#silver rayleigh

[summershouto]

after whole cake angst and regular angst here is the promised sillies!!!

[kuroashims]

L E G A C Y

official art by animator takashi kojima

[mrteaspill]

Dad, who's my mom?

...

Garp, you've actually never told Dragon about the birds and the bees. At the ripe age of 17, you disturbed his worldview on where babies came from lmao.

Garp is also gonna tell Roger that each D. family has a unique ability, and would question how Roger didn't know shit (Roger prob a whole orphan idk)

This is also not Garp x Roger, or kinda is? It's fully platonic, tho

Edit: I changed my mind on that, im now a sucker for Garp x Roger help

[ilovedreming]

CHAPTER 2: THE DREAM

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Summary: The little girl hasn't woken up yet. Shanks has a lot of questions but no answers. Something unexpected intends to give him some clues.

Tags: Shanks x fem!oc, platonic relationship, swears(?), flashback, young Shanks.

(If you lost the first chapter, I recommend you read it or you won't understand much)

Five days had passed since the barrel was found in the sea, the fifth day since a veil of despair and apprehension had fallen over the entire crew. No one dared speak of the little girl under Hongo's care; it had become taboo. Every time the ship's doctor left the room, Shanks would meet his gaze and ask a simple, now silent question.

"Is she awake?" And each time the doctor would nod, each time negative.

Hongo removed the bandages, methodically cleaning each burn before applying fresh ointment. He was satisfied with his work; the wounds were now a healthier color and healing quickly, and he was relieved that the little girl was better, but he was starting to worry about his captain.

Whenever Shanks wasn't busy or occupied with whatever captain's duties were, he was always at the little girl's side, always on a nearby stool, watching Hongo tend to her wounds, asking questions about her wounds, whether he thought they were precise enough to be inflicted by a human or whether they had edges that could have been caused by an accident. His attachment to the little girl was evident to the entire crew; some believed it was because Luffy had awakened something within him, something paternal; others believed it was because fate had brought her to them, and Shanks felt responsible.

In any case: It was clear to everyone that they would care for the little girl as if she were a member of the crew.

Night had fallen over the sea, and Shanks felt its weight on his eyelids. The rocking of the waves, which for years had punctuated his sleep, was just a distant sound that night, unable to drown out the incessant buzzing of his thoughts.

The girl.

The Kitetsu.

Images raced through his mind: the arrival of the barrel, the unconscious girl inside, and that blade... that damned wakizashi that carried with it the air of a storm. A dull headache throbbed at his temples. With a sigh that seemed to echo in the silence of the cabin, he ran his hand over his face.

He was wearing only his pants, and for the first time in a long time, he had removed the bandages from his stump. His skin, marked by reddish scars, itched with a feverish insistence. The soothing ointment Hongo had prepared for him seemed an ineffective remedy against an ailment that seemed to be awakening beneath his torn skin. Shanks's attention was drawn to the corner of the room. There, leaning next to Gryphon, the Kitetsu rested in its battered sheath.

But "rest" wasn't the right word.

Shanks closed his eyes, letting his Haki expand. There was no peace in the weapon. It was a dull hum, a suppressed vibration, like the muffled roar of a caged beast.

Shanks stood.

The wood of the floor was cold beneath his bare feet. He reached for his sword, and his hand closed around the hilt. It wasn't like holding Gryphon; there wasn't the familiar response of self-extension here, but the tense sensation of grasping something untamed. He drew the blade.

Instantly, the intricate bluish veins of the metal caught the shafts of moonlight streaming in from the porthole, lighting up with an internal glow. Beneath his fingers, the steel vibrated. It wasn't a simple tremor, but a silent language, heavy with intent.

"Where do you come from?" Shanks murmured, his voice a whisper in the stillness. The question, directed at an object, immediately struck him as foolish. He was about to put it away, half smirking at himself, when it happened. A flash. A thin thread of blue energy shot from the tip of the Kitetsu, striking his bare abdomen. It wasn't pain, but a sharp, startling electric tingle, followed by the faint, acrid smell of burned skin.

"Enough," Shanks said, his voice firmer. "I need to sleep." He returned the blade to its sheath with determination. But as he did so, another detail leaped out at him, finally clear in the moonlight: the sheath.

It was too ordinary, too short, unworthy of housing a weapon with such a turbulent soul. It was like hiding a hurricane in a wooden box.Too many questions. Too many enigmas. He shook his head, as if to physically dispel them. He lay down again, turning his back on the Kitetsu.

Perhaps it was exhaustion, perhaps the momentary relief of having interrupted that silent dialogue with the blade, but this time sleep came quickly, enveloping him, while the wakizashi continued its restless vigil in the shadows.

That night, Shanks had a dream after a long time, and he had the answers he was looking for.

The sky was reflected in the sea below, the stars dotted the sheet of water. Shanks was a boy again and He found himself back on the deck of the Oro Jackson. The silence was a dense presence, broken only by the sound of the waves against the hull and Buggy's soft snores, and by the blurred colors of his friend, seemingly curled up near the mainmast.

It was then that he heard confused voices.

They were coming from the captain's cabin, left ajar; the light reflected in his mind, blocking his vision. A deep laugh, familiar as thunder, that of Gol D. Roger, pierced his mind with absolute clarity, followed by a deeper, more thoughtful one: that of Silvers Rayleigh.

Driven by curiosity, Shanks approached the door, his body moving on its own, retracing the movements of that night many years ago.

"It's not a legend, Rayleigh..." Roger was saying, and there was a tone in his voice that Shanks remembered hearing only when they were talking about Laugh Tale. "It really exists, it's true, we're talking about Aethelpart." The name. He fell silent like a stone in a deep pool.

“It’s an island that doesn’t want to be found,” Roger continued. “Hidden not only by the currents or the eternal mists, but by the very logic of the Log Poses. Its magnetic lines… are absent. As if the island were breathing, and in that breathing, it was canceling out its own magnetism.” Shanks remembered that name as if it were imprinted on his mind.

“The very rock of Athelpart,” the Captain continued, his voice a whisper of wonder. “It’s imbued with an incredible metal. I’ve only seen a fragment of it, brought by a sailor so drunk that no one believed him; they said he was crazy. Blueish veins, like rivers of night sky trapped in the stone. And those veins…not only repel all electromagnetic force. They neutralize the field itself; they call it Deep Sky.”

Rayleigh made a thoughtful sound. “A material that obliterates modern technology.” What a baleful power.”

“Power? Or protection?” Roger retorted.

“Athelpart is not an arsenal, Rayleigh. It is a forge. An island of blacksmiths whose art has been passed down since legends were chronicles. They say they forge blades not with fire and hammer, but with the song of the stars and the patience of the mountains. Swords that do not vibrate, do not resonate, but cut through destiny itself. Weapons so pure they cannot be possessed, only guarded.”

Shanks felt a shiver run down his spine; a cold current had probably made his true body shiver, but he couldn't be sure. Even if those he'd "heard" weren't the words of treasure, wealth, or conquest he often heard. They were words of myth.

“And why has no one ever been there? Why don't they believe it's real?” Rayleigh asked, voicing the question throbbing in the boy's mind. Roger's laugh was as soft as the pillow Shanks rested on, almost wistful.

"Because Athelpart doesn't show herself to those who seek her. She shows herself to those who need her, or to those crazy enough to believe an island can choose its visitors. The Log Poses don't find her because she doesn't want to be a dot on a map. She wants to remain a question in the heart of the sea, a sigh in history."

The conversation shifted to other routes, other seas.

Shanks slipped away, returning to his bed, but Athelpart's name burned in his mind like the embers of a distant forge. The world around him slipped from clarity, bringing him back to a dreamless sleep.

He remembered never having spoken of it to anyone, not even Buggy; it had become his secret, his treasure.

The next morning, the man thought back to the dream as he found himself staring at the ceiling of his room. Perhaps the places and faces were hazy, but he was certain of the words he had heard; they were as clear as the dawning sky.

Shanks looked at the Kitestu, thinking that the dream was merely a coincidence of timing. But deep down, he knew that the sword had responded to him, that it had sought a connection with him after the small shock the night before.

[buggysfeet]

ART DUMP!!!

Many of this are VERY old maybe they go back to the last post date. I repeat I love drawing fem buggy(probably ‘cause I can’t draw man). And I genuinely love buggy soooo much. All my friends every time they see a buggy edit just think of me. These are not all the drawings I got, so I’ll divide this in more posts. Anyway sorry for the grammar of any of these, since I said these were kinda old it also applied to my English level. English is not my first language so every day is an opportunity to learn more, and I can tell only now how wrong what I wrote in these images are grammatically incorrect. But also I’m too lazy to go and change the texts or correct them, so I’ll just post them the way they were originally written. Anyway I got inspiration from other posts or made old trends, so if you see a resemblance is mostly because of that.

[stillxnunpxidintern]

All of the Silver Rayleigh that I have on Treasure Cruise so far.

[zonaenthusiast]

Shakuyaku being interested in Rayleigh because he's the only person acting normal around her is actually a very good parallel with both Hancock/Luffy and Hiyori/Zoro.

I mean, the three women are known for their splendid beauty and the three of them seem to have a different relationship with it and how it affects them (we still have to know more about Shakuyaku but for Hancock and Hiyori, especially the former I would say, their beauty has a lot to do with their respective traumas).

So no wonder the three of them fell in love with the one person they ever knew that didn't seem impressed by it. Rayleigh, Luffy and Zoro saw beyond that, treated them how they would treat everyone else and they appreciated that until it became something more.

(I do have problems with the Luffy/Hancock age gap but I get the sentiment behind her character)

[art-of-firefly]

Overlooked thing in One piece is how almost all the older characters are heavily depressed and lost their will to do anything or to chase their true dream.

Rayleigh, Kaido, Crocodile, Shanks, Moria, Brook, i could add hundreds more examples.

What i love about this is :

1. Oda doesn't shy away from writing mental illness, and he writes it well. He shows that even the strongest people can suffer from it. To feel unwell, to lose sight of happiness and will to live doesn't make you weak and it happens to everyone.

2. Allies or ennemies, Luffy give back their will and joy to everyone. He give them back their childhood dreams and wonder. What did most of his ennemis do after he defeated them ? Hid again and give up like they did when they were defeated in the past ? No. They found their will again. Crocodile, Buggy, Moria etc. So many of them were stagnant for decades until meeting Luffy.

Honestly, seeing Gaban living his best life and being happy was the biggest surprise of Elbaf. The only member of Roger crew who wasn't miserable.