#all of these characters basically forever

[1864reruns]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤgratefulness (i'm sorry, can this be over now?)ㅤ౨ৎㅤ12.9k

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ2024 ©1864RERUNS

oneㅤ/ㅤtwo synopsis. luffy loves you— you know this with how abundantly clear love is in every ministration of his outstretched hand and a grin— yet your traitorous heart demands more, even though you're in no place to give him your loyalty. you know this so you do not demand his love nor to be saved, even when met with a relentlessly stretched hand.

warning(s). gn! reader, hanahaki disease, but some creatively liberated variation of it, angst, hurt/some comfort, slow burn, but does it really count if nothing happens?, unrequited love, pining and the works, background character death, blood, violent imagery, vague allusion to an unspecified mental disorder that involves eating habits (pls be careful!!!), luffy tries his best to be kind but it's cruel, reader spirals 🙏; minimal editing and proofreading (these are basically my thoughts raw and unadulterated)

from vyon. the card game they play is a vietnamese one also known as smth like thirteen in english and has too many rules to explain but it doesn't really matter :3 i was a beast at that game though i fear; this fanfic has been in my drafts for so long, it also grew into too big of a project than it was meant to be. i also had to split this up into two parts, it was getting too long, i'm sorry ＞︿＜

do not repost / copy / translate.

Once you know Monkey D. Luffy, you'll know his heart not a few minutes after. He's welded the unmoving, burning ingot to his bicep, always on display due to his amassing collection of armless vests; rubber skin melted around the golden gem, oozing past the lines of his beating heart to staple it there, an anomaly on the expanse of skin not otherwise susceptible to bullets or cannons. Your captain is a man that lives with his heart on his tongue, always ready to dictate the lay of your next move with an irregular beat that drums against the skinned men of war and an impulsivity that makes his crew scramble after him exasperatedly; oxygen taken from his cerebral arteries to his brain are stained in the grease and oil that stick to the meat he handles so carelessly. In the same endearing way, he's careless with his heart, allows for the small stuff to momentarily prick his heart, for judgement to cloud into anger before it picks up on the bitter taste of agony.

It's always easy to get a frown onto Luffy's face. Feign disinterest in his stories; make yourself too busy to help him look for strange insects; force him to shower, scold him after he does something he wasn't meant to; keep him away from something he seems interested in; starve him for more than five minutes— he makes it all exceptionally too easy. You're not audacious enough to claim to know Luffy any more than the Strawhats, especially not those that he had met in East Blue; you try not to let it bother you that they managed to meet a younger Luffy who had so many holes in his defence, whose smile threatened through skin more, who had yet to find scars in his palm from how hard he had to clench his fists.

To you, it seems unfair that Luffy had managed to uncover so many of your firsts. His unwavering presence by your side as you learnt how hard it was to live on sea, the intonations of your screaming when a marine canon was pointed at you, to live so freely away from the confines of restrictive justice, how it felt to have a hand in yours to promise forever and then some. Luffy has no preferential treatment when it comes to people he loves; he treats them all the same, no hierarchy could dream to disrupt that.

With the same sandals he uses to stomp on the faces of Marine's, he could demand food from Sanji, money from Nami, Zoro to play with him— instead, you watch him whine Sanji, food and dissolve into a puddle when his cook orders him to wait, he allows Nami's fists to fall onto his head when he makes any financially impulsive decision (or even thinks them), and he idles himself with drawing on Zoro's face with Usopp and Chopper, with the previous two of them taking the psychical brunt of their consequences. (Chopper is let off with a mere promise that he won't join in with their shenanigans again when it involves making Zoro into a fool and a growing bump underneath his hat.)

Luffy, from second to fourth gear, is tender aggression when it is love.

His form is bizarrely respectful when the door opens and light dawns upon your face; you see him through the gaps of Nami and Sanji's legs and towering forms over him, his hands on his thighs and feet tucked underneath his bottom. He slurs out an I'm sorry that lets you know that his face is definitely messed up and then follows up with an I was hungry though!

Then Nami messes him up some more for his shitty justification.

She leaves him— some caricature of her anger— on the floor with her hands on her hips and Sanji trailing after her with hearts in his eyes at her dominant display of power. As she passes Brook, he asks for the colour of her underwear and earns himself the same treatment. It's then that you laugh. Luffy snapped his head up, following after the trembling air of your laughter and then calls out your name, the syllables are all messy around his swollen cheeks and a missing tooth that will come back after a few minutes but you cannot rid yourself of the thought that it's sticky with love that you only remember hearing when you were just a babe, screaming and crying in the arms of a tired and ill mother in a hospital. You were introduced to a group of midwives with same love you hear now, their idle finger catching into both your small hands; Luffy's hand dances across the air, breaking apart your laugh with urgency and catching onto your wrist.

You're not sure if it's you who had been pulled to him or if he'd managed to catapult himself into you but you both end up a mess on the floor regardless. Limbs tangled around each other in a wave as you both fall to the deck, Luffy does not correct the length of his arm and takes to wrapping the limb around you like a vine snaked around the trunk of a tree. You don't know a start nor an end as Luffy nuzzles his beat–up face on your shoulder. "Hey captain," you raise your head to look down on him, trying to wrench a hand through the tight spirals he's coiled around you.

"I'm hungry," he whines in lieu of a response, "and I'm bored, Usopp kicked me out after I ate one of his ketchup stars." He doesn't relent with his hold on you, simply loosening the coil that you're trying to work your hand through before tightening again once your arm makes it past to trap it against your side. You don't question the fact that Usopp's ketchup stars may be laced with gunpowder or what the small dose of gunpowder may have done to Luffy's internal organs.

You guess even Usopp has his limits when it comes to his childish captain. "I can't do a lot about either of those things if you're keeping me hostage here." He looks up at you, his exaggeratedly large lips in a pout that matches the swelling of his cheeks and then says your name again, like you’ve done him wrong. It's a disordered collection of the letters again but you find you can't really do anything to fight against it. Instead, green tendrils sprout from your trapped arm, each vine wrapped in a light of leaves and strain against his extended limb before he gives in and, instead, laughs as he wraps his rubber arm around the spindly, twisted branches splitting open layers of skin on your bicep. His skin coloured against the green runner keeps the bine from wilting down to meet gravity.

You let Luffy do whatever he wants, with an expression that you're not sure you're too familiar with etched out on the lines of your face. Thinking back on it, you could've simply done as Nami had or Usopp, ignore or scold him enough into submission but his fingers catch one of the fronds and it curls between the meat of his fingertips, reaching out to tickle his palm and something soft blooms inside you. You know it must be you, not the work of your devil fruit, because as much as you've tried in your lacklustre pursuit of beauty, you've never been able to sprout any kind of flowers.

When Luffy finally lets you go, you find your way into the kitchen and give Sanji a smile. You apologise for interrupting him and tell him that you know that lunch had been served only an hour ago but, if he wasn't too busy, you were still a little peckish. Sanji shoots up immediately and asks you what you've got a taste for— you assure him any leftovers from lunch will do and he tells you, though this doesn't come as any surprise, that Luffy had worked his way through any grain of leftovers with a laugh. You laugh along with him and well, you seemed to be craving meat right now.

The plate he prepares seem to be more about quality rather than quantity, with sauce underneath the red meat drizzled across the white ceramic, a slab of meat already cut into bite sized pieces for you and a decorative herb stuck between the fatty slices but when the light oozes down into the stretch of meat, you don't think Luffy will complain too much.

You, of course, were right about that.

The shattering grin he greets you (the plate of meat, however small it seemed) with gives you the faint smell of sticky rain drenched in the light of the sun, and you almost give him your hand when he reaches out for the plate. Brook's guitar strums in the background and your heart shakes in time with his strings and Luffy's incessant chewing.

You've really no problems with Usopp asking you to help him with target practice, it's fairly common for you to help the crew with their unique fighting style— save Nami and Franky for fear of losing your life with their less than particular aimed area of damage— it's easy enough really. You don't even have to be mentally present for it; shaking through layers of flesh, vines grow across the deck of the Sunny and rise up straight to tower over Usopp as he fixes his goggles over his eyes. You keep a quarter of your mind instilled in every chloroplast that shivers across the skies so you can keep them moving but the other three quarters are focused on the card game you play with Robin, Chopper, and Franky.

You hear the snapping of elastic and your finger twitches against the back of playing cards as the particular vine shot to the left, glancing curiously at Chopper's hand across from you when he turned to Franky and accuses him of looking at his cards.

"It's not my fault!" Franky frowned, fixing his comedically small glasses to perch on his metal nose. "Your cards just happen to be in my view when I'm looking at the pile 'cause you're tiny!"

Chopper takes to this horribly (you reshape a vine that has fallen to one of Usopp's stones and keep it relentless across the wave of air) and he grows into the much less cute and broader, more human version of himself to hold his hand out of Franky's view. (Two vines snap together and they take the path to slice through air to where Usopp stands, you hear the cracking of wood as Usopp shouts at you, saying he only wanted to focus on offence. An apology is drawn out with the green arm in the air.)

"Ivy," your eyes flicker to Robin and she gestures to the pile of discarded where the two of spades had been placed on top. "It's your turn." You glance down at your hand, eyes flickering over the collection of 7's in your hand. 

"Bomb." (You feel a vine break apart into pieces, think about the fact that it's lucky you've no nerves attached to the tendrils, and keep the one down to give Usopp a little win.) Franky curses your name as Robin chuckles.

Chopper glances at the four 7's with a sense of wonderment that you're sure is too dramatic for the moment. "No wonder I had no sevens!" You give him a sly grin and watch Robin pass her turn, ignoring Franky's levelled glare behind his glasses.

In the end, Robin wins anyways, ridding herself of her hand with her final card being the two of hearts. The loss is taken bitterly by both you and Franky though you think Franky definitely takes it worse than you do as when he stands to sulk away, cards fall out of his speedos, and they leave a trail after him. Robin, in all her morbidity, laughs behind a hand as you and Chopper drop your jaws in disgust.

Chopper collects the cards, hesitating with the ones that had been on Franky until Robin points out that you've all played many rounds and there's a chance that all of them had shared the same fate. (Another vine shutters down to the floor, broken apart and particles flown across the deck.) The cards slowly fall to the floor as Chopper cries out in disgust. Shaking your head with some colourful amusement, you use the two vines fallen to pick up the cards and start shuffling them.

Responding to Chopper's call, Luffy shoots his way from Sunny's figurehead. "What're you guys doin'?" He falls graciously to where Franky had previously been sitting; his eyes are ever so impatient to glance over the cards being shuffled. "Oh," he says with great interest, "are you guys playing 'go fish'?" He leaned towards you— the cards in your possession, actually— and blinks at the shuffling. "Lemme in!"

"We weren't playing 'go fish', Luffy." The little doctor has since calmed down, taking a seat between Luffy and Robin and shaking his head. "We were playing—" he turns his head up to Robin, to which she supplies 'bài tiến lên' with the intricate accents and all, "that!"

A flash of thinking places itself on Luffy's face, crossing his arm and tapping the side of his sandals on the deck, then it's gone. "Let's just play 'go fish' then."

Chopper whines, saying that 'go fish' is boring and that Luffy always snatches more than one card from other people's hands, which is cheating, and that he doesn't want to play.

Luffy turns to you with a pout, eyebrows furrowed at the dip where his nose bridge starts and then straightened out towards the end. The two vines that had been expertly dodging all of Usopp's shots and taunting him by doing silly dances and twisting into words in the air both crumple down to the floor at the same time, they follow the curve of your spine as you double over, a breath stuttering in your throat. You hear Usopp call your name and the deck of cards slip out from the vines that had been shuffling this entire time, your hand wraps around your throat and you hack out a cough you've managed to choke on.

"Are you dying?" Chopper shoots up, frantic as you keep coughing and choking— both violent in temperament, and scampers around, shouting for a doctor.

Footsteps tap closer as a shadow forms over you, Usopp's hand patting your back ferociously comes after the sound of shoes stop.

The blur that came with tears invading your eyes gives you the confidence to look at Luffy again before you're calling Chopper to a stop. "I'm fine, just choked on air."

You don't mention how it felt like you were breathing through a cheesecloth, how your lungs feel so restricted with every inhale as you all compromise on 'chase the ace' and how easier it feels when Usopp pushes his way between you and Luffy, too intimidated to pick from Robin's hand; when you all finish up for dinner, Robin is looking at you in a way that makes you think she's caught onto how you've been struggling.

Dinner is a strange ordeal. It's characterised with its usual events: Luffy sneaking his hands into people's plates though his stands full, Usopp trying to hold his plate out of his way, Zoro tending to his glass bottle of beer, Sanji making some quip about Zoro's show of alcoholism, Nami getting increasingly annoyed by the noise around her, Brook's laughter, Zoro escalating the situation with Sanji, Chopper screaming when Luffy clears Usopp's plate and then goes for the doctor's, Robin watching the scene with the patience of a saint, Franky pretending he was better than the rest, Usopp exacting revenge on Luffy by swapping their plates. It all ends with Nami telling them all to shut up and Luffy taking one final chicken leg from Zoro's plate. You stare down at your plate and count the missing bits, Luffy hasn't really touched any of the potatoes or asparagus, so you finish them up.

Two chicken thighs sit in stark contrast to the plate, thinking about having them anywhere near your mouth makes you a little sick for some reason, the weight of them in your stomach, the taste of caramelised skins, crisped with wells of juice sat next to a tinge of burnt flesh; you push the plate over to Luffy and detest the way he can take the colour of well–done oranges between his teeth and not care about the juice dribbling down his chin.

Luffy says thanks with his mouth full of chicken; Nami glares at him and turns a more concerned face to you (that also makes you sick) and inquires about you not eating. You mumble out some excuse about not being hungry, not feeling well, having a little bit of a headache, feeling tired— something along those faux lines, you don't remember but you remember that you don't tell them the truth exactly. "Sorry Sanji," you fix into your shitty excuse after, running a hand through your hair, to make yourself feel better about the entire ordeal.

He offers to make you a more palatable porridge or soup instead.

You take a cigarette and a red apple, going to bed hungry and angry at some unknown thing that brews on the tip of your tongue.

The next island is of great interest to Luffy.

The entire crew knows that its history nor culture was not either reason behind his excitement, only the mere prospect of digging his sandals into new, uncharted land is why he's running around the deck, filling up the empty spaces with bubbling laughter. Sanji finishes up bentos for those that are leaving, taking unnecessary extra care with Nami’s, and wishing he had it in him to starve Zoro whilst Nami is giving everyone an allowance. You take two bentos, yours and Chopper's, and head out onto the deck. Luffy only seemed momentarily sad that you were going with the doctor but bounced back immediately after when the trees come closer enough to intimidate so you push down the offer to join him instead. Franky joins up with Usopp, Luffy'll run off alone regardless of who he ends up going with, Nami ends up going with Zoro (to Sanji's displeasure), and you and Chopper make plans to find a pharmacy and a library for Robin.

Being around Chopper is easy enough with this unsettling prick of poison that's forced minimal responses, curt words, a flurry of tiredness, a sickening chill through your days recently. The little doctor is a lot more mindful of changes in mood, it's not any imminent injury either so he doesn't press to know why. Out of guilt (for being a brooding asshole lately), you ask him about his rumble balls and all his different forms. He answers cheerily and you can only pick out every other word with a persistent headache as the smell in the air changes from salty skies and bloody fish to sweetened foods and something unfamiliarly clean.

It's a bright island. You hear a faint bell in the distance that is traced over with the sound of children and stall owners; Chopper's hooves rhythmically sound beside you on the pavement and you find yourself counting them in groups of four. "Ah, there." You pick up your head and turn to follow the direction of Chopper's eyes. A sign is hung on the side of the building, the library. "Robin wanted a book of North Blue diseases for some reason," Chopper mumbles to himself as you two push open the door.

It's a small bookstore, walls lined with books and the paths carved with more standalone bookcases. "North Blue diseases?" You repeat, confused, "do they have North Blue exclusive illnesses?"

Your question goes unanswered, though it looks like it opens a vault of new questions for Chopper. Books aren't of great interests to you, so you follow behind Chopper as he walks through each section and grab whichever book he tells you to bring down for him. On the way back, you tell Chopper to keep going and change your course in search of something you're not too sure of.

You stray away from the town centre and head deeper through the small alleys of the town, there's no destination in mind; without the urgency of a fights and with the domesticity of a small knit community, you wander adrift. There's a dampness in the air to the walk around a shadowed hide of the place that loosens up the tension below your ribs, many different eyes follow after your form as the heel of your shoes click against a null path; shadows ooze around the soles of your shoe and lacquer up between the carved maze of black rubber of your soles until you find your way into a dead end.

It's a little bit of a cliché to be met with a ragtag group of delinquents when you turn to go back. Your eyes trace over them. In the hand of the one closest to you sits your wanted poster.

Something blooms inside you again— it's a much more pleasant feeling than the unmoving sap of ire that's been invading lately. Each man before you is physically bigger, towering over you ominously and shadows eating you but they all have swords and guns in their hands and that's why they lose. You, to the detriment of all life around you, are a weapon in and of itself; you choke out the vitality from others and steal their nutrients. They strained against their confines as their skin blossoms through shades of blooms, you are not the merciful rubber of a human, so your constraints don't relent, they squeeze and squeeze until the bark splits apart, until blood is cut off at the source, until they wither, until you are full.

On the way back, you buy a gift for everyone with the money you hadn't used and when they take to it, all in their varying degrees of joy, you feel less bad about the dead end alley full of brothers and sons. You tell yourself, handing Zoro a gift of alcohol, if not them, then it'd have been you.

You end up staying anchored to the island for a week to your displeasure. The longer you're stuck there, the closer you are to exploding; you always keep an eye out on the log pose strapped to Nami's wrist like you could quicken the process if you stare enough. Usopp starts avoiding you out of fear you'll blow like a poorly constructed cannon, Zoro makes you train with him to see if it'll help blow off some steam, Sanji brings you iced drinks at a rate that keeps you dizzy but you always feed it to Luffy or redirect it to Chopper's or Usopp's office with a little note.

On the third day, you follow in Zoro's example and sprawl out on the deck to rest your tireless mind. You've always wondered how sleep was ever a possible option for him when the feet thundering across the deck came with obstructive vibrations, no doubt slapping any chance of sleep away from his mind, but you find that it's almost pleasant. Beats all from familiar loves translates through the groves of wooden planks and etch through the back of your spine, you feel a bone fall back into place after Nami's heels against the floor and the thunderous kick that lands where Zoro was standing manages to work its way up your head to ease a headache.

The sun burns cries into your eyes and the skies move fluidly, they don't ripple as clouds shrivel against a light blue you're unfamiliar with; even as you close your eyes, you continue to feel the burn of the sun. The slapping of weaved straw against a sticky, sweaty sole then the deck comes as you slip into sleep.

Dreams have never been so amicable enough to become a recurrent in your life; more often than not, you're shown memories all blended together into a mess that leaves you sick, the abhorrent now and the nostalgic then bleeding past their confines until you see your mother stood next to that deceitful Marine admiral, both with that same look in their face. You wake up with a start when a loud bang scours its way through a flurry images you're unfamiliar with and then your body escapes you. Your head weighs with the heaviness of the bodies dropped to the floor, arms cold as if dipped into the river Styx, bones locked in place with a restrictive pain, muscles burning, aware of every breath that shivers through your suddenly odd body.

"Owww," three Luffys blur around each other as you pushed a hand to the floor to straighten up, you try blinking away the other two, but they're glued to the captain reflecting in your eyes; he looks down at what he's tripped on and follows it back to you. Your hand is met with something curved in shape when you go to push yourself up and when you look down, you see vines underneath you. You realise then that a burst of them had grown beneath you, splitting through the lawn deck and uplifting some of the planks underneath the greenery and inching upwards towards the guard rails of the ship. They take the form of something you think you met in your most recent sleep.

Luffy has managed to crawl his way towards you in the time you spend wondering why your devil fruit had been acting up— in your sleep no less and he wraps a hand around your ankle to get your attention. "Hey, you're really cold." He pointed out, eyes flickering down to the flesh between his fingers and then trailing his fingers up your thigh as he shifts closer to you on his knees.

The touch makes you violent and tender. "Really?" You managed to puff out, giving too much air back to the world with how much you're panting, "I feel a little warm though."

Luffy hums, clapping his hand over your cheeks with gentleness he only shows to those he loves, and it feels wrong. You get an itch underneath your skin that urges you to move, move, move but you can only push Luffy away with a ferocity he'd never shown you as you tremble under the bursting of violent air hacking up your throat, your shoulders strain as you wrapped your arms around your stomach, trying to heave out something that wasn't there.

Luffy scrambles back immediately, not caring for you shoving him away, and soothes away the rattling of your core with his clammy hands on your arm. "Are you sick?"

No, you think as a retch comes up your mouth; maybe, you correct as the path is marked by drool slipping down your chin and tears streaking across your cheeks. You shake away Luffy again. He's less submissive this time, his legs open over yours to plant his knees by your thighs. You hear him call for Chopper and it's obvious he has something of a frown marked on his face; you keep burning beneath your skin, but Luffy keeps rubbing his palms over your arms like you're cold.

You realise what your vines had drawn underneath you when Chopper comes out, fretting over you as he takes Luffy's place close to you. A grave. The image makes you laugh as the reindeer instructs his captain to haul you up after you'd ignored his inquires on if you could walk; your arm bends around the shape of Luffy's shoulder and your laughter erratically convulses into a collection of coughs from the skin on skin high.

You forced into bed rest after Chopper does a preliminary round of tests on you and declares you've simply gone down with a cold. You take to the diagnosis apprehensively, though in Chopper's defence, how was he meant to accurately diagnose you if you don't tell him all your symptoms? Instead, you sit in his office and spend the minutes, all alone, trying to retch out the feeling of having a piece of hair down your throat; you claw at the blanket and keep hacking until you've got a blanket full of tears and spit. The feeling does not pass.

At lunch, you get a visit from Franky who comes by to complain that you've made unnecessary work for him. "—seriously, how did you manage that in your sleep? Were you having a nightmare?" He ranted, legs crossed and leaned back in the visitor chair in a way that pushes his skinny, hairy legs close to your face.

Scrunching up your face, you sit up. "It was the future." You rebut, in between all his fantastical stories of his nightmares and talking about how he'd never attack Sunny even if Chopper grew a mechanical, giant arm and overthrew Luffy to become their captain. "A future," you correct yourself before turning to Franky with eyes judgemental, "are you scared of Chopper?"

"You weren't there at Enies Lobby," he tells you, which serves as a cruel reminder of sorts. You think about all the scars you've seen littered on the crew's skin and wonder which ones they've collected while they were with Luffy and who knows of which. The faint, protruding marks underneath Nami's tattoo, the stitches around Zoro's ankles, the ones pulled across his chest; you wonder if Sanji's got one hidden underneath his bangs. "The future?" Franky repeats after a moment, "are you a prophet?"

"It's a working theory," you brush off instead. "Though I can see in my mind's eye that Luffy is currently eating all the food and you’ll be left to starve if you don't go back."

Franky scrambled up from the seat not a second after your words.

With him gone, you settle back onto the bed and wonder about too many things to recall.

Between the hours after lunch and before dinner, Luffy comes by. He settles himself on the bed and forces you up as well, the shifting causes another cough to burgeon in your throat and you turn your head the other way to spit it out in an uncontrolled group of four. "You're not feeling better?" He frowns.

You see now that he's holding two pieces of barbequed meat in his hand, he's got the bone in his palm as he holds it upright like a sword, juices from the flesh dripping down to his hand and the smell gives you a headache. "Do you want this?" You move your eyes to Luffy, he's got his eyebrows furrowed together and his lips straightened out in a line when you don't answer. "Both?" He looks over at you, then the meat, and then you. "You," he swallows, "you can have them," his knuckles turn red around the bone, "since you need energy and you're sick." You think he's trying to convince himself to give them up.

You reached out and watch Luffy's face turn sour as his expression squeezes altogether around a midpoint trapped in his nose; you retract your hand and watch his face relax and his body unwind, you think he's moved his hand back a little. You repeat it again a few more times until laughter comes up and dislodges the uncomfortable feel of hair set deep in your throat. "It's fine, Luffy, you can have 'em."

"Really?"

"Mhm, go for it."

He moans around a bite of meat, crying your name as he chews and says thank you. The feeling is back as soon as it left.

No one comes to visit after that. Chopper comes by before he heads off to bed to make sure you're all set for the night and tells you that he expects to be woken up if you feel any symptoms get worse. You agree to his conditions, though can barely make yourself seem like you were taking him seriously with his cute face scolding you, but it seemed to work well enough as he's gone after he leaves a cup of water by your side. Sleep lingers around the corner, shirking away from your twitching fingertips and restless eyes; you give up after a few minutes, thinking about Robin who'd been thrown on watch tonight.

After going back and forth on the details, you bundle up yourself in the blanket (not wanting to have to mimic any semblance of serious guilt to get through Chopper's less than intimidating scolding if you get any sicker in the morning) and wander to the deck. The darkness of the sea would be safe for you, twisting around every limb extended to grope your way through your chosen path and oozing out from strands of hair to empty at your feet if not for the lamp of the moon ahead of you. Its light a forecast of tragedy, reflecting off a blade that would drive through the blood of a man who faced an unlikely love with only disgust and betrayal. "Robin?" The light hangs onto your word with a vehemence to uncover your unjustifiable deeds.

"Ivy," a shudder of surprise rattles your head to duck to your shoulders as you turn around. "Sorry, did I scare you?"

You give Robin a frown, tugging your lips down. "Yeah, my weakened bones nearly fell to the floor." She huffs a laugh. "Please announce yourself before you appear." Robin traces over your palish face and your features soften into a smile when your eyes meet.

"Can't sleep?" She asks once you two settle at the side of the Sunny where you'd napped earlier today, some of your vines still wedged between planks and parts of the floor haphazardly missing. You lean your back against the side of the ship and lower your eyes to the floor.

It's a total void, welcoming you back home. "No," you answer, a little breathless. The moon doesn't shuttle into the hole of the deck and something reaches a hand out for you between the atoms of a black hole. Roots twist out, easing close to your feet and sinking beneath the soles of your shoes. "I napped a little earlier." It's safe.

Robin hummed— I know rattles through her hum— and her elbow falls onto the guard rail of the ship. For the next few moments, you regret coming out. Robin's always been more receptive to the details and fine lines; it's not surprising that she can nitpick through a flurry of fronts and covers to the feelings you want to hide. They beckon out to her, wanting to fill that hole that's grown smaller with every day she wakes up to the open seas and the lively sound of her crew. "Chopper said you were sick?"

"A cold," you sniffle, bringing the blanket closer to you. Finding some semblance of confidence inside you, your eyes flicker over to Robin but she isn't looking at you— only turns when she feels your gaze levelled on her. You hesitate, searching for something to say and land on extending an arm and opening the blanket to invite her into your bundle. "You cold?"

She laughs, "it's fine, you should go back in if you've got a cold though." Her head tilted with a smile, "it'll be bad if the night air makes you worse."

Not wanting to find yourself softened in moonlight nor her eyes, you nod and bid her a goodnight before shivering your way back into your room. The door opens and light from Sunny's hallway is swallowed into the darkness of your room before it's banished out with the slam of your door, you shuffle around odd things thrown on the floor and slip into bed.

Your sleep is broken through with intervals with coughing, curling into yourself, shivering still though you burn in the night like a sibling of a star. When you wake up, sometime in the afternoon, you're heaving and reaching out your arms all around your duvet to haul together the skin that feels like it's melted down. Your palms prick against the leaves of vines that have overtaken your room, they fluoresce around your body and branch outwards to all corners of your room. The mess all blur together as your brain thrashes in your head with every splutter, you shake and twitch, trying to make sense of anything. Skin burned raw as you attempt to kick away the shrubbery that's keeping the blanket contorted around your body.

Your throat skinned and crude with its imminent thoughts of water.

A hand reached back blindly to grope at your bedside table for the cup that Chopper left for you last night. What you find instead is the burning touch of the sun, it seeps through the micro wounds stabbed through lines of your fortune and inflames every nerve straight to your heart. Your hand snaps back towards your body, the bones shivering from the imminent heat. Your entire body twitches at different paces, an invasive and hungry need drowns your senses. You need water, you need not for this to happen, water, you need for your sleep to be calm, you need to stop burning, you want to stop losing control, water first. You want water. Water— you turn your head to find the water, you need— Luffy?

Luffy is sat on a chair that you don't remember being there and when you look a little closer, you see that your vines had granted him a throne to comfortably lay on, other than that, they avoid him like the near plague. His body is leaned forward, his chest laid against the side of your mattress and arms crossed on your bed to sleep on like a pillow. You retch up some acid and, like the bowed head of a priest, a gentle petal disrupts the stream, flowing against the tide. It's a beautiful purple colour that's light against the transition to white towards the middle and an eye-catching yellow streaking against the white; lines of a deeper hue stretch through the petal and it's oddly reminiscent of veins.

The petal sits on the puddle of stomach acid that warms your thighs, your head bowed down to stare at it; you feel your soul unfurl at the sight of it, branches stretched outwards over a riverside, the heavy head of buds pulling weighted branches down to drink from the stream. Everything else blurs with a ripple, the petal is withstanding no matter no much you try blinking away an oncoming headache. The river near dries up in your attempt to wash down this unnerving disgust; you hunger for more.

Little changes when you find out what this 'cold' truly was. The lighting in Sunny's library is several shades warmer than the light of the sun, it draws upon the hunched shoulders down to your back as you tilt your head to hear the bones crack under your ear. Four syllables, that's all your death is. A lot of words are four syllables. Anonymous; unfortunate; hilarious; adventurous; hanahaki. It doesn't mean a lot by itself, so you try giving it some context. You pretend to tell Chopper that you're dying, you have hanahaki and that it's something he can't cure in a way you'll accept and you still feel nothing. You think about Chopper's face. He adamantly tells you that he'll cure you, he'll do it. The you in your imagination tells him no. Faced with your refusal, Chopper cannot do anything. In the end, it is a grave that cures you.

Death, as it stands, was something you had accepted when you stepped onto a pirate ship. Even someone with as stubborn a character as Zoro could be welcomed in by death, even Luffy. For a while, you wonder about death. The air in the room pauses as if to grace you with the silence to ponder on it, all you hear is the sound of your own breathing.

The closest thing to death comes searching for you a few minutes later.

You've always been interested in Brook. A skeleton with nothing but a sword; he has no lungs yet still sings, no heart and still smiles, dead but human in all his actions and behaviours. "There you are." He sneaks up behind you, bones falling onto your shoulder as you think, he smiles down at you. "Luffy asked if I’d seen you earlier.” He looms over you for a moment before he's straightening back up and calling out loudly, "but I'm a skeleton so it's not like I have eyes to see anyone anyways!"

It's the two syllables 'Lu–ffy' that shakes you the most. You stifle a cough in your chest and feel it tear through your ribs instead, searching for a path out. "For what?" The breaths rattle in your chest and shudder through your words.

"He wanted to show you a beetle." He takes the seat next to you, peering down at the picture book that you have open. You wait for him to make a comment about seeing what you were reading before disregarding it all with a lack of eyeballs so he wasn't seeing it really but he doesn't say anything, so you're forced to talk instead.

"Brook."

"Yes?"

It takes a single breath to prepare you to say this, it's warm and evident that you've not yet truly succumbed to your illness. "Do you see yourself as dead?"

Death is the art of those who do not live. It's something that keeps people tethered to the moment; it's the one thing that keeps humans humane. It's evidence you've lived, no matter how full nor how long. She's beautiful in her own right.

"I cannot see myself as anything because I am a skeleton with no eyes!"

Brook does not get to elaborate because Luffy shuttles in moments later, whispering loudly. (He'd learned somewhere that you're meant to be quiet in a library when he was younger but his whispers still manage to shake the room somehow.) "You're here! I found a beetle to show you!" He tip–toes to your side, "what're you reading— oh, hi Brook! The flowers here are pretty!" He points a finger down to a sunflower; his index covers an entire petal and he strokes it upwards to the middle. "Do you think they're edible?"

He turns to you with a smile.

You meet him with the same, "their seeds are." He gasps and picks up the book to scour through the letters in search of a name of these seeds. You take in a shuddering breath and when you feel another urge to cough, you cannot stop it.

When vines splatter around the room, they uproot the place; they've always been disruptive in this way. A wave of them washes various bouts of furniture to the floor, through the pounding of your ears, you hear the sound of books thudding as green appendages snake through bookcases and rattle them at the base; Brook's chair collapses as a vine chokes out one of its legs into splinters, the world blurs into a hue of greens and purples. A hand reaches from down in your throat, you heave around gaps of allowance for air and gag, cough, retch up more acid and some tea that Sanji brewed earlier this morning in lieu of breakfast. It's unpleasant. It's ugly in a way death should not be, though you guess the dead don't get to choose how to live in the same way the living cannot choose their death.

You're hauled off to Chopper again.

Chopper's voice comes as the hollow sounds of keys on an old piano. He does another round of tests on you— this set lasts a little longer than the previous and he takes extra caution with some. He finds that your heart is a little faster than it should be, he nitpicks at the bluish tint around your fingers and notes the concerning amount of weight you've lost in the past few weeks. When he asks you, what's wrong, you tell him that that's what he should be telling you.

Hypoxia; another four syllables for your cause of death. "Some of the symptoms are there," Chopper frowns, mumbling to himself. "It's when your tissues aren't getting enough oxygen, do you have difficulty breathing?"

You placed your cheek into your palm, elbow on Chopper's desk. "You're a pretty good doctor, Chopper."

The effect is immediate, he starts blushing and kicking his legs in his seat, a hoof goes to rub at the back of his head and nervous laughter comes from him. "That isn't distracting me at all, you bastard." You smiled and watched the compliment break any semblance of professionalism in him.

He gets back on track a little while later, placing a stethoscope on your chest and asking you to cough. You're not sure exactly what he's looking for but you give a soft cough into your elbow and you can say for certain— just based off the way he jumps back and looks at you a little quietly for a second, it's nothing good. Chopper spends a few minutes looking at your fingertips, then your lips, then some other parts of skin already exposed and humming to himself, troubled.

For now, he says, he wants you to try not to exert yourself— maybe leave fighting to everyone else and focus on resting until he can figure out a better way to confidently diagnose you. His lips are pulled into a frown, hands in his lap and trying his best to be professional and keep his emotions at bay. Before you know it, your hand is on top of his pink hat and fondly rubbing over the material softly. "Thanks Chopper, I'll keep that in mind."

He nods. You hesitate for a second before you're getting up to leave so that everyone else can see that you're not dying— or maybe you should tell them you are, you're not sure you could take another session of Franky accusing you of destroying the Sunny to create more work for him.

Your hand wraps around the doorknob and twists, stopping when Chopper speaks again. "You're not hiding something from me," he accuses gently, "are you?"

Your hand tightens around the doorknob. A flash of that imaginary Chopper comes back to you— heartbroken and confused at your refusal to be cured— you steal an unnecessarily large breath from the world. "I get sudden cravings for sweet things if that means anything."

Chopper, unbeknownst to you, takes those words and carves them true and raw into himself. His eyes are unwilling to leave you for more than necessary during the times you eat together, he watches you push aside the food on your plate, tearing small bits of meat off the bone to chew on it for a couple minutes too long before swallowing. He makes note of the way you have no problems finishing up everything but any sort of meat, sliding them over to Luffy, or one of his victims.

You're met with another blossom soon after lunch. You've made a bad habit of leaving the table early to escape the smell and resign yourself to the open deck, sprawling out on the grass like Zoro usually does. You're certain you're about to fall asleep shivering but the slap, slap, slapping of your captain's sandals are nearing closer so your brain kicks awake with a start; your eyes twitch, eyelashes shuddering in the wind. The darkness over your eyes morphs into a shadow of Luffy hovering over you, head tilting with a hand on his hat— your mind supplies you with the frown— and then you hear him taking a step back and sitting down next to you.

A troubled melody hums through his lips and when you open an eye to peek at him, you see his hands wrapped around his ankles, legs loosely crossed; he turned back to you and you quickly close your eyes. Here is where you finally learn that when Luffy touches, he's never placated with a simple tap, a light knocking between skin— no, he must stroke, he drags his fingers up the side of your thigh, he shivers from the coldness of your flesh and, even then, crawls closer. Then he's silent for a worrying amount of time and for a moment, curiosity takes you over. You find yourself wanting to draw light upon the disgusted features when he's met with someone he thinks close to him is growing closer and closer to a grave amongst the roots.

He leans his forehead against yours whilst you shuffle through the despicable crawl of your heart through your bones, something shifts in you and when you reach to itch at your side, it dislodges. It takes no more than a simple flip for your entire world to shift; you think you saw Luffy hovering over you momentarily before you had snapped to the side.

A fragment of the world greets its end.

Something strangles you, a hand of a giant pressing two fingers against the sides of your neck until everything in you bursts and splatters against parts that have gone unknown until now. There's nothing new to the tremor of vine that erupts through your skin, bubbling through the surface of flesh like a geyser; the tentacles claw their way your throat until you're choking around them, searching for an allowance for air. Your knees shuffle up to find some balance, head ducked to meet the lawn across the deck and elbows digging deep into the dirt. Your spluttering comes in time with the sound of Luffy calling your name, shouting for Chopper; there's a knot tied inside your mouth, you shake away tremors and tears all the same. You erupt yet there's nothing to be burnt, it's only ash that leaves your mouth— only the colourful petals of the wisteria plant that wash over the green of the open deck, burnt in hues with blood.

The next island is a spring island, known for their sweet peaches and sweeter music.

You watched Luffy devour two peaches in his hands, the ripe skin melting underneath his teeth— pale with a dusted blush until it snapped into a bloody red, melted at the pit. Then he's gone with a rustle of mikan trees as you held out a basket for Nami to delicately place her mikans in; apparently, she'd managed to catch the attention of some peach vendor with her sweet tangerines and swindled the poor man out of his money for a basket.

The streets are lined with lively hums and a strumming of odd instruments, music escapes through every crevice of a worn-down building as Luffy jumps from stall to stall, drooling over the goods before you're beckoning him back with his lunchbox and a promise of meat after you finish this errand for Nami. On your way to the stall, you hear faint chattering that doesn't interest you but Luffy straightened up beside you and turns to stare at the people as they argue on who had managed to grow the biggest peach this year.

You sigh, grabbing hold of Luffy's collar when he stops to stare at them and drag him off to the stall vendor who had fallen victim to Nami's schemes. The exchange is easy enough— give him the basket (ignore the fact that Nami had managed to make it look like it was overflowing by artfully bunching up a cloth on the bottom and filled gaps between the fruits with flowers) and make sure you've got the correct amount of money. It's when Luffy asks the stall vendor who has the biggest peach this year that things begin to go downhill.

Rather than answering Luffy's question, the man goes on a tangent about some kind of festival for a God and how the biggest peach will be the offering to said God this year— apparently, Shumi (the woman who owns the fabrics shops) had managed to get her hands on this, that, or the other to help her husband grow a peach large enough to bring doubt to the fact that Gyupuri had managed to grow the largest peach (again) this year.

Luffy insists on tracking them both down to help the people come to a decision as he wiped away the drool on his chin. Resigned, you managed to find Shumi first with her shop being the only one in town that sold fabrics and she denies you both permission to see the peach; Gyupuri, on the other hand, is more than happy to show you to the peach he grows. He takes you straight out of town, into the forest, and then up the mountain to where there's a clearing full of nothing but flesh coloured peaches.

As you listen to Gyupuri's story on how he was merely taking after his father to grow these strangely sized peaches, you have to keep Luffy in your hold so he doesn't go running to the giant peach and take a bite out of what could be for a God. Somehow though, he manages to get a handful of flat peaches when you weren't looking and when you attempt to apologise to Gyupuri, he doesn't seem to be fazed, shoving a few more peaches into your hand and telling you it's fine.

"So, who is this God anyway?" Luffy asks, his legs wrapped around your waist and chin hooked on your shoulder as he leaned back, satisfied with cheeks full of the peach you were holding in your hand. You turn to give him a look, but he merely stares at you back.

The people here must have made a unanimous decision to answer questions from the left side of the field because Gyupuri only tells you the name of this God when he drags you and Luffy up a hill to stare at a statue of this God carved out of generic stone.

To be polite, you call the statue pretty; Luffy feels no need to be polite, so he says it's not really. When you look at him to furrow your eyebrows at him, he's already looking at you.

When you're back on the ship, money handed to Nami, you think about that moment so much that it grows moss in your mind and vines burst through the crevices of the worn–down artifact you've made out his gaze to be. You throw up everything you manage to eat and feel hollow and worthy when you meet Luffy's eyes in Chopper's office again.

There's a chill that follows your days after that.

It's persistent and stubborn in a way that cruelly reminds you of Luffy. On a brighter side, you've got an excuse to be lazy in bed though it irks your bones not to have the weight of you walking thrumming up your body. You get visits from the Strawhats, get your food delivered to you, some of the crew shuffling into your room to keep you entertained with some card games and the likes— you get Luffy consistently making his way into your room and treating it as any other room on his Sunny. He comes in, always makes himself home on the bed, and talks about what he did today. At some point, it becomes less endearing and more annoying to be treated as though you were actually dying. (You hadn't told them for a reason.)

Four days after Chopper had resolutely punished you with bed rest, Luffy decides that he was going to start sleeping in your room. Apparently, your face had translated over what your head was thinking too quickly because he starts whining, saying that he wouldn't get to see you enough if he doesn't do this and, well, since you've always had a tender, raw, skinned soft spot for the boy, you end up saying yes.

He spends his first night telling you what he was going to spend tomorrow doing and you come to the realisation that every other sentence contains you. (Going to find more beetles to show you... Chopper told Sanji it'd be good to get more meat into your diet... Zoro accidentally cut snakes and ladders in half so Nami is giving me money to see if we can find one for you so we can play... Robin said there's a really pretty flower on this next island… For you… For you...) It’s all there laid bare and you cannot face it. You hide your face into the crook of your elbow and wretch out a cough. Luffy frowns but doesn't mention it. He talks himself into sleep and you lay awake to him, trying to keep yourself from blooming throughout the night so he doesn't wake up, cold and still.

When you're startled awake with misty embrace in a dream, you see that Luffy has gone.

What he has left is his straw hat and a mouthpiece of his greatness. The straw is rough against your fingers, resembling the thorns that grows along roses and you stare at it in your lap until you can feel the roughness in your throat— just when you think you need to get water, Sanji shows up with breakfast. You eye the cigarette in his lips and ignore the settling of the tray on your bedside table, watch the smoke fight the smell of scrambled eggs and bits of bacon to take over your room.

"We're at an island?"

Sanji walks around your bed, finding himself comfortable on the couch across the foot of your bed. "We docked early this morning," you watched his smoke rise, ash falling to the wooden floor of your room, waving and grasping hands up to God. Sanji keeps himself entertained by looking around your room, his foot pushing around odd leaves and petals on the floor before he nods over to the plate. "Eat." Then he's gone.

You stare at the tray, settling Luffy's straw hat aside, you shuffle to the end of your bed and take the fork in your hands— you look at the plate until you swear you can taste the eggs in your mouth and the slight bursts of saltiness that'll come from the bacon and you have to wash it down with the glass of water he's given you. You push it aside and opt to go back to sleep.

You dream of a still life on top of a hill, overlooking a dock as the Sunny pulls back out into the sea; you thrash but find every part of you rooted down to one spot, the wind picks up and you feel tangles of what could be hair or leaves hitting against a part of your body. You're still rooted despairingly in a garden of silks and duvets when you wake, Luffy had found himself unable to keep away from your breakfast but when you sit up and look a little closer, you see a pile of the diced bacon bits shoved off to the side as he shovelled eggs into his mouth.

Shattering free from the earth with a faltering cough broken into four, you shuffled yourself up and spit out a cluster of wisteria. At this point, you do not need to look at Luffy to know what his face looks like; he turned to face you, cheeks full and quickly finishing the eggs to shuffle closer to you on the bed with a book in his hands. "You left your book under the plate."

It's a hardback children's book, pulled out of Sunny's library and coloured a light blue that resembled the sky and broken apart by a sunflower in the middle and petals around it, the title curled around the sunflower. You know that the book was left in the library when you were having your episode. The cover is smooth to the touch as Luffy gives it to you and ends up knocking his shoulders against yours in his attempt to get closer; your eyes moved over to the tray of food and you think of Sanji, who'd grown up in the North Blue where this children's story was more popular amongst the romantic commonwealth. 

He knows, you think, and it fills you with a dread that the wisteria blossoms feast upon delightfully; he knows, and he could tell everyone, the vines throb over your heart as Luffy opens the book over your lap and looks up, expectantly at you.

Myrsa was a pretty girl, enough so that praises sang for her ended up calling upon the scorn of love's Goddess. The depiction of her getting cursed is almost comical, stricken by lightning as she returns from a forest with a basket full of flowers and mushrooms. "What happens next? What happens next?" Luffy pushes his face closer to the book, tangling a rubbery leg with yours as he moves impossibly closer. "How does Myrsa beat up the God?"

It's the certainty he holds that Myrsa will beat up God that makes you laugh, it's the fact that she does not beat anything that makes you tremble, shaking coughs and petals out your throat. Luffy seems to think that the book is too excitable, trying to pry it away from you and saying that he can ask Robin to read it to him later so you should just rest. "Don't you want to know if Myrsa will beat up the God now?" You ask instead, knowing the answer will be yes.

Perhaps they were the wrong words to convince Luffy because when you're on the last page, Myrsa buried in a forgotten land and her love used as fertiliser for a field of sunflowers, he's threatening to beat up a God made up to exact revenge for Myrsa. It's a lot more cheerful than you had expected— all the characters drawn with round faces, small bodies, and black dots as eyes. It makes death seem redeemable. 

After Luffy hauls himself out of your room, in search of the God had turned Myrsa into sunflowers, you force the bacon down your mouth and bring the tray out to Sanji. You linger in the kitchen, eyes watching him as he scrubbed the dishes and danced around the kitchen, no doubt knowing why you were there. He doesn't seem to want to be the one to approach the topic just based on the way he refused to stop even for a moment for the past fifteen minutes you've been there.

You know nothing about Sanji past the fact that he's blond, he's a cook, and he used to be a prince from North Blue's Germa Kingdom.

"You know Myrsa didn't die because she had hanahaki." Your hip meets the edge of an island, arms crossed over your chest as you watched Sanji finally slow to a halt, throwing a glance over at you. He takes his cigarette between two fingers, breathing in for a moment and then takes it out, holding it out to you. "What she was cursed with, wasn't ever meant to be able to kill her."

"I know."

Sanji takes the cigarette back after you shake your head, shrugging a little as he continued. "Myrsa died."

You laugh a little, "I read the book."

There's a point he's trying to make that's as foreign to you as the notion of a love that doesn't hurt but he turns a glance to you that almost reads like he's disappointed in you and it settles nicely against the vines choking you through. You straighten up, uncrossing your arms and his visible eye wanders back over the pots he has boiling on the stove. "You liked the ending?" The ending of the North Blue story was a two–page spread of a sunflower field, a planet of bright yellows and a dull light blue, clouds breaking apart overwhelming tones of sunny golds and drowning diamonds.

A tree split awkwardly in half due to the spine of the book, curved in shape and pinched in the middle until you held the pages at the edges and pulled to straighten in down. "It was pretty," a gentle breeze running through the leaves shedding from the tree, a shiver to the wooden flesh that split apart if looked at the right way by the right man. Myrsa was beautiful, even in a death she didn't pick treated her well.

How could you hope to live when she did not?

You find a lot of things pretty now; you wonder if that's the dead crawling in you that is beginning to appreciate the life around. Robin sat on the deck with a cup of cooling coffee on a table in front of her and a book in her hand, Nami stood between her rows of mikan trees, Zoro straining under the weights of his responsibilities, Brook with a violin to his shoulder. The sky drowned over the ocean as Luffy leaned his head against you on Sunny's figurehead, his voice a soft beat over the water rushing against the hull of the ship. He's talking about Shanks and his dream and your heart aches selfishly; his skin gulps down the orange light of the dawning sun and you resigned yourself to a death loving him.

You wonder if Luffy still thinks of his dead brother, your tongue slips against the bark of your gums, and you open your mouth without thinking. "Luffy," you hear spoken into the wind, "will you tell me about your brother?"

"Sabo?" He's clapping his feet together excitedly, turning from the sky to you with a large grin on his face, "he's a part of the Revelation Army— no, wait revocation? Revenge Army? Renovation Army! Wait— that's not right."

"No, the other one." A whisper haunts the wind, 'the dead one' written in its movement.

There's a certain hesitation to his words that brings you to the realisation that being loved by Luffy is a wonderful thing. He's never been one to be articulate with words, picking the simple ones that come to mind first without a moment's hesitation but strangely the simple–minded way served him well when it came to love. Love is not articulate either— it's one of the simplest things in the world— so when it's met with someone like Luffy, it blossoms into an art form of all things beautiful.

You regret have not meeting Luffy when Ace was around. Dancing around his features is a tender skip of tightness; his shoulders pulled up to his ears, head ducked down, lips awkward and tongue thick as he told you the story of being accepted to be Ace's brother. Hues of embers fluoresce, dripping down on Sunny's figurehead as you reached an arm around him; his words are stained in blood and adoration, strained and slow but Luffy persists, his love persists.

"You should've met him!" He finishes, turning to you with a light chuckle. "You would've loved him."

Your hand falls onto his shoulder, pulling him closer despite the crawl of vomit up your throat and you leaned your head against his straw hat. "Maybe I will."

Death is another thing you think is simple. It's as easy as slipping into Chopper's office to find him hunched over his desk, his hooves holding onto a pestle as he circled the butt around in a mortar. "Ah, you're here?" He glanced over his shoulder as you walked around him and settled onto one of the beds he has in his room. "Give me a second! I nearly have your medicine ready."

"Chopper," you think you've played this out in your head before, "I have hanahaki."

His arms slow down to a halt, his face dropping by several degrees; the previous petals that made up his hopeful and cheerful expression flutter to the floor, guided by the winds you'd altered with those four words.

"Hanahaki?" Chopper's words are slow as he settled the pestle down, "I thought— but it doesn't exist?"

"Funnily enough, it died off." You tell him with a little laugh. "As more people took to the seas and chased after the one piece, less people fell victim to hanahaki." The Chopper you've told this to before in your mind was definitely less devastated and surprised to be greeted by the fact that you have hanahaki.

He's stumbling over his words, trying to pick something to focus on first as his face was scrunched up, eyebrows furrowed, and lips open into disbelief. "How long have you known? Why didn't you tell me? You'll have the surgery, right? You can trust me; I'll definitely save you. When did it first start?" Your head is pounding with the incessant questions he spits at you, unable to answer any of them as any allowance for a response was filled in by another inquiry. Suddenly, he's pulling his mind to a stop as he turned back to you, solemn and sad and asks, "who is it?" 

It's easy to tell how Luffy has touched people, Chopper makes note of the way your head tilts and you smile and it's obvious that there was no one else capable of calling upon your love.

"And the surgery?"

The look on your face, although foreign to you, tells him all he needs to know.

That doesn't stop him though, he keeps himself by your side and urges (pleads) you to have the surgery; his constant presence becomes a problem when he makes a point of forcing Luffy away from you. It's small at first, trying to distract Luffy with other things, claiming to want to be the one to watch over Luffy when you all dock so you're not given the chance, clinging onto your arms and demanding your attention when Luffy threatens to take it away from him. Then, when Luffy notices that he's been holding onto this flower for hours, fingers pinched around a sunflower stem to ask you how you get seeds from the flower to eat, and every time he's seen a speck of your colour from corners, Chopper shows up to drag you away or points a finger somewhere to shout about a meat mountain, he has a problem.

You notice it's about the meat mountain at first though.

He's slamming the door to Chopper's office after the fourth time, shouting, "Chopper! Where's the meat mountain you keep talking about?" He doesn't seem to care about the fact that Chopper is checking up on you as he stomps into the room, plopping himself down right next to you. Chopper pushes him away when your shoulders brush against each other and you're coughing out bloodied petals. His attention diverts when he hears the shaking of your cough, how you knock into him uncontrollably as your torso leans to meet your thighs, hands deep into the foam edge of the mattress. Petals splatter onto your shoes, clinging to the leather with saliva and re–painting the laces in a sickly red. Luffy’s touch is intrusive, a hand tightened on your thigh that burns your skin to ash and forces vines to splutter out your skin. They attack him, you reel yourself away from Luffy in hopes that they don’t reach him but in some disgusting way, they force themselves to new lengths to coil around his limbs. Spindling up and up and up and you can’t see his face anymore as a thick rope of vines in the shape of his hand reaches out for you, they keep moving up until you only see his hat— your back knocks against the wall. You sternly tell yourself this death is acceptable; the vines grow limp.

When you’ve calmed down enough, the first thing Luffy asks you is, “why aren’t you better yet?” And you feel as though you’re being scolded for some reason; your eyes flicker over to Chopper, fingers tangled together in front of your thighs from the corner of the room you’ve forced yourself into. When Luffy catches the wandering glances— as if you’re trying to keep him out of something— he treats you exactly how you’re acting. Like a criminal.

“Chopper?” It’s unnerving how his eyes are still on you, no trace of expression on his face, “out.”

“But—”

“Out.” Chopper throws you an unhelpful glance as he passes you to get to the door.

You’ve always had the wrong impression of Luffy— everyone that doesn’t know him has the same image; he’s a pirate that has taken down warlord after warlord, who has brought horrifying change and shifts the balance of authority wherever his feet take him. Hearing hushed whispers of him and his close affiliates in the lightened haze of booze, to distract from a tooth getting knocked out of place never does much for his image either. Though it wouldn’t be right to say that Luffy is wholly good either— he’s selfish. Selfish and impossibly kind and downright disgusting with the handling of his own needs; the sound of your name fizzing between his teeth has you startled, nodding your head back to him on the bed you’d left him at.

“You’re hiding something.” It’s not a question nor is it an accusation of any kind. It’s an observation. Luffy slides himself off the bed, his sandals comically slap against the floor of Chopper’s office, “tell me.” His hands fall onto your shoulders, one stays there and the other slides down. He treats your skin like an amusement park for his pleasure; his nails drag across the goosebumps of your bicep, pressing down on raised scars and then splashes into the palm of your hand, dragging ripples in the centre.

You hesitate, twisting your fingers together and pulling as if to attempt to dislodge the odd feeling that follows his fingertips. “Are you asking as a captain?” Despite how general expectations of Luffy remain pretty low to those who do know him, it’s also known that Luffy has a nerve in him that’s impossibly receptive to hurt. There’s a certain way to activate it and when it’s on, it doesn't quieten down until its idiot owner is pleased. Luffy scrunches his face up in an odd way, displeasured at your question as if he couldn’t believe you’d ask him something that hurtful, and his head tilts.

“Tell me.” You’re met with an unwavering stare, the hand on your shoulder tightens and there’s a hardness to it that you’ve never associated with your rubber captain— you can feel the bone in his fingers, stern and undeniable. Your eyes trace over the exposed, tanned skin of his bicep and you wish that you could force your vines through his skin to crawl into his chest and listen to the tremors that’ll run up your devil fruit from his beating heart for some kind of answer. There’s a sudden breath that’s available to you that isn’t tainted and clogged, trapped before it even meets your lungs, but it burns in a new way as you stare at Luffy, scared and terrified of a new life that’ll be forced upon you if you tell him what’s wrong with you.

You open your mouth with an excuse, but Luffy huffs and the words shrivel in your mouth, collapsing to a grain on your tongue and when you close your mouth, you taste dirt. “Luffy,” you beg, “I can’t— just, I’ll be fine.”

There’s a hint of some anger in his gaze before it turns into a haunting realisation, “Chopper knows, doesn’t he?” He pushes you aside, “I’ll just ask Chopper.”

There’s a ringing distant in your ears that chimes like the bell of the church from that place two islands ago, maybe three— you haven’t been too good with time recently. Sunny shakes like the earth as a body hits the pavement, you feel disgusting and heavy and an itch claws through your palms where Luffy’s hand has just been. You’re sure it’s Chopper he’s shaking an answer from but you hear Robin’s voice, calling for him to calm down and when that doesn’t work, Sanji cuts in. It all gets further and further away, you think about the planks of Sunny opening to welcome you back into that darkness from nights ago, you think about being choked by one of your vines, you think about the wisteria blooming whole in your lungs— you think and you think and think and suddenly, it’s all nothing. You’re dying, you think, that’s a fact, what else? Luffy is the reason. Or maybe you’re the reason.

“Luffy,” were you the one talking? “Luffy.” The voice comes again, stern and your eyebrows furrow with the same tension that the voice is carrying. “Thank you for being my captain.”

Not that it surprises you, Luffy punches you.

[koolades-world]

Can you do headcanons with all the characters of an MC that has scars on their body from maybe a car crash years ago and how they would react to seeing them? Can you also do an MC who’s really insecure about them and tries to hide them?

Please and thank you 🙏🙏🙏🙏

hello! sure thing :)

idk why this one got so long? slight angst warning for belphie's (lesson 16 reference) actually might write belphie's as a drabble! if y'all are interested in seeing the others as drabbles too, let me know!

enjoy <3

Mc who's insecure about scars from a car crash

Lucifer

he didn't think much of it, since he too prefers clothing that covers basically everything, even down to gloves however, the attention to detail came down to how you behaved and the way in which you vehemently avoided any situation in which you'd have to change into something you hadn't selected or needed to wear something more revealing

one late night, you ran into each other in the kitchen, and while he expected it to be beel, raiding the fridge again but he found you crying on the floor

of course, he asked what was wrong, and while at first you didn't say anything, he stayed by your side. when the tears had slowed down and you could speak again, you told him it was the anniversary of the devastating car crash and you confessed how much it took from you

that was the first time lucifer had ever hugged you, and for once, you felt at home in the devildom. for the years to come, he makes sure to spend that entire day with you to make you feel loved

Mammon

he's the first to see them and learn of their existence because of how quickly the two of you grow close. you had many movies nights together where you ended up asleep on his shoulder and he caught glances of the scars

he never asked, but he was forever curious. he wanted to wait for you to tell the story rather than intrude on your privacy, even if that meant he never learnt

eventually after you deliberated with yourself, during one of those movie nights, you turned to him and told him everything after mentally debating

you could tell you'd help satiate his curiosity, but of course he was very sweet about it. he starts coming home with things he knows will make you feel gorgeous and expects nothing in return

Levi

the two of you spend a lot of time gaming, reading, and watching anime together. your favorite characters are said to be a reflection of you, and he noticed that pattern after enough time

now, he wasn't quite sure what to do with that information, how he would even start to go about addressing that, or if it was just him and he was looking into it too much. maybe you just had a certain type you enjoyed, although part of him hoped it wasn't that, because that would mean your type wasn't him

nevertheless, he kept this information to himself and dwelled on it until one night, you brought that very topic up yourself. at first you hesitated, but once he told you to think of it as your "lore" you became more comfortable with the situation and told him

he wasn't quite sure what to say, but offered you comfort. you spent the rest of the night watching your favorite anime and from then on, you got to see this more gentle, loving side of him more often. maybe one day, he'd tell you about his "lore" in depth too

Satan

he felt like the entire situation was something right out of a romance novel, where the two main characters slowly grow closer like the two of you were, and the exchanging of backstory that inevitable happens at some point

but, he didn't expect yours to include something so devastating in nature and how it affected your life in the aftermath. he's amazed at the way you have been healing yourself over the followings years. he admires your strength, and he knows that the scars and accident don't define you

you spent most of your evenings together, either at an outing or just at home together. it was one of these evening sessions by the fireplace together in the living room where the two of you were cuddling, and he noticed them on your shoulders. of course he didn't mention it, but you noticed him looking

since there was nobody else around, you decided to tell him since you would've at some point eventually. he doesn't make a big deal out of it because you didn't, but he lets you know if you ever need someone to talk to, he would be there

Asmo

he noticed that your entire wardrobe, including sleepwear and formalwear was all long sleeve and basically covered you head to toe

to try and get closer to you, he took you shopping and still saw you only picked out things that fit into your current wardrobe despite seriously eyeing several other pieces of clothing that were short sleeved. you didn't get them, but he could tell you wanted them, so as a surprise, he bought all of the items for you and presented it as a gift

through your tears, you thanked him and decided to tell him why you didn't get them. he apologizes profusely, but you tell him it was alright and that one day, you'd wear them

once you're finally closer, you wear one of the short sleeved pajama sets to a sleepover with just him, and he can feel his heart swell with the amount of trust you'd put in his hands. expect to be pampered <333

Beel

while he's not the first to see them, he was the first to catch on to their existence. he's very good with reading your emotions and could easily tell when you were uncomfortable. every time, he saved you from the situation but he was afraid of how you might feel when he wasn't around

the two of you had just gotten done with a jog that ended in a park, where the two of you sat in the grass to relax before headed home. while there, your conversation got rather deep and you ended up discussing thing you never thought might slip out

the manner in which you told him was detached and while you mentioned it in passing, beel was insistent you go back to that topic. he held you close, despite the fact that you were both sweaty and gross, because the thing that mattered most to him was how you felt

of course he wouldn't pry, and he didn't, but he will guard your secret with his life now. anytime you need him or just want to talk, or need a hug, he's there unconditionally

Belphie

when you initially met, when he was imprisoned in the attic and you thought he was human like he claimed he was, whenever you'd chat he could tell there was something you were holding back

he asked upfront what the matter was, not realizing he'd strike such a nerve. you took it not how he expected you to and you stormed off, upset. he was concerned he'd jeopardized his plan but there wasn't anything he could do about it now

later that night you returned, you had cooled off and apologized, and told him why you had been so disturbed by his comment. you showed him the few on your upper back and neck, and told your story. he almost felt bad about what he'd done

when he held you aloft by your neck, that same part of him that felt guilty chimed in again and made him remembered the scars you'd shown him and the kinship you thought you shared together, when you thought he was a human. it was a shame not all of him felt sorry for you

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for making a post about an adult making a sexual comment under one of my sfw work posts as a minor?

FYI, sorry for any bad spelling, I have really bad dyslexia.

(🐶👀❤️ for future finding)

Cw for sexual comments to a child, online harassment, and mentions of grooming.

Just for context this didn’t happen on tumblr, this all happened on twitter (yes yes the Elon musk rat site that we all hate) and I’m putting this here because I use both twitter and tumblr and I want a second opinion.

here’s the characters before we start

Me, (17 trans masc)

nsfw account (22 they/them)

so recently I posted a tweet that was a fun fact type tweet about a character from a show I like. Along the lines of “this character can play the tuba!”

Then a 18+ account (this will come up later) replied with “he must have a strong mou*gets shot*”

this is a common meme format but it was obviously nsfw in nature. Now don’t get me wrong, I am in a fandom for a more mature show and understand 18+ accounts may engage with me, and not check my bio. But putting a blatantly under a sfw post and not even bothering to check for my age is just- really disgusting. Not to mention this account had replied and liked many of my tweets.

I gave it a few hours to see if they would correct the obvious mistake, cuz sometimes I back track and realize a mistake, correct it and move on.

but nothing, radio silence. So I replied to their comment stating they had made me incredibly uncomfortable and that I was a child, and then made a small post since a few my adult mutuals follow them (for context I have like 100 followers and they have over a thousand)

it wasn’t a “call out post” just a simple “hay this person did something wrong and I’m telling my tiny bubble of people because some of you happened to follow” I wasn’t trying to get anyone canceled basically.

I didn’t put their @ in the post directly, just a screen shot of the inappropriate replay and their profile showing some mutuals follow.

they then quote retweeted me, telling me “I could have just blocked them and moved on, and that this is a 18+ fandom so I shouldn’t even be here” (it’s actually a 16+ show but whatever)

mutable of their followers processed to gang up on me and tell me I was a pathetic and should leave the internet forever, repeating with the person had said in their quote retweet when ever I tried to argue.

I ended up having to full on private my account because I was so triggered (I’m a grooming victim so this whole situation made me feel almost sick)

I know the person fucked up, but was the post not ok? At first it felt like it was warranted but now I’m second-guessing myself and thinking that I might be the one in the wrong. Should I have just done what they wanted and blocked and moved on?

AITA?

[h-didanart]

I MADE IT

CHARACTER REF SHEETS

FINALLY I CAN SHARE THESE GUYS PROPERLY

:D

*ahem* Hello fellow fans and au makers! I am here to showcase my silly little au. Allow me to introduce you to our main characters:

These are Sunset and Moonlight, from The Sunset and Moonlight show! Close ups and info dump below

Where to start where to start, okay, a general description of the AU should be good to start with yeah? Yeah

This is a swap au, but unlike what I usually see swap AUs do, this is less of a full personality swap and more of a ‘bend the characters to a point where they change roles’ thing.

NOW. THE CHARACTERS THEMSELVES—

Sunset Rays Celestial-

Sun is a tired and apathetic guy. He would like to be left all alone in his room for the rest of his days, but that’s not really a good thing so he’s fine just living a calm and drama-free life.

His hobbies include cleaning, painting, sewing, and gaming. The cleaning has gotten embedded into his code to a concerning degree, he will clean a spot over and over for hours if he’s having a bad day. He got into art while he was undergoing “repairs”, he found painting to be a fun activity despite its messiness, and sewing has proven to be fruitful for his wardrobe. He’s gotten so good at these that he actually gets commissions and is paid very well. He prefers to draw with pastels and markers when he can. The video games are a shared hobby with his twin brother, Moon, they both play together sometimes. His favorite game is Cult of the Lamb.

He has a malfunction of sorts where his voice box will give out randomly and he’ll be unable to talk. It’s annoying but he doesn’t really mind, he has gotten really good at sign language from it. Plus, he uses it as an excuse to avoid talking to Moon whenever he gets the chance to.

The Computer absolutely hates his guts and has sent him off to various different dimensions. He’s acquainted with quite a few people and even has friends.

He has very good aim, both in video games and physically. He usually uses it to throw something at Moon to get his attention. Or to get him to leave him alone. Or to annoy him. Or just because. This has proved to be a really bad habit.

Despite being generally apathetic, he’s actually pretty good with emotions, being able to read them well on others and act accordingly.

He also knows magic.

Crescent Moonlight Celestial-

Moon is an energetic and nervous guy. He wants nothing more than to live happily with his brother. And do science, he’s a nerd.

His hobbies include science and gaming. On the side of science he specializes on robotics, programming, and inter dimensional studies, with some advanced physics as well. He’s a genius, basically. Gaming is a shared hobby between him and his twin brother, they both play together sometimes. He seems to have taken a liking to the Kingdom Hearts series, but Pokémon will forever have his heart.

The killing code is very much still in him, it manifests as heat on the back of his head and irritability. During a full kill code episode he’ll be extremely aggressive, on top of having increased physical capabilities and virtually no filter. He dreads having those and constantly checks his temperature. Independent from the kill code he has a bad temper.

He isn’t exactly a ‘people’s person’ yet due to having been the active Daycare Attendant for a few months he has grown acquainted with a few of the Pizzaplex animatronics. Montgomery took a liking to him. Because money.

Because of reasons he has a lot of bunkers on a lot of different parts of the world. He remembers them all thanks to the collection of tree branches he has picked up when he visited. These are jokingly called The Whacking Sticks (and is a genuine joke, he just likes collecting sticks)

He wanted to learn emotions better so he decided to find the code that controls emotions in himself and turned it on all the way. He’s starting to realize this wasn’t a good idea.

A master acrobat, he loves flying with the wire.

In case it wasn’t clear yet, Sun and Moon switch places in this au. Things may change, and I may come up with funny details later, but I hope you had fun reading this little introduction to my au

More stuff about them to come at some point!

[slipppyy]

Warning this is a mindelsss rant and its all my thoughts slabbed into a post bc I've been re-reading the holy trinity (Batman and Robin 2009, Red Robin 2009, and Batgirl 2009)

2009 is actually the best era of batman comics for me. Like batman 2009, red Robin 2009, and Batgirl 2009 are all such bangers and it's crazy to me that it took Bruce dying for the batfamily to truly flourish but hell it WORKS. Like they're not perfect, and I have my gripes with grant morrision but I feel that comics were just really good and it will forever make me sad that these comics (especially red robin) ended so terribly because of n52. Dick and Damian make such a good batman and robin. It's fresh, it's interesting, and I loved watching their relationship grow. They even got some good Jason stuff in there. Red Robin 2009 is phenomenal and just a great character study of Tim. Batgirl 2009 introduced Steph as Batgirl and is probably my favorite DC series ever. Ironically, I think these series suffer a bit when it's revealed Bruce is alive and comes back and what not (I'm not too big a fan of batman inc but idk if that's just me.)

So dc. What I propose is that you kill off Bruce. Again. Since apparently it works really well.

kidding. That would be redundant considering he just died. Basically I'm asking for more batfamily centered stories that show that they are messy. I feel like the batfamily is too perfect nowadays. They aren't flawed. They don't fight. 2009 showed just how fucked up and mentally ill these characters were like they were oftentimes shitty to eachother but they still loved eachother ITS WHAT MADE THEM SO GOOD

I miss it sm n52 I'll forever hate you

[apopcornkernel]

i dont know if there's even a ppop presence on tumblr but i do also want to promote ALAMAT, a 6-member idol boy group from the Philippines. Its members comprise of Taneo, Mo, Jao, Tomas, R-ji, and Alas. They debuted in 2021, and their creative direction centers on championing the Filipino identity and culture through their music.

sorry that ^ was a copypaste but it's a very useful and concise copypaste LOL but onto my own promo:

(note: also most of these videos have english subs!!)

(extra note bc this issue always pops up whenever locals encounter alamat: mo is always wearing black hairstyes bc he is blasian and not bc he is appropriating from black culture hdfjhdf)

KASMALA, the inverted Tagalog word for "strong" (malakas), is the MV that really did numbers on social media iirc. The video direction focused on the "human zoo" in the St. Louis' World Fair of 1904 (which included Filipinos specifically Igorots), and a general theme of anti-Filipino racism by white people (who are represented as ominous figures literally dressed in all white)

personal opinion: the music video is great but i personally think they have better songs, music-wise. and i'm going to give you an example of that by introducing you to my ALL-TIME FAVORITE ALAMAT SONG!!!

ILY ILY, a transliteration of "Ili-Ili Tulog Anay", incorporates the melody and lyrics of the Ilonggo lullaby it derives its title from. The MV and lyrics both work together to portray the experience of being an OFW/having an OFW parent. OFWs, or overseas Filipino workers, refer to Filipinos who go abroad in search of jobs that have better pay, so that they can remit money back to their families in the Philippines.

personal opinion: this is their best song THIS IS THEIR BEST SONG EVER OF ALL TIME and lyca gairanod is such a perfect singer for this. her ethereal crooning really gave me chills the first time i heard it UGH

DAYANG, the term for the wife of a Datu, is one of their most earworming songs ever. It's a gorgeous love song and what I would recommend to newbies if they want to get into alamat <3

personal opinion: The MV is kinda ass because it's just a super long extended ad for DITO PH (in terms of story and also bc they really missed out on doing a vid that drew more on culture esp bc dayang is a historical noble title and they used tausug words and designs for the graphics an the dance itself already incorporated pangasik dance which is also from the tausug people LIKEEE?? they've always promoted other cultures of the philippines i know they can do it but because of CAPITALISM--). But the song bangs so severely, as a pop enjoyer this is peak pop for me.

OH I ALMOST FORGOT DAGUNDONG

DAGUNDONG, a song basically recounting the colonial history of the Philippines from Spain to America, is just so fucking good you should watch/listen to it rn. There's EN subs don't worry you won't miss out on the context. This is colonial rage it's so satisfying I still remember where I was when they dropped this.

personal opinion: FOREVER OBSESSED WITH HOW THEY SAY "dahil puso mandirigma di papakutsa di papapugon" you guys have no idea how much i sing that line to myself sooo satisfying. Instant earworm this song i swear.

OK ONE LAST one last and i'm done. okay.

MAHARANI, a Sanskrit term for the wife of a Maharaja (translated as "great queen"), heavily features singkil, a Maranao dance which uses bamboo poles like tinikling does. The song also uses SEAsian instruments like kanun, gamelan, and gangsa. Also BINI's Jhoanna plays one of the main characters here!!!

personal opinion: this is their most pop-sounding song, which i think is slightly carried by the video i'm sorryyy. it's catchy though!! and i looove the part somewhere halfway where alas starts his verse, singing it in a more spoken-word way

___

okay 5 songs is. probably enough. this post is already kinda long shdfjskdff but yeah. pls check them out if you can hehe <3

also ppop idols are just really funny. there's no concept of an idol image so they just tweet shit. alamat jao gave out his genshin UID after a fan tweeted about having co-oped with him in genshin, and then after that he started answering questions with the hashtag "#canceljao" making a lot of magiliws (alamat fans) confused, and then he posted a classic iphone notes apology like this 😭

i'll do a bini version after this my girls deserve more international hype. they occupy a more girlcrush pop genre but they're just as chaotic as alamat if not even more 😭 there are entire THREADS on twitter of them just being hilarious jdhfkshgf i love them so much

thanks for reading <3

[t0ast-ghost]

S3 EP13 (Elaan Of Troyius) fully don’t know what to expect.

Start it up:

- Spock and McCoy banter in the turbo lift and Kirk gives them a smile before leaving

- Kirk is immediately a little hostile towards the ambassador

- I like how Kirk just looks around like ‘guess we should bow now’

- They stopped Spock’s infodump to Kirk. Sad.

- “Captain, the Dolman is dissatisfied with the quarters provided.” Spock is already done. So done.

- things getting thrown

- Kirk is also done. He’s so done.

- I like episodes where they’re on the ship with someone vaguely annoying

- Time to play ‘who does the random spaceship belong to’

…. That’s right! It’s the Klingons!

- Oh yep. She killed the ambassador. Who would’ve guessed. (Edit: he lived lol)

- “A man whose flesh is once touched by the tears of a woman of Elas has his heart enslaved forever.” So.. who’s it going to be? I’m guessing Kirk right now

- She should have the right not to marry someone. Like it’s not great that they’re basically selling her even if it’s for peace

- Every time someone slaps them, they just slap them back

- Kirk is THAT BITCH

- Did the red shirt get his neck snapped?

- Kirk planned to have Spock shoot the guards. He’s feral omg

- YEAH! Bite him!

- what. this is her problem? Or no she was manipulating him to make him touch her tears. Great… and they’re kissing

- WAIT SHE ASKED ABOUT THE SPANKING (whoever said Star Trek was for kids is a fucking liar. Side note: why did my parents show me TNG)

- Her guards are working with the Klingons aren’t they

- WHAT IS THIS

- They both caught him

- Kirk’s walk over to McCoy and Spock is so awkward

- “(Talking to Spock)Well, we’re in trouble. (Turns to Kirk) Now, listen, Jim. Petri told Christine that the Elasian women have a sort of biochemical substance in their tears that acts like a super love potion, and according to him, it doesn’t wear off.” Only Star Trek would have tears that act like a super love potion

- Stop just letting people on the bridge

- Only people who can break Kirk of his love potion are Spock and McCoy

- Kirk’s character is all about loneliness. How someone can be captain, an entire crew to watch over and command, but he’s always lonely. Spock and McCoy may be the closest thing he has, but they can never know about his feelings because he has to protect them under any and all circumstances

- Swivel chair

- “I’d say our strategy wasn’t totally effective.” I like how Spock just nods along with him

- “I want to die with you.” He considers this a minute because imagine that, someone who wants to be there with you as you die

- IT WAS A NECKLACE OF DILITHIUM CRYSTALS ?!?

- She gives him her dagger..

- “Bye.” “Good-bye.” I love the shortness of their farewells.

- damn McCoy was so happy to bring the antidote to Spock (he wants Spock to be happy with him)

- “In this particular instance, Doctor, I agree with you.” McCoy is shocked

- They share this look and then remember not to kiss on the bridge

This episode was… interesting.

Masterpost

Episode written by John Meredyth Lucas

[neighborlystudios]

・﹒・ but you have history

Summary: You were preparing your stall in the market as a florist when all the flowers suddenly disappeared from your home. A group arrived to help you find the culprit and you were forever gateful. But after getting stuck with the rabbit named Jax in a cage, he reveals something to you that shatters your world.

Warnings: 15+, existentialism, soft Jax

Pairing: Jax x NPC!reader

Notes: Sorry I like making Jax vulnerable. Also I never beta read have fun.

You angrily stared at the purple rabbit that got you into the current situation now- stuck in a cage, and with him nonetheless. How did you end up here? Well, after your flowers were stolen, a group of people arrived and promised they would get them back. After finding the culprit, you all chased them down. However, the thief put a trap down which led you and the rabbit to stepping on said trap and being lifted high in the air in a metal cage.

"You happy?" You snarked at the equally as upset rabbit. You were bad with names so you forgot his, but didn't care enough to ask for it again. Plus, he was rude to you first, so it was fair.

"Oh yeah, sure I'm happy. Of course I'm not happy! Ya know- if it wasn't for you running ahead we wouldn't be in this situation right now!" You couldn't believe his rudeness!

"Oh I'm the issue? How? What on Earth did I even do? Try and get my flowers back?" You both were basically screaming now, both angry at each other and the fact that you were both stuck in a cage.

"Oh please! I can't believe I'm arguing with a friggin' NPC..." N...pc? What did he just call you? The rabbit rolled his eyes and wrapped his arms around his knees, pulling them up to rest his head on his forearms as he stared out

"What does NPC mean? If it was an insult that was a weird one I've never heard of before"

"You're fake, this whole world is fake, NPC means non-playable character" That made you still. Fake? Everything is fake? Lips wobbling, you shakily scooted over to him and grabbed him by his overalls and shook him. He had to be messing with you, there was no way your world was fake, no way.

"What you mean fake?' You yelled in anger, was he playing some kind of joke? Was he just trying to make you even more mad? He just let you shake him until he had enough and pulled away, pushing you slightly to gain some distance in the small space.

"Your life is all made up by zeroes and ones, computer code. You're not a real person, none of this is! Do you remember your mother? Your father? Anyone that doesn't exist in this village? Your first friend?" All his questions made you ready to argue back when it dawned on you that you didn't remember any of that. You couldn't even remember your parents' names, or faces, why couldn't you? Leaning back, you tried so hard to remember everything he asked you, yet, you couldn't answer a single one. Putting your hands over your head, you shrieked as he was right- everything was a lie. Tears quickly formed and you sobbed.

"So I'm not even real? Nothing is real?" You were breathing so heavily as the realization crashed onto you. But you just visited your mom last week! ....right? Oh no, what was happening? No, no, no, this can't be your life, you're real, you're real!

"Oh would you shut up?" You temporarily paused and looked up at him, gosh he was horrible. You slapped him in the arm, causing him to yelp and rub the area as he scowled at you.

"Oh, me shut up? Why does it matter? I'm fake right? So what does that make you? Aren't you fake too?" You were still sniffling as he sighed and rubbed his head.

"Because I've been trapped in this friggin' simulation for who knows how long. I was originally a human in the real world. This?" He then motions with his hand, waving around. "Is inside all a computer" You still felt on edge considering your whole life was a lie, but started to calm down.

"You mentioned this thing- computer- twice now. What is that?"

"Well, its a thing where you can have it do anything" You stared at him with your eyes wide, is that possible?

"Anything?" You whispered, in awe at what he said. Can it actually do anything? Well, considering it's possible of creating fake realities- then yeah, but that still just seemed impossible.

"Yep! Including your world. The AI that controls it makes these worlds to keep us busy. Its stupid" The rabbit wasn't looking at you now, he was staring outside the bars into what you now understood wasn't real, especially to him.

"Why busy? What happens if you're not busy?" The question caused his face to change, he looked almost...sad.

"Well, when we aren't kept busy and aren't kept sane uh...something called "abstraction" happens where we lose ourselves and become huge glitchy monsters. It's uh...not pretty" He looked so hurt as he curled in on himself, pained, like he wanted to cry. Slowly raising your hand, you rubbed it slowly against his back and couldn't help but feel like you wanted to comfort him. You may not have been real- but that didn't mean what you're experiencing right now isn't and couldn't help him.

"At least you don't have to worry about that stuff, you don't have to worry about your friends dying because they couldn't take it...haha. I mean, of course you'd go insane after being stuck in a world that isn't yours in a body that isn't yours and life is meaningless hahah" You knew he was hurting from his situation and still wasn't the kindest, but you still felt like you could make something out of this life, whatever it may be.

"But at least you have history, you have real memories. I...I don't. I learned that I only exist for you guys, ha...so what after this I'm just going to cease to exist? Is that it?" You decided to accept your fate- you weren't going to live anymore after this, you were going to die.

"That's the thing, NPC- every unlucky winner loses everything from the real world. Every single memory. It's so stupid!" He hit the bars, causing the cage to shake as you try and stable yourself from his anger. That made you feel sad as his anger was justified, but the excuse that your life was better because you were ignorant to your true nature.

"That's why my name is Jax. I couldn't remember it when I came here and everyone else doesn't even remember their friggin' name either. I mean, how cruel can life be?"

"Well, isn't it as equally cruel knowing that you're entire life was fake and made for someone else's entertainment without having any real memories of the past?" You didn't want to argue or fight back with him, but you had to funnel your anger out too while also proving his point right.

"I guess you're right"

[inbarfink]

Okay, so like, I love Undertale to bits, but it does often rub me the wrong way when people use it in comparison to games like OFF, which condemn the Player’s violent actions without actually offering the option for a Pacifist resolution, like “well, Undertale is Objectively Better because there’s an actual choice to be nonviolent so it can actually condemn the player in a meaningful way”.

Especially with OFF, I think. Cause while many people consider it a predecessor to Undertale, their themes and the way they relate to their “What the Hell, Player” moments are very different, I think. And this attitude of judging them purely on whatever they’re effective at making the player ‘feel bad’ about their actions is really reductive for what both games are trying to do with these kinda moments.

Like, in general it’s super frustrating when video game moments discussing morality and player-player character relationships are evaluated purely in the sense of ‘are these games justified in Making Me Feel Like a Bad Person’. That’s usually a super-reductive way to look at video game morality. And I really don’t think it helps the discussion to frame “What the Hell Player” moments as an actual personal attack or attempt to evaluate your IRL morality.

And specifically with OFF, I feel like it’s actually very thematically important that the game only has one ‘Route’ and that it is the ‘bad’ one. Because OFF, in my reading at least, is a game very much about narrative framing. Like, that’s the whole thing with the Batter not actually transforming as his Special Ending Monster Duckie Form.

The Batter didn’t change, our point of view did. When we’re controlling the Batter, it is his POV that we’re seeing the world through - and in his POV he’s just an ordinary guy doing the right thing. But if we take the Judge’s side, we’re also taking on his POV. And the Judge, much like any other victim of the Batter, sees him as some sort of monster.

And that’s like a huge theme in the game. While there’s probably no POV that makes the world of OFF like an actually good place to live, it is important to note we are viewing it through the perspective of someone who has already vowed to destroy it. I know a lot of people look at the difference between the Guardians as they are in the Room’s Chapter 4 and the Guardians as the Batter face them as a matter of a personal change between then and now - I think the matter of different perspectives also plays a part.

In the Room we are viewing Dedan, Japhet and Enoch through the eyes of an innocent child that is desperate for companionship and sees them as friends - in the rest of the game we are viewing them through the eyes of a man who sees them as obstacles in his holy mission and upholders of a world that must be destroyed. Neither of them can give a truly unbiased perspective when it comes to the Guardians.

And despite the game making it explicit that the Batter is as a puppet controlled by the Player - although the Player is the one who give the Player Character power - it is the Batter who manipulates the Player into aiding him on his mission by framing it in a way that is more palatable. Despite all the power the player supposedly holds, the Batter holds the power over the narrative framing, and that’s enough to let him take control.

That’s why there’s really no choice in the game but keep helping the Batter along his ‘Holy’ mission - him being able to influence our framing also means being able to influence the options we can see. It is the Batter who wants us to see a world where his violence and destruction is the only possible solution. And the point of the Judge calling out the Player for continuing along the Batter’s set path (rather than stopping the game and turning it off) isn’t just to Make the Player Feel Bad for doing what they need to do to, like, see the whole of this well-crafted story....

It’s to make the Player self-reflect. When did they first had the inkling that the Batter isn’t on the up-and-up? If (‘if’ bring the keyword here) it was all real, when would the point where continuing to aid the Batter would be morally inexcusable? By the point the Batter is beating a defenseless child to death it’s pretty darn clear that We’re the Baddies, but did the Player process any of the hints beforehand? Just how much sway did the Batter’s framing of the world and the narrative hold over the player? And how this is different and similar to how the Player normally engage with other narratives, especially other RPGs?

There is a reason, after all, why the Judge big speech at the end is also about how felt deceived and tricked by the Batter’s words. His feelings are meant to be a reflection of a Player’s on some level.

And despite ‘calling-out’ the Player, he does make it clear he also sees himself as culpable of aiding the Batter in his henious actions. The Player and the Judge’s situations are somewhat paralleled here. 

And it feels very notable that the Judge starts out explictly addressing to the Player much more than the ‘Puppet’:

And by the ending of the game, although he does call-out the Player to, he’s got a lot more to say to the Batter as well.

I think it’s because he also underestimated the power the Batter had as a ‘Puppet’ of the Player, up until he realized how he managed to manipulate both him and the Player (although he still sees both himself and the Player at fault for falling for it and helping the Batter).

I think the main point here is to try and make the Player think more critically about the narratives they engage with. In many ways, the Batter is the concept of the RPG protagonist dilluted to its logical extreme. He was literally brought into existence just moments before the story started, and his only purpose in life is to defeat all the bosses, ‘finish’ all of the areas and then just turn the game OFF. That’s also why siding with the Batter is considered the ‘canon’ ending of the game, in this allegory it is the ending that correspond most to Regular Player Behavior.

It’s trying to make you think about how different POVs and narrative framing can be used to change the way we view a story. If the Batter can skew the lens we view the story enough so that it makes us side with him… how other forms of media, and in this case espacially other games can convince us that the protagonist’s actions are justified and heroic? Is there some ignored angle in this and that game, some ignored ‘Judge’ of sort, that would totally reframe the supposed morality of the story?

I think that’s the main thing, or at least one of the main things, one is supposed to get from OFF. Not just a blanket sense of guilt for all the made-up pixels you killed in this game or other games, but an invitation to try and examine the stories you play from more angles, and think more of the narrative tricks that can be used to justify morally dubious actions. For this to work, the game has to work in tandem with the Batter and his POV for the most part.  And because of all of this, I believe OFF’s lack of a ‘moral choice’ system does not take away from its central points and actually helps them. The only choice comes when the Judge barges in and offers a counter-narrative to the Batter. 

Undertale, in contrast, is a lot more about Player Actions and Player Agency. Like, Chara and a Murder-Route Player have essentially a reverse dynamic from the Batter and a Normal Ending Player. With the Player convincing the Player Character (?) into the viewpoint that the world exists just to be drained of Content before turning it Off and moving on to the next one.

Undertale is more about the Player having power, and not just in the Unkillable Time God sense, in the sense of the power to reframe and change the narrative. Both the Undertale Pacifist and Murder Route has an element of going ‘off script’ of what the game story ‘expects’. Like, the Normal Ending is the only one where the the Player just does what was expected of them and engage with the game world in the same way all the other characters do - that’s just why it only exist to try and convince you to go on one of the other routes.

The Pacifist Route is about the Player using their Aforementioned Unkillable Time God Powers to break away from the world’s general resignation to violence as the answer and proving to everyone a peaceful resolution is possible. The Murder Route is about the Player engaging with the world like… an ordinary RPG basically (as long as you’re heavy on the grinding) and in the process twist the entire narrative into something much darker. The narrative isn’t tricking you into it, if anything, the narrative is subtly nudging you to the Pacifist Ending.

If Undertale comes off as a more effective ‘condemnation’ of the Player than OFF, that’s probably because compared to OFF Undertale is more about what the Player does and the Player’s actions. I still don’t think it’s a very productive to paint it as, like, trying to Shame you. It just makes things far too unnecessarily personal in a really weird way, and it also kinda isolates discussion of the game’s mortality to only how justified it is within the game’s own context - without any acknowledgement of what the game’s trying to say in a larger context when it makes the characters so darn lovable and makes it so heartbreaking when they die.

Both in context of how we can try and take the game’s ideals into the real world....

And how it relates to other video games. And I mean, Undertale isn’t just about whatever violence in video game narratives is really necessary - that’s absolutely part of it but also, it’s about how Players engage with video game narratives. And whatever looking at them as just challenges to be one by getting the Big Number....

or challenges you need to 100% complete and drain every single secret from 

can take away from what makes a good story actually work.

There’s a reason why the in-universe ‘morally correct’ to play Undertale is to experience the True Pacifist ending once and never open it again. (I dunno if I’ll say the Message of Undertale is ‘looking up all kinds of different minor options and content mining always ruins the magic of stories’ and if it is it’ll be a very funny case of a game’s fandom disproving its own thesis, but it’s certainly something the game wants you consider.)

Despite the obvious influence OFF had on Undertale and especially on it’s Murder Route, I actually think it might be more useful to compare it to Deltarune, at least once we see more of it and where it’s going. With both of these games exploring a very complicated power dynamic between player and player character and the player being robbed of moral choice and possibly forced to do bad things to advance the narrative - it might be actually a more interesting comparison.

[strawberrybabydog]

if we keep doing uwu soft little vampire and big strong dumb werewolf how are we going to ever break out of gender binary

if i see 1 more artist make the masculine/larger/stronger human partner into the werewolf im going to freak out

lycanthropy is about losing yourself. please i am begging you to make someone random, someone unequipped, into a werewolf. please. small scrawny werewolves who are weak and scared, feminine werewolves, werewolves who struggle with the idea of taking something's life (even another animal for food) werewolves who refuse to get dirty because they're averse. werewolves need more than 1 mental illness yall

its kind of a joke at the beginning but not really. make an insane jacked vampire and her petite femme werewife with braided patterned fur or something; make the vampire a seamstress who wont quit until her werewife has the perfect fitting dress for her new furry body. stop with the "oh this character is butch/masc, CLEARLY they would make a good werewolf" shut uuuuupp be a LITTLE more creative. come on!!! do you really think every single werewolf has a premium gym membership? quit drawing them like it !!!

[emile-hides]

The year is 2024, 8 years post release, and Pokemon Go not only finally gives trainers the ability to have more than just the default hair style and one of four eye and skin colors, but decided while they were there to completely blast every other Pokemon Game in the world out of existence by removing Gender entirely and giving the player customizable body types complete with separate sliders for Weight, Muscle, Shoulders, Chest, and Waist

[tennessoui]

so i've been thinking about this premise for so long but it wasn't working for obikin (which of course i took as a challenge) and i think i finally got it where i want it so

au where 35 yo obi-wan is a music sensation across the world but he's recently divorced and going on tour again after releasing a very cutting, personal, and well-received album

and 19 yo anakin joins his tour with his very small band of two other people (ahsoka, padmé) to be his opening act - they have a small but loyal following, a pretty big social media presence, and there are even people who ship anakin and padmé which you know means these are die-hard fans

anakin has definitely looked up to obi-wan and his music for a good portion of his life and he's like. beyond excited that he's going to tour with The Obi-Wan Kenobi - this is big, not just for his music career but also for himself and the little boy he was listening to obi-wan's music for the first time!!

i'm just imagining like....obi-wan and anakin meeting after a few days of rehearsal for opening night, and it's not the most auspicious start because obi-wan's going through like 20 different emotions at any given moment (he's on tour, he's divorced, he's tired, he loves the music, he can't be the person he was in his twenties when he was first on tour but that's a whole different matter, he has all the media training and charismatic instinct to cover up these less than savory emotions with flirtatious empty words) and anakin is just like. sorta starstruck sorta shy sorta eager sorta awkward so:

"i'm uh, i'm a singer it's nice to meet you. hi yeah. hello. i'm on tour. as well. with you. actually." "ah no, are you one of my backing vocal artists? we can't have that - you're much too gorgeous and my ego is much too dependent on the audience focusing on me." "um 😳"

so it's a relationship that begins with a lot of flirting and being flustered and progresses through moments of vulnerability and honest emotion which turns into mutual affection which turns into anakin's celebrity crush becoming very real....meanwhile obi-wan googled anakin and the opening band after the first show/introduction and finds all the stuff about him and padmé being together and that's. that's fine. young love. how sweet. any sort of disappointment obi-wan feels is because he's recently divorced and bitter about it and he's going to have to spend at least half his tour watching the lovebirds snuggling up together.

and even when all the misunderstandings about relationship statuses have been addressed and the pretense has fallen away to leave just attraction, both have to think about their careers - it's all well and good for obi-wan to date someone sixteen years his junior, post divorce, but that's an image he's never wanted to deal with or be associated with. and this is the biggest shot of anakin's career - his best chance to make it in the music industry. in the words of his bandmate, is he really, honestly thinking about risking it for a chance to sleep with The Obi-Wan Kenobi?

but what his bandmate doesn't seem to really understand is that for anakin, obi-wan hasn't been The Obi-Wan Kenobi in a long time. he's just been obi-wan. and that makes a world of difference.

[bitchthefuck1]

Tom's line about Shiv being selfish and "find[ing] it very hard to think about me" is actually so telling because while it's absolutely true that she rarely takes his position into consideration, Tom never once thinks about what he can do to help Shiv unless it also benefits him.

Every single time he makes a move or sacrifice that might help her, it's always something that he thinks will give him a leg up. He volunteers to take the fall for cruises, not for Shiv, who is in no way implicated, or even for Waystar, but because he thinks it'll ingratiate him to Logan, and the second it seems like he might have to actually follow through on that, he immediately tries to get out of it and even throws Shiv under the bus. Meanwhile, for all that Shiv disregards his interests, there are a number of things she does that only help him, and she's the one who actually sacrifices something and undermines her position with Logan to beg him not to let Tom go to jail.

It just makes it so clear that no matter how much he might love her (and I think he does, in his own compromised way), for him their relationship was always built on the underlying assumption that it's her job to prop him up, but it's not his job to help her.

[toldentops]

talk about kinoga. NOW.

GAH I JUST THINK THEY ARE SO............. well first of all. they are so cute and handsome. look at them right now

Second of all I have one million feelings about them and it's barely an exaggeration. For those who aren't familiar, Kinoga is one of my beloved splatoon ocs and I think about them all the time. Originally made when I tossed a "what-if" idea about Trito, my first splatoon oc, who was once part of the octarian military, if he runs into one of the old squad members on the surface, and Kinoga was born with the help of @igneouskit. Brainworms ensue. its terminal. check out their toyhouse

(extremely brief rundown for those unfamiliar with splatoon lore the relevant bits are as follows: some octolings are part of a military that were forced underground after a war with the Inklings over land due to rising seas. At some point during the plot, the song Calamari Inkantation is sung by the two idols, which is apparently imbued in the DNA of all creatures and compels octolings to see the surface. In the splatoon 2 DLC, octo expansion, some octolings are recruited by a shady company called Kamabo Co, which entices participants to enroll in tests through a deep sea metro, and offers the "promised land" as a reward. Completing the tests entails collecting parts of a blender, and the "reward" is getting blended into sludge. This sludge can get injected into other octos which causes them to lose their will and consciousness ("sanitization").

timeline-wise much of their story takes place between splat 2, through octo expansion, and is currently in the splat 3 era. When they were still in the military, they ended up hearing the Calamari Inkantation like Agent 8 did. Kinoga and their squad were incredibly close to each other. Unwilling to just up and leave the underground but wanting to give their squadmates a better life, Kinoga hears about Kamabo's "promised land" and wants to seek it out, so they leave the squad to embark on the metros and promises to return. They do not <3 Some of the tests make them encounter sanitized octolings and they begin to question what's really happening in the metros. Their tipping point is when they run into Agara, one of their squadmates that decided to enter the metros to look for Kinoga and ends up being sanitized. Kinoga, facing the crushing realization that their squadmates had followed them, unaware of the danger, narrowly escapes being killed by Agara and eventually makes it to the surface.

This results in them experiencing a good amount of crushing guilt about leaving, they never knew it would lead to the possibility of dooming their whole squad that followed after them because they were loved and trusted. Kinoga had no way of letting the rest of them know that they should turn back and it's so. AAUGH. They have no choice but to continue on, finding life on the surface and eventually making it to splatsville with the belief that the rest of the squad may be gone. Agara and Trito end up running through the metro, Agara gets sanitized and Trito survives, albeit without getting a nasty scar from an accident that nearly got him sanitized.

Trito makes me insane also. he's my funny silly rabbit. I care about him so so much. trito goes through the metros, to maybe catch up with kinoga or meet them at the promised land, trusting that it was worth leaving if Kinoga decided it was worth it for all of them too.

Trito, upon learning about The Horrors in the metro later, realizes what could have happened to Kinoga and Agara and is unwilling to return to the rest of the squad with this knowledge, struck by the possibility that they're both gone. <-also has to realize that these horrible things have been happening to all the octlings that left to go do the metro tests. He too, eventually escapes to the surface and makes it to Inkopolis.

Years later, Trito, on a day trip to Splatsville, encounters Kinoga on the streets, and they lock eyes. and. fuck. They thought they were dead and had dealt with the grief and accepting that they were gone, effectively pushing those thoughts aside, and now they're physically in front of each other and they have to deal with it again. they make me SICK. Kinoga knowing that trito went to the metros and followed them and made it out also. Trito knowing that Kinoga experienced the horrors as well and survived. Neither of them able to return to tell the rest of the squad but they're both here, alive on the surface and aarrghhhhhhh. now they have to cope with this. they hastily exchange contact information, having to leave each other again, and end up meeting later to really catch up.

I'm so normal about kinoga and their relationship to trito post-domes. They don't even realize that they miss each other so much because they accepted that they were already gone. Seeing how much the other had changed. Being each other's only tie to their previous lives and it dawns on them that they never can move on from this. Kinoga struggles to tell Trito that they couldn't bring themselves to go back, not knowing if they could escape a second time, not knowing if any of their teammates were still left, already dealing with occasional spurts of being wracked by grief. Trito feeling the same, wanting to forget the terrible things and find happiness on the surface, but disheartened when learning that Kinoga also couldn't bring themselves to go back to look (though now that the both of them are together.....they do eventually muster the courage to go back to the domes to look for their old squadmates). It like. sucks so bad. They didn't intend to abandon their squad, but they were given circumstances where they just could not, and none of the other squad members could have known and suffer for it. aarghhhhh.

They end up at Trito's place, Kinoga and Trito end up being very affectionate towards each other after reuniting, definitely Trito being clingier...Compelled to hold onto each other and not let go, not after feeling so much regret about leaving in the first place. It's like. they left once before and terrible things happened out of their control, so they're allowed to hold each other as close as they can so it doesn't happen again (THE DEMONS) (GRIPS). it's irrational for Trito especially to think that he'll never see Kinoga again when they have to leave, since they live in separate cities and have to go in the morning. and kinoga knows it's irrational and they do their best to comfort him anyways because. who could blame him for wanting to keep them there after being gone for so long and so unexpectedly. The slow, crushing experience of not fully registering that someone could be gone and it creeps up to them until it hits. auuuuugh. they have to be so tender with each other, not really knowing where to take things afterwards but relishing in the moment of having each other there. riding the high of each other's comfort. fuck. this post is just getting worse as it goes. Trito breaking down in Kinoga's arms because he's had to hold in his grief and having nowhere to put it and then finally being able to release it. just being able to feel Something again. kinoga feeling so heartbroken to see trito like this, remembering that he was always so outspoken and smiling and having him curled up against them unable to say anything. holding him as tightly as they can. Feeling the need to take good care of him. They aren't his squad leader anymore but they still feel compelled to look out for him because then they can feel like they're doing at least something right. whatever. you guys get the gist. I'm way too much of a sucker for like...............pained intimacy. I'm down terrible. I think both of them deserve a little kissy and more. again. very touchy and affectionate with each other, I guess theyre still like "friends" (A WARRIOR'S BOND. OR WHATEVER) and are not "together" like a couple but here are words from igneouskit who put it better then I could ever. they love each other so much and they make me blow up. worlds most situationship

and also one bit I forgot to mention is that Trito has a huge scar on his chest that he hates talking about, it just brings back the fear and pain felt when he got it, and by association reminds him that he's alone from his squad who may never see again, so he's very protective of it. Upon getting back to kinoga, they do find out about the scar accidentally, and Trito lets them. like auuuugh they were so familiar with each other and now get to see what's changed since the last time. exploring eachother's bodies. whatever

Kinoga also ends up feeling really guilty at some point for Trito being immediately so affectionate towards them, they harbor thoughts that they don’t deserve it after having him go through that pain, and trito having to tell them that he made his own decision, nobody was forcing him to go, and besides, did it to see kinoga and now that they’re right in front of him he can give him all the love he’s been holding for them. Auuughhhh. Like don’t worry about feeling guilty for it. It wasn’t their fault. What matters to him now is that they’re both alive and with each other. I feel like blowing up

Even after Kinoga goes back to splatsville the next day trito is still aches about them......like a few days of reunion could never be enough to compensate for the years that they spent apart. every time they meet up after that trito jumps in kinoga's arms and kiss them like it was the first time they'd reunited

anyways. they eventually go back down to the domes to find the others. By that time, Agent 8 had dismantled Kamabo, the Sludge shit was no longer in operation, and octolings have started going to the surface. Kanu, another squad member, left the domes to find Kinoga, Agara, and Trito(jilon was another squad member who left for reasons I haven't decided yet). Denchu, the last remaining member, stayed behind, holding on to the hope that the missing members would someday return (denchu is a whole other can of worms. theyre everything to me and I feel so terrible for them <3). Trito and kinoga meet denchu, they update them on everybody else, leaving agara unaccounted for. Kinoga, who was the only one to see Agara firsthand, knowing that she might be completely unsalvageable, hesitates to bring it up, but Trito insists on going to look for her. aughhh. kinoga wants to spare trito the pain of seeing her dead or unconscious. They do eventually find her </3

She is alive, but not doing well at all, Kinoga desperate to maybe find some way to undo sanitization and restore her to full health, knowing full well that it may not be possible. They take Agara back with them to the surface and Kinoga spends a lot of time agonizing again over having caused this, feeling that agara's state is somehow their fault (ITS NOTT they're beating themselves up so bad for this because they feel responsible for the squad. aughhh).

I think thats all I have for kinoga. for now. obviously there are more thoughts I can get into but currently my brain has just latched so hard on trito and kinoga's fun situation and I love them so much. didn't think I'd get attached to them this bad but here we are </3. I hope everyone who has read this far also enjoys them as much as I do

[c-kiddo]

(been relistening to cr2 some more) love so much when caduceus has his vry religious very ritualistic moments. its nice. love the slow methodical ritual of it all . love him talking to others like yasha or fjord about it and the extremely slow and careful wording of exactly what he wants to say . love him gently laying a body to rest or growing tea for it . its just niceys

[redpandavvstuffs]

"We need more clomplex female characters!!!"

Yall mfs couldn't even handle her 💀