it came to emotions, tilted his head and looked up at Archer, a frown creasing his forehead. “What’s wrong dad?” he asked, his voice soft in a way that caught Archer off guard.

For a split second, Archer froze. Luffy’s question hit harder than he expected, but he quickly masked it, shaking his head with a smile that didn’t quite meet his eyes. “Nothing, kid,” he replied, forcing a lighter tone. “Just tired. Now, be sweet and go grab me a couple of beers, huh?”

Ace, Luffy, and Law exchanged glances, their eyebrows raised in suspicion, but they didn’t push it. They knew better than to press their dad when he wasn’t ready to talk. Nodding, they turned and went off to get the beers, leaving Archer alone for a moment.

With a long sigh, Archer dropped himself into a chair, feeling the weight of everything settle over him like a thick blanket. His body ached, the bruises and cuts hidden under his clothes reminding him of every second he spent tied to that rock, every inch of skin that Doflamingo had touched. But he couldn’t think about that now. Not with the boys around. He wasn’t ready to explain, and they didn’t need to know the details—not yet.

Lighting another cigarette, Archer took a deep drag and stared out at the ocean, trying to let the sound of the waves drown out his racing thoughts.

Archer slumped deeper into the chair, too exhausted to stay awake even if he wanted to. The cool breeze of the sea and the gentle rocking of the ship lulled him into a dreamless sleep, which, considering everything, was a blessing.

Every now and then, voices drifted into his half-conscious mind, blending into the background noise of the ship’s daily routine. He heard the footsteps of the crew, the clatter of gear being adjusted, the occasional laugh, and bits of conversations he couldn’t quite make out.

But one stood out.

“…What’s up with dad?” That was Law’s voice, low and concerned.

Then another, Ace, chiming in, “Yeah, something’s off. He’s not himself.”

“I asked him,” Luffy’s voice piped up, quieter than usual. “But he just smiled… It wasn’t a real smile, though.”

Archer’s heart clenched hearing them talk about him, but he couldn’t open his eyes or muster the energy to intervene. He felt frozen, both physically and emotionally. He didn’t want them to worry, but damn, he didn’t know how to handle all this right now.

Rosinante’s voice came next, sounding as calm as he could make it, though Archer could hear the strain. “He’s been through a lot the past few days. I’m not going into details, but… let him be for now. He just needs time to process things.”

There was a pause, and Archer could feel their concern hanging in the air like a thick fog. Law pressed further, but his voice had softened. “Did something happen to him, papa? He’s never like this.”

Rosinante let out a sigh, quieter this time. “Yeah, something happened. But it’s his story to tell, not mine. Just… give him space, alright? He’ll talk when he’s ready.”

Archer almost let out a breath of relief. He couldn’t handle telling them right now, especially not with everything still so fresh, so raw. He was grateful Rosinante hadn’t spilled the full truth. He wasn’t ready for that conversation—not yet.

As the voices faded again, Archer drifted back into the heavy, dreamless sleep, still hearing fragments of the world around him, but too far gone to wake up.

Archer blinked against the sunlight streaming through the porthole, momentarily disoriented. As his eyes adjusted, he took in the sight around him: Luffy sprawled across his legs, Ace nestled against his side, and Law perched at the foot of the bed, all wrapped in a tangle of limbs and blankets. The warmth radiating from them felt comforting, like a gentle embrace that eased the weight of the world off his shoulders.

For the first time since he returned, a genuine smile broke across Archer's face. It was a simple, pure joy that surged through him, chasing away the shadows that had lingered since Doflamingo's attack. He carefully shifted, not wanting to disturb the pile of warmth resting against him.

Luffy stirred, blinking his big, innocent eyes open. “Hey, Dad! You’re awake!” he exclaimed, a wide grin spreading across his face.

Archer chuckled softly. “Looks like I am.”

Ace yawned and stretched, his voice still heavy with sleep. “You scared us for a minute there dad. You were out for a while.”

Archer felt a pang of guilt but brushed it aside. “Just needed some rest,” he replied, ruffling Ace’s hair. “You boys are a handful, you know that?”

“Only because you’re so comfy!” Luffy giggled, curling tighter against Archer.

The peaceful atmosphere was shattered when Law groaned, “Can you guys keep it down? I’m trying to sleep.” He rubbed his eyes but couldn’t hide the small smile tugging at his lips.

Archer looked at Law as he settled in beside him. “So, where’s your Papa?” he asked, his voice still a bit groggy.

Ace stretched lazily before answering, “He and Nami are trying to locate the Polar Tang. They said they wanted to make sure it’s ready for when we hit Dressrosa.”

Archer raised an eyebrow, turning to Law. “Why aren’t you helping them? It’s your crew.”

Law shrugged, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “I’d rather be here with you,” he replied casually, though his eyes sparkled with sincerity.

The warmth spread in Archer’s chest at the words. “Really? Just hanging out with me?” He feigned disbelief, although he knew how much Law cared.

“Yeah, really,” Law said, rolling his eyes but unable to hide the soft smile. “Besides, they can manage without me for a little while. I wanted to check on you first.”

Ace watched their exchange, a teasing grin appearing on his face. “Look at you two, all lovey-dovey. Is this what we’re doing now?”

Luffy, still trying to shake off sleep, piped up, “Are we going to get breakfast? I’m hungry!”

“Yeah, breakfast sounds good,” Archer agreed, brushing off the teasing. “Let’s go see if Papa and Nami have found the Polar Tang yet. I bet they’ll have food waiting for us.”

The four of them climbed out of bed, the banter continuing as they made their way to the galley. Archer felt lighter with each step, surrounded by his boys. Whatever lay ahead, he knew he could face it with them by his side.

Chapter Text

Archer stood in front of the table, arms crossed, his gaze burning into each of them. He was done being out of the loop, done feeling powerless. “Alright,” he started, voice low but deadly serious. “I’ve been stuck in my own head for the past few days, but no more. Now I want to know everything that’s going on. No bullshit, no sugarcoating. If any of you hold something back, I swear, I’ll tan your asses so bad you won’t be able to sit for the next five days. Got it?”

Rosinante raised an eyebrow, exchanging a glance with Law and Luffy and Ace. Archer’s no-nonsense tone cut through the air like a blade. Luffy, always the first to break silence, shouted with his usual enthusiasm, “We’re going to take out Doflamingo!”

The words hit Archer like a punch to the gut. His vision swam for a second, and his hand instinctively gripped the edge of the table so hard his knuckles turned white. “What?” he gritted out, his heart thudding in his chest. “How? Why?”

He glared around the table, eyes flicking between Luffy, Law, and Ace. Law, ever calm in the face of Archer’s fury, leaned forward slightly, hands folded in front of him as he began to explain. “Doflamingo is behind something called SMILE. He’s been manufacturing fake Devil Fruits and selling them to a Yonko—Kaido. That’s why we raided Punk Hazard. Caesar Clown was the one creating them. Taking down Doflamingo is the key to stopping this operation. And to take out Kaido, we have to take down Doflamingo first.”

Luffy, Ace, and Law all nodded at each other, as if this insane plan was the most natural thing in the world.

Archer’s eye twitched. His blood boiled under his skin. This wasn’t just some small operation—this was fucking huge. A full-on assault against Doflamingo, one of the most dangerous men in the world, and then Kaido, one of the Yonkos. The sheer size of this plan made his head spin. And it was dangerous. So damn dangerous. His gaze landed on Rosinante, who sat silently at the table, eyes downcast, avoiding his look.

“You knew?” Archer’s voice was barely above a whisper, but it dripped with anger. Rosinante didn’t look up, just nodded, shame clear in his posture. Archer slammed his hand on the table, making everyone flinch. “And you didn’t think to tell me? Tell me, the one person who’s got more reason to hate that bastard than anyone?”

Rosi finally looked up, his eyes soft and apologetic. “I didn’t want to pull you in… not after what happened.”

Archer’s temper flared hotter. “That’s exactly why I should have been pulled in! You think I’m going to sit on the sidelines while you plan to take down the man who—” He stopped, voice cracking for a moment.

Archer felt the tension in the room skyrocket the moment he yanked off his turtleneck. The air in the galley became thick with silence as he turned his back towards them, exposing the large, gnarled scar that snaked from his right shoulder blade down to his hip. The scar was a brutal reminder, still red and angry despite the years that had passed.

“That,” Archer hissed through gritted teeth, pointing at the scar, “is from Kaido himself.”

He could feel their eyes on him, wide with shock and disbelief. No one dared to speak. His voice was low, but it carried the weight of buried rage.

“I was sixteen. Just a cocky little shit who didn’t know who the hell Kaido was or what an Emperor of the Sea even meant. He wanted me for his army of Zoan Devil Fruit users.” He paused, his golden eyes darkening as the memory surged back. His fangs elongated, anger turning his gaze feral. “I mocked him. Thought I was invincible. He tried to kill me. I barely got out alive.”

The table creaked under his grip as he leaned over it, glaring at each of them. “Do any of you have any idea how dangerous Kaido is? Are you so fucking naive that you think this is some small-time villain we’re going after?”

The silence that followed was suffocating. No one dared meet his eyes. Luffy, Law, and Ace all sat in stunned silence, and even Rosinante seemed at a loss for words. Archer’s patience snapped, and with a roar of frustration, he slammed his fist down on the table, the wood splintering under the force of his blow. The crack echoed through the room like a gunshot.

“Do you understand now?” he growled, his breathing ragged. His body trembled with the barely-contained rage boiling inside him.

Luffy, normally unshaken by anything, looked up with wide, uncertain eyes. His voice was small, uncharacteristically timid. “Dad… where did you get the bruise on your back?”

The question hit Archer harder than Kaido’s blows ever had. He froze, his body stiffening as the rage shifted into something darker, more vulnerable. Slowly, he turned his head, his sharp gaze locking onto Luffy.

“That bruise,” he spat out, voice hoarse, “is from when I was kidnapped by Doflamingo after Punk Hazard two days ago.” His fists clenched, nails digging into his palms as he forced the next words out. “And he… almost raped me.”

The air was thick with a mixture of horror and disbelief. No one moved. No one breathed.

Archer’s rage and shame burned hotter than ever. He couldn’t stand the looks on their faces. Couldn’t handle the pity or the helplessness in their eyes. Without another word, he stormed out of the galley, slamming the door behind him with a force that rattled the entire ship.

He needed air. Space. Anything to escape the raw emotions threatening to break him. As he stepped onto the deck, the cool breeze hit his face, but it did nothing to soothe the fire raging inside him. He leaned against the railing, trying to steady his breathing, trying to rein in the flood of memories that Doflamingo had unleashed.

He had exposed more than just his scars in that room. He had exposed his pain. His fear. And he hated it. But what terrified him more was the idea of losing them. Of losing his boys. His family.

He clenched his fists, staring out at the horizon. They were heading straight for the lion’s den. Straight into the hands of Doflamingo and Kaido.

Archer’s chest heaved as he struggled to breathe. Every inhale felt like fire, like he was choking on air itself. His vision blurred, and for a terrifying moment, he couldn’t feel his body at all. His knees buckled, and he sank to the deck, gripping his chest as if he could physically hold himself together. The overwhelming emotions were crashing in on him—fear, shame, rage—and they threatened to drown him.

Then he felt a hand on his shoulder. Warm, steady, grounding.

Raya.

“Come on,” she murmured gently, tugging him up to his feet. He barely registered her words as she pulled him along, leading him through the ship into her cabin. Archer had never been in here before, but there wasn’t time for his usual banter or curiosity. He was unraveling, falling apart at the seams.

She sat him down on the edge of her bed and knelt in front of him, taking his hands in hers. “Breathe with me, Archer. Slowly. In and out.”

He tried. At first, it felt impossible, his breath hitching and coming out in ragged gasps. But she kept her hands firm on his, her voice calm and steady as she guided him through it. Slowly, painfully, he began to feel the air filling his lungs again. The pressure in his chest eased, and his mind started to clear.

But then the tears came. Unbidden, unwelcome, hot tears that he hadn’t wanted to shed. Archer cursed under his breath, wiping at his eyes furiously. Fucking hell. He couldn’t stop them. Couldn’t hold back the flood.

Raya, the goddess she was, didn’t say a word. Instead, she reached into a drawer and pulled out a bottle of rum, handing it to him with a small, knowing smile. Archer took it, grateful for the distraction, and took a long, burning swig. The warmth of the alcohol spread through him, taking the edge off the storm inside.

She sat beside him on the bed, her presence solid and comforting. “You know,” she began quietly, her voice soft but unwavering, “when you and Rosinante saved me and Giles from that slave ship… I didn’t think I’d make it.”

Archer looked at her, surprised. She rarely spoke about her past, especially about what had happened before they’d met. He wasn’t sure he was ready to hear more, but Raya kept going, her tone gentle.

“I’d been sold by my old madam,” she continued, her purple eyes dark with the weight of old memories. “Spent four weeks on that ship, and in that time, the men… they did whatever they wanted to me. I thought I’d die there, or worse—live out the rest of my days being used like that.”

Archer swallowed hard, his own pain temporarily forgotten as he listened to her. He knew this story had no happy ending, but the way she spoke about it—it was like she was laying her soul bare for him.

“When you and Rosi stormed that ship and freed us, I thought, ‘Here we go again, another pair of men to hurt me.’ But instead, you two turned out to be the gayest bastards I’ve ever met.” She let out a soft laugh, shaking her head. “You have no idea the relief I felt. For the first time in what felt like forever, I was safe.”

Raya turned to him, her expression serious now. “What I’m trying to say is, there’s no shame in being angry, Archer. Or in crying. What happened to you—what nearly happened—it doesn’t matter if it was almost or if it was all the way. Someone hurt you. Someone tried to take away your control. And that’s enough to break anyone.”

Archer’s throat tightened again, but this time, he wasn’t trying to fight the tears. He looked down at the bottle of rum, turning it in his hands. “I wasn’t… I wasn’t raped,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “But it was close.”

Raya shook her head softly. “It doesn’t matter. Someone tried to hurt you, to take something from you, and that’s enough. Don’t let anyone tell you it’s not the same. You don’t have to downplay your pain because it wasn’t the ‘worst’ version of it.”

Her words sank in, and for the first time, Archer felt like a weight had been lifted. He let out a shaky breath, wiping the remnants of tears from his cheeks. “Thank you,” he whispered, his voice raw.

Raya smiled gently, her usual sharp edge softened. “Don’t thank me, you idiot. Thanks to you and the crew, I’m still here. I didn’t… I didn’t end it after what I went through. And for that, I’ll always owe you.”

They sat there for a while, in a comfortable, quiet understanding. Archer leaned into the warmth of her presence, feeling more grounded than he had in days. For once, the storm inside him wasn’t so overwhelming. He wasn’t okay, not by a long shot. But for now, in this moment, he felt just a little less broken. And that was something.

As Archer stepped out of Raya’s cabin, a soft buzz from the rum still lingered in his veins. It dulled the sharpest edges of his emotions, but it wasn’t enough to take away the hollow feeling in his chest. The sea breeze hit his face as he walked onto the deck, its salty air not quite as refreshing as it used to be. He stood there, staring out at the endless blue, but the sight didn’t bring him the usual sense of peace. Instead, it only reminded him of how distant everything felt—how distant he felt.

He ran a hand through his hair, frustrated. I’m being cut out, he thought. They’re doing shit behind my back, and no one’s telling me anything. The anger flared briefly, but it wasn’t the usual hot fire. It was more like embers, smoldering quietly, feeding the growing sense of disconnection. He hated it. Hated feeling like he didn’t have a grip on things. But if that was how it was, if they were pushing him out, then maybe he should just let them.

Taking a deep breath, Archer forced himself to shrug it off. Fine, he told himself. Let them handle the shit. I’m out.

His eyes drifted toward the sea once more before he turned away, walking over to where his stuff was. He grabbed a book from his belongings, not even caring what it was. He just needed something to occupy his mind—something to keep the thoughts at bay, at least for a little while.

Without a word to anyone, he made his way to the crow's nest. The climb was familiar, his body moving on autopilot as he ascended to the small, isolated perch. It wasn’t until he settled into the space, leaning against the wooden railings, that he felt like he could breathe again. Up here, he was alone. The world below him, with all its chaos and decisions he wasn’t a part of, felt distant. Like it wasn’t his problem anymore.

He opened the book and stared at the page, though the words didn’t immediately register. His mind was still spinning, thoughts swirling around everything and nothing all at once. But up here, at least, he could be alone with it. No one would ask him questions. No one would drag him into whatever madness was happening next. They had their plans—plans that didn’t seem to include him anymore—and that was fine. He’d deal with it in his own way.

For now, he’d just read his book and let the world go on without him.

Archer was genuinely surprised when he realized the book he’d grabbed in his frustrated haze was actually pretty damn good. The plot was gripping, the characters were sharp, and for the first time in what felt like forever, his mind was drawn into something other than his own swirling thoughts. Who knew? he thought, smirking to himself as he flipped another page.

Nugget, landed softly beside him, and Archer glanced over. "Hey, little guy," he murmured, running a careful hand through the bird’s feathers. Nugget seemed unusually calm today, letting Archer stroke him without any protest. It was... kind of nice, actually.

Archer glanced at the bird, half-smiling. "So, what do you think? Am I being dramatic? A complete wuss?" Nugget blinked, staring at him with his usual unreadable expression before hopping right into Archer’s arms. Archer snorted softly, taking that as a yes, or maybe a no. Either way, it was oddly comforting. With a sigh, he set his book down for a moment and focused on stroking the bird's soft feathers. Nugget, for once, seemed content with the attention, his small body warm and steady against Archer’s chest.

Just as he was starting to feel some sense of peace, voices drifted up from the deck below. Archer recognized one immediately—Raya. She was yelling. Loudly.

"Fucking idiots! Morons! Inconsiderate assholes!" Archer could only make out fragments of the tirade, but from the sound of it, someone was in deep trouble. He half-chuckled, glad for once that he wasn’t on the receiving end of her wrath, though he felt a little sorry for the poor bastards down there.

Then he heard it.

"Ungrateful sons... stupid boyfriends!"

Her voice carried clearly to the crow’s nest, each insult hitting like an explosion in the otherwise quiet afternoon. Archer paused, eyebrows raised. This was a new level of Raya rage.

And then, unmistakably, came the sound of a smack.

Archer’s eyes widened. Did she just hit someone? Holy shit. He tried to stifle a laugh, glancing down toward the deck. “Damn, Nugget,” he muttered to the bird still sitting calmly in his arms, “Glad it’s not me. Whoever that was... they might need a doctor, oh wait.. Raya IS the doctor.”

The yelling continued, but Archer tuned it out. For now, it wasn’t his problem. He wasn’t in the mood to get involved in whatever madness was happening down below. Instead, he leaned back against the rail of the crow’s nest, shaking his head in amusement as Nugget settled more comfortably against him. If anything, the commotion only served to make him appreciate the quiet up here a little more. Raya could handle herself, and if anyone deserved a good smack, it was probably for a good reason.

Feeling a little lighter after the quiet moment in the crow's nest with Nugget, Archer climbed down and made his way to the deck. He spotted Giles, Gin, and Timble milling around, and a grin tugged at the corners of his mouth as an idea hit him.

"Oi, you three," Archer called out, swaggering over with a mischievous glint in his eyes. "How ‘bout a game of poker? Loser has to do all the dirty dishes for a week."

Timble’s eyes went wide. "A whole week?!"

"Scared already?" Archer teased, raising an eyebrow.

"No way!" Timble puffed up his chest, determination written all over his face.

Giles gave a casual shrug, clearly unbothered, while Gin, as usual, stayed quiet, though he nodded his agreement. They all sat down on some crates scattered around, Archer already feeling a surge of excitement. This is exactly what I need.

As they dealt the cards, Archer quickly realized a few things: Giles had a poker face that rivaled some of the best Archer had ever seen. The man didn’t give anything away, stone-cold from start to finish. Gin, on the other hand, was horrendous. The poor guy couldn’t bluff to save his life, making the whole game hilarious. And then there was Timble—who could only hold one card at a time, which made his strategy (or lack thereof) utterly transparent.

Archer couldn’t stop laughing.

"What the hell, Timble?" he snickered, watching the kid struggle to keep his single card hidden. "That’s the worst poker hand I’ve ever seen."

Timble glared back, clearly trying to be serious but failing miserably as Archer chuckled at his frustration. Even Giles cracked a smile, which was rare enough to catch Archer’s attention.

"Man, Giles, how do you do it?" Archer asked, shaking his head in disbelief. "You’ve got the best poker face on this ship."

Giles just shrugged, barely acknowledging the compliment as he collected his chips—yet again. Archer’s competitive streak flared, but damn, he was having fun. It was just what he needed to shake off the tension that had been building up over the past few days.

When they finally wrapped up the game, dinner was looming. Gin headed toward the stove, and Archer, still riding the high from the poker game, decided to join him. "Need a hand, Gin?"

Gin blinked, surprised. "Sure. Thanks."

Archer rolled up his sleeves and started chopping some vegetables, occasionally snatching a few bites when Gin wasn’t looking. It felt good to be doing something simple, something that didn’t require overthinking or strategy. Plus, snacking on the job? Best part.

As they worked, the smell of cooking filled the air, and Archer’s stomach growled in anticipation. By the time everything was ready, there was just one problem—the dining table was still broken from earlier.

"Guess we’re eating on the deck," Archer chuckled, scratching the back of his head. The others didn’t seem to mind, though. The fresh sea breeze and the open sky made for a pretty good atmosphere, anyway.

After eating, Archer rushed into his cabin to relax in the bathtub. But Archer barely had time to register the sound of the door creaking open before Luffy’s familiar, overexcited voice echoed through the cabin.

“Dad! You in here?”

Archer gritted his teeth, sinking lower into the water. Goddamn it, he thought, considering the merits of just staying quiet and pretending to be asleep. Maybe they'd leave him alone.

Of course, that idea went straight out the window when Luffy, the little shit, barged right in, swinging the bathroom door wide open. “There you are!” he yelled, eyes bright with energy.

“Luffy, I swear—” Archer started, but before he could even finish the sentence, Ace, Law, and Rosinante had all piled into the small bathroom, their curious eyes scanning him like he was some kind of zoo exhibit.

“You’ve got to be kidding me…” Archer muttered, wiping a hand down his face, water sloshing around the tub as he glared at them.

Rosi, looking half-apologetic but mostly amused, shrugged. “We were worried. You disappeared after dinner.”

“I’m bathing,” Archer hissed, gesturing to the tub like it wasn’t the most obvious thing in the world.

Ace folded his arms, smirking. “Doesn’t mean we can’t check on you.”

“Check on me? What am I, five?”

Luffy was already making himself comfortable, plopping down on the floor next to the tub, grinning like an idiot. “You’re always grumpy when you’re tired, Dad.”

Archer groaned. “No shit. Now can I please get ten minutes of peace?”

Law, standing with his arms crossed, leaned against the wall, his usual calm demeanor on full display. “We just wanted to talk. About earlier,” he said, eyes locking with Archer’s. His voice had a seriousness to it, one that Archer couldn’t easily brush off.

Archer met Law’s gaze, feeling his frustration build again. He’d been trying to avoid this conversation, trying to push all that shit from earlier to the back of his mind. But it seemed like the boys, and even Rosi, weren’t going to let him off that easy.

"Now?" Archer asked, incredulity rising in his voice. “You want to talk about this now, while I’m sitting in a bathtub?”

Rosinante chuckled softly, shaking his head. “To be fair, it’s the only place we’ve found you relaxed all day.”

Archer sighed, sinking further into the water. “Fine, talk. But if any of you try to climb into this damn tub, I’m getting out and slamming the door in your face.”

Luffy opened his mouth, clearly thinking about making some ridiculous joke, but one look from Archer shut him up fast. He smiled sheepishly, settling back down on the floor.

Law, always the more serious of the three, was the first to speak. “You’re pissed off about the plan. We get it.”

“Pissed off is putting it lightly,” Archer growled, his hand gripping the edge of the tub. “You’re all charging headfirst into something that could get you killed.”

Ace leaned in, his expression softening slightly. “We’re not naive, Dad. We know the risks.”

“Do you?” Archer shot back, eyes flashing. “Because I’ve been up against Kaido, and I’m telling you—he’s not someone you can just fight. He’s a goddamn monster.”

“Which is why we need to take him out,” Law added quietly, his tone resolute. “We know it won’t be easy, but we’ve been planning this for a while now. We’re not going in blind.”

Archer’s frustration bubbled up again, threatening to boil over. “Plans mean nothing when you're facing someone like him. Trust me.”

Rosinante stepped forward then, his calm, grounding presence cutting through some of the tension. “We’re not ignoring the danger, Archer,” he said softly. “But we also can’t just sit back and do nothing.”

Archer’s jaw tightened as he fixed his gaze on the group, the steam from the bath rising around him like a shroud. “You all can do whatever the hell you want,” he growled, his voice low and dangerous. “But as Co-Captain of the Silence, I have every right to voice my concerns and be kept in the loop. You don’t get to make these decisions without me.”

Rosinante opened his mouth to respond, but Archer cut him off with a sharp gesture. “And don’t even think about defending them, Rosi. I mean it. If you want to go off and join their merry band of idiots, then be my guest. You’re free to find a place to sleep on the Thousand Sunny for all I care.”

“Archer—” Rosi started, his brow furrowed, but Archer was on a roll now.

“No,” Archer snapped, sitting up straight in the tub, water splashing over the sides. “I’m serious. If this plan goes to hell, it won’t just be your asses on the line. It’ll be the entire crew of the Silence. And you think I’m going to just sit here and let you all charge into danger without knowing what the fuck is going on?”

“Dad, we’re not trying to leave you out—” Ace began, but Archer’s glare silenced him.

“Unless you can give me one good reason why I should trust you with this,” Archer pressed, voice rising slightly, “I don’t want to hear another word about it. You want Silence to join you? Fine. But I’m not moving an inch unless you tell me everything.”

The room fell quiet, the weight of Archer’s words hanging heavy in the air. Luffy shifted uncomfortably, looking between his dad and the others, clearly not understanding the gravity of the situation.

Finally, Law broke the silence, his expression serious. “You’re right dad. You deserve to know,” he said, meeting Archer’s fierce gaze head-on. “Doflamingo is a threat to all of us. We thought we could take him down without involving everyone, but we need all three crew’s strength for this. And if we’re going to do it, we have to do it right.”

Archer’s eyes narrowed. “You’re damn right you do. I won’t let anyone else’s lives be put at risk just because you want to be a hero. I won’t lose any of my people because of your reckless plans.”

As the last of the explanations faded into an uncomfortable silence, Archer crossed his arms, his expression grim. “This plan is ridiculous,” he declared, his voice low and firm. “You think we can just waltz into Doflamingo’s territory and take him out? You’re all so naive. There are countless things that could go wrong, and I’m not about to sit back and watch you all walk into a trap.”

The tension in the room thickened as the boys exchanged worried glances. “But we have to try, dad,” Luffy insisted, his trademark enthusiasm dimmed. “If we don’t stop him, he’ll just keep hurting people.”

Archer’s eyes narrowed. “And what about your crew? You’re putting them at risk without even informing them of what you’re sending them into. That’s not leadership; that’s recklessness.”

The boys fell silent, and Archer could see the weight of his words settling in. “Now, I need you all to leave,” he said, his tone brokering no argument. “I need to talk to your Papa.”

For once, they complied without question, filing out of the room, leaving Archer and Rosinante alone.

Archer turned toward Rosinante, his heart heavy as he slipped into his sleeping clothes, the fabric feeling like a shroud. “We’ve had this conversation before, Rosi,” he began, voice taut. “You promised me you wouldn’t keep things from me. But here we are, and you’ve broken that promise. You’re cutting me out.”

Rosinante’s brow furrowed, but Archer didn’t let him respond. “I feel like you’re treating me like I’m fragile, like I can’t handle the truth. I deserve to know what’s going on, especially when it involves our crew. And jeopardizing their lives without any warning? That’s unacceptable.”

The room felt charged with unspoken emotions, and Archer clenched his jaw, fighting back the swell of anger and hurt. “I love you, Rosi,” he said, his voice softening despite the tumult within him. “But right now? Right now, I’m so angry and hurt.”

Rosinante opened his mouth, but Archer held up a hand. “No. The crew of the Silence does not move an inch before I say so. If I join this mission, it’s for the boys. I need to know that you’re not going to make decisions behind my back anymore.”

Rosinante’s gaze dropped to the floor, shame flickering across his features. “Archer, I—”

“Don’t,” Archer interrupted, holding up a finger. “Don’t make excuses. I need you to understand how serious this is. You’re not just putting yourself at risk; you’re putting our entire family in danger, the boys, the crew. And that’s something I can’t just sit back and accept.”

Silence hung between them, heavy and thick. Archer felt the ache in his chest, the worry clawing at his insides. He needed Rosinante to understand. They were partners in this, and it couldn’t just be Rosinante’s call anymore.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Rosinante met his gaze, his eyes filled with determination. “I won’t hide things from you anymore, Archer. I promise. I just… I thought I was protecting you.”

“By lying to me?” Archer shot back, frustration bubbling over. “That’s not protection. That’s betrayal.”

“I know,” Rosinante admitted, voice barely above a whisper. “I’m sorry. I’ll do better. Just please, don’t give up on us.”

Archer pointed a finger at Rosinante, his expression serious. “You’ve got one chance, Rosi. One chance only. Tomorrow morning, we gather all three crews: the Heart Pirates, the Straw Hats, the Roaring Pirates—everyone. Everyone gets a say in the planning. No ifs, no buts. If we can’t do that, then me and the Silence sit this one out.”

Rosinante nodded, a look of determination settling on his face. “I’ll inform Luffy and Law. We’ll make it happen,” he promised, his voice steady.

“And don’t forget Ace,” Archer added, his tone softening just a touch. “We planned to make him the Vice Captain of the Silence, right? He deserves to be in on this too.”

“Of course,” Rosinante replied. “I’ll let him know.”

“Good,” Archer said, relief washing over him. “And when you’re done with all that, join me in bed. For sleep only.”

Rosinante smiled, a glimmer of warmth returning to his eyes. “I’ll be there,” he assured, before leaning down to press a soft kiss to Archer’s forehead. “Thank you for trusting me again. I won’t take it for granted.”

Archer felt a flutter in his chest as he watched Rosinante leave the cabin. 

Chapter Text

Even though Archer was still pissed at Rosinante, he had to admit—he loved the bastard. No matter how much they fought or how angry he got, there was something about Rosi that always pulled him back in. Maybe it was those damn soft kisses, or the way Rosi looked at him like he was the only person in the world that mattered.

Dragging himself into bed, exhausted from the emotional whirlwind of the day, Archer barely had time to settle before Rosinante wrapped him in a warm embrace from behind. He felt the familiar press of Rosi’s lips against his neck, the gentle nuzzle in his hair. It was comforting, but Archer wasn’t about to melt just yet.

“Still mad at me?” Rosinante asked quietly, his voice muffled by Archer’s hair.

Archer grunted, trying to stay annoyed. “You know damn well I am,” he replied, his voice low. “Doesn’t mean I don’t love you.”

Rosinante chuckled softly. “I’ll take what I can get, then.” He pulled Archer closer, and for a moment, neither of them spoke. The silence was thick, but not uncomfortable.

Rosinante sighed, burying his face in the crook of Archer’s neck. “Raya smacked me today,” he mumbled, sounding more amused than upset. “She smacked me and the boys. Called us idiots, insensitive assholes, and… a lot more.”

Archer couldn’t help but grin, despite himself. He turned over to face Rosinante, raising an eyebrow. “Oh, that’s who she hit?” he said with a smirk. “I heard the smack, but I wasn’t sure who the unlucky bastard was. Guess now I know.”

Rosi chuckled softly, rubbing the spot on his arm where he’d probably gotten whacked. “She’s got a hell of a right hook.”

“She’s not wrong, you know,” Archer said, his smirk fading into something more serious. “You all are a bunch of idiots.” He jabbed Rosi lightly in the chest, his eyes narrowing. “And you deserved that smack. Maybe I should’ve been the one to do it.”

Rosinante winced playfully, catching Archer’s hand and holding it against his chest. “I know, I know… We’ve been reckless. But we’re trying to make things right.”

Archer exhaled deeply, his gaze shifting away as he gathered the courage to speak. “I had a panic attack after I told the boys about… almost being raped,” he said, his voice low but steady. “Raya found me. She dragged me into her cabin and calmed me down. Got me breathing again when I thought I couldn’t. I owe her so much, Rosi. I don't know what I would've done without her.”

Rosinante's brow furrowed, and he tightened his grip around Archer, pulling him even closer. “I’m sorry you had to go through that,” he whispered, his breath warm against Archer's neck. “You should never have had to deal with any of that… alone.”

Archer shook his head, trying to push down the lingering shame that had surfaced with the memory. “I don’t feel like I’m alone, not anymore. Especially after talking with Raya. She gets it, you know? She’s been through her own hell.”

Rosinante nodded, but there was a tension in his body that Archer could feel. “What happened after I stormed out of the galley?” Archer asked, sensing that something more had gone down after his exit.

Rosi sighed heavily, his chest rising and falling with the weight of it. “The boys… they started asking questions, a lot of them. I tried to brush it off at first, but after what you said, there wasn’t much point in keeping things from them anymore. So… I told them everything. I told them what Doflamingo did to you.”

Archer’s breath hitched, and he turned his head sharply to look at Rosinante, his golden eyes blazing with a mix of surprise and anger. “Everything?” His voice was taut, almost dangerous.

Rosinante nodded slowly, his expression somber. “Yeah… everything. They needed to know, Archer. Especially after what you told them. Luffy, Law, and Ace—they deserved the truth. And if they’re going to take on Doflamingo, they need to understand just what kind of monster we’re dealing with.”

Archer gritted his teeth, feeling the burn of anger mixing with a sense of vulnerability. He wasn’t sure if he wanted the boys to know all of that, but at the same time, maybe it was better they did. “How… how did they take it?” he finally asked, his voice quieter, almost unsure.

Rosinante sighed again, brushing a thumb over Archer’s knuckles as if grounding him. “They were furious. I’ve never seen them like that before, not even Luffy. They wanted to go after Doflamingo right then and there.”

Archer let out a bitter chuckle. “Of course they did. Damn idiots, all of them.”

“They love you, Archer,” Rosinante said softly, his hand moving up to cup the side of Archer’s face. “They’re not going to stand by and let something like that happen to you again.”

Archer closed his eyes, leaning into Rosi’s touch. “I know… but I didn’t want them to carry this burden. It’s mine.”

Rosinante kissed his forehead gently. “You don’t have to carry it alone anymore. Not with me, not with them.”

Archer could feel the tension radiating off Rosinante’s body. Concerned, he turned slightly in Rosinante's arms and asked, “What’s wrong?”

Rosinante hesitated for a moment before letting out a heavy sigh, his eyes clouded with guilt. “I failed you,” he murmured, his voice thick with regret. “I wasn’t there when you had your panic attack… I wasn’t there when you needed me.”

Archer frowned, his golden eyes searching Rosinante’s face. “Rosi, what are you talking about? You didn’t fail me.”

“I should have been there for you, Arch,” Rosinante continued, his voice tight as he stared at the ceiling. “You were dealing with all that, and I was too caught up in everything else. I didn’t see what was happening, didn’t realize how much it was affecting you. You had to go through that alone, and I—”

“Hey, stop,” Archer interrupted, placing a firm hand on Rosinante’s chest, feeling the rapid thump of his heart beneath his palm. “You didn’t fail me, okay? You couldn’t have known I was going to lose it like that. Hell, I didn’t know I was going to lose it.”

Rosinante's face twisted with frustration, his jaw clenched. “But I should have known, Archer. I’m your partner—I’m supposed to be there for you, no matter what. And I wasn’t.”

Archer softened, his initial irritation fading. He hated seeing Rosinante beating himself up over something that wasn’t his fault. “Rosi, listen to me,” he said, his voice steady. “You don’t have to be there for me every second of the day. I’m not made of glass. You didn’t fail me just because you weren’t there in that exact moment.”

Rosinante met Archer’s gaze, his eyes filled with doubt. “But you were hurting, and I—”

“And Raya was there,” Archer cut in gently. “She helped me when I needed it, and that’s enough. You don’t have to carry every burden alone. That’s not how this works.”

There was a long pause as Rosinante processed Archer’s words, the tension in his shoulders slowly beginning to ease. “I just… I don’t want to let you down,” he whispered, his vulnerability laid bare.

Archer sighed and leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to Rosinante’s lips. “You don’t let me down, Rosi. You never have. You’re always here when it matters most. That’s all I need from you.”

Rosinante blinked, the guilt in his eyes slowly giving way to something softer. “I don’t deserve you,” he muttered, his voice thick with emotion.

Archer smirked, lightly flicking Rosinante’s forehead. “Damn right you don’t, but you’re stuck with me anyway.” He shifted back into Rosi’s arms, snuggling closer. “Now stop worrying, and get some sleep.”

Rosinante smiled weakly, his arms tightening around Archer. “Alright,” he whispered, finally allowing himself to relax. “I love you, Archer.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Archer grumbled playfully, closing his eyes. “I love you too, you big idiot.”

The next day, tension on the deck of the Thousand Sunny was thick as the crews gathered, filling the air with a mix of curiosity, excitement, and a lot of uncertainty. The Heart Pirates, the largest crew present, sat to the right, their presence imposing. The Straw Hats were front and center, chaotic as ever. On the left, the Roaring Pirates—Archer's own crew—sat quietly, their Captain's unreadable expression spoke volumes.

Archer sat with his crew, arms crossed, golden eyes fixed on the four figures standing in front of the assembled teams: Ace, Rosinante, Law, and Luffy. His posture was casual, but the hard set of his jaw and the fire in his eyes betrayed his inner conflict. He wasn’t sold on the idea of taking on Kaido—he never cared for larger-than-life schemes that would put his crew in the crossfire of someone else's battle. But Doflamingo? That was a fight he’d gladly join.

Law began explaining the plan, his voice steady as he outlined their strategy to take down Doflamingo. He detailed how they would use Caesar Clown as leverage, force Doflamingo to step down as a Warlord, and dismantle his inner circle. The final blow would be turning Kaido against him—a gamble, but one that could shift the balance of power in their favor.

Questions started flying almost immediately. Jean Bart, representing the Heart Pirates, asked about the structure of the mixed teams, wanting clarity on who would be partnered with whom. Robin, inquired about the key figures within Doflamingo’s inner circle and their strengths. It was Gin, surprisingly enough, who raised the more practical concern from the Roaring Pirates' side.

“What’s the fallout plan?” Gin asked, his usually gruff voice laced with worry. “What happens when this all goes to hell? Is every crewmember going to have a say, or are we just following orders?”

Archer, who had been sitting quietly up until that point, uncrossed his arms and sat forward slightly, his gaze sharp. His voice cut through the murmurs, low and serious. “I’ve got a question for you all,” he began, locking eyes with the four at the front. “Have you already made your teams? Who's going where, and doing what? Because I want to know.”

The crews went quiet, the weight of Archer’s words hanging in the air. Luffy, Law, and Rosinante looked at him with wide eyes, while Ace glanced nervously between Archer and the rest of the group, sensing the storm brewing beneath his dad's words.

“I’m still not sold on this plan,” Archer continued, his voice rising slightly. “And if my crew isn’t either, then the Roaring Pirates will sit this one out. That means Ace and Rosinante will be the only ones from my crew standing by your side.”

A shocked silence followed his statement, the Heart Pirates and Straw Hats staring at Archer in disbelief. Luffy’s eyes were wide, and even Law showed a flicker of concern. Rosinante’s jaw clenched, his gaze shifting toward Archer, but Archer didn’t meet his eyes.

“I’m not about to sacrifice a single drop of my crew’s blood for a half-baked plan,” Archer said, his voice hard and resolute. “So if you want us in, you’re going to have to do better than vague promises and half-formed ideas. Everyone on the Silence has a voice in this, and they’ll have their say before we join.”

The silence lingered for a beat before murmurs started again, but Archer’s sharp gaze kept anyone from speaking up. He leaned back, arms crossed again, daring anyone to challenge him.

Rosinante finally broke the silence, his voice calm but tense. “We’ll make sure everyone’s voice is heard,” he promised, nodding slowly. “We’re not moving forward unless the crews are in full agreement.”

Law stepped forward. “We’re not rushing into this, dad. But we need everyone onboard if we’re going to take down Doflamingo. That includes the Roaring Pirates. We’ll lay out the details, and everyone will know exactly what they’re getting into.”

Archer gave a curt nod, his expression unreadable. “Good. Then we’ll see what the Silence says. But I’ll say this once—if this plan is as shaky as it sounds, don’t expect the Silence to go along with it. We’re not pawns in anyone’s game.”

With that, Archer leaned back, his arms still crossed, and waited. The next steps were up to them.

Law began outlining the teams, the atmosphere shifted from uncertainty to purpose. He spoke with a calm authority, breaking down the roles and responsibilities that would shape their assault on Doflamingo.

“Team One will focus on infiltration,” Law announced, glancing at Archer. “Leader: Archer. Members: Timble, Penguin, Usopp, and Nami. Your job will be to slip in unnoticed and gather intel.”

Archer just looked at them, not giving anything away.

“Team Two will handle disruption,” Law continued, his eyes moving over the crowd. “Leader: Ace. Members: Nugget, Zoro, Sanji, Sachci, Giles, and Gin. You’ll create chaos and distract Doflamingo’s forces.”

“Team Three is for chaos,” Law said, a hint of amusement in his voice. “Leader: Luffy. Members: Bepo, Brook, Franky, and Jean Bart. You’ll be the wild card—expected to keep Doflamingo's attention.”

Luffy’s excitement bubbled to the surface, his trademark grin wide as he punched a fist into his palm, ready to charge into battle.

“Finally, Team Four is the Heart team,” Law concluded. “Leader: myself and Rosinante. Members: Chopper, Robin, and Raya. We’ll coordinate the entire operation and ensure everyone stays connected.”

With the teams assigned, Archer stood up, his crew instinctively following his lead without him needing to say a word. He could feel their support like a warm blanket, bolstering him as he stepped forward.

“Sanji,” Archer said, turning to the cook, “do you mind if we use your galley for thirty minutes?”

Sanji looked a bit startled but nodded slowly, his eyes wide. “Uh, sure. Just don’t make a mess!”

“Promise,” Archer replied, a genuine smile breaking through his serious facade. He appreciated Sanji’s willingness to cooperate, especially when tempers could flare easily among the crews.

Once in the galley, Archer turned to his team—Raya, Giles, Timble, Nugget, and Gin. He met each of their eyes, gauging their readiness. “I want to know if you’re all in. If even one of you says no, we don’t join this plan. No pressure. Just be honest.”

The crew exchanged glances, murmurs rising as they contemplated the decision. Archer could feel the weight of his words settle in the air. They appreciated the chance to have a say, something he knew they often lacked on other ships.

Finally, Timble stepped forward, a confident smile on his face. “I’m in, Archer. I want to help take down Doflamingo.”

“I’m with you, Captain,” Giles added, his eyes sparkling with eagerness. Gin nodding beside him.

Raya crossed her arms but couldn’t hide her smile. “I’ll follow you anywhere, you know that.”

Archer’s heart swelled with pride. “All right then,” he said, feeling a sense of warmth spread through him. “Let’s head back.”

When they returned to the deck, Archer found the Heart Pirates and Straw Hats waiting, their expressions a mix of fear and respect. He met their gaze with a steady nod, signaling that his crew was officially onboard.

They were in this together, and there would be no turning back now.

Without another word, the crew of the Roaring Pirates—minus Ace and Rosinante—began to leave the Thousand Sunny. They walked back to the Silence in silence, each member deep in thought, processing the gravity of the situation ahead. Archer took one last glance back at the Straw Hats and Heart Pirates before stepping aboard his ship.

Once back on the Silence, Archer led Raya into his and Rosinante’s cabin. Once the door was closed behind them, he turned to her, curiosity glimmering in her eyes. “Do you know how to color hair?” he asked, keeping his voice low, as if the walls might have ears.

Raya frowned, clearly taken aback. “What for?” she asked, crossing her arms over her chest.

“I’m too recognizable,” he said, running a hand through his hair, the golden strands shimmering in the dim light. “With my hair and eyes, and there’s no way in hell I’m letting Doflamingo catch me again. So, while we’re in Dressrosa, I need to change my appearance.”

Her expression shifted as she considered his words. Finally, she nodded. “Alright, wait here!” Without another word, she dashed back to her cabin.

About ten minutes later, Raya returned, a small bag in hand. “Got it!” she exclaimed, pulling out a set of dye and a couple of colored contacts. She approached him with a grin, the playful spark in her eyes returning.

As she started mixing the dye, she teased, “You’ll look like an older clone of Ace when I’m done!”

Archer couldn’t help but smile at that. “Yeah, I guess that’s true.”

Once the dye was ready, Raya began applying it to his hair. Archer closed his eyes, allowing himself to relax a bit as she worked. When she finally announced that they were done, he stepped in front of the small mirror in the cabin, taking a moment to absorb the change. His hair was now a deep, ink black, stark against the pale skin and freckles of his face.

Raya chuckled, her amusement infectious. “You really do look like a older version of him.”

Archer grinned at her, but then his smile faded slightly. “Can you… can you help me cut my hair too?” he asked, his voice small as he thought about Doflamingo’s hands grasping his locks. “Just a little? Enough that people won’t connect me to my old self?”

Raya paused, assessing him closely. “Are you sure about this?” she asked, her brow furrowing with concern.

He sighed, nodding. “Yeah. Just enough, please. I can’t take any chances.”

With a nod, Raya took a pair of scissors from her bag. “Alright, sit down. I won’t take off too much, I promise.”

As she began to snip away, Archer felt the weight of his decision. Each lock that fell away felt like shedding a part of his old self—an old self that Doflamingo had come too close to calming. And in that moment, with each cut, Archer felt a strange mix of fear and freedom.

After Raya left, Archer found himself alone in the cabin, the remnants of his transformation scattered across the floor. He bent down, picking up the locks of hair, each one a golden reminder of the past he was trying to escape. It felt surreal not seeing the familiar blond strands in the mirror anymore. His new hair, now only reaching right under his jaw, framed his face differently—more mature, maybe even a bit intimidating.

Once he finished cleaning up, Archer stepped out onto the deck, seeking the solace of the open air. He grabbed a beer from the cooler, the cold metal refreshing against his palm, and lit a cigarette, the smoke curling around him like a familiar cloak. He walked to the mast and settled down against it, sinking into the moment.

As he took a drag, he gazed out at the horizon, the ocean stretching endlessly before him. The sun was beginning to dip, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink. It was beautiful, almost peaceful.

Raya joined Archer on the deck, her bottle of rum in hand. She settled beside him, the familiar sound of waves lapping against the hull wrapping them in a comforting embrace. They sat in complete silence for a few minutes, each lost in their thoughts, until Archer finally broke the stillness.

“Can I ask you a very personal question?” he ventured, his voice low and hesitant.

“Hit me,” Raya replied, her expression open and encouraging.

Archer took a deep breath, choosing his words carefully. “How did you find the strength to be intimate again after what happened on the slave ship? I—I have no idea how to breach that problem, and I’m looking for advice.”

Raya’s smile softened as she considered his question. “Before I met Penguin, I swore I’d never have sex again. I was so messed up. But he was so fucking patient and sweet, never pressured me. Then one day, I was ready.”

Archer nodded, feeling a weight lift off his shoulders. “Rosi is the same way,” he admitted.

Raya grinned, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Oh, Rosi? That giant noodle? Totally!”

They both erupted into laughter, the tension between them dissipating like the smoke from Archer’s cigarette.

But their moment was interrupted by a voice behind them. “What the fuck have you done to your hair?”

Archer turned to see Rosinante and Ace standing there, eyebrows raised in disbelief. Archer braced himself, ready to defend his choice. “I’m easily recognizable. I told Raya the same,” he explained, his tone more defensive than he intended.

Without waiting for their reaction, he stormed down into his cabin, feeling a mix of frustration and anxiety swirling inside him. He didn’t want to deal with their judgment right now.

Rosinante followed closely behind, concern etched across his face. As Archer entered the cabin, Rosinante stepped in and hugged him tightly, his arms wrapping around Archer’s shoulders. “You look good,” he said softly, pulling back slightly to meet Archer’s gaze. “I was just surprised, that’s all.”

Archer looked up into Rosinante's eyes, and a genuine smile broke across his face, lighting up the dim room. It felt good to hear that, to have that warmth and reassurance during everything. “Thanks,” Archer said, his voice tinged with relief. “I just—needed a change.”

Rosinante nodded, still holding him close. “I get it. Just don’t scare me like that again, okay? You know I’m not great with surprises.”

Archer chuckled softly, his heart swelling at Rosinante's concern. “I promise, no more drastic changes without a heads-up.”

Rosinante pulled back slightly, a playful smirk dancing on his lips. “You know, all the Heart Pirates and Straw Hats are scared shitless of you,” he said, his tone teasing yet earnest. “The way you handled that meeting? Pure intimidation.”

Archer threw his head back and laughed, a bright, genuine sound that echoed in the small cabin. “I’m done fooling around,” he said, wiping a tear of mirth from the corner of his eye. “I underestimated Doflamingo once, and I’ll never make that mistake again. He’s not just a Warlord; he’s a monster.”

Rosinante’s smile faded slightly, the weight of their shared fears sinking back in. But then, without warning, Rosinante leaned down, capturing Archer’s face between his hands and kissing him with all the fervor he could muster. The kiss was soft yet filled with an urgency that sent shivers down Archer’s spine.

Archer melted into the kiss, his earlier tension dissipating as he lost himself in the warmth of Rosinante’s embrace.

Chapter Text

Archer dragged himself into the galley of the Silence the next morning, still half-asleep and sporting a serious case of bedhead. His newly cropped hair was sticking up in all directions, a wild mess of black curls that he hadn’t quite gotten used to yet.

Ace was already sitting at the table, sharpening his hunting knife with a focused expression. When he saw Archer enter, a mischievous grin spread across his face. “Well, well, look at you. Now that you’ve cut your hair, you’ve got some serious curls going on, old man.”

Without missing a beat, Archer smacked him lightly upside the head, narrowing his eyes in mock offense. “Jealous, huh? Can’t handle the fact that your old man still looks more handsome than you?”

Ace’s grin faltered, and he shot Archer an indignant look, but it was clear he was holding back a laugh. “Oh, come on—” he started, but Archer cut him off with a smirk, enjoying the rare moment of having the upper hand in their banter.

Just then, Rosinante entered the galley, a lazy smile on his face as he leaned over and ruffled Archer’s hair. “Morning, beautiful,” he teased, his voice low and playful. “I gotta say, this new look suits you. Hot, but I’m looking forward to when it’s blond again.”

Archer rolled his eyes, feeling the warmth of Rosinante’s touch as his fingers combed through his curls. “You and me both,” he muttered, trying to tame his unruly hair with one hand. “Black hair’s fine, but I don’t feel like myself.”

Rosinante chuckled, dropping a kiss on the top of Archer’s head before grabbing a seat next to him. “I’ll admit,” he said, settling into his chair, “I miss your golden locks. But I get why you did it.”

Archer gave him a sidelong glance, his expression softening as he nodded. “Yeah. Doflamingo’s not getting a second shot at me. I won’t make it easy for him this time.”

Just as Archer, Ace, and Rosinante were getting into the zone, the rest of the crew started filing into the galley. Archer immediately noticed Raya strutting in with her signature smirk, a large pile of clothes in her arms. She was back at it again—handing out uniforms. Archer groaned inwardly, knowing he was in for it. Last time, she'd given him that damn turtleneck, and he’d barely lived it down.

Sure enough, when she tossed him his outfit, Archer caught it and unfolded it with a sigh. It was another turtleneck—this time a T-shirt version, though—along with a pair of black pants. He stared at it for a moment, resisting the urge to throw it back at her. His lips parted, about to voice his protest when he caught the sharp glint in Raya’s eyes.

She was giving him "the look."

That one, unspoken warning that sent shivers down the spine of even the most hardened pirate. Archer wisely shut his mouth and grumbled under his breath instead, holding up the shirt like it was a death sentence.

Raya grinned triumphantly. “See, wasn’t so hard, was it?” she said, patting him on the shoulder like he was a well-behaved puppy.

He muttered something incoherent, but she had already moved on to the others. That’s when Archer noticed Ace, standing in front of the mirror, checking out his own "disguise." Archer did a double-take. His son was wearing a full-blown suit. Not just any suit, either—Ace had gotten tailored black suit complete with a fake beard and sunglasses.

Ace turned around with a shit-eating grin, adjusting his fake beard. “What do you think, old man? Looks good, right?”

Archer blinked at him, at a complete loss for words. “What the hell...?” was all he could manage.

Before he could start a full rant, he noticed the rest of Ace’s team—Zoro, Sanji, Giles, and the others—each decked out in their own ridiculous versions of suits, with fake beards slapped onto their faces, sunglasses barely clinging to their noses. It was like a pirate-themed espionage disaster.

Archer glanced sideways at Rosinante, his eyes wide, silently begging for help, some sort of intervention. But Rosinante just smiled at him, clearly amused by the chaos. His broad shoulders shook as he barely held back his laughter. “Sorry,” Rosi whispered, giving Archer a quick wink. “You’re on your own with this one.”

Archer groaned and muttered something about “how the hell does Ace manage to look like that and still be intimidating?” before deciding to make a strategic retreat. He didn’t trust himself not to explode at the sight of fake beards any longer.

“I’m heading outside. Someone has to have some dignity,” he grumbled, storming toward the door and giving Ace one last incredulous look.

As he stepped out onto the deck, the fresh air hit him, calming his growing frustration. He stood there, waiting for the rest of the Straw Hats and Heart Pirates to arrive, feeling a mixture of embarrassment and disbelief at his son’s idea of going incognito. He lit a cigarette, taking a long drag and blowing the smoke into the crisp morning air, hoping that by the time the others showed up, they wouldn’t notice the absurdity he was stuck with.

At least his outfit was slightly less ridiculous than Ace’s. He could live with the turtleneck, he supposed. For now.

As the crews gathered on deck, the air felt charged with a sense of purpose. The final briefing was about to start, and Archer stood at the edge of the group, observing the teams Law and Rosinante had assigned. Each group huddled together, discussing strategies and making sure their roles were clear. His own team—Timble, Penguin, Usopp, and Nami—stood nearby, awaiting the signal to move out as night fell. Archer felt the familiar, calm readiness settle in his gut.

His eyes wandered over to the others when something small and out of place caught his attention. A little kid clung to Robin’s leg like his life depended on it. Archer narrowed his eyes and made his way over to her, curious.

"Oi, Robin," he said, tilting his head toward the kid. "Did you spawn or something?" The question was half-serious, half-joking, but before Robin could respond, Archer felt a sharp smack land on the back of his head.

“Idiot!” Nami’s voice rang out. “That’s Momonosuke. We saved him and his dad from Punk Hazard.” She huffed, crossing her arms over her chest.

Archer rubbed the back of his head, wincing. “Saved him, huh? And who’s the dad?”

“Kin’emon,” Nami said matter-of-factly. “You know, the talking head Sanji carried around. He’s back in one piece now.”

Archer stared for a moment, processing that. He shook his head, muttering something about “weird shit happening on that fucking island” before crouching down to the boy’s level. Momonosuke stared up at him with wide eyes, clearly taking in every detail of Archer’s face.

“Hey, kid,” Archer said, holding out his hand with a warm smile. “Name’s Archer. I’m these idiots’ dad.” He jerked his thumb in the general direction of Luffy, Ace, and Law.

Momonosuke hesitated for a second before gripping Archer’s hand. “I’ve heard of you,” he said quietly, awe creeping into his voice. “Are you really… their dad?”

Archer’s grin widened as he ruffled the boy’s hair. “Yup. Luffy, Ace, and Law. All mine. Lucky me, huh?”

Momonosuke’s eyes grew even larger as he continued, “And is it true that you’re the… Golden Terror?”

At that, Archer couldn’t help but smirk, a mischievous gleam lighting up his eyes. “Yeah, kid. That’s me.”

Momonosuke stared at him like he was a living legend. Archer chuckled, enjoying the moment. He couldn’t resist leaning in a bit, his tone dropping conspiratorially. “But between you and me, I’m not nearly as terrifying as they say. That’s mostly rumors… mostly.”

The kid’s eyes were practically sparkling now, clearly fascinated. Archer stood back up, stretching his arms overhead with a relaxed sigh.

“You hang tight, alright? We’ve got some serious business ahead,” he said, patting Momonosuke on the head one last time before turning to head back to his team. As he walked away, he heard the kid whisper to Robin, “He’s so cool!”

Archer smirked to himself, feeling a little lighter before the mission.

The wait was killing him. Time seemed to drag on, every second feeling like an eternity. Archer hated this part—the calm before the storm, where the only thing left to do was wait for nightfall and get the operation rolling. It gnawed at his patience, the restlessness curling inside his gut like a coiled spring.

He sighed heavily and made his way back to the cabin, figuring that distracting himself with a book was the best way to pass the time without pacing a hole into the deck. Tossing himself onto the bed, he grabbed a worn paperback from the nightstand. Some novel Giles had recommended, though for the life of him, Archer couldn’t remember the title. Not that it mattered much; his mind was already drifting to the mission.

As he thumbed through the pages, his thoughts kept wandering back to the shit that was sure to unfold. They had a good plan on paper, sure, but when did things ever go exactly as planned with this group? He thought about the disguises, the infiltration, the covert ops. He could already imagine Ace blowing their cover, either by setting something on fire or picking a fight.

A smirk pulled at his lips at the thought. Yeah, his money was definitely on Ace screwing things up first.

He had a running bet going with Nami, Raya, and Jean Bart over which of their team members would be the first to blow their cover. Archer had confidently thrown his bet behind Ace—his fire-loving, hotheaded son was a wildcard, and it wouldn’t take much for him to snap. Nami had placed her bet on Zoro, which Archer could understand; the guy was hopeless when it came to directions, and it was only a matter of time before he wandered into the wrong place at the wrong time. Raya had her money on Law, and that he would snap when all his plans went to shit. And Jean Bart? Well, Jean Bart had simply shrugged and placed his bet on Luffy, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Archer chuckled, shaking his head. “Ace, you’re gonna make me rich,” he muttered to himself.

As Archer lay on the bed, pretending to read while his mind drifted elsewhere, the door creaked open, and in strolled Rosinante. He didn’t say a word—just threw himself onto the bed with the grace of a falling boulder. The sheer force of it nearly launched Archer off the mattress entirely.

“Oi!” Archer yelped, scrambling as the edge of the bed loomed dangerously close. But before he could go tumbling to the floor, Rosi’s hand shot out, grabbing him by the ankle with reflexes quicker than Archer expected for someone of his size.

With a grumble, Archer was pulled back onto the bed. “Damn it, Rosi! You almost sent me flying!” he yelled, not really mad but definitely startled.

Rosinante, already grinning like a fool, couldn’t help but chuckle. "Sorry, sorry," he said, though the apology was half-hearted at best. His voice was full of mischief, and his grin didn't show the slightest bit of remorse.

"You’re not sorry," Archer snapped back, glaring at him. “You’re just trying to kill me before this mission even starts!”

“Maybe,” Rosi teased, giving Archer a quick wink as he leaned back against the pillow, looking way too comfortable after the near catastrophe he’d caused.

That was the final straw. Archer’s annoyance shifted to something far more playful. "Oh, you think this is funny?" he growled, eyes narrowing.

Before Rosinante could respond, Archer pounced, throwing himself on top of Rosi and digging his fingers into his sides, tickling him with no mercy. Rosi’s eyes widened in surprise, his loud, deep laugh filling the cabin as he tried to squirm away.

“Ah—no, no, no! Archer, stop! Not this!” Rosinante pleaded between gasps of laughter, trying desperately to push Archer off, but his laughter only made him weaker. He buckled under the tickling assault, his long legs flailing uselessly as Archer grinned wickedly above him, enjoying every second.

“Oh, you want mercy now?” Archer mocked, tickling him harder. “Too bad!”

Rosinante was in full retreat now, gasping for air between uncontrollable bursts of laughter. “Please! Okay—okay, I’m sorry!” he begged, his voice breaking as tears of laughter streamed down his face.

“Too late for that!” Archer taunted, relentless in his attack. “You brought this on yourself, Rosi!”

But after a few more moments, even Archer had to admit defeat. He let up, grinning as Rosinante lay sprawled beneath him, catching his breath, his cheeks flushed red from all the laughing.

Archer finally stopped, sitting triumphantly on top of him with a smug grin. “That’s what you get for messing with me,” he said, looking down at Rosi’s flushed, slightly sweaty face.

Archer leaned down, his gaze softening as he met Rosinante’s eyes. There was a brief moment where neither of them moved, and then, without hesitation, Archer pressed his lips to Rosi’s in a slow, deliberate kiss. It started tenderly, as if savoring the moment, but soon enough, the urgency began to build between them.

One of Archer's hands roamed over Rosi’s chest, tracing the familiar muscles beneath the fabric, while his other hand cupped Rosinante's cheek, his thumb brushing gently over the stubble on Rosi’s jaw. Rosinante responded immediately, tilting his head up to kiss Archer back, his large hands coming to rest on Archer’s waist, pulling him closer.

The kiss deepened, the air between them thick with desire. Archer’s heart raced as the intensity grew, their bodies pressing together as if they couldn’t get close enough. Rosinante’s hand moved up to tangle in Archer’s curly black hair, pulling him in even further, his lips parting under Archer’s, letting the kiss become more fervent, more desperate.

There was no space between them now, and Archer could feel the heat of Rosi's skin beneath his fingertips as his hand roamed further, tracing the outline of his chest, his shoulders, every inch that he could reach. He could feel Rosi’s breath hitch, feel the way his body trembled ever so slightly as Archer's touch grew more insistent.

Archer felt a wave of desire ripple through him. He didn’t want to stop—didn’t want to pull away—but then Rosinante paused, breaking the kiss. His head pulled back slightly as he looked into Archer’s golden eyes, his own gaze full of concern.

“Are you sure?” Rosi asked softly, his voice steady but filled with care. There was no pressure in his words, only a genuine question, a desire to be certain.

For a moment, Archer was silent, his mind drifting back to the conversation he had with Raya the day before. She had told him about her own experiences—about how, when she was finally ready, it felt right. Penguin had been patient, never rushing her. And now, Archer realized he had that same kind of support with Rosinante, the same kind of care and patience.

And he knew—deep down—that he was ready.

With a soft smile, Archer leaned in again, his lips brushing Rosi’s ear as he whispered, “I’m sure.”

Rosinante's breath hitched slightly, and he looked into Archer’s eyes for just a moment longer, searching for any hint of doubt. But there was none. Archer’s gaze was firm, filled with warmth and certainty.

Archer moaned as Rosinante's skilled hands began to roam over his sensitive skin, leaving trails of fire in their wake. Rosinante's touch was both gentle and firm, his fingers tracing the contours of Archer's hips and thighs making him squirm with anticipation.

Pulling Archer to the end the bed, Rosinante positioned him on the edge, his long legs dangling over the side. He kneeled before Archer, his eyes locked on his lover's golden gaze. With tender care, he spread Archer's thighs, exposing the tight, pink pucker that was the center of his desire.

Rosinante leaned forward, placing soft kisses along Archer's inner thighs, making him shiver and moan. His tongue darted out, teasingly licking the sensitive skin, before finally reaching the bud of Archer's hole. He lapped at it, slowly preparing Archer, his breath hot against his skin.

Archer arched his back, pushing his ass towards Rosinante's face, craving more. Rosinante obliged, sliding a finger inside, scissoring and stretching, readying Archer for what was to come. The sensation of being filled, even slightly, sent pleasure coursing through Archer's body, and he couldn't help but rock his hips, seeking more pleasure.

Archer’s eyes were heavy with lust. With a gentle push, he urged Rosinante onto his back, their positions reversed. Now, Archer straddled Rosinante's muscular thighs, his hands resting on the firm chest beneath him. Slowly, deliberately, Archer lowered himself onto Rosinante's thick, erect cock.

He hissed as he took himself down, inch by inch, his muscles stretching to accommodate Rosinante's size. Archer's eyes never left Rosinante's, a silent communication of love passing between them. Once fully seated, Archer began to move, his hips rolling in a slow, sensual rhythm.

He set the pace, rising and falling, his muscles clenching around Rosinante's shaft. Rosinante's hands gripped Archer's thighs, guiding and supporting him as he rode his lover with a steady, controlled pace. The cabin filled with the sounds of their pleasure—the wet, slick sounds of their bodies joined together, Archer's moans of delight, and Rosinante's heavy breathing.

Archer leaned forward, his hands now braced on Rosinante's broad shoulders, his movements becoming more urgent, his muscles quivering with the effort. "Fuck, you feel so good," Archer panted, his eyes half-lidded with pleasure. "I want to feel you, all of you.”

Rosinante nodded. With a subtle shift, he urged Archer to lift himself up, and then with a powerful thrust, he drove back into him, filling Archer completely. Archer cried out, his head thrown back, his body accepting Rosinante's length.

He reveled in the sensation of being possessed, of being filled by the man he loved. Rosinante's hands gripped Archer's hips, holding him in place as he began to thrust, his movements becoming more insistent, more primal. Archer’s eyes rolling back as he surrendered to the pleasure. He moved with Rosinante, their bodies finding a rhythm. Their skin slapped together, their grunts and moans filling the cabin.

Then suddenly their door burst open, and Laws head peaked in, asking if they were there. When he saw them, he paled and quickly slammed the door closed again. Archer and Rosinante completely ignored him. Too busy as they neared the peak, Archer leaned down, capturing Rosinante's lips in a fierce kiss.

Archer's muscles tightened around Rosinante's cock, as he thrust up into him, seeking their mutual release. With a final, powerful thrust, they both cried out, their orgasms ripping through them. Archer's hole clenched around Rosinante's cock, squeezing him as he spilled his seed deep within Archer.

They stayed joined, their hearts pounding, their breaths ragged, until their trembling bodies stilled. Archer collapsed onto Rosinante's chest, his limbs heavy with satisfaction. He could feel Rosinante's heart thumping wildly beneath him, their bodies still entwined.

They lay there, content in the aftermath, the silence of the cabin broken only by their ragged breathing. "I love you," Archer whispered, his lips brushing against Rosinante's shoulder. "Always and forever."

Archer lay in the warm embrace of Rosinante, the remnants of their intimacy still buzzing in the air around them. He giggled softly, nudging Rosi playfully. “Do you think Law will be traumatized now that he walked in on us having sex?”

Rosi scoffed, his smile infectious. “The brat can learn to knock,” he replied with mock seriousness, and Archer couldn't help but laugh. The sound echoed in the cozy cabin, filled with an air of contentment that felt almost sacred.

“Yeah, but did you see the look on his face?” Archer mused, biting back another fit of giggles. “It was priceless!”

After a few moments of shared laughter, they reluctantly got up and dressed, the reality of their situation creeping back in. They needed to be focused for the plan ahead. As they emerged from their cabin, Archer took a deep breath, letting the salty sea air fill his lungs.

When they stepped onto the deck of the Silence, they were greeted by a scene that made Archer’s heart swell with a mix of pride and amusement. There, sitting together, were his sons—Law, Ace, and Luffy. All three of them appeared to be deep in conversation, but Archer noticed the subtle glances they threw their way. Law, especially, was doing his best to avoid eye contact, a deep blush coloring his cheeks.

Archer couldn't suppress the smirk that formed on his lips. “Stupid brats,” he muttered affectionately, nudging Rosinante in the side. “Look at them trying to act all mature.”

Rosi chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief. “I swear, you’d think they’d never seen two people in love before.”

“Guess they forgot to knock when their parents being all... you know,” Archer waved a hand dismissively, a teasing smile playing on his lips.

As they approached the trio, Law shifted uncomfortably, his gaze darting toward the ground as if it held all the answers. Ace was red as a tomato, his usual bravado nowhere in sight, while Luffy simply stared wide-eyed, clearly struggling to process the situation.

“What’s wrong, kids?” Archer asked, feigning innocence. “Did we interrupt something?”

Law’s face turned an even deeper shade of crimson, and he finally managed to stammer out, “W-we were just talking!”

“Uh-huh,” Archer replied, crossing his arms and leaning casually against the railing. “Talking about what? How to avoid walking in on your dads again?”

Ace groaned, burying his face in his hands. “Can’t we just pretend this isn’t happening?”

“Nope,” Archer said cheerfully, relishing their discomfort. “This is one for the books, boys. Family bonding at its finest!”

Luffy, ever the innocent one, looked between the three of them. “I don’t get it. Why are you guys laughing?”

Archer met Rosinante’s eyes, and they both burst into laughter again, the sound ringing out across the deck. “Oh, Luffy,” Archer said, shaking his head. “Just you wait. You’ll understand one day.”

Law groaned again, muttering something about wishing he could erase the last few minutes from his memory, while Ace shot a glare at Archer. “You’re the worst!”

“Hey, I’m just keeping it real!” Archer responded, finally relenting and dropping the teasing tone. “But seriously, just remember to knock, okay?”

As night cloaked Dressrosa in shadows, Archer moved with the silent grace of a predator. The rooftops felt like a second skin, each step calculated, every breath steady. Below, the city sprawled, unaware of the storm that was about to break. He could sense the tension in the air, a tight coil ready to snap.

Once he gathered his team, Archer’s voice cut through the stillness. “Stay sharp. We’re going in quick and clean.” His gaze flicked from Nami to Usopp and finally to Penguin, who nodded, understanding the gravity of the mission. The atmosphere hung heavy with unspoken fears, but Archer wasn’t here to entertain doubt.

As they traversed the rooftops, Archer dispatched the guards with cold efficiency, each body dropping silently into the dark. He felt the rush of adrenaline surge through him, a reminder of the stakes at hand.

They spotted an empty house tucked away in a narrow alley, its crumbling walls a perfect cover. Archer gestured sharply for them to follow, and they slipped inside, the door creaking softly behind them.

“Wait here for two hours,” Archer commanded, locking eyes with each of them. “I’ll take Timble with me. No noise. No movement. Understood?”

They nodded, faces taut with anticipation. Archer could see the mix of fear and courage in their eyes, but he needed them focused. “I mean it. Don’t blow this.”

He turned to Timble, who was bouncing with barely contained excitement. “You ready to take out some guards?” Archer asked, his voice low but firm.

Timble grinned, his small fists clenched tightly. “Yeah! Let’s do this!”

“Good,” Archer said, the corner of his mouth twitching in approval. “Follow my lead.”

With that, they slipped back into the darkness of the night. Archer’s senses heightened as they crept along the alleyways. Every shadow seemed to hold a guard; every sound could mean discovery. But they moved like ghosts, unseen and unheard.

As they rounded a corner, a pair of guards appeared, chatting lazily as they leaned against a wall. Archer signaled Timble to hang back. He moved closer, his heartbeat steady, the weight of the world resting on his shoulders.

He drew his weapon and stepped out of the shadows, a specter in the night. The guards turned, surprise flickering in their eyes. “What the—” one started, but Archer was faster.

A quick flick of the wrist and the guard crumpled to the ground, silence following. The second guard’s mouth opened in shock, but Archer was already upon him, swift and lethal. In mere moments, both were down, and the night returned to its hushed whisper.

Archer wiped his blade clean, his breath coming evenly. “That’s two down,” he murmured to Timble, who nodded. “Stay close.”

They continued, the moon their only witness as they moved through the heart of Dressrosa, dispatching guards with ruthless efficiency.

With each guard they took down, he thought of the others waiting to move out.

“Let’s keep going,”

Chapter Text

Archer and Timble slipped back into the hideout, the dim light casting long shadows across the room. Blood stained their clothes, their skin, but Archer didn’t flinch. It wasn’t the first time, and it sure wouldn’t be the last. This was the job. Get in, clear the way, get out. Simple as that.

He pulled his turtleneck over his head, tossing it aside without a second thought. The sticky feeling of drying blood was uncomfortable, but nothing he couldn’t handle. As he straightened up, his gaze landed on Usopp, Nami, and Penguin. Their wide eyes said it all.

Nami, her voice small and trembling, finally broke the silence. “How many... how many did you kill?”

Archer shrugged, not particularly phased by the question. “About 175. Give or take.”

Nami’s face turned pale, and she sank down onto a nearby crate, her hands shaking slightly. Usopp wasn’t much better—he looked like he might be sick. Even Penguin, who’d seen his fair share of battles, had a slight tremor in his hand.

Archer sighed, running a hand through his blood-matted hair. He squatted down in front of them, resting his arms on his knees, Timble perched on his shoulder, still buzzing from the adrenaline of the night.

“Listen,” Archer said, his voice soft but firm, like a teacher explaining a hard lesson. “I get it. This... this isn’t easy to swallow. But shit just got real, and I need all of you to understand that.” He paused, looking each of them in the eye. “That no-killing policy you guys are so fond of? It’s all fine and good in most situations. Hell, I’d prefer it too. But not here. Not with Doflamingo and Kaido in the mix.”

Nami stared at the floor, her hands clenched into fists. Usopp looked like he was still trying to process the number Archer had thrown out.

“This is why I was put in charge of team one,” Archer continued, his tone never wavering. “I’m not proud of what I do, but I’m damn good at it. That’s why Law, Ace, and Rosinante wanted me the rest of the Silence involved. We’re not here to sugarcoat things or pretend there’s another way out. We’re killers, plain and simple. And in this mission, we don’t have a choice.”

He turned his gaze to Penguin, locking eyes with him. “There’s a reason why there’s a Roaring Pirate on every team. We don’t hesitate. We can’t. When it’s life or death, we’re the ones who get it done.”

Penguin nodded, understanding the weight of those words, but still uneasy.

Archer softened his expression slightly, a small, almost fatherly smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “You really think they gave me the title ‘Golden Terror’ for shits and giggles? I earned that name when I was thirteen, after I leveled two Marine bases and killed more Marines than I could count.” He let the weight of his words sink in. “I’m a killer, sure. But I’m still human.”

The room was silent, the gravity of the situation hanging heavy in the air. Usopp shifted uncomfortably, finally finding his voice.

“It’s just... a tough reality check,” he said quietly. “Seeing you go from being the easy-going captain—Luffy’s dad—to this. It’s... it’s hard to reconcile.”

Archer smiled, this time more warmly, and reached out to clap Usopp’s shoulder. “I’m still the same man, Usopp. Don’t let this shake you. I’m not some mindless killer. I don’t enjoy this, but I do what has to be done. And when this mission is over, we’ll all go back to our lives. You’ll see.”

Usopp looked up at him, his face still pale but less scared now. Nami’s gaze softened, though the weight of what they’d just heard clearly lingered.

Archer stood up, brushing off his pants. “Alright. Team two and three will be on the move soon. Roads are clear. We’ve done our part. Now it’s up to them.”

He cracked his neck, rolling his shoulders as Timble jumped down from his perch, still grinning from ear to ear.

Archer stretched, feeling the weight of the night’s bloodshed still clinging to his muscles. His eyes felt heavy, and though his mind was still buzzing with the adrenaline, he knew he needed rest before the next phase.

“Penguin,” he called, rubbing the back of his neck, “wake me and Timble up in three hours. No more, no less. Got it?”

Penguin nodded, though there was a lingering unease in his eyes after the conversation they’d just had. But he trusted Archer, even if the reality of their situation hadn’t fully sunk in yet.

Archer turned to Timble, who was still jittery from the mission. “C’mon, little man. Let’s catch some sleep.”

Timble gave a quick nod and scrambled onto Archer’s shoulder as they found a spot in the corner of the hideout. Archer lay down, using his arm as a pillow, and Timble curled up beside him like a small, bloodstained cat.

Before closing his eyes, Archer gave one last look at Penguin, Usopp, and Nami. "Three hours," he repeated, his voice steady. "We still have work to do."

Archer jolted awake, the light in the room far too bright. He cursed under his breath, realizing the sun was high in the sky—midday. His instincts immediately flared up. This wasn’t right. He was supposed to be woken up hours ago.

His eyes scanned the hideout quickly, noting the absence of Usopp, Nami, and Penguin. No one else was there, just him and Timble, who was still groggily waking up beside him. His heart rate spiked as he noticed the only thing left behind—a note.

He snatched it up, his eyes narrowing as he read Nami’s handwriting.

"Went out to find some food. Be back soon."

"Stupid brats," he muttered, crumpling the note in his fist. The anger boiled under his skin. They went out, alone, in Dressrosa.

Archer paced back and forth, trying to cool the heat rising in his chest. “Dammit,” he growled, tossing the note aside. He knew better than anyone that this wasn’t a place for casual strolls or food runs. Something must’ve gone wrong. They wouldn’t be gone this long. His mind ran through the possibilities: they were captured, attacked, or worse.

Sighing, Archer plopped down on the floor, trying to calm himself. He waited, hoping against hope that they’d come waltzing back any minute now with some stupid excuse. But after an hour of tense silence, he knew he couldn’t wait any longer.

"They’re in trouble," Archer muttered. His instincts screamed at him to move.

Timble, who had been quietly sitting on Archer’s shoulder, nodded as if reading his mind.

Archer looked down at himself—bare-chested, his turtleneck from the night before stiff with dried blood. He couldn’t go out looking like this; it would raise all kinds of alarms. With a sigh, he looked at Timble. “Alright, little guy, I need a shirt. Think you can grab me something?”

Timble’s grin was back in an instant. He jumped off Archer’s shoulder with a quick nod, eager to help. “On it!” the little man whispered, already dashing out of the hideout before Archer could even finish the sentence.

Archer stood there, clenching his fists, his jaw tight. They had better be okay.

Now it was up to him and Timble to find them—and hope he didn’t have to kill half of Dressrosa to get them back.

Timble really pulled through this time. He returned with a bright red shirt, crisp and clean, and even a pair of sunglasses to hide Archer’s eyes. Archer smirked as he pulled the shirt over his head, adjusting the sunglasses. “Not bad, little man,” he muttered, tucking Timble into his chest pocket. “Let’s go.”

As they moved through the streets of Dressrosa, Archer couldn’t help but take in the surroundings. Beautiful city, shame about the tyrant running it. The vibrant colors, the lively markets, and the carefree laughter of the citizens—it almost made you forget the dark undercurrent of fear and control. For a moment, it was actually kind of nice to blend in, playing the role of a tourist, without anyone recognizing him as the infamous Golden Terror.

Stopping at a small food stand, Archer bought some quick bites for himself and a handful of strawberries for Timble. The vendor, a chatty older man, leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial tone.

"Hey, did you hear about all the killing last night? Over a hundred guards, dead!" The vendor’s eyes widened as if he was telling a ghost story.

Archer, his face the picture of fake shock behind the sunglasses, tilted his head. "No way. Did they catch the ones who did it?" His voice was laced with just the right amount of surprise, as if he hadn’t been knee-deep in blood only hours ago.

The vendor shook his head, looking over his shoulder like the killers might be lurking nearby. "Not yet! But people are saying it’s only a matter of time before they catch those monsters."

Archer smiled politely, dropping a few berries into Timble’s tiny hands. "Thanks for the heads-up," he said, walking away with a noticeable spring in his step.

Monsters, huh? Archer couldn’t help but smile as he stuffed his hands into his pockets, enjoying the breeze and the smell of street food. The sunglasses helped him blend in, and the shirt made him look like a regular traveler. It was amusing how easy it was to slip through the cracks unnoticed.

As they continued walking, something caught Archer’s eye—a massive building dominating the skyline, plastered with posters all over it. The Colosseum.

“Look at that,” Archer muttered. The posters advertised a grand event, with today’s prize being none other than a devil fruit. That certainly piqued Archer’s interest. A fruit like that could be the tipping point for anyone in this battle against Doflamingo and Kaido.

He stopped, staring at the posters for a moment before glancing down at Timble, who was still nibbling on his strawberries. “What do you think, Timble? Should we jump into the fight, or just watch from the stands?”

Timble grinned, excitement lighting up his tiny eyes. “Oh, let’s join! Maybe we can snag the prize!”

Archer chuckled, his earlier frustration replaced by a renewed sense of purpose. “Alright, let’s have some fun. If nothing else, maybe we’ll get a lead on where those idiots ran off to.” He adjusted his sunglasses and started walking toward the Colosseum, feeling a shift in the air.

Today, they’d either find some answers or stir up more trouble. Either way, Archer was ready.

It was almost ridiculous how easy it was to enter the competition. No background checks, no deep scrutiny—just give a name, and you’re in. Archer kept it simple, using the alias "Hunter"—his father’s name. No one would suspect a thing. The setup was unique too: block battles, where fighters were divided into groups to brawl it out. Huh, interesting system.

Archer found himself a quiet corner of the waiting area, away from the noisy crowd. He leaned back, enjoying a cold beer while Timble happily sipped his milk from a tiny cup. They sat in comfortable silence, content to watch the chaos unfold around them. The excitement of the upcoming battles buzzed through the air, but Archer was relaxed, as if he had no care in the world.

His moment of peace was interrupted when some green-haired guy with sharp teeth plopped down next to him. Archer raised an eyebrow but didn’t react otherwise. The guy, looking a bit wild but strangely approachable, flashed him a grin before striking up a conversation.

“Yo, you’re in this block too, huh? Name’s Bartolomeo,” he said casually, taking a swig of his own drink. “Captain of the Barto Club.”

Archer glanced over, sizing him up. Bartolomeo... Yeah, heard of him. The guy was a bit of a big deal in the underground circles, infamous for his unpredictability and brutal fighting style. But Archer wasn’t looking for trouble, and Bartolomeo seemed pretty laid-back for now.

“Hunter,” Archer replied, keeping his tone casual, though he had to fight the instinct to smirk at the name. “This is Paul,” he added, gesturing to Timble, who was comfortably sitting in his chest pocket, content with his milk.

Timble froze for a moment, glaring up at Archer with a look of pure betrayal. “Paul?” the tiny man hissed, giving Archer a sharp jab in the side. Paul? Really? He looked ready to protest further, but Archer shot him a quick wink, as if to say, "Just go with it."

Bartolomeo laughed, clearly amused by the duo. “Paul, huh? Cute. So, what brings you guys to the tournament? You here for the devil fruit too?”

Archer shrugged, taking another sip of his beer. “Something like that. Figured it might be a good way to pass the time.” He wasn’t about to reveal his true intentions—no need for anyone to know why he was really here, especially not with Doflamingo’s eyes everywhere.

Bartolomeo grinned again, clearly liking Archer’s vibe. “Fair enough. I’m here to wreck some faces and see what happens. You seem chill, though. Let’s hope we’re not in the same block, yeah?”

Archer chuckled under his breath, his eyes scanning the crowd. “Yeah. Let’s hope.” Though if we are, I doubt it’ll be you wrecking faces.

Timble muttered something under his breath, clearly still annoyed about the "Paul" thing, but Archer just ruffled his hair with a finger, calming him down.

As Bartolomeo continued talking, Archer leaned back in his seat, feeling oddly relaxed despite the chaos brewing around them. He had a plan, and for now, playing the part of "Hunter" was more than enough to keep the attention off his real identity.

For now, they were just another pair of strangers in the crowd. Exactly how Archer liked it.

Archer’s eyes narrowed as he processed what Bartolomeo had just told him. The Goro Goro no Mi, huh? Lightning powers... that could be quite the prize. His mind immediately wandered to Gin, wondering if his comrade might want it. It wasn’t Archer’s style to keep a devil fruit for himself. The thought of having someone as dangerous as Gin wielding lightning... now that was an idea worth musing over.

But his thoughts were abruptly cut short when a new competitor entered the arena. Archer blinked once, and then recognition hit him like a hammer. That fake beard... no way.

“Luffy.”

The little shit was here. Archer didn’t even have to think. Rising from his seat, he walked straight over to his son, who was standing there with the world’s worst disguise slapped on his face. Before Luffy could even react, Archer grabbed him by the scruff of his neck and dragged him towards a secluded corner.

“Oi! What the—” Luffy protested, flailing his arms like an irritated kid, which he basically was. But when he twisted around and saw Archer’s face, his protests immediately died down.

“Dad?!” Luffy’s eyes lit up, and he was about to yell when Archer swiftly clamped a hand over his mouth.

“Shut it,” Archer hissed, glaring at his son. He pulled Luffy closer into the shadows, eyes darting around to make sure no one had noticed. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

Luffy’s muffled protests continued under Archer’s hand until he finally let go. “What do you think I’m doing?” Luffy said, grin wide. “I’m gonna win the tournament! Get that devil fruit!”

Archer stared at him, trying not to rub his temples. Of course. Of course, Luffy was here for that.

“Have you seen Usopp, Nami, and Penguin?” Archer asked, his tone serious. He’d been worried about their whereabouts for a while now.

Luffy’s face shifted a bit, his smile faltering. “Yeah, they got chased. Usopp ran off with Robin, Nami went back to the Sunny, and Penguin... Penguin’s with Ace.”

At that, Archer nodded. At least they’re alive. His eyes studied Luffy’s face for a moment longer before he sighed, looking at the atrocious fake beard Luffy was wearing. “And who’d you steal the beard from?”

Luffy’s grin returned full force, and he giggled. “Giles!”

Archer groaned, rubbing his eyes. Of course, Giles. He could only imagine how that interaction had gone down. He didn’t even want to know.

“Listen,” Archer said, his voice low and firm. “While we’re here, you call me Hunter and this little guy—” he gestured to Timble, who was still sulking in his chest pocket, “—is Paul.”

“Paul?” Luffy repeated with a huge smile, clearly trying not to laugh.

Timble jabbed Archer in the ribs again. “I hate you,” he muttered under his breath.

“Shut up, both of you,” Archer said, exasperated. He then pointed at Luffy, narrowing his eyes. “And what’s your fake name?”

Luffy grinned even wider, if that were possible. “Lucy!”

Archer blinked. He couldn’t even process the stupidity of that name. “Lucy. Of course.”

I am so done with this kid. He shook his head, but before he could say more, the announcer’s voice boomed through the arena, calling out names for the next round.

“HUNTER AND PAUL!”

Archer straightened, his focus returning. He nodded at Luffy, clapping him once on the shoulder. “Take care, kid,” he muttered, giving a small nod to Timble.

With that, Archer turned and strode towards the battlefield, ready for the fight ahead.

Archer wiped a bit of blood from his cheek, glancing over at the aftermath of the fight. That was fun, he thought, cracking his neck. They had made it through the round with barely a scratch—well, at least he did. The others? Not so much. But Luffy had held his own. Archer couldn't help but feel a bit of pride seeing his youngest absolutely wreck the competition, even making a few new friends along the way.

Good kid. He always knew Luffy would have that effect on people.

But then there was her. The girl with pink hair and next to no clothes. Rebecca, she called herself, and for some reason, she’d latched onto Archer like a stray dog that wouldn’t leave. No matter how many times he told her flat out that he was gay, it didn’t seem to faze her in the slightest.

She just kept following him. Everywhere.

As he walked through the arena grounds, grabbing a quick drink from a vendor, he felt her eyes on him. And when he turned, sure enough, there she was. Right on his heels.

Luffy, who had been happily munching on some meat nearby, saw it all unfold and burst into laughter, pointing his drumstick at Archer like it was the funniest thing in the world.

"Oi, Dad! Looks like you got a fan!" Luffy grinned, his mouth full.

Archer shot his son a deadpan look, completely unamused. "Shut it, Lucy."

And then there was Timble, perched on Archer's shoulder, giggling like a damn schoolboy. “Yeah, Lucy,” Timble said mockingly, “looks like someone wants your attention.”

Archer’s patience was wearing thin. “I’ve told her five times I’m gay, and she still won’t leave.”

“Maybe she’s not into labels,” Timble snorted.

Archer groaned, glaring at both of them “Shut it Paul”. This was going to be a long day.

The only thing that saved his sanity was Bartolomeo. That guy had quickly become someone Archer could actually stand. He had no filter, no shame, and a wild personality that made him pretty damn fun to be around. Archer still chuckled thinking about the moment Barto had, without hesitation, just pissed right off the fighting ground, towards the stands during the fight. No care in the world.

“Epic,” Archer muttered under his breath, remembering the scene. A man after his own heart.

Barto swaggered over, grinning like an idiot as usual. “Yo, Hunter! We totally crushed that round, huh? You were amazing, man!”

Archer gave him a nod, a rare smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Not bad yourself, Bart. Though maybe next time, aim for the ground instead of the audience.”

Barto laughed, scratching the back of his head. “What can I say? It’s gotta come out somewhere, right?”

The two shared a laugh, and for a moment, Archer could almost forget about the pink-haired shadow following him. Almost.

But as he glanced to his side, there she was again, staring up at him with those big, expectant eyes.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” he muttered.

“Still there?” Barto asked, amused as he leaned in. “Man, she’s persistent.”

“Like a damn ghost,” Archer grumbled, shooting Rebecca a glare. “Look, I’ve already told you—I'm not interested. At all. Ever.”

Rebecca just smiled sweetly. “I know.”

Archer threw his hands up, exasperated. “Then why are you still following me?!”

She shrugged. “You seem like a good person.”

Luffy, still grinning like a fool, chimed in between bites, “She’s not wrong!”

Archer groaned, rubbing his temples. This whole tournament was becoming more trouble than it was worth. But hey, at least the fights were fun, and with Barto and Timble keeping things entertaining, maybe he'd survive this ordeal—pink-haired girl included.

Archer had decided to skip the final. He’d had his share of fun, and now he was more than happy to watch Luffy mop the floor with the competition, like a proud father at a sports day event. Kicking back in his seat with a beer in hand, he kept one eye open for Rebecca—still half expecting her to pop up out of nowhere—and the other on the arena, where the final fight was about to begin.

But just as he was starting to relax, a sudden blur came his way. Before Archer could even register what was happening, Luffy swooped in and slung him over his shoulder in one swift, reckless motion—one that was far too similar to how Rosinante did.

“What the—Luffy!” Archer roared, half-annoyed and half-impressed at his son’s sheer audacity. “What the hell are you doing?! Put me down!”

But Luffy just grinned, his eyes sparkling with mischief, and didn’t answer. He bolted through the crowd, weaving between the confused onlookers, as Archer yelled at him the whole way.

“Luffy! What the fuck—where are you taking me?” Archer barked, still bouncing on Luffy’s shoulder, trying to figure out what the hell his youngest was up to.

When Luffy finally set him down in a quieter part of the arena, Archer straightened up, adjusting his sunglasses and glaring at his son. “You better have a damn good reason for this, kid.”

Luffy didn’t say anything, just pointed behind Archer with a grin. "You gotta meet someone."

Archer raised an eyebrow, still grumbling. “If it’s that girl Rebecca again, I’m out—I swear to—”

A voice from behind him cut him off. “Hey, Dad.”

That voice. Archer froze.

He turned around slowly, heart pounding in his chest. And when he saw the person standing there, he felt the world tilt under his feet.

A blond-haired young man, tall and strong, with a scar over his left eye. But those eyes—those eyes he could never forget.

“S-Sabo?” Archer’s voice cracked, his body frozen in place. His mind struggled to catch up with what his eyes were seeing. It couldn’t be real. It couldn't be him.

But it was.

Sabo stepped forward, his smile soft but hesitant, as if unsure what to expect. “Yeah... It’s me.”

For a moment, Archer didn’t move. Couldn’t. He just stood there, staring at the son he thought he’d lost forever. The one they had cried for, the one whose memory had haunted every corner of their lives.

But then, something snapped. Without thinking, Archer lunged forward, wrapping his arms around Sabo in a tight embrace, holding him like he was afraid he'd disappear again.

Sabo chuckled, his voice thick with emotion. “You’re squeezing a bit hard there, Dad.”

“Shut up,” Archer muttered, burying his face in his son’s shoulder, trying to keep the tears from spilling over. “You’re lucky I don’t break you in half, you little shit.”

Luffy stood off to the side, watching them with a wide smile. “Told you it was important, Dad!”

Archer couldn’t help but laugh through the tears, still holding Sabo tight. “Yeah, brat... you did.”

Pulling back from the embrace, Archer finally found his voice, a mix of disbelief and urgency pouring out of him. “What the hell happened? We thought you drowned that day! What the fuck?”

Sabo took a deep breath, the smile fading slightly as he met his father’s eyes. “I was saved by the Revolutionaries.” The words hung in the air like a weight, and Archer’s heart sank at the thought, his mind racing. The Revolutionaries? They had gotten their hands on Sabo? Stupid fuckers. “I lost my memories for a while,” Sabo continued, his voice steady. “But they came back after the Marineford battle. I looked for you guys... I’ve been searching for a long time, and I finally found you.”

Archer was speechless, the gravity of Sabo’s journey hitting him like a punch to the gut. He felt a rush of emotions—relief, anger, sadness—all tangled together. “You’ve got a lot to explain,” he finally said, trying to process everything.

“Like I said, I’ve missed you guys so fucking much,” Sabo admitted, his expression softening.

Archer felt a surge of warmth, his anger dissipating for the moment. “Ace and your papa and Law are here too, somewhere,” he said, trying to steer the conversation back to the present. “We’re on a mission to dethrone your adoptive uncle.”

Sabo nodded, his eyes brightening. “Really?”

“Yeah, well, it’s a bit more complicated than that,” Archer added, rubbing the back of his neck “Your papa and brothers is going to freak when they see you.”

Just then, Sabo turned to Luffy, his expression shifting to one of eagerness. “Hey, Luffy... can I take your place in the finale? I really want that Devil Fruit.”

Luffy beamed, his excitement contagious. “Of course! Just don’t get hurt or anything!”

Archer couldn’t help but smirk at their interaction. “You know, your Papa went a little crazy after we thought you died. He took out your parents and all their guards,” Archer added, his tone light but serious.

Sabo burst into laughter, the tension easing further. “Yeah, I know. I heard about that. I missed you guys so much, but that just makes it all worth it.”

Archer watched his sons, their bond rekindling right in front of him. No matter how twisted the circumstances had been, this moment felt right, like the pieces of a long-lost puzzle finally fitting together again. “Alright, kid. Go show them what you’re made of,” Archer said, clapping Sabo on the back.

“Thanks, Dad!” Sabo grinned, his eyes sparkling with determination as he walked toward the arena entrance.

Archer leaned against the wall, feeling a sense of pride swell in his chest.

Archer’s heart swelled with pride as he watched Sabo claim victory in the arena. The cheers from the crowd echoed in his ears, and for a moment, everything felt right in the world. But that moment of elation was short-lived.

“Dad, Luffy! Look, I did it!” Sabo shouted, his triumphant smile lighting up the arena. But just as Archer began to revel in the joy of the moment, he saw Luffy—his oblivious, enthusiastic little shit of a son—dashing toward the stage. And then it happened. Luffy, without a care for the disguise he had so carefully put on, sprinted out to hug Sabo.

“Luffy, no! Get back!” Archer yelled, but the shout was drowned out by the crowd’s roaring applause and the clatter of armor as guards began to swarm the arena.

“Ugh, damn it!” Archer cursed under his breath, realizing their cover was blown. They had to move—now. He quickly pulled Timble from his chest pocket and placed him on his shoulder. “Hold on, buddy. We’re going to make some noise!”

Together, they charged toward the arena entrance, and Archer felt the familiar rush of power surge through him as he began to shift into his bear form. With a mighty roar that echoed off the walls, he hoped to stall the guards and give his sons a chance to escape. The sound stopped everyone in their tracks—competitors, fighters, and guards alike.

Luffy, quick to react, grabbed Sabo and hopped onto Archer’s back, a grin plastered across his face. “Let’s go, Dad!” he shouted, the thrill of adventure clearly overpowering any sense of danger.

Sabo, still beaming from his win, joined in, laughter spilling from him as he clung to Archer’s fur. Bartolomeo and Rebecca quickly followed suit, leaping onto Archer’s back as they made their escape. The sight of them, all grinning and full of life, filled Archer with a fierce sense of protection.

With each powerful stomp, Archer thundered down the arena’s corridor, the guards’ shocked faces fading into the distance. Their laughter rang in his ears, mingling with the sounds of chaos as they fled.

Once they were safe, Archer shifted back into his human form, panting slightly from the effort. He grabbed Timble from Luffy’s hands and hoisted him back onto his shoulder, ruffling his hair.

“Whoa, Hunter!” Bartolomeo exclaimed, his eyes wide with astonishment. “I thought your name was Hunter?”

Luffy grinned from ear to ear, his excitement bubbling over. “No its Portgas D. Archer and he is my dad! He’s the Golden Terror and co-captain of the Roaring Pirates!” He threw an arm around Archer’s shoulders, leaning into him. “And I’m Luffy!”

Timble, looking thoroughly unimpressed, added grumpily, “And my name is not Paul! It’s Timble!”

Archer laughed, feeling the weight of everything lift, at least for a moment. “Good to meet you, Timble,” Bartolomeo said, a smirk dancing across his face. “I think I like the name Timble better.”

Chapter Text

Archer ran a hand through his hair, the adrenaline still buzzing through his veins after their chaotic escape from the arena. The streets of Dressrosa were strangely quiet now, with only the distant hum of activity breaking the tension. He glanced over at Luffy, who was already halfway down the street, muttering something about "Doflamingo." Typical Luffy, never one to sit still. Bartolomeo shot them a thumbs-up before sprinting off to find his crew, his loud personality leaving just as quickly as it came.

That left Archer, Sabo, Timble, and Rebecca standing in the middle of the street, the dust still settling from their earlier sprint. Archer took a deep breath and surveyed the area, trying to figure out their next move. They needed to regroup, but he also needed a drink. His throat felt like sandpaper.

"Alright," he muttered, rubbing his temples. "First things first—where the hell can we get something to drink around here?" He glanced around, half-expecting an answer to just appear in front of him.

Rebecca, standing a little too close for comfort, pointed at him, her cheeks flushing pink. "Uhm... Archer? Your shirt is... covered in blood."

Archer blinked and looked down at himself. She was right. The red shirt Timble had fetched earlier was now splattered with drying blood. How had he missed that? Without a second thought, he shrugged it off and tossed it to the ground, standing there bare-chested in the Dressrosa heat.

“Huh. So it is,” he said, as if it were an everyday occurrence. “Timble, you know what to do.”

Timble, who had been perched on Archer’s shoulder, gave a little salute before scampering off with quick little strides, no doubt on a mission to "acquire" a new shirt. Archer trusted him to return with something decent—probably.

Sabo, standing beside him, couldn’t help but laugh, shaking his head with that grin of his. “You never change, do you, Dad?”

Archer raised a brow, smirking. “Why would I? The world changes enough on its own. Gotta stay grounded somehow.”

Rebecca, however, seemed to be having a hard time keeping her eyes off Archer’s bare chest. She kept stealing glances, her blush deepening with every look.

Archer caught on quick, and his grin widened. “I’ve told you already, sweetheart—gay as the day is long.” He stretched his arms above his head, leaning into the teasing tone just to mess with her a little.

Rebecca’s face turned an even darker shade of red, and she quickly looked away, mumbling something under her breath. Archer chuckled, glancing at Sabo, who was still grinning but clearly amused by the situation.

“So,” Sabo began, leaning against a wall, arms crossed. “What’s the plan? We’ve got Luffy off doing… whatever it is he does, Bartolomeo finding his crew, and we’re just standing around in the middle of a city run by a maniac.”

Archer shrugged. “Well, first off, I’m getting a new shirt. After that, we’ll figure out where Ace, Rosinante, and Law are. I’m sure they’re off getting into some sort of trouble. Then we’ll start thinking about how to dismantle Doflamingo’s little kingdom.” His tone was casual, but the glint in his eyes showed just how serious he was. Doflamingo was going down.

Sabo nodded, his expression turning thoughtful. “Sounds like a plan. It’s been a long time coming, hasn’t it?”

“Too long,” Archer replied, his voice laced with a quiet intensity.

Before they could continue, Timble returned, holding a pink shirt that he’d undoubtedly stolen from some unsuspecting merchant. He tossed it up to Archer, who caught it with ease.

“Timble, its pink. As in really pink?” Archer said as he pulled the shirt over his head. Timble just grinned at him “payback is a bitch huh?.”

Archer adjusted the ridiculous pink shirt Timble had "borrowed" for him, grimacing at the vibrant color. At least it covered the blood. His sunglasses were still firmly in place, shielding his eyes from the midday sun, though the corner of his mouth twitched with amusement at how absurd he must have looked. A shirt this bright? Definitely not his style.

Leading Sabo, Rebecca, and Timble through the narrow streets of Dressrosa, they quickly found the nearest bar—a dingy but relatively quiet place that suited Archer just fine. He glanced over his shoulder and gave a quick nod to Sabo and Rebecca. "Grab a table outside. I'll get us some beers... and milk for Timble."

Timble huffed. "I can drink real stuff, you know."

Archer shot him a grin. "Nah, milk suits you just fine, 'Paul.'"

Timble crossed his arms, his face scrunching up in frustration, but he didn't protest further. They found a table while Archer headed inside, the cool shade of the bar offering brief relief from the heat outside. After ordering a round of beers and the promised milk, Archer returned to find them seated, Timble already eyeing the chairs like he was considering pulling some sort of prank.

Archer set the drinks down, sliding the milk to Timble, who took it with a muttered grumble. He sat back, crossing his arms and looking across the table at Rebecca. "Alright, Rebecca," he began, his tone more serious now. "What’s your plan? You’ve stuck with us long enough. What’s your goal in all of this?"

Rebecca shifted uncomfortably, clearly not expecting to be put on the spot so soon. She fidgeted with her drink, her eyes flicking between Archer and Sabo, before finally speaking.

"My father," she said quietly, her voice tinged with both sadness and determination. "I want to avenge him. He was a gladiator, just like I am now. Doflamingo... he's the reason my father is dead." Her hands tightened around the mug, knuckles white. "I want to fight for him. I need to take Doflamingo down. For my father. For Dressrosa."

Archer leaned back in his chair, watching her carefully. Her words were filled with passion, but he could see the cracks beneath the surface—the fear, the uncertainty. She was young, and Doflamingo wasn’t just any warlord. He was a man who crushed people beneath his heel without a second thought. But Archer had seen her fight. She was tough, no doubt about that.

"You know this isn’t going to be easy, right?" he said, his tone blunt but not unkind. "Doflamingo’s got an army, and he doesn’t play fair. If you’re in this, you better be ready for a war."

Rebecca met his gaze, her eyes hardening. "I know. I’ve been fighting my whole life. I’m not afraid of him."

Archer leaned back in his chair, arms crossed and nodded slowly at Rebecca. "Alright, kid. You can join us," he said, his voice casual but firm. "But just so you know, right now, I have absolutely no fucking idea where any of the Straw Hats, the Heart Pirates, or the Roaring Pirates are. So... welcome to the chaos." He smirked, taking another sip of his beer as Rebecca blinked in surprise, then nodded in quiet agreement.

Timble let out a short snort of laughter from beside him, clearly enjoying the absurdity of the situation. Archer, as usual, wasn't too bothered by the uncertainty—chaos was part of the game, after all.

Turning to Sabo, Archer's expression shifted slightly, his golden eyes focused. "What about you?" he asked, nodding toward his second oldest. "You got the Devil Fruit?"

Sabo reached into his bag and pulled out a small, strange-looking fruit—the Goro Goro no Mi, the lightning fruit. "Yeah, I’ve got it."

Archer raised an eyebrow. "Good. Eat it."

Sabo blinked, clearly taken aback for a moment. "Right here?" he asked, glancing around.

Archer waved his hand dismissively. "Yeah. Here. Now." Then, grinning, he added, "The sooner you get used to it, the better. Besides, we’re going to need you at full strength if we're going to take down that pink-feathered fuck."

Sabo chuckled, shaking his head slightly at his dad’s bluntness but nodded in agreement. "Fair enough." He took a deep breath, looking down at the fruit in his hand, then, with one quick bite, sank his teeth into the fruit’s rough, swirling skin. The taste must have been as bad as Archer remembered because Sabo grimaced, nearly gagging as he forced it down.

Archer snorted in amusement. "Tastes like crap right?"

Sabo wiped his mouth, nodding, "Worse than I expected, actually."

Archer clapped him on the shoulder, grinning. "Don’t worry, you’ll live. Now that that’s done..." His tone shifted, more serious now. "You wanna help us take down Doflamingo?"

Sabo looked at him, his eyes sharp. "Yes. I want to help."

Archer stood up, muttering something under his breath about needing some news, and walked toward a nearby stand. The vendor, seeing him approach, started his pitch, but Archer wasn’t having any of it. He crossed his arms, sunglasses still perched on his face, and immediately started haggling, his voice low and intimidating. The vendor, realizing he wasn’t dealing with your average customer, began to stammer, lowering the price with every sharp word from Archer.

Rebecca and Sabo watched in mild amazement from their table, unsure whether to laugh or just continue being impressed by how effortlessly Archer seemed to handle everything. Meanwhile, Timble, perched on the edge of the table, kept his eyes on Archer, looking like he was ready to back him up if things went sideways.

When Archer returned, he had a newspaper tucked under his arm, and—much to Timble’s continued amusement—he was wearing a pair of reading glasses. He plopped back down in his seat like he didn’t have a care in the world, lit a cigarette, and opened the newspaper, casually flipping to the front page.

To anyone passing by, he looked like an ordinary citizen enjoying his day, not the co-captain of one of the most notorious pirate crews in the world.

Rebecca exchanged a look with Sabo, her eyes wide as if to say, Is he serious?

Sabo just chuckled, shaking his head slightly. “That’s dad for you,” he muttered.

Timble, now back on Archer’s shoulder, leaned in to read along with him, pointing out certain parts of the article with little squeaks of excitement.

Rebecca hesitated before asking, "Um… Archer, what are you doing?"

Archer lowered the paper, peeking over the top of his reading glasses with a wide grin that seemed to catch her off guard. His golden eyes twinkled with amusement as he flashed her a smile that made her face turn red yet again.

"Just checking to see if any of the others made the paper," he said casually, folding the newspaper down onto his lap. "You know, Luffy’s not exactly subtle, and I wouldn’t be surprised if his goofy face ended up front and center." He took another drag from his cigarette, letting the smoke curl into the air before adding with a playful shrug, "And, well… I’m bored."

Rebecca fidgeted, glancing away as if unsure how to respond to the playful tone, but she couldn’t help the small smile that crept onto her lips.

Sabo leaned back in his chair, chuckling. 

"Hey," Archer replied with a wink, "gotta enjoy the little things when you’re about to topple a damn warlord."

Rebecca's nervousness seemed to ease as she laughed softly, still blushing but clearly more comfortable. Timble, still perched on Archer’s shoulder, snorted in his own tiny way, nudging Archer’s cheek, as if to remind him not to get too cocky.

"Don’t worry, kid," Archer added, giving Rebecca a reassuring nod. "We’ll figure this mess out and get Doflamingo off that throne soon enough. You stick with us, and you’ll be just fine."

Sabo looked at his dad, curiosity gleaming in his eyes. "So, what’s up with your hair? Why did you color it black?"

Archer let out a long sigh, leaning back in his chair and rubbing the back of his neck. "Well, I had a little run-in with Doflamingo. I figured it’d be safer if I didn’t stand out too much, so I went for the dark look until we can get rid of him for good."

Sabo nodded slowly, processing the information. "That makes sense."

There was a moment of silence before Sabo hesitantly asked, "How’s Ace doing, by the way? After everything with Marineford and… you know."

Archer’s expression softened at the mention of Ace. "He’s had a hard time, that’s for sure. But he’s been holding it together. He’s the Vice Captain of the Silence now, and you know what? He’s got a boyfriend. Sanji from Luffy's crew."

Sabo’s face broke into a genuine smile. "Really? I’m glad to hear that. Ace deserves some happiness."

"Yeah, he does," Archer agreed, a warm smile creeping onto his face. "They’ve got a good thing going. Sanji keeps him grounded."

Sabo’s curiosity piqued again, and he leaned in slightly. "What about Law? How did you find him? What’s he like?"

Archer chuckled, a fond expression crossing his features. "Law is a good brat. He’s full of plans—always plotting something. And he’s emotionally constipated, but we’re working on that part."

Just as Archer was about to ask Sabo another question, a flurry of feathers caught his attention. Nugget came soaring in, landing with a thud right on top of Archer's head. The stupid bird pecked at him, sharp little beak jabbing him right in the scalp.

“Hey! Watch it!” Archer protested, swatting at Nugget, who merely squawked in annoyance. Archer noticed a note tied to the bird’s foot and reached up to grab it.

"What's that?" Sabo asked, leaning forward in curiosity.

Archer squinted around for his glasses. Rebecca, blushing again, pointed to his head. "Uh, you’ve got them right there," she said with an amused smile.

“Oh, right,” Archer said sheepishly, sliding the glasses down onto his nose. He unfurled the note, feeling the anticipation rise as Timble and Nugget settled onto his shoulders, both peering curiously at the paper.

“Let’s see what our feathered friend has brought us,” Archer said, scanning the note.

The message was scrawled hastily, the ink smudged in places:

Archer! We need you back at the Silence! Doflamingo’s forces are searching the streets. Get Luffy and get out of there!

Archer’s heart raced as he read the note. “Well, that’s just great,” he muttered, glancing around at Sabo, Timble, and Rebecca. “Looks like we’ve got company. Doflamingo’s people are on the move, and they’re searching for us.”

“Should we hide?” Rebecca asked, her voice wavering slightly as she looked around, half-expecting to see guards at every corner.

“No, we need to move,” Archer replied decisively, getting up from the table and shoving the note into his pocket. “We can’t risk getting cornered here. Sabo, you stick with me. Timble, you and Nugget stay close. And Rebecca, if you want to come, you better keep up.”

Rebecca nodded, determination flickering in her eyes. “I can handle myself!”

“Alright then, let’s get back to the ship,” Archer said, steeling himself for what was about to come. “This is going to get messy.”

And then they ran, and ran fast! Archer, Sabo, Timble, and Rebecca sprinted down the bustling streets of Dressrosa.

“Hey, where did you guys get that bird from?” Sabo shouted over the noise, glancing back at Nugget, who flapped his wings wildly as if trying to keep up with the commotion.

Archer couldn’t help but laugh, a breathless chuckle escaping him as he dodged a pair of guards who had spotted them. “Timble personally stole Nugget from Rob Lucci himself at Enies Lobby!” he called back, delivering a swift kick to one guard that sent him sprawling to the ground.

Sabo’s eyes went wide. “What? Seriously?” He had to momentarily slow down to process the information, grinning at the absurdity of it all.

“Yeah!” Archer replied, dodging another guard and effortlessly taking him out with a punch. “He’s got quite the talent for theft, our Timble!”

Rebecca, running beside them, looked from Archer to Timble with wide eyes, clearly impressed. “You stole a bird from a CP9 member? How is that even possible?”

Timble puffed out his chest, clearly enjoying the attention. “I’m stealthy!” he exclaimed proudly, his little fists clenched in determination. “I snuck right past him!”

“More like you kidnapped the bird after I knocked Lucci out!” Archer laughed, quickly glancing behind them to see if anyone was following. “But it worked, so I’m not complaining!”

As they approached the Silence, more guards came barreling after them, shouting and brandishing their weapons. Archer felt a rush of panic flood his system. Shit, shit, shit! His heart raced as he glanced back at the approaching guards, the sound of their footsteps echoing ominously behind them.

“Thank the fuck for Franky!” Archer yelled, just as the magnificent speedo-wearing bastard appeared on the deck. With a grin plastered across his face, Franky unleashed a barrage of bullets and explosions, effectively blowing the guards away like confetti in the wind. The chaos provided just the distraction they needed.

“Go, go, go!” Archer shouted, adrenaline pumping through him as he glanced at Rebecca. Without hesitation, he scooped her up around the waist and made a running leap toward the Silence. Sabo was right behind them, vaulting over the water with surprising agility.

As they landed on the deck, Archer felt Rebecca land directly on top of him, and he couldn’t help but chuckle at her flustered expression. The girl blushed furiously; her cheeks practically glowing as she scrambled off him.

“Sorry!” she squeaked, her face a mixture of embarrassment and excitement.

Archer pushed himself up, shaking off the awkwardness just in time to hear Ace’s booming laughter from the other side of the deck. “What’s up with the pink shirt, dad?” Ace called out, a smirk dancing on his lips.

Archer flipped Ace off, a playful smirk on his face, just as Rosinante came barreling in like a freight train. Without a second thought, Rosinante scooped Archer up off his feet and pulled him into a kiss that made the world around them fade away. Archer melted into it, feeling the warmth of Rosinante’s lips and the frantic energy of the moment.

“I thought Doflamingo got you!” Rosinante murmured against his lips, the worry lacing his voice making Archer’s heart swell.

“Not even close,” Archer whispered back, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “I’ve got a surprise for you.”

As Rosinante set him down, Archer gestured to Sabo, who stepped forward with a grin. “Hello, Papa!” Sabo said, his voice bright with excitement.

Time seemed to stand still as Rosinante’s expression shifted from confusion to shock, and then to pure elation. He halted mid-step, his eyes wide. “Sabo?”

In the next heartbeat, Rosinante launched himself at Sabo, tackling him into a massive hug that nearly toppled them both over. “You’re alive!” he exclaimed, his voice a mix of joy and disbelief.

Archer watched, grinning from ear to ear, as Ace quickly joined the fray, wrapping his arms around both Sabo and Rosinante in a tight embrace. The three of them tumbled together, laughter erupting as they celebrated the unexpected reunion.

“Damn it, you guys are going to crush him!” Archer teased, shaking his head in mock disapproval. But the sight of his loved ones—his family—lost in their own joyful chaos filled him with warmth.

Sabo squirmed a bit, laughing as he tried to catch his breath. “I missed you all so much!”

Rosinante finally pulled back, eyes shining with unshed tears. “We thought we lost you. After… everything…” His voice trailed off, emotion thick in the air.

As the laughter and excitement began to settle, Archer’s expression shifted, a serious look crossing his face. He took a step back, glancing around the deck of the Silence as if expecting to see his sons appearing at any moment.

“Where the fuck are Luffy and Law?” he demanded, his voice sharper than intended. The concern bubbling up in his chest was impossible to ignore.

Rosinante sighed, running a hand through his hair, his eyes troubled. “Law sent the Heart Pirates out in the Polar Tang to scout another area. They thought it would be safer that way. But…” he paused, the weight of his next words hanging heavily in the air.

Archer’s heart dropped as he saw the gravity in Rosinante’s eyes. “What?” he asked, barely above a whisper.

“Law was captured by Doflamingo.”

Archer froze, his breath hitching in his throat. The fear for his oldest son washed over him like a cold wave. “What? No—no, he can’t be.” he stammered, fighting against the panic rising in his chest. “We have to get him back! We have to do something!”

Rosinante stepped forward, placing a comforting hand on Archer’s shoulder. “I know. But we don’t know where he is right now. No one has seen Luffy either. It’s like he vanished. The only ones we’ve confirmed are here are the Straw Hats and the Roaring Pirates.”

“Doflamingo has both of them?” Archer’s voice rose with anger, the helplessness gnawing at him. “Damn it! He’ll use them as bait. We have to move, Rosi!”

Sabo, still riding the wave of excitement from their reunion, looked between the two of them, eyes wide. “What can we do? Can’t we just storm Doflamingo’s base?”

Rosinante shook his head slowly, his expression serious. “It’s not that simple. Doflamingo has the entire city on lockdown. We’d be walking straight into a trap.”

Archer’s mind was still racing, trying to process everything, when Robin approached, her expression serious. “We have another problem,” she said, drawing everyone’s attention.

Archer raised an eyebrow. “What now?”

Robin sighed, and without skipping a beat, she called Usopp forward. He appeared, looking a bit sheepish but determined to get his point across. “Uh, so…there’s this girl named Sugar who works for Doflamingo. She can turn people into toys,” he began, nervously fiddling with his slingshot. “And I accidentally scared her so much that she fainted. And when she did…all the toys turned back into humans.”

Archer blinked, processing Usopp’s words. “Wait. You scared her? And that somehow helped us?”

“Yeah!” Usopp nodded enthusiastically. “But it also means that a lot of people who were turned into toys are now back in their human forms, which could be a problem because…”

Before he could finish, several heads popped up from Robin’s cleavage, their tiny voices squeaking in excitement. Archer rubbed his eyes, convinced he was seeing things. “What the hell? Why are there so many Timbles in Robin’s boobs?” he blurted out, half-laughing and half-confused.

Archer's confusion deepened as the tiny figures emerging from Robin's cleavage were dwarfs, their faces mirroring surprise and delight. Timble’s eyes widened, tears welling up as he spotted them. “D-Dwarfs!” he cried, hopping up and down on Archer's shoulder.

Archer looked at Rosinante, a bewildered expression plastered on his face. “What the actual hell is going on here?”

Just as the tension began to settle, a chilling breeze swept through the deck, carrying a sense of impending doom. Archer’s instincts kicked in, his muscles tensing as he turned his gaze toward the horizon.

“Wait, what’s that?” he muttered, squinting against the sunlight.

Before anyone could answer, strings began to gather around all of Dressrosa, shimmering like silver threads against the bright sky. They twisted and turned, wrapping the land in an intricate web that glimmered ominously. A sense of dread enveloped the group as they realized the significance of the movement.

“What the hell is that?” Sabo exclaimed, his eyes widening in horror.

“That’s not good,” Archer said, his heart racing. “Doflamingo is on the move.”

From a distance, the figure of Doflamingo appeared atop the coliseum, his signature smirk plastered across his face. He waved his hands dramatically, orchestrating the web of strings that encased the entire island like a birdcage. 

“Everyone!” Archer shouted, urgency lacing his voice. “We need to get ready for a fight. Doflamingo’s making his move to control everything.”

Without thinking, Archer began to rub his wrist where Doflamingo's strings had left scars. His pulse quickened. He was afraid. 

Chapter Text

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" Archer muttered under his breath; his gaze locked on the growing web of strings encasing Dressrosa. His heart raced, pounding against his ribcage as his mind scrambled to make sense of the chaos. The birdcage—the damn birdcage—was closing in, a deadly net created by none other than Doflamingo himself. For a brief moment, he stood frozen, unable to move.

It wasn’t until he felt Ace’s hands shaking him that the haze lifted.

“Oi, dad! Snap out of it!” Ace shouted, his voice cutting through the panic.

Archer blinked, reality snapping back into focus. The deadly strings were closing in, faster than he’d anticipated. The ship was already swarming with their allies, scrambling to prepare for what was undoubtedly the beginning of a brutal fight for survival.

His voice cracked through the air like a gunshot: “Everyone, get your asses moving NOW! We’re regrouping at the harbor! Move it or die here!”

People began rushing around in a frantic storm, gathering their weapons and supplies. The Straw Hats, Roaring Pirates, Rebecca, Sabo—all of them moved with urgency. Archer clenched his fists, then turned to Ace, who had already activated his Devil Fruit powers, small flames flickering at his fingertips.

“We need to get everyone out of here. This place is going to be a fucking war zone.” Archer’s voice was tight with adrenaline.

Ace nodded. “Right. I’ll head to the front and clear the way.”

Archer grabbed Ace by the arm before he could run off. “Don’t do anything stupid. We stick together.”

Ace grinned, his usual cocky smirk in place despite the gravity of the situation. “Since when have I done anything stupid?”

Before Archer could respond, the loud sound of footsteps echoed from the docks—guards, more of Doflamingo’s forces, coming their way.

Zoro's blades sang as he cut through the guards like they were made of paper, while Sanji’s legs were a blur of kicks, every strike knocking down another wave of Doflamingo’s lackeys. Brook, in his eerie style, moved with grace, his sword glinting under the sunlight as he swiftly dispatched the remaining guards. The three of them were unstoppable, and within moments, the dock was cleared.

A brief silence fell over the group as they all took the chance to catch their breath. Archer wiped the sweat and blood from his forehead, his chest rising and falling with each breath. He locked eyes with Rosinante across the harbor. A single nod passed between them—no words needed. It was time to finish this.

Archer’s voice rang out, authoritative and clear, cutting through the aftermath of the fight. “Listen up! Both crews are heading for the plaza. That’s where we regroup and take down Doflamingo’s commanders. I don’t care about teams or fancy strategies. Just get the job done. We wipe them all out. Understand?”

Everyone, from the Straw Hats to the Roaring Pirates, nodded in agreement, their faces set with grim smiles. They knew what was at stake—Law’s life, Dressrosa’s freedom, and the end of Doflamingo’s reign.

Luffy’s crew was ready. Zoro sheathed his blades, and Sanji, already lighting a cigarette, cracked his neck. Franky, still grinning like a madman, gave another “Super!” before clenching his fists, and Brook straightened his top hat. The Roaring Pirates mirrored their intensity, each of them preparing for the next round.

“Move out!” Archer shouted, and they did, sprinting toward the heart of Dressrosa.

The streets blurred as they ran, their boots pounding the cobblestones. Archer’s heart raced, adrenaline coursing through his veins, his mind laser-focused on their goal. Doflamingo’s strings were still closing in, and the air was thick with tension, but there was no time to let fear settle in. They had to make it to the plaza before the cage sealed them in completely.

They turned a corner and the plaza came into view. It was packed with people, civilians still fleeing, while Doflamingo’s forces lined the streets like an army ready to crush any resistance.

At the center, Archer spotted the familiar forms of Doflamingo's commanders—Diamante, Pica, and Trebol. All of them stood tall, sneering, clearly ready for the final confrontation. Doflamingo wasn’t in sight yet, but his presence was palpable. The birdcage was closing in, inch by inch.

Archer’s eyes narrowed. “Alright, let’s tear them apart.”

As soon as they hit the plaza, chaos exploded. Zoro didn’t waste a second—he charged straight at Pica, blades flashing in the sunlight. His battle cry echoed through the streets, his body a blur of motion as he closed in on the massive stone man. But before Zoro could land a hit, Luffy came out of nowhere, flying into the fray with that trademark wild grin plastered on his face.

“Zoro!!” Luffy shouted, stretching his arm back for a punch, clearly having the time of his life.

Pica, towering above them, began to speak, his voice booming over the plaza. Except… it wasn’t exactly what anyone expected.

"Fools! You’ll nev-urrrr be able to… HA! DEAL WITH MEEEE!"

The second Pica opened his mouth, the deep bass everyone anticipated was… well, the complete opposite. The voice that came out was ridiculously high-pitched and squeaky, more suited to a helium-filled balloon than a giant stone warrior.

Archer skidded to a stop, doubling over with laughter. “Oh my god… is that really his voice?” he choked out between guffaws. Beside him, Ace was barely holding it together, tears of laughter streaming down his face.

"Timble’s voice is more manly than that!" Archer gasped, slapping Ace on the back as they both wheezed for breath.

“Oi, Timble!” Ace called out, still grinning, “You’re gonna give Pica some lessons in voice training after this, right?”

Timble, who had perched on Archer’s shoulder like a tiny, grumpy parrot, folded his arms with a pout. “I told you, I don’t sound like that!” he protested, his voice much more serious than Pica’s bizarre squeak.

Zoro, meanwhile, was trying—really trying—not to crack up. But even he couldn’t hide the twitch of his lips as he shouted back to Luffy, “Oi Luffy! You hear this guy?!”

“BAHAHA!” Luffy couldn’t hold it in anymore, laughing like a madman. “What the hell is that voice?!”

Pica’s stone face twisted in rage, clearly not happy with the mocking, and the ground shook as he moved to attack. “Laugh while you can! I’ll crush you all!!”

Zoro grinned, drawing his swords with a flourish. “You’re gonna need more than that squeaky voice to scare me.”

Zoro, that insane bastard, had already launched himself into the fight without a second thought, his blades slicing through the air as he charged at Pica. Archer barely had a moment to process the chaos erupting around them, trying to find either Diamante or Trebol amidst the commotion. His instincts told him something was off, and before he could act on it, a sharp, stinging sensation wrapped around his ankle.

"Shit!" Archer cursed, eyes darting down to see a string, thin and deadly, tightening its grip. In a blink, he was yanked off his feet, dragged away with brutal force, his body scraping against the cobblestones. "Rosi!" he yelled, but the sound of battle drowned his voice as he was pulled down a narrow alley, away from the plaza, away from the fight, and right into the web of nightmares.

Archer slammed to a stop inside a dark room. The air was cold and heavy, the only light a small flickering candle casting eerie shadows across the walls. Gasping, he forced himself to his feet, his heart pounding in his chest. He scanned the room—and froze.

Pictures. Everywhere. Pinned to the walls, scattered across the floor, some torn, others carefully preserved. Each one was of him. Of Archer. Archer with his boys, laughing with Ace, ruffling Luffy’s hair, hugging Law. Pictures of him and Rosinante, some candid, some intimate. Others of Archer alone, watching the horizon, or just existing—completely unaware he was being watched, being hunted.

A cold sweat broke across his skin. His breathing turned ragged, and fear clawed its way up his throat.

"Missed me?" A voice slithered through the darkness, a cruel, familiar voice that made Archer’s blood run cold. A dark chuckle echoed in the room, and Archer whipped around, his body tense, muscles coiled in anticipation of what was to come.

Doflamingo stepped into the dim light, his towering figure casting a long, ominous shadow across the room. His sickening smile was stretched wide, sunglasses glinting with malice. "You ran last time," he continued, voice low, almost a whisper. "We were just starting to have fun, weren't we? But this time…"

Archer’s breath hitched, the memories of their last encounter flashing through his mind—blood, pain, and that twisted grin Doflamingo always wore.

Doflamingo stepped closer, his strings snapping lightly in the air like the crack of a whip. "This time," he whispered, his voice dripping with venomous amusement, "we’re going to finish what we started."

Archer’s fists clenched tight, knuckles white as fear coursed through his veins. He tried to swallow it down, to find the courage that always came so naturally in battle, but Doflamingo had a way of sinking his claws into Archer’s mind. That sickening feeling of being hunted. Of being watched.

"What the fuck do you want?" Archer snarled, forcing the fear out of his voice, but the tremor was still there.

Doflamingo smirked, his teeth gleaming in the candlelight. “Oh, Archer… it’s never been about what I want. It’s about what we can be. You, me, the power we could wield together. You just needed a little more… convincing.”

With a flick of his hand, strings wrapped tighter around Archer’s body, pulling him closer to Doflamingo’s looming presence. Archer’s mind screamed to fight back, to tear free, but the sheer strength of the strings held him in place.

“I was hurt, you know,” Doflamingo purred, his voice soft and almost mocking. “You disappeared on me, ran back to that weakling, Rosinante. How could you choose him over me?”

Archer’s lips curled in disgust, his fear giving way to anger. “You’re fucking delusional, Doflamingo. I’ll never be yours.”

Doflamingo's grin widened. “Oh, we’ll see about that, Archer. We’ll see.” His hand reached out, slowly, almost gently, as if to caress Archer's face.

Archer jerked his head back, eyes blazing with hatred. "If you so much as touch me, I'll rip your damn hand off!"

Doflamingo’s laughter filled the room, cold and sharp. “Such fire! That’s why you fascinate me, Archer. You fight, you resist… but in the end, everyone breaks.”

Doflamingo's fingers brushed against Archer’s hair, a mockery of affection in his gesture. "You’ve been naughty," Doflamingo said with a twisted smile, his tone dripping with malice. "Cutting and dying your hair, running from me… You know how much I liked it."

Archer’s eyes burned with defiance. Without thinking, he spat in Doflamingo’s face. The act was immediate, primal—he couldn’t stand Doflamingo's touch, not for a second more.

But the reaction was swift. Doflamingo’s face twisted with fury, and his fist connected with Archer’s jaw, sending him staggering back, falling unto the table face first. Pain exploded across Archer’s face as the blow knocked him off balance, and he tasted blood in his mouth.

"Still full of fire, aren’t you?" Doflamingo snarled, his smile returning, but now darker—more dangerous. His hand grabbed Archer’s shirt, and with one vicious motion, he ripped it from Archer’s body. The fabric tore away easily, exposing the scars and bruises that marred his skin.

An icy fear gripped Archer’s chest. He’d been here before—trapped, at Doflamingo’s mercy, no escape in sight. His mind flashed back to that other time, when Smoker had been the one to save him from this nightmare. But now? Now there was no one to come to his rescue. No one to stop Doflamingo from doing whatever twisted things he had in mind.

“Fuck,” Archer whispered under his breath, his eyes darting around, searching desperately for any way out.

Doflamingo’s fingers danced across Archer’s exposed back, his grin widening as he reveled in the fear he could sense emanating from Archer. "This time, there’s no escape. No Smoker to save you. It’s just you and me, Archer. Isn’t that what you wanted? To finish what we started?"

Archer’s heart raced, but his body felt paralyzed, every instinct screaming at him to fight, to claw his way out. But the strings. The damned strings. They bound him tighter now, cutting into his skin, leaving no room for movement.

Doflamingo leaned in closer, his breath hot against Archer’s ear. “We’re going to have so much fun, Archer. You’ll see. This time, there’s no running.”

A surge of anger bubbled up in Archer, mixing with the terror. He couldn’t let Doflamingo win. He couldn’t—he wouldn’t—be broken by him. But as the reality of the situation set in, with Doflamingo's twisted gaze locked onto him, Archer’s fear gripped him harder than ever before. The strings constricted, and for the first time in a long time, Archer felt truly helpless.

But as Doflamingo chuckled darkly, his cruel fingers teasing at the edges of his hips, Archer's mind found its focus. One thought cut through the panic like a blade:

Rosinante.

Gritting his teeth, Archer glared at Doflamingo, his eyes burning with defiance once again, even as fear gnawed at his insides.

“Fuck you!!,” Archer spat, voice trembling but strong. 

Doflamingo’s grin only widened, his fingers toying with a strand of Archer’s hair. “Oh, Archer, my dear… you have no idea what you’re in for.”

Just as Doflamingo's hand reached for Archer's waistband, the door exploded inward with a deafening crash. Before Archer could even register what was happening, Doflamingo was ripped off of him, his body flung through the air like a rag doll and sent crashing through the wall, debris scattering everywhere. Archer gasped, his heart pounding in his chest as the sudden shift left him dazed.

Standing in the doorway, framed by the dim light pouring in from outside, was Rosinante. His eyes burned with fury, and his entire body trembled with rage. Archer had never seen him like this—not even in the heat of battle. This was something different. Something terrifying.

“Rosi...” Archer whispered, his voice shaky, his mind still trying to catch up with what had just happened.

Rosinante stormed across the room, his face contorted in a mix of anger and concern. He bendt down and gently helped Archer to his feet, his touch soft despite the wild anger that radiated off him. “Are you okay?” Rosinante’s voice cracked slightly, his eyes searching Archer's face desperately for any sign of harm. His hands shook as they held Archer's shoulders, and Archer could see the fear behind the fury.

Before Archer could answer, before he could even process the relief of seeing Rosinante, a voice came from the rubble.

“Rosinante…” Doflamingo’s voice dripped with venom. He stood up, brushing off the dust, his grin sharp and cruel. “Always so predictable, aren’t you? Running to save your little boyfriend.” He laughed, though there was an edge of annoyance in his tone. “You’ve always been weak. A disgrace to the Donquixote family, just like father was. But now, look at you—playing hero to the little toy.”

Rosinante’s grip on Archer tightened. His whole body seemed to tremble with rage as he turned to face his brother, his eyes blazing. “Don’t you dare talk about him like that!” he yelled, his voice raw and full of emotion. “You’ve destroyed everything and everyone you’ve ever touched, Doflamingo. But this? This is where it ends. I won’t let you hurt him. Not again!”

Doflamingo chuckled darkly, dusting off his clothes with an air of arrogance. “Hurt him? Oh, Rosinante, you’ve always misunderstood. I was just trying to teach him a lesson. A lesson in loyalty.” His eyes flicked to Archer, a twisted smile spreading across his face. “You see, I missed the good old days. I missed having someone who knew their place beneath me, and what better than to take from my own little brother?.”

Rosinante’s face contorted in disgust, his fists clenching as he took a step forward. “You sick bastard,” he growled, his voice low and dangerous. “You’re not going to touch him. Not again.”

Doflamingo’s grin widened. “And who’s going to stop me? You?” His strings began to gather around him, glinting dangerously in the dim light. “You’ve always been pathetic, Rosinante. Always hiding behind others, first father, then the Marines, never strong enough to fight me on your own.”

Rosinante’s eyes burned with fury as he moved Archer behind him, shielding him from Doflamingo’s gaze. “I’m not hiding behind anyone. And I’m not scared of you anymore.”

Archer, still reeling from the shock of it all, could barely breathe. He had never seen Rosinante this enraged, this alive with fury and protection. His heart pounded in his chest, and as the two brothers faced off, he could feel the tension crackling in the air.

Doflamingo sneered, his strings snapping in the air like whips. “This should be fun. Let’s see if you’ve finally grown a spine, little brother.”

Rosinante’s eyes narrowed, his voice cold and unwavering. “You can insult me all you want, but if you so much as look at Archer again, I will tear you apart.”

Archer, standing behind Rosinante, felt his heart swell with pride and love, despite the lingering fear gnawing at him. Rosinante wasn’t just angry—he was ready to fight for him, to protect him no matter the cost.

And for the first time, Archer felt a flicker of hope.

And so the brothers began their dance of violence, a whirlwind of power and fury that echoed through the room. Doflamingo launched a series of razor-sharp strings toward Rosinante, each one glinting menacingly in the dim light. With a quick sidestep, Rosinante narrowly avoided the first strike, using his own strength to push off the ground and launch himself toward his brother.

“You’ll regret this, little brother!” Doflamingo taunted, his voice dripping with malice as he flicked his wrist, sending a barrage of strings slicing through the air. They whipped around Rosinante like a storm, trying to ensnare him.

But Rosinante was fast, moving with a determination fueled by rage and the need to protect Archer. He summoned the power of his sound waves, creating a shockwave that pushed Doflamingo’s strings back. “I’m done running from you!” he yelled, his voice echoing with a strength that resonated through the room.

The two brothers clashed with brutal force, the sound of their strikes resonating in the air like thunder. Doflamingo, with his sadistic grin, lunged forward, using his agility to dodge Rosinante's attacks, sending strings darting in to entangle him. “You were always too soft, Rosinante! You should have embraced your darkness instead of hiding behind that pathetic facade!”

With a growl, Rosinante retaliated, swinging a powerful punch aimed at Doflamingo’s jaw. The impact was like a cannonball, and for a brief moment, Doflamingo stumbled back, surprise flashing across his face. “You think you can defeat me?” Doflamingo spat, shaking off the blow and pulling himself back together.

Rosinante didn’t hesitate, seizing the moment to push forward. He unleashed a blast of sound, the waves crashing against Doflamingo like an invisible tidal wave. The force sent Doflamingo flying back, but he quickly regained his footing, eyes narrowed in annoyance.

“You’re stronger than I remember,” Doflamingo admitted, but the mockery in his tone lingered. “But you’re still a fool if you think you can win. I’m the king of this world, and you’re just a broken little puppet.”

“No more puppets!” Rosinante shouted, charging forward again, fists flying. He connected with Doflamingo's ribs, the sickening crunch of impact ringing through the air. Doflamingo gasped, stumbling, but a flick of his wrist sent strings wrapping around Rosinante's arms, yanking him back before he could follow up.

“I’ve always enjoyed breaking you, little brother,” Doflamingo sneered, tightening the strings until Rosinante winced in pain. “This time, it’ll be different. I’ll show you what true despair feels like! I will let you watch as I use your precious Archer!"

Archer watched from behind Rosinante, his heart racing as fear threatened to drown him. “Rosi, you can’t—” he started, but his voice was swallowed by the chaos of the fight.

“Stay back, Archer!” Rosinante shouted without turning, his focus on his brother. “I won’t let him hurt you or the boys! Not again!”

With a primal roar, Rosinante broke free from Doflamingo's strings, fueled by the fire in his heart. He charged again, this time with an intensity that radiated off him. He ducked under Doflamingo’s attack, weaving in and out of the barrage of strings, and unleashed a series of quick jabs that sent Doflamingo reeling.

Doflamingo, now visibly frustrated, retaliated with a flurry of strikes. “Is this really the best you can do?” he taunted, dodging Rosinante's blows with an unsettling grace. He retaliated with a sharp string that lashed across Rosinante's cheek, drawing blood.

Rosinante grunted but didn't falter. Instead, he roared with fury, the pain igniting something deeper within him. He focused his energy, channeling it into a massive sound wave that pulsed from him like an explosion. The shockwave hit Doflamingo head-on, sending him crashing against the wall and out on the street.

As the dust settled, Archer could see the strain on Rosinante's face, the way his muscles trembled with exertion. But he also saw rage, a fierce refusal to let Doflamingo win. “I’m not afraid of you,” Rosinante panted, ready to fight on.

Doflamingo, rising slowly from the wreckage, brushed himself off with a smirk. “Oh, but you should be. This is just the beginning, brother.” The strings surrounding him pulsed ominously, ready for the next round of their brutal dance.

Before Doflamingo could mount his next attack, a burst of fire and lightning erupted from the street, slamming into him like a tidal wave. Archer flinched as the shockwave hit, but a force field sprang into place, shielding him and Rosinante from the explosion. The force of the blast sent Doflamingo crashing backward, his laughter abruptly silenced.

As the dust settled, Archer squinted through the haze, and a fierce pride swelled within him. Ace, Sabo, and a bruised Law strode forward, fury radiating from them. “Get the fuck away from our dads, you piece of shit!” Ace bellowed, fists clenched tightly. The flames dancing around him flickered in sync with his anger.

“Touch our dad again and die!” Sabo shouted, his voice a low growl, mirroring Ace's intensity. Law stood at their side, battered but unbroken, glaring at the man who had caused them so much pain.

“What a charming little family reunion,” Doflamingo drawled, sarcasm dripping from every word. “Nephews, how sweet. Lovely to see you, but aren’t you missing one?” He chuckled mockingly, eyes glinting with malice as he surveyed the brothers.

The air crackled with tension as Luffy swung into view, his usual carefree demeanor replaced by a fierce determination. “Get away from my family!” he shouted, joining his brothers in their shared rage. With a battle cry that shook the air, Luffy charged forward, his fists primed to strike.

Archer felt a surge of adrenaline as the boys launched themselves at Doflamingo, an unstoppable force combining their strengths. They fought with a ferocity that took Archer's breath away, each punch thrown and each kick delivered resonating with the weight of their shared history.

Ace led the charge, his flames erupting around him as he swung a fist at Doflamingo’s face, only to have the string-user dodge with an arrogant grin. “You think you can take me on?” Doflamingo taunted, flicking his wrist to send a barrage of strings whizzing toward Ace. But Ace was quick, launching himself out of the way and firing back with a fiery counterattack.

Sabo joined in, unleashing a flurry of powerful strikes, his fists crackling with lightning. “You’re not getting away this time!” he yelled, anger fueling every move. The sound of their punches echoed through the street, a battle cry that rang out loud and clear.

Doflamingo retaliated, using his strings to deflect their attacks and counter with brutal precision. But Luffy was undeterred, swinging in with his signature Gum-Gum attacks. “Gum-Gum Pistol!” he shouted, launching his fist at Doflamingo with an unstoppable force.

The fight surged into the main plaza, a chaotic dance of power and fury as Doflamingo struggled to keep up with the onslaught. He laughed derisively, trying to regain control, but the brothers pressed on, unyielding in their pursuit.

Archer watched, a mixture of pride and anxiety twisting in his gut. “Keep pushing! Don’t let him breathe!” he yelled, urging them on. Doflamingo was cornered, and Archer could see the cracks in his confidence starting to show. Then Luffy with a crazy attack knocked him unconscious.

Archer dragged himself forward, every step felt like a battle against his own battered body. He was bruised and bleeding, his chest and arms marked with angry scratch marks from Doflamingo’s earlier assault, and he was only clad in his pants. He felt a rush of adrenaline mixed with pain as he approached the unconscious warlord sprawled on the cobblestones of Dressrosa.

His heart pounded in his ears, and he forced himself to focus on the task at hand. Standing over Doflamingo, he held out his hand, a silent request for Law’s sword. Without a moment's hesitation, Law stepped forward, his expression unreadable as he handed the weapon to Archer.

Archer’s grip tightened around the hilt, a grim smile creeping across his face as he looked down at Doflamingo’s unconscious form. “This is for all the pain you caused,” he murmured, and without further ado, he swung the sword with a swift, practiced motion. The blade sliced cleanly through Doflamingo’s wrists, severing both hands with a sickening thud.

As Doflamingo’s body fell limp, Archer took a deep breath, the weight of the moment hitting him hard. He handed the sword back to Law, feeling the rush of victory wash over him. He turned away, the adrenaline beginning to ebb as the reality of his injuries set in.

Rosinante rushed forward, enveloping Archer in a fierce embrace, as if afraid he would disappear into thin air again. Archer melted into the hug, resting his head against Rosi’s shoulder.

“I’m okay,” he whispered, his voice rough but reassuring. His fingers grazed over Rosinante’s wounds, concern flooding him. “I love you,” he murmured softly, looking into Rosi’s eyes, searching for any sign of fear or doubt.

Rosinante’s grip tightened around him, his expression a mixture of relief and worry. “You scared me,” he replied, his voice trembling slightly. “I thought I lost you.”

Archer shook his head, leaning in closer. “Not a chance. I’m not going anywhere.” He gently brushed his thumb over Rosi’s cheek, his heart swelling with gratitude.