Today in two months (05.05) is Luffy's birthday.
Could you maybe write an one shot of ShanksxMakino + kid Luffy ?
This is a bit belated, but here’s a little thing with Luffy from a new Shanks x Makino fic I’m working on!
A tender witchcraft
That gentleness was a kind of magic, if he believed in that sort of thing. But then, she’d made him believe in stranger.
The sniffles hadn’t relented, or the tears spilling over his cheeks where he sat on the chair clutching his knee, but at least the dramatics assured Shanks it wasn’t anything really serious, even if his heart was taking its time coming down from his throat. As resilient as kids were, and this kid in particular, seeing him trip and tumble down the gangplank had given him at least a few premature greys.
Still, “Come on, Luffy,” he chuckled, as Makino applied antiseptic to the scrape, gently wiping away the blood, having taken charge after Shanks had carried him in from the harbour. “It’s just a scrape. You’ve given yourself worse intentionally.” For emphasis, he gestured to his cheek, and the still-pink scar beneath his eye.
His lips pinched together, before Luffy blurted thickly, although with reassuring insistence, “Shut up! It hurts.”
His look softened, but then even raised to brush off scrapes and bruises (Rayleigh had had little patience for blubbering, or puppy eyes, although Shanks’ puppy eyes were still far superior to Buggy’s), he had a soft spot for the kid, exaggerated dramatics included.
His crew had gathered around to observe, but before he could ask his doctor to look at him, Makino was already one step ahead, having fished out a bright purple bandaid from the pocket of her apron where she sat on her knees.
“Watch,” she said, with the gently conspiring tone that knew how to steal even a seven-year-old’s fleeting attention, and even Shanks found himself observing with interest as she lifted the bandaid to her lips, a kiss pressed to the back of it, before she put it over his knee.
Luffy watched her, transfixed. His tears had stopped running, his attention zeroed in on the bandaid.
Smoothing down the edges, Makino withdrew her hands. “See?” she asked, wiping away his tears with a gentle thumb. “Nothing a little magic can’t fix.”
“Magic?” Luffy asked. Snot covered his upper lip; he cried like Shanks did, although it was decidedly cuter when you were seven than twenty-seven. Or at least so he’d been informed.
Her smile turned fey, as Makino tapped her lips with her forefinger, dragging Shanks’ eyes towards her mouth, although for a vastly different reason than what had Luffy so enraptured, as she said, “But that’s our secret, hm? Can’t have people finding out about my powers, or who knows what nefarious characters might show up.”
His eyes rounded, full of so much earnest belief, even if he’d wanted to tease him, Shanks couldn’t have brought himself to do it, as Luffy promised her fiercely, “I won’t tell!”
Then he fixed an expectant look at Shanks, observing with his arms crossed.
Blinking, “What?” Shanks asked. He’d been so distracted by her mouth, he’d completely missed his cue.
From the way Makino shyly ducked her gaze, he’d been rather obvious about it.
Of course, there was one who hadn’t noticed, but then pitched against that endearing obliviousness, even his lack of subtlety had to admit defeat.
“Promise you won’t tell anyone!” Luffy repeated, his expression fierce, as though failure to comply would be met with a demand to walk the plank.
He was almost tempted, if only because he was so much fun to rile up, but contrary to what some people believed, he did know self-restraint, and kneeling down to look him in the eye, “I promise I won’t tell a living soul about her,” Shanks said, wholly without teasing, and holding his pinky out, but then he didn’t care what Ben said; it was the very oldest and most sanctified of oaths. “And then she’ll be our secret to protect. How’s that sound?”
Round-eyed at the prospect of being part of such a pledge, a grin split his cheeks, before a tiny pinky hooked around his as Luffy swore, “Promise!”
Shanks smiled, his eyes shifting to the ones watching him, doe-brown and wide with a feeling he wasn’t prepared for, her earlier amusement replaced with a curiously vulnerable expression.
It did a strange thing to his heart, and his next words were out of his mouth before he could stop them.
“Of course, now that I know she’s been hiding magical healing powers, I might steal her away for myself,” Shanks said, and watched as Luffy’s grin dropped, the little pinky still hooked around his. “Would be really useful to have someone like her in my crew.”
Makino averted her eyes, which was telling even without catching her whole reaction, and it gave him entirely too much hope, Shanks thought.
Luffy’s reaction wasn’t any less vivid, betrayal written across his small features without apology. “You’re lying!”
Ever the peacekeeper, Makino was quick to interject. “You’re confident in your kidnapping skills,” she informed him primly, and when this didn’t mollify Luffy, “I’m a barmaid,” she said, gesturing to herself where she sat, her skirt pooling around her, and her apron with its embroidered flowers. “What would I do on a pirate ship, serve drinks?”
Shanks had a few ideas, imagining how she’d look climbing the shrouds, but, “Wouldn’t hear any complaints from us,” he said, only to receive a prim look in return.
“As tempting as that sounds, I’d rather be my own boss,” Makino said, and this time with gentle emphasis, “Captain.”
Before that new inflection could make him say something stupid, like promise her a bar if she wanted one, she’d turned to Luffy, a handkerchief fished out from the pocket of her apron to wipe his nose. “So don’t worry; I’m not going anywhere. I’m quite content where I am.”
Blowing into it, his voice was muffled by the fabric as Luffy asked her, “What’s ‘content’ mean?”
Folding it up, her smile gave away less than it usually did, as Makino gripped his chin gently, her thumb fleeting over the little scar on his cheek as she said, “It means I have everything I need.”
His grin was appeased by that, but then he was a little too young to understand that there was a difference between having everything you needed, and everything you wanted.
Shanks did, but then if there was one thing he’d learned from the months he’d spent with them, it was that.
Ruffling his hair, “Don’t worry, Anchor,” he said, as he pushed to his feet. “I won’t steal her away.”
He was conscious of the fact that he hadn’t offered his pinky this time, but Luffy didn’t seem to have noticed, although from the brown eyes fleeting up to his, Makino hadn’t missed it.
His heart did that thing again―that little hopeful jump.
His scrapes forgotten, Luffy jumped down from the chair. “You better not, or I’d come after you and save her!”
“Oh yeah?” Shanks asked, his hands on his hips as he bent down. “On which ship?”
His mouth opened, before Luffy turned his nose up. “I’d get one. One that’s way faster than yours!”
“Um, have you seen mine? Not to brag, but it’s pretty fast. I’ll take you for a spin if you want.” The last was said to Makino, along with a grin and a lift of his brows, and it was a little ridiculous what that smile did to him.
Luffy remained characteristically out of the loop. “I’ll get one that’s faster! And that can fly.”
“This kidnapping venture is looking more unlikely by the minute,” Makino mused, taking his hand as Shanks helped her to her feet, his thumb brushing her wrist, the kiss of a rough callous to the soft skin above her pulse startling a smile across her lips, before he released her hand.
He curbed his immediate response, which was to say he’d take the chance if she was game. Instead, “Yeah,” Shanks chuckled. “I probably shouldn’t risk it. There’s also Garp, who wouldn’t need a flying ship, just a cannonball and a good wind.”
“Hm,” Makino agreed, a demure look offered through her lashes as she brushed past him. “The wind probably wouldn’t make a difference.”
He was tempted to say he’d take the risk, but didn’t, suddenly afraid that it would come out sounding too sincere to be teasing, because it would be, and he was still coming to terms with what that meant for him, and her most of all.
Thankfully, Makino didn’t seem to suspect his threat of kidnapping was anything but teasing. “Why don’t you go wash your face, and I’ll make you your favourite for lunch?” she asked Luffy, who wasn’t hard to ask, and who’d bounced towards the stairs so fast, Shanks might have asked if her cooking was magic, too, if he didn’t already know the answer.
Left to themselves―or as much as they could be, with his whole crew filling the tables of her bar―he searched for a distraction before he could accidentally let slip the fact that he was seriously considering asking her to come with them when they left.
“Magic healing powers, huh?” he asked instead, and saw her look up at him, her brown eyes curved with her smile, a gentle witch with her spells and potions, her shelves filled with her bottled remedies, healing water and potions of truth, and her sweet voice that could draw a man’s secrets to the surface with a simple incantation: what can I get you? “What else have you been hiding from me?”
“Clearly I was right to hide it, otherwise you might have kidnapped me that first night you were here,” Makino countered primly.
His answer came before he could drag the words back. “Don’t speak too soon, because we still might.”
She wasn’t quick enough to hide her flustered grin, and he wondered then what she’d say if he did ask her. And just a few months ago, he couldn’t have imagined asking anyone, at least not for the reason he wanted to, which had nothing to do with what she could contribute to his crew.
But there was Luffy, and her bar, and her whole life here, and it wasn’t the prospect of being chased down by a flying ship or one of Garp’s cannonballs that kept the question from blurting from him now.
“So how long have you had these powers?” he asked her instead, hoping it might steer the conversation back onto a safer course, and away from the future that he’d never used to give so much thought, but that wouldn’t leave him alone now. “I’m just curious, as I’ve never encountered anyone who can heal with a kiss.”
“You’d be surprised how effective it can be,” Makino said, her eyes glittering. “All it takes is believing it works.”
“It probably helps when you’ve got a kid that adorably gullible,” Shanks said.
Her chin lifted; a demure bulwark to his teasing. This close, the full weight of her eyes would have given Mihawk a run for his money. “I think it’s one of his strengths,” Makino said. “And I hope he never changes.”
Smiling, Shanks said nothing, but then he’d been like Luffy, once―wide-eyed and gullible, and ready to believe in magic, and that the world was just, but the world had seen to that, and he felt a pang of sorrow then that there might come a day where those wide eyes wouldn’t be so full of wonder, and innocence.
“Yeah,” he murmured. “I hope so, too.”
The dark eyes looking up at him weren’t any less innocent, but meeting them, he was seized by the now-familiar sensation that they saw far more than he’d intended to show her.
But she didn’t ask what the world had done to leach that innocence from him, and while she couldn’t hide her curiosity, there was no judgement in those kind eyes where they saw him.
Shanks saw how they shifted to the left side of his face, before she surprised him by stepping closer, rising up on her toes as slender fingers gripped his chin gently, tilting his face down as she pressed her soft lips to his scars.
He didn’t breathe. In that second, it was like he’d forgotten how.
She lowered back on her heels, but didn’t draw away, her small frame inches from his front, the petite curves tempting his fingers, but he couldn’t move, even to reach for her, frozen under that gentle spell.
The small hand holding his chin trailed through his beard, before she placed her palm to his chest, brushing her fingers through the dark hair glimpsed through his half-open shirt. Shanks wondered if she could feel how fast his heart was beating.
Tilting her head, brown eyes lifted to his, as Makino asked him gently, “Did it work?”
He might have had a cheeky retort ready―something about trying again, this time with more tongue―but words failed him, although he thought she had her answer from the way her eyes softened.
And he hadn’t told her the truth about his scars―had brushed it off with laughter and some yarn about bears and cooking knives―but he knew that for all her guileless innocence, she hadn’t been fooled, and that she knew a kiss wasn’t enough to heal that wound, the scars on his pride and his self-image that all the laughter in the world couldn’t smooth over. But for the first time since they’d been given to him, Shanks didn’t feel them.
And that was her doing, he thought―the eyes that had never seen him without the scars, but that had only ever looked at him with kindness, and shyly flustered desire. And that was a power that had no scientific explanation; that was a kind of magic, gentle and uniquely hers.
Gripping her chin, he brushed his thumb across her cheek, smooth and unmarred under the pale constellation of her freckles, and as perfect as the rest of her: the one thing in this world that deserved that designation.
And his vow to Luffy hadn’t been in jest. If he could keep her safe, and that innocence, he’d do anything.
The corner of his mouth crooked, and, “I have another ache,” Shanks said.
And for all that she saw, and understood, in some respects she was as oblivious as Luffy, and the endearing wideness of her eyes was so innocent, he almost felt a pang of shame for being so shameless, as Makino asked him, “Did you throw out your back climbing aloft again?”
He thought he heard someone choking on their beer, but Makino only looked at him, her brows knitted gently above her eyes.
He might have taken offence if the question hadn’t been entirely in earnest, and so, “Not exactly,” Shanks chirped, his grin growing. “But it’s quite pressing. Fairly throbbing, actually.”
Leaning down, he heard her breath hitching as he asked her, his voice lowered and the words spoken with the graze of his beard to the sensitive skin beneath her ear, “Want to see if you can kiss it better?”
He felt the moment realisation hit her, the hot flush that deepened her cheeks, and it wasn’t innocence that widened her eyes now, but it said something about how far they’d come that her first reaction wasn’t to splutter but to blurt a laugh, before pinching his side in retaliation, until he was roaring from it, although her own was louder still, shrieking as he hoisted her up by the waist and over his shoulder, before striding for the doors.
Her laughter tumbled down his back, high-pitched and lovely. “What are you doing? I’m at work!”
“What does it look like I’m doing?” Shanks asked, the bat-wing doors singing as he pushed through them, his arm wrapped around her hips a little tighter than strictly necessary. “I’m kidnapping you.”
“He’s going to come looking for us,” Makino protested, although she was still laughing as he set off in the direction of the harbour, and his ship where it lay docked, and it was testament to how long they’d stayed here that no one in the village even batted an eye, only shook their heads fondly, but then given how her laughter carried between the cottages, he didn’t wonder why.
Turning his head towards her where she clung to his shoulder, her pink kerchief askew and her cheeks flushed, his grin held a promise he didn’t speak, thinking of the future now, and that he wouldn’t have minded if ten years down the line, a pirate ship were to seek him out, the fastest on the five seas, and her captain striding through their doors, just in time for lunch.
“He’ll have to find us first.”
(She did end up kissing it better, and by the time she was finished, Shanks had no trouble believing that she had magical powers.)