Gabster

This arose from a conversation with my friends where they asked me if I ever planned on rebranding form otaku553 and then one of them suggested onepiecealbedo553 to combine my interests and I said. Wait that could work. The crossover not the username

This is like the Kirby crossover more of a fandom fusion crossover. The main points stay the same— albedo is still an artificial life form created by Rhinedottir out of inorganic materials, left to his own devices after she leaves him. He’s able to play off most of the “being a homunculus” by saying he ate a devil fruit that made him into chalk, and most people believe him because nobody really scrutinizes devil fruit users that much.

Initially his main goal is to get to Vegapunk to ask if he knows the whereabouts of Rhinedottir, but perhaps because Rhinedottir was not on good terms with the marines he doesn’t want to interact with the world government or marines much either. I arbitrarily chose to put him with the Spades, mostly because the Spades are the kind of rough-and-tumble crew that he would be out of place in, but still filled with individuals that don’t feel that they belong elsewhere.

Ace was sitting cross-legged beside you, his eyes flickering to the horizon as you buried yourself in a book, one of the many novels you'd brought along during your travels. The two of you often found these moments together—quiet but meaningful, the kind where words weren’t always necessary.

He leaned over and lightly nudged your arm. "Hey, you missed a page."

You blinked and looked down, realizing he was right. "I swear, you’ve got a sixth sense for these things," you muttered, grinning and shaking your head.

"Maybe," Ace said, a mischievous smirk tugging at his lips. "I just pay attention."

You went back to reading, but a few minutes later, a small gust of wind blew a stray strand of hair in your face. You swiped it out of the way with a frustrated huff, but before you could get back into your book, Ace was already there, plucking the hair from your face with ease and then put his hat on you. You glanced at him and caught a glint in his eyes, something mischievous, yet gentle.

"Always looking out for me, huh?" you teased, but you didn’t mind. You were used to this.

"Always, besides my hat looks good on you" he replied without missing a beat, his voice low and warm.

Ace laned back, letting his head rest in your lap. It was a familiar feeling, his warmth against you, the softness of his hair beneath your hand. You absently ran your fingers through his hair as you continued reading, and you realized that in moments like these, words felt unnecessary. The quietness between you was comfortable, more than any loud confession could convey.

Not far from you, Marco and Thatch were watching the scene unfold with knowing glances. It was clear to them what was happening. Marco had once casually remarked, "You two are like an old married couple," and while you had laughed it off at the time, there was truth in his words.

Thatch, had even tried teasing you both, but Ace was too oblivious to pick up on it. You, too, seemed unaware of how others saw the quiet closeness between you and Ace. You both laughed, fought, and drank together, never seeing the way the crew looked at the bond you shared.

Ace would often poke fun at you, calling you out for being so serious with your books, but that was just his way of showing affection. You’d shoot back with playful jabs, calling him an "immature lighter," and somehow, that made the bond feel even more familiar.

The meals were the same. You’d pass each other bites of food without thinking twice, sharing everything from a chunk of meat to the last piece of fruit you’d managed to snag. When one of you found something delicious, the other was right there, eagerly taking a taste. It was a give-and-take that had become second nature. You fed each other, laughed, and even bickered about who had the better choice of snacks.

Even when Ace would casually remove objects in your way when you were - once again - buried deep in a book you didn't need to acknowledge it. It was just Ace being Ace, looking out for you in his own way. And you didn’t mind. You were used to it, almost as though you didn't even notice how often it happened.

The Whitebeard Pirates watched all of this unfold - the deeper feelings growing between you was something the crew saw clearly. They’d exchange knowing looks when you two were together, sharing silent smiles over the quiet connection they saw blooming between you and Ace. But you and Ace were wrapped up in your own little bubble, caught in a routine that felt natural and right.

When the crew started teasing Ace about you, calling him out on his "sweetheart" moments or making sly remarks about your "togetherness," he’d scratch his head and offer his usual cheeky grin.

"Stop it," Ace would mutter, shooting the crew a half-embarrassed, half-challenging look. "We’re just looking out for each other."

And you’d back him up, saying something similar.

The Moby Dick had just docked on a new island, and you and Ace walked side by side down the gangplank, both excited for a change of scenery. The bustling atmosphere of the market greeted you immediately, with vendors shouting their wares and colorful stalls lining the streets. The salty air mixed with the smells of food, fried fish, roasted meat, and sweet desserts.

As you wandered, you couldn’t help but point out things you found interesting, a new fruit you wanted to try or a beautiful piece of clothing that caught your eye. Each time, you’d grab Ace’s arm to guide him over, his larger, muscular frame easily following you as you tugged him along. It had become a sort of unspoken habit between you two, an easy way to share the things that sparked your interest.

But it wasn’t just you pulling Ace around. Every now and then, Ace would grab your hand without thinking, drawn by the enticing smell of something delicious. You’d laugh at how quickly he could get distracted by food, his hand slipping into yours as he led you to a food stall. It was such a natural, effortless thing. No hesitation, no questions asked.

As you made your way through the market, Marco and Thatch were trailing behind, watching the two of you with bemused expressions. They exchanged a glance, their eyes filled with unspoken understanding.

"I don’t get it," Thatch muttered under his breath, shaking his head. "How can they not see it?"

Marco, ever the calm and collected one, just sighed. "Maybe it's just how they are. I don’t know how much more obvious we can make it for them."

"You think they’ll ever figure it out?" Thatch asked, a teasing grin playing at the corners of his lips.

Marco just smirked. "Who knows? But right now I doubt it"

Later that evening, the Moby Dick rocked gently in the harbor as the crew gathered for a casual dinner. The mood was lighthearted, everyone still buzzing from the excitement of exploring the island. You and Ace were once again side by side, as always, laughing, sharing stories, and just enjoying the company of each other.

But that didn't go unnoticed by Marco and Thatch. They casually approached you both, their expressions a mixture of patience and mild amusement.

"You two," Marco began, his arms crossed as he looked between you and Ace, "have been attached at the hip all day. You've barely left each other's side. And honestly, this 'just friends' act is getting a little old."

Ace glanced at you and chuckled, oblivious. "What, we’re just hanging out. What’s the big deal?"

Thatch grinned and leaned in, pointing between you and Ace. "The thing is, you two spend way too much time together. It’s like you're... I don't know, cozy together. You walk around with your arms linked, feeding each other food, sharing quiet moments—hell, you even lay your head in her lap, Ace!" His grin widened as he observed the subtle look that passed between you and Ace, both of you completely unbothered by the comment.

You blinked, furrowing your brows. "What’s wrong with that? I can’t help it if Ace is always hungry and needs someone to share food with."

"That’s not what we mean," Marco added with a sigh, rubbing his temples. "We’re saying that you two are, well, really close. More than friends. Like, ridiculously close."

You and Ace exchanged another confused glance.

"I don’t get it," Ace said, scratching the back of his head. "We’ve always been this way. What’s wrong with hanging out together?"

Thatch leaned back dramatically. "It’s not about hanging out, Ace. It’s about... being together, together. You know, in that way."

You stared at them, still not catching on. "You mean... like, how we’ve always been? Why does it need a label?"

Marco facepalmed, clearly struggling to find the words. "What we’re trying to say is, you two should really be together, in a... you know, romantic way."

You blinked again, your mind still in denial. "But we are together, in a way. We’re best friends. That’s... that’s enough."

Ace gave a small nod. "Yeah, exactly. We’ve always been this close. No need to overthink it, right?"

The tension in the air was palpable, and it was clear that Marco and Thatch were beyond frustrated. Thatch leaned back and crossed his arms, giving up. "You two are hopeless."

Nearby, Whitebeard, who had been listening to the conversation, let out a hearty laugh, shaking his head in amusement. "You two are truly something else," he boomed, his deep laugh echoing through the ship. "I can't believe you’re this thick-headed."

You and Ace both looked over at him, still not quite getting the joke. "What do you mean, Pops?" you asked.

Whitebeard chuckled and just shook his head. "No one’s ever been this clueless about that before."

It was at that moment, as you both stood there, still completely confused, that Ace suddenly stood up with a grin, clearly eager to move past the conversation. "Well, I don’t know about all this, but I’m in the mood for a dance."

You blinked, surprised by his sudden suggestion. "A dance? Now?"

"Why not?" Ace grinned, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Let’s make the night a little more fun."

You hesitated for just a moment before a grin tugged at your lips. "Alright, I’m game," you said, not entirely sure where this was going but willing to play along.

The two of you found a clear space on the deck, and Ace, in his usual carefree manner, pulled you into a loose, playful dance. It wasn’t anything formal - just a bit of laughter, spinning, stepping in rhythm to the sounds of the crew's ongoing chatter. You both were far from professional dancers, but the simplicity of it felt easy, like everything else between you two. You would rest your head on his shoulder or he would pick you up and spin making you laugh even harder.

As you spun in Ace’s arms, you caught a glimpse of Marco and Thatch in the corner of your eye. They exchanged knowing glances, clearly still in disbelief at how long it was taking for you two to figure things out.

"You know," Thatch said, his voice loud enough for both of you to hear, "this is almost exactly how a couple dances."

Marco raised an eyebrow. "And they still don’t get it."

Whitebeard, still chuckling at the sight of you two, added, "Maybe this will be the night they finally wake up."

Ace laughed as he spun you one more time before pulling you back into his arms. "I still don’t know why they're so worked up about us," he muttered, his grin wide. "But I’m having fun."

You couldn’t help but laugh, your heart light and full of warmth. "Me too."

The dance with Ace had quickly turned into something more energetic than you expected. His infectious enthusiasm had you both laughing and spinning around the deck, your feet stumbling over one another more than once. You hadn’t realized just how out of breath you’d gotten until Ace finally slowed down, his arms holding you steady as you both tried to catch your breath, grinning at each other like you’d just won a battle.

"You’re gonna wear me out at this rate," you teased, your breath still coming in ragged bursts, your forehead resting against his chest as you leaned into him for support. The steady beat of his heart was like a calming rhythm against your cheek.

Ace laughed softly, a little winded himself, but clearly enjoying every moment of it. "Hey, if you can’t keep up, that’s on you," he joked, wrapping his arms around you loosely, his cheek resting atop your head for a moment.

Despite the laughter and the warmth between the two of you, Marco, Thatch, and Whitebeard stood off to the side, watching the scene unfold with wide eyes, clearly in disbelief. Marco’s face was a picture of exasperation as he rubbed the bridge of his nose.

"They’re really not getting it, are they?" Marco muttered to himself, shaking his head in disbelief. "How can they not see it?"

Thatch chuckled, crossing his arms as he leaned against the ship’s railing. "This is too good. We’ve practically had to spell it out for them, and they’re still acting like nothing’s happening."

Whitebeard, standing nearby, just laughed heartily, shaking his head at the young pair.

"You’d think after everything today—hell, the way they’ve been acting all this time—they’d get it," Marco said, still stunned. "But no, they’re just... friends. Sure."

Meanwhile, you and Ace were still wrapped up in the warmth of the moment, his arms around your waist and yours around his neck, enjoying the simplicity of each other's company.

You pulled back slightly, looking up at Ace with a smile, and he met your gaze with his signature grin, still blissfully unaware of the whispers around you. "Well, that was fun," you said, your voice still light from laughter. "I don’t think I’ve laughed this much in ages."

"Same here," Ace agreed, before you both let go of each other. He gave you a playful nudge, then glanced back at the others. "You guys should join in next time, you know? No need to stand around looking all serious."

The next few days passed in the same easygoing rhythm. You and Ace continued to spend nearly every waking moment together, and it was clear to everyone around you just how close you two were. Whether it was sharing meals, joking around, or just enjoying each other's presence, it seemed natural—so natural, in fact, that neither of you thought much of it.

You’d walk together, arms linked, holding hands, or sometimes Ace would casually slide his arm around your waist as you both strolled across the ship, laughing at something ridiculous that had happened. Every time Ace was hungry, you’d end up sharing your food with him, like it was second nature. Even when he’d lay down on the deck to rest, his head would always end up in your lap, both of you lost in the peace of the moment. It was nothing out of the ordinary, at least, not to you.

However, as the days wore on, it became more and more difficult for the rest of the crew to ignore just how cozy you two were. Every little gesture, every shared look, every soft laugh - it was all starting to make a lot of sense to the others.

One day, as you and Ace walked across the deck, lost in a conversation about something trivial, Thatch couldn’t help but watch. He exchanged a glance with Marco, who had a very similar look of resignation on his face.

“Alright,” Thatch muttered under his breath, nudging Marco. “I think I finally get it.”

Marco raised an eyebrow. "You do?"

“Yeah,” Thatch said, leaning in closer as the two of you passed by, still oblivious to what was going on. "They’re not just clueless. They’re extremely innocent and on top of that plain dumb."

Marco sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. "I’ve never seen anything like it. They’re acting like a couple - but -" he paused, as if trying to process the ridiculousness of it, "they genuinely have no idea."

Thatch grinned. "Every single thing they do together screams couple. And still, they look at us like we’re speaking some foreign language when we try to explain it."

Marco, too, found it hard not to laugh at the absurdity of it all. "You’d think after all this time, they’d at least get the hint."

It had been days of watching you and Ace and Marco and Thatch couldn’t take it any longer.

One evening, after dinner, Marco casually called you over to sit with him and Thatch. You and Ace were both in the middle of chatting, but after a quick exchange of glances, you found yourselves being pulled toward the two men who were clearly on a mission to finally make you understand what had been going on.

Marco and Thatch sat across from you and Ace, looking like two men about to embark on the most difficult mission of their lives. Marco rubbed his temples, while Thatch was already looking like he regretted getting involved.

“Alright, listen,” Thatch started, leaning forward like he was about to deliver top-secret information. “We need to have a serious talk.”

Ace, lounging lazily with his arms crossed, blinked at them. “About what?”

“You two,” Marco said, pointing between you and Ace like it should be obvious.

You and Ace exchanged a glance before you shrugged. “What about us?”

Thatch groaned. “Okay, how do we put this… You do everything a couple does. You drink together, laugh together, share food—”

Ace nodded. “Yeah, so?”

Marco threw up his hands. “You sleep in each other’s beds!”

You tilted your head. “It’s comfortable.”

Thatch’s eye twitched. “Ace carries you around when you’re tired.”

“Well, walking is exhausting,” you replied.

Marco pointed a finger at Ace. “And you tuck her in when she falls asleep on the deck!”

Ace huffed. “I don’t just leave her lying around like some abandoned crate!”

Marco leaned forward, trying to get through to you like a teacher dealing with the class clown. “And doesn’t that mean something to you?”

You and Ace exchanged another glance before looking back at them. “Uh… yeah?” Ace said slowly.

Thatch perked up, hopeful. “Oh? It does?”

“Yeah,” you confirmed. “It means we’re really close friends.”

Marco made a sound so strangled it could’ve come from an injured seagull. “No! Not just friends! You’re together-together!”

You frowned. “We are together. I mean, we’re here right now, sitting together.”

Thatch looked at Marco. “I swear, they’re killing me.”

Marco took a deep breath, then leaned forward with the patience of a saint trying to explain something to a particularly stubborn toddler. “Okay. Listen closely.”

You and Ace nodded attentively.

“When you see each other,” Marco continued, speaking slowly, “do you feel warm inside? Maybe like… butterflies?”

You and Ace exchanged another glance.

“…From drinking?” Ace asked.

Thatch smacked the table. “NO! From love!”

You tapped your chin. “Hmm. I mean, I do like Ace.”

Ace grinned. “Yeah, and I like her.”

Thatch and Marco both perked up. “Okay, great! Now—”

“But, like, friend like,” you added.

Ace nodded sagely. “Yeah. Deep, deep friendship.”

Marco dragged a hand down his face. “You’re messing with us, right? You have to be messing with us.”

Thatch was now pacing, waving his hands around like a madman. “Okay, fine! Let’s break this down further. When you touch, like when you hold hands, doesn’t it feel… different?”

Ace thought for a moment, then shrugged. “I mean, her hands are pretty soft.”

You nodded. “His are warm.”

Thatch’s eye twitched again. “No. No. Not physically! I mean, do you feel a spark? A rush? Maybe a deep longing?”

Ace frowned. “A deep longing?”

You blinked. “For what?”

Marco groaned into his hands. “To be together!”

Ace and you exchanged yet another confused glance before turning back to them. “But we are together,” you said slowly.

Thatch threw his hands up. “As a COUPLE!”

There was a pause. You and Ace both sat there, staring at them with blank expressions, as if they had just tried to explain rocket science to two particularly dense sea kings.

Then, Ace nodded thoughtfully. “Ohhh… I get it.”

Thatch and Marco sighed in relief.

“You think we should be a couple,” Ace continued.

“Yes!” Marco and Thatch shouted in unison.

Ace scratched his chin. “Hmm. Should we?” He turned to you, eyes casual. “Wanna kiss?”

You gave a nonchalant shrug. “Why not?”

Marco's jaw literally dropped, and Thatch choked on his drink, sputtering in shock. Whitebeard, who usually held the wisdom of the seas and the authority of a captain, was now wide-eyed, blinking in utter surprise. They all stared at you, processing what had just happened.

"Did... did you just say... 'Why not'?" Marco managed to ask, his voice half disbelieving, half amused.

"Yeah," you replied, still as casual as ever, "I mean, it seems like the next logical step, doesn’t it?"

Ace, looking just as unfazed as you, gave a relaxed grin and you both leaned in and kissed each other, as if this was the most natural progression in the world.

“OH MY GOD, STOP!” Marco shouted.

Thatch practically leapt out of his seat. “That is not how this works!”

Whitebeard, who had been listening from his throne, suddenly let out a deep, rumbling laugh. “Gurarara… I have never seen two people be so dense.” Marco and Thatch nodded vigorously.

And then it happened.

You couldn’t hold it in anymore. The laughter bubbled up from deep within you and you burst into giggles. It was so sudden, so unexpected, that even Ace shot you a confused look.

"Hey! Stop!" Ace said, trying to keep his own grin hidden, though it was clear he was fighting a smile. "You're ruining the act!"

But it was too much. The act, the drama, the whole charade - you couldn't keep up with it any longer. "I’m sorry!" you managed between laughs, your eyes sparkling with mischief. "I just couldn't keep it up anymore."

“…Wait,” Marco said slowly.

Thatch narrowed his eyes. “Are you two…?”

Ace grinned. “Oh yeah. We’ve been together this whole time. Of course we knew what was going on between us. We just thought it was funny watching you guys try to explain it to us.”

"You guys... you guys really thought we didn’t know?" You leaned against Ace’s shoulder, still chuckling. "We’ve been together together the whole time. The whole time, guys."

Silence.

“You little shits.”

Thatch looked personally betrayed, and Marco just sighed, leaning back as if he had aged ten years in five minutes. Whitebeard, who had been listening nearby, suddenly let out a deep, booming laugh, shaking his head.

“I should’ve known,” he chuckled. “Only Ace would turn his love life into a prank on the crew.”

Marco stared at you both in disbelief. “You......You mean to tell me we just wasted half an hour-”

“More like weeks,” Whitebeard added with a chuckle.

Thatch collapsed onto the table, face down. “I hate you both.”

Ace laughed, throwing an arm around you as you grinned. “Aw, come on. You gotta admit - it was really funny.”

Marco just stared at the two of you, shaking his head in disbelief. "I... I honestly can’t believe this," he muttered. "You two were playing us this whole time?"

You simply shrugged with a smirk. "Yeah, you were so cute trying to explain it, though. We just couldn’t resist."

Ace laughed again, his arm still around you as if it was the most natural thing in the world. "Guess we got a bit of a kick out of watching you all scramble."

Marco groaned, standing up. “I need a damn drink.”

Thatch pointed at you both. “You’re menaces.”

You looked at Ace, a playful smile tugging at the corners of your lips. You intertwined your fingers with his, feeling the warmth of his hand in yours nefore leaning in again to kiss him.