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reminder that piggy is the best lotf character (proven fact by scientists totally not an opinion)

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Some of you fuckers think about gender identity the way we taxonomize animal species instead of as a thing people do to express themselves.

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shoutout to his barber dawg🔥

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every time someone draws the lotf boys but leaves out piggy an angel dies

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has this been done yet

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why is everyone so afraid of drawing piggy fat. if i see skinny piggy again im going to lose my mind

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Yes, I did draw art of my own fanfiction. In the name of joy and whimsy.

Fic link lmao: (x)

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sillies

WHAT HAPPENED TO THE QUALITY BRO.

anyways i drew this for my friend's pfps on discord so i figured id post it here

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Ghostly buddies

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can the lotf hyperfixation end already i don’t like this place

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:(

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Ralph tucked his knees up to his chin and shivered.

He supposed that he had brought it upon himself, going out on the deck on a Winter night. Or, at least, he thought it was Winter. It was rather hard to tell, and none of the boys had thought to ask, not that Ralph would've retained it anyway.

Too much had happened – his brain was too full of events he'd rather not think about, and revelations made far earlier than he should've as a twelve year old boy. Was he still twelve? Lord, he didn't even know what year it was.

Ralph tore his eyes away from the strangely peaceful view and buried his face in his crossed arms. He wasn't crying, he'd done too much of that already.

He tried not to think about the hunters, who had mercifully been given a different room to himself and a few others (Although only after one of the younger Marines had begged the Captain to do so. In his own words “The blond one might go loopy”.)

He was half surprised Jack hadn't already sought him out, although he did think it made some sense. All those games seemed so silly now in the face of real, proper grown-ups.

And anyway, he was glad of the fact. Right now, he mostly wanted to be alone. He didn't want to see another person from the island. Not now, not ever.

That island had taken so much from him, from all of them, and he'd never dare say it aloud, but he had the awful feeling that a part of him would never leave, no matter how far he travelled.

Ralph felt a presence behind him and tensed up, but didn't raise his head, even though the gash on his stomach was starting to sting from his position.

He subconsciously held his breath as the faint footsteps approached, bracing to be hit or kicked or thrown overboard. Instead, he felt a slight weight around his shoulders and a much heavier one thumping down beside him.

He lifted his head (and definitely did not have to wipe his eyes), turning to the boy sitting beside him. The moonlight reflected off his broken (now Sellotaped) glasses as he stared directly at Ralph.

“Hi. I thought you'd be cold,” said Piggy.

Ralph made a faint noise of confirmation, looking down at the scratchy Navy issue blanket draped over his body. He wrapped it around himself.

“You were right,” said Ralph, “But I can't think that this is helping.”

Piggy pulled his own threadbare blanket tighter and surreptitiously shifted slightly closer to Ralph, who found that he didn't mind.

“You know,” said Piggy, changing the subject, “Penguins huddle together for warmth. The whole flock. Body heat, an’ that.”

“I'm sure the others would love that suggestion.”

As usual, Piggy seemed not to notice that sarcastic, bitter edge to Ralph's voice, opting to smile softly at him. Ralph couldn't help but give a small one back.

“Who cares what they think? It's you and me, now. We ought to look after each other,” said Piggy. He paused, then added a muttered “ ‘sides, there's no one around.”

Ralph considered this, checked for himself and realised that Piggy was right. He shuffled towards the tantalising warmth of the boy sat beside him until they were pressed against each other, shoulder to shoulder. With barely a second thought, Ralph let his head drop down to rest against Piggy, who started, then tentatively wrapped an arm around Ralph.

They stayed like that for a few seconds, before Piggy spoke up, free hand fiddling with the frayed edge of his blanket.

“Are we gonna… you know, talk about this?”

Ralph didn't respond, so Piggy sighed.

“ ‘spose that's a no, then.”

Ralph weighed his options. He'd left much of himself on that island, many thoughts and emotions unfit for polite society, but in that moment he suddenly realised just how desperately he wanted to take this piece of the island with him.

“We will talk. But it's gonna be ages ‘til we get back home. For now, let's just… sit. OK?”

Piggy nodded, accidentally jolting Ralph, who was still resting his head on Piggy’s shoulder.

“OK.”

They both stared out at the skyline, entranced by the gently rolling waves and glimmering moonlight. There was absolutely no land in sight.

Ralph's eyes slowly began to shut, and he was only vaguely aware of how awful his neck would feel tomorrow if he dozed off like this.

“Ralph?”

Ralph opened his eyes sleepily.

“Yeah, Piggy?”

“It… it's Peter.”

Ralph pressed his head further against the other boy’s neck, until he all he could smell was regulation bath soap, the lingering scent of gunk and grime, and something sweet he couldn't quite place. He shut his eyes once more, mumbling something before he fell into a proper sleep.

“Love you, Peter.”

4/3/25

I'M STILL INSANE ABOUT THEM!!!!!!!!!!! Had this fic idea in my head since Jan/Feb, but didn't start writing until today, when I banged it all out in one sitting as basically an uninterrupted stream of consciousness.

I was really debating about whether to keep Piggy's death, but I genuinely just wanted to write some fluff, so, fix-it fic I guess! I still really love them nooo

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It made sense that Sam'n'Eric shared a bed. They were practically the same person, after all.

Going by that logic, if you really think about it, it made perfect sense for Ralph and Piggy to share a bed, too. There were only two, so where else could either of them sleep?

They were hardly even beds, Ralph thought. More piles of leaves. So either way, it didn't count.

Ralph’s side was going numb, but he stopped himself from turning over, because that would mean he'd be facing Piggy, and that would make this entirely understandable predicament slightly less understandable.

Instead, he settled for laying on his back, even though he knew he'd never get to sleep like that. Although, truth to be told, he didn't have much chance of getting to sleep on his side either. Not with everything that'd happened.

He sighed and rubbed his face.

His brain presently had two topics available for thought, and neither were ones he wished to peruse. Ralph could either ponder what Jack was planning to do to them, now he'd taken control of most of the boys, or he could ponder why sleeping in the same “bed” as Piggy felt so different from how it felt with the boys at home.

Of course, there was another topic. One buried deep down in his subconscious. They'd left early.

Ralph decided thinking about Piggy was the lesser of two evils.

He could hear the fat boy snoring next to him, and he closed his eyes and concentrated on the sound while he thought.

It certainly felt odd. To be so close to someone else. Previously he would've chalked it up to everything feeling odd on the island, but, buried in a similar place as the truth about the Feast, he knew it was something else.

Ralph began digging, careful not to disturb the other thoughts scattered around that odd feeling. His spade brushed against a thought that made him wince, but he adjusted his course and soldiered on.

The hole must've been twice Ralph's height by the time he reached what he was looking for. He imagined it was some sort of dusty chest, like the ones people find treasure in in books.

Ralph opened his eyes. This metaphor was getting away from him.

The simple fact of the matter was that everything about Piggy was different to Ralph. His accent, his appearance, his personality, his role in their microcosmic society. The way he made Ralph feel.

Ralph swallowed. In his mental version of this train of thought, analogy Ralph was holding the key in his hands.

He supposed he ought to think about this logically, Piggy was right about life being scientific, after all.

So. How exactly was looking at Piggy different than looking at, say… Arthur from back home? Or Michael, or Adam, or Richard, or, or… Or, anyone really.

Well, when he looked at Piggy he felt as if there was a gaping black pit in his stomach. A chasm of an indescribable emotion that threatened to eat him whole. It was brilliant.

Piggy, for all his mundaneness and monotony, was frightfully interesting and captivating.

He nattered near constantly about things Ralph couldn't care less about, but for some reason, the simple fact it was Piggy talking forced Ralph to pay attention.

Piggy, for all his faults and flaws, was perfect.

The chest was opening. Ralph almost jumped out of bed. His analogical self hadn't even inserted the key, but the chest was rattling in front of him, sides expanding outwards, threatening to burst. His breathing became ragged. No, this wasn't right, he wasn't ready, he couldn't-

Suddenly the chest was gone. Everything was gone. His entire body was numb. His entire body, that is, except for his left hand.

He looked to his left. Piggy was holding his hand.

He cocked his head as best as he could whilst lying down. Piggy looked at him neutrally and then down at their clasped hands. Ralph looked down at them too.

He rubbed his thumb over the back of Piggy's hand, and the other boy smiled at him.

He knew it wasn't proper, really, but compared to the other things that had taken place on this island, two boys holding hands didn't seem like the most pressing issue.

Ralph closed his eyes and tightened his grip on Piggy's hand, a slight smile on his face. Analogy Ralph pocketed the key. Next time.

30/9/24

Note:

Oh my god I enjoyed writing this so much. Piggy is my favourite character, so I don't know why I keep writing from Ralph's perspective, but it just keeps happening. Also don't question that whole running metaphor. And also how I established Ralph doesn't know what a metaphor is in the last fic. It's fine, Piggy taught him. (Also sorry for the complete lack of dialogue lmaooooo - I never really intended to post these and honestly barely realised)

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Cw blood, chapter 11, and piggy looks really dead but i promise he's just really spaced out

Making an addition to the raliggy nation 🙏🙏

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what is their problem

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guess who they’re gossiping about

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btw do yall fw my new art style?? idk i kinda like it

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RALIGGY.

THIS WORLD NEEDS MORE RALIGGY

On the first art highschool AU by @abstracted-noodles-27