Tama: gives Luffy a bowl of rice when he needs it instead of eating herself Luffy: showers her starving town in literal mountains of fresh food and water in repayment me: Monkey D. Luffy operates like a fucking fey and for everyone he meets is the random supernatural encounter in a parable about karma starring them. In this essay I will—
strong weirdly rote devotion to wild feasts w/ dancing
follows rigid but alien blue and orange morality
rebalances the scales wherever he goes so most people get exactly what’s coming to them beyond the bounds of reason (when Luffy is not nearby, the One Piece universe very much does not operate like this); most major exceptions: both his sworn brothers, who might be of similar stock and obviously don’t count somehow
on rare occasions spirits people away from their lives on whims
does not always give them back
avoids calling people not among this number their real names
He hears the rumors somewhere in the New World. There’s a competition, they say, with the Mera Mera up for a prize.
He doesn’t go. He can’t.
There’s something about fire, these days, that dances like pain and tastes like failure. At least his wings are blue, but the orange and yellow and red haunts the corner of his eyes constantly, reminding him of what he’s lost.
He doesn’t like fire much anymore.
And then someone passes along a whisper of a story of a rumor, of a new fire user. He won it, fair and square, but it makes Marco’s blood rise all the same. This stranger may have earned it, but it isn’t his.
Still, it’s one rumor out of many, and easy to ignore, especially when he’s got so much to do all the time, trying to keep his family together. He’d been running the day-to-day stuff already, but with Pops…without Pops, it’s harder to keep things from falling apart.
And then one day Haruta brings someone across the deck to meet him. He’s swamped, trying to shift forces around to maintain their protection on their islands, they’re running low on water, and Marco hasn’t sleep in a day and a half, and here’s some guy just showing up to cause more trouble.
Marco tries not to be curt, he does, but the guy sticks out his hand and says, “Hello, Marco,” and Marco takes it and it’s warm.
It’s warm in a way he knows too well, and his tightens his grip instead of letting go. “Tell me,” he says, trying to keep his voice even. “Did you want the Mera Mera Fruit for the power or the fame?”
The guy looks up and meets his eyes steadily, not flinching from the pressure Marco’s putting on his hand. “Neither,” he says. “I wanted it to keep my brother’s memory alive.”
Marco lets go suddenly. “Brother?” he asks, blinking a bit, and he barely notices Haruta slipping away to leave them alone.
“Brother,” the guy says, and sets one hand aflame in the easy casual twist that Marco’s seen a million times before. They both stare at it as it dances on his fingers.
Marco reaches out but hesitates in the heat aura surrounding the flame. “Did it work?” Marco asks.
Ace’s brother nods. “It feels like him,” he says, and the fire jumps a little higher.
Marco dips his fingers in to rest on the gloved palm, and oh. Oh. It really does.
Everything is spinning, has been since the Marines had slapped these handcuffs on his wrists. It makes is stomach roll and his head feel heavy, like he’s sick, but he’s not. It’s bad enough that he can’t even hope to try and get himself out of them.
“To think you were one of the strongest rookies and then you just vanished,” the Marine sneers. “Even more worthless now then you were before, kid.”
Ace wants to snap back, one of the witty lines that he’s used so many time before, but he doesn’t want to vomit. He’s been too dizzy to think of talking. It’s too dangerous and he has to keep his wits about him.
“And your crew’s been missing. Haven’t even spotted them coming to try and rescue you yet.”
“Says who?”
Ace blinks dazed at Jozu, one heavy hand landing on the Marine’s shoulder, his voice hard. “You’re going to give me the keys for this cell and those cuffs, or I’m going to slam you into the wall.”
“Commander?”
“You don’t look good,” that’s Marco, already at his side as the door opens up and kneeling down to grab Ace’s hands, frowning. “Sea stone. Ace, have you ever had anything to do with sea stone?”
“Sea stone?”
“Ace,” It’s hard to pay attention to Marco, even though he has that face where he looks ready to hurt someone. “Look at me. Have you ever felt like this before?”
“No,” Ace whines.
He can’t pay attention to what they are saying even though he can just barely understand it.
“We have to carry him.”
“I’m going to be punching our way out of here, even if he has those off you know how long it’ll take him to come back to himself. You’re better at keeping him steady, you’ve done this before.”
“You’re better equipped to carry him, I’m not over a foot or more taller than him.”
“And you can’t get us back to the Moby as fast as I can.”
Ace startles as he’s moved, face pressed into Marco’s neck, “I’m gonna carry you, alright? Don’t move too much, alright?”
“Don’t move,” Ace mutters slowly, because the world is more dizzying with his eyes close, but he also can’t see it all spinning.
“We’ll get you back to the Moby and get those cuffs off, just hold on a little longer Ace.”
Ace breaths in softly, feeling calmer than before, for all that he still has the cuffs on, it’s safe. Marco and Jozu will make sure that he gets back to the Moby Dick and out of these cuffs. Just like any of the commanders would do, if he listens to the soft conversation that Marco is carrying on with himself about how they won the fight to rescue him.
This is me thinking about how families would help each other get through
nightmares. Although in Sanji’s case, I think he has trauma instead of
just nightmares.
Oh Luffy… only you would accidentally acquire an armada. XD
Lady Karasu 