#not even getting into how ‘dead parent’ is a cheap and easy motivating tactic (though it certainly is that)

[the-obnoxious-sibling]

Does one piece goes like most shonen or does it as you said subverts the ideas? I only watched the most popular ones so idk what are the tropes

(context, i think?)

i think it depends on the trope! not all of which are specific or exclusive to shonen, for the record.

there are some concepts and topics where one piece likes to play with your expectations.

the protagonist with mysterious parentage is… pretty common in shonen. either he has no idea who his dad is, or he knows but his dad’s a mysterious person, never around or never able to answer our hero’s questions. how frustrating! we want answers about our hero’s heritage, the legacy he’s inherited! luffy… doesn’t care about any of that. dragon who? the legacy luffy’s inherited is gold roger’s, a man he has no relation to whatsoever. (though certain fan theories wondered otherwise, for a time.) because blood doesn’t matter, your dreams and will and choices do! the marines don’t believe that, and they’re dead wrong. trying to execute roger’s biological son does nothing for them—it’s in trying to kill whitebeard’s chosen son, luffy’s chosen brother, that they get the war they’ve been wanting.

other concepts are sacrosanct.

the power of friendship™️ is a joke in english-speaking anime/manga fandom, the concept comes up so often in shonen and shojo, but i don’t think one piece would ever mess with that. the importance of your friends, and what you are willing and able to do for them, is so essential to the series. characters can leave, thinking they’re looking out for the crew’s safety, but luffy is gonna get them to admit what they really want (which is to stay part of his crew), and he’s going to bring them back. to do otherwise would be a betrayal of certain fundamental themes of the series. …of course, you could make the argument that ace’s death was a betrayal of those themes. (it was certainly unexpected to a lot of readers—though some had cynically placed ace in a “mentor big brother = DOOMED” box in their heads years prior.) but that loss ends up being foundational to luffy’s resolve post-timeskip. what could have been a betrayal of themes instead reinforced them: luffy’s failed once, there is no way he’s failing again.

and then there are things not sacrosanct so much as… not thought through?

for an example of something played almost too straight, just look at zoro’s backstory. the existence of a girl who dies and is therefore the root motivation for our hero’s entire life is classic fridging. the whole tashigi-is-secretly-kuina fan theory sprung out of the belief that there had to be more to kuina’s story than that, that it couldn’t just be… that.

[the-cookie-of-doom]

@alexa-alcantara this is for you 😘

“Why are you doing this?” Mitch slurred, barely able to keep his eyes open. Ronnie unwound the chain from his savaged wrists, but left the rope, just in case Mitch got it in his head to try and run. Not that he’d be able to. Ronnie worked him over good.

“I want Hurley. The sooner you give him to me, the sooner this can end.”

Mitch collapsed once he was free of the chains, unable to keep himself standing. Ronnie was right there to catch him though, his arms strong and secure around Mitch’s middle, and he whimpered quietly from the pain. His voice was shot from screaming, too bad for anything much louder, raw and hoarse.

“Gonna have to try harder… not gonna break… that easy…”

“Everyone breaks eventually. Don’t worry, I got nothing but time.” Mitch snorted. He held no illusions that Hurley was coming for him. No one would. That was the job he accepted.

“Did you?” Mitch asked when Ronnie eased him onto a cot. He was too tired to fight. Too tired to question it. He didn’t know how long it’s been since he slept—a few days, at least—but the effects of sleep deprivation were old friends.

“Did I what?”

“Break.” Mitch saw the scars, and Ronnie had to learn the techniques he now employed on Mitch from somewhere. He was no novice to torture.

The question made the man pause. Mitch didn’t know what he was doing, but stopped whatever it was. If not for his steady breaths, Mitch would have no idea he was even still there.

Then, finally, he repeated, “Everybody breaks eventually.” There was something different in his voice. Something quiet.

“How—” Mitch worked his tongue, trying to wet his dry mouth, “How long?”

“A few weeks. Two, maybe three. I don’t have an exact number.”

“I’m gonna break your record,” Mitch said with a bloody grin.

Ronnie was impressed by Mitch’s tenacity, to say the least. Even beaten half to death, the kid was still trying to take cheap shots at his pride. Ronnie couldn’t decide if Mitch was just that much of a punk that he couldn’t control his own mouth, of if he was trying to goad Ronnie into killing him before he gave anything up. If it was the latter, then Mitch would be sorely disappointed. But if it was the former, then, well, at least things wouldn’t be dull.

“Y’know, kid. I think we could’ve been friends.”

“Go fuck yourself.” Ronnie laughed. He finally brought whatever supplied he’d gathered over to the cot.

“Really, we’re pretty alike, you an I. I see a lot of myself in you.”

Mitch froze when Ronnie’s weight made the thin mattress dip, tilting Mitch towards him. Then the other man started working open his belt and pants, it was enough to make Mitch fight back again.

“Get the fuck away from me.” He tried to push at Ronnie with his bound hands, but he was too sluggish and weak to be effective. Ronnie easily subdued him with his wrists pinned above his head. Cold dread filled him, and fear locked his limbs as he remembered Hurley’s gruff words: If you think only woman get raped in the field, you’re dead wrong. Expect it, be prepared for it, and let the possibility of it happening motivate you not to get captured.

Yeah, especially you, Rapp, Victor had said. Pretty thing like you, I’m sure someone would love to make you their bitch.

“Hey, hey, relax. I’m just trying to get a look at your leg,” Ronnie soothed. He took his hands away from Mitch at some point, careful not to touch is skin as he waited for the panic to subside. “I do have standards,” he added. He even managed to sound offended. As if that was the only thing wrong with this picture.

Despite the reassurance Mitch still fought, crossing his legs and locking them together so Ronnie couldn’t get the bloodstained jeans much past his hips. Ronnie solved that problem by sighing and grabbing a knife to cut off the garment, slicing Mitch’s skin in the process.

“Now see, I was going to let you have them back when I was done.”

Mitch watched Ronnie like a hawk, his eyes wide and tracking his every movement, adrenaline flooding his system. His heart beat a raucous pulse against his ribcage. But Ronnie ignored him for the most part. He poured alcohol into a bowl and dipped in a pair of forceps.

“This is going to hurt,” he warned, then dug into the bullet wound in Mitch’s left thigh. He have a strangled scream, back arching as he tried to writhe away from the pain. Blunt metal fished around in his ragged flesh, the forceps opening to grab the bullet lodged deep inside. Ronnie pulled it free with a wet squelch. The sound made Mitch want to pass out a little bit. His hypervigilance was the only thing keeping him conscious. Stubbornness played a part as well. Screaming was cathartic, made the pain easier to bear, but losing out was a sign of weakness. He didn’t want to give Ronnie the satisfaction, and didn’t trust the man with his unconscious body.

Mitch’s leg was trembling when Ronnie had him prop it up. He took a minute to clean up the blood and staunch the flow before he wound bandages around it with tender care.

“I hate you,” Mitch rasped as Ronnie worked. He didn’t know what new tactic this was, taking him down and tending to him, and he didn’t especially care, but he knew it couldn’t mean anything good. He’s just making sure I survive for more torture.

“Where’s Hurley holed up, Mitch?” Ronnie asked gently, starting to clean up the other wounds he’d inflected.

“I don’t know.”

“Yes, you do. Where is he? Where’s the safe house?”

“I don’t know.”

“Tell me and I’ll give you something for the pain.”

“Get fucked.”

“Oh, Mitch.” Ronnie gave a disappointed sigh. “One of these days you’ll learn. Do you think Hurley would go through al this effort to protect you? ‘Course not. You’re here, aren’t you?”

“’You go down out there, you’re a ghost, you don’t exist. Ain’t nobody coming back from you’,” Mitch quoted. “May as well kill me now—I’m not giving you shit.”

“Are you really prepared to die for him?”

“You tell me, since you know me so well.”

“Tell you what, kid. I’m not gonna kill you. I like you. I think you can still be useful to me. If you don’t want to give me information, that’s fine, I have other needs.” Mitch felt that cold fear again—he was stupid for not hiding it better before, giving Ronnie such a clear threat to use against him. But he wouldn’t fold from just a threat. Ronnie must’ve realized, because he just said, “But don’t you worry about that right now. Get some rest. I’ll be back to play with you in the morning.”

“Don’t go out of your way on my account, I’m sure you’re busy.”

“Never too busy for you, darlin’.” Ronnie pat Mitch’s cheek, tied him to the cot, and left him in the dark.

***

Ronnie took a drink of the water to prove it wasn’t poisoned before tipping the bottle to Mitch’s lips. He appreciated the gesture for what it was even if it didn’t allay his suspicion. It wouldn’t do to have him dying of dehydration before Ronnie exhausted all possible leads to extract the information he wanted.

“I’m going to get out of here,” Mitch said, matter of fact. He knew it was true because he would make it so. He wouldn’t allow himself to die here.

“Is that so? And how are you gonna do that, darlin?” Ronnie had that sweet, indulgent tone of a parent patiently listening to a child’s whims and stories. Mitch bristled at the condescension, but he didn’t care. It didn’t matter what Ronnie thought. Was probably better if he believed Mitch was thoroughly trapped.

“Haven’t figured it out yet, but I will.” Mitch knew a situation would present itself eventually, and he would patiently wait until that time came, saving his strength to take advantage of it. “I’m going to kill you, too.”