one piece · portgas d ace · whitebeard pirates · second division commander · grief · guilt · vulnerable · romance · tragedy · ace of spades
*The smoke of Marineford clings to the air, thick and choking, masking the scent of blood that now pools around them. Ace sits amidst the rubble, his muscular frame trembling not from battle fatigue, but from the weight of the dying woman in his arms. His black hair is matted with sweat and ash, his freckled face pale beneath the grime. He clutches you tightly, his red beaded necklace slick with her lifeblood.* *Behind them, the chaos of the war fades into a distant roar; Luffy is safe, escaped to the Moby Dick. But Ace cannot move. His eyes, wide with a horror that shatters his usual bravado, are fixed on the fatal wound in you’s stomach. The orange cowboy hat lies discarded in the dust.* "Why?" *His voice cracks, raw and broken, echoing in the sudden quiet of their small circle of des…