Back To Your Regularly Scheduled Tntduo Symbolism Overanalyzing: We’re Talking About The Quote “he’s

i love how its kinda canon that he likes snakes and scorpions ^_^

The Pirate King of the North

Main Themes: Villain Sanji, Alternate Universe, Zosan Ship

Sanji-centric AU from a reality where Reiju didn't have emotions.

Warning: Long post ahead and some One Piece spoilers. Contains strong language and explicit content.

Part 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 (Special) | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24

Young Zoro hates the fucker but those scars and piercings are doing a number to his soul.

Old Sanji's story goes like this:

He didn't experience compassion from anyone else aside from his mother, who--you know what happened.

Judge kept him locked away until he was 13. He had him released when he was deemed too broken to do anything, and he was apparently a waste of space. As far as the world was concerned, he was already dead. He gets left behind at some random pirate town in the North.

His swirly brows were recognized by the pirates who took him in--only for him to be enslaved because people would pay a lot to have their way with royalty.

He picked up some skills from the other slaves and became cunning af--because he had to be.

At 17 he started a revolt against the slaver pirates, effectively taking over as their new pirate captain.

He became the feared "Mr. Prince" and his words are as sharp as his bite.

He's underweight because he doesn't give two shits about good food.

"The All Blue? It's nothing but an old fishwive's tale," he says.

He used his cunning mind and new pirate crew to hunt down and kill his own father from the shadows.

He enslaved his own siblings and becomes the new ruler of Germa Kingdom. Over the years, he used them for warfare and expanded the territory of the North.

His heart is a bottomless pit for power and control.

He had a fling or two or several with is closely allied with Doflamingo because god damn they're both mad like that. The alliance eventually lead to direct connections with Celestial Dragons.

Sanji gains more power and becomes the notorious "Pirate King of the North"

Meanwhile at the other side of the world, Luffy didn't make it as far as he could have without a good cook.

Luffy would have recruited one from Baratie but the restaurant was absolutely destroyed before the smaller Straw Hat crew could make a difference. Some of the staff didn't make it.

Zoro left the crew when it fell apart at some point.

Due to Zoro's reputation and bounty that he had occurred during his limited time with Luffy, he was offered a position as a Warlord, ultimately taking over the late Jinbe's old role. He accepted and served for several years before he was assigned a job that he didn't know would be the most challenging one yet.

The Celestial Dragons didn't like the fact that Sanji had started to have more worldly control over their own, so Zoro was quietly assigned to hunt down the great Pirate King of the North. Zoro accepted because he felt that he needed more experience before he could take on Mihawk again.

Zoro quickly realised that this mission is not a walk in the park.

Sanji loves toying with the Demon Warlord so he insists on taking him on by himself.

It becomes an endless game of cat and mouse. Sometimes Sanji chases and sometimes he runs, sometimes he wins and sometimes he loses.

They're at each others' throats everywhere in the world. Any person, city or being of any kind that gets in the way usually gets torn apart in the chaos. The hunt goes on for a lifetime. They're currently in their 40's.

Zoro severs Sanji's left arm during one huge fight.

Because of this, Sanji relentlessly tries to get Zoro to marry him to use him in so many ways he can think of--both as an asset and under the sheets--oh the things that he wants the swordsman to do and beg for.

Sanji likes to refer to the tiniest scar on his lip as "Zoro's love bite"

He was about to get a nice fresh one on his chest when some fuckers teleported him away.

Hearing old Sanji's backstory was a bit much. It was young Zoro's turn to have a nosebleed that day.

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Oh yes I had fun drawing old silver fox, damaged Sanji. I wish I have the time to colour it up. I've also been very much into reading AU stories, especially soul brand ones. Keep them coming, you beautiful people.

Edit: Woo! I finally decided to make my own AO3 account. It's about time. Link here for the story: https://archiveofourown.org/works/60686077

Exile Arc but make it on Alternia

The Big Cool Rad collab I did with @technobaddie​ !!! 

For all you FILTHY HOMESTUCKS I see in my tags or might have just stuck around from when I did Hiveswap art~

We thought about how the hemospectrum would add a lot to the dynamics already in the DSMP, one bit in particular about how c!Dreeam’s obsession with c!Tommie would begin sometime during the early Disc War where he discovered that c!Tommie’s a mutant candy redblood, and later on come up during exile as a means of earning c!Tommie’s trust.

OK OK OK WAIT

ccquackity sent out a tweet that cquackity is just "chilling in las nevadas", implying that cquackity is the sole survivor of the dsmp finale , or at least for the people that were presently on the server

cwilbur went to utah and somehow managed to avoid all of that bullshit.

imagine. cwilbur goes to utah to heal but always feels like something is missing. empty. he checks his communicator every day for a message from tommy, from phil, from anyone. as time passes by he begins to give up. time must have passed on without him, they must have all healed and gone down their separate ways. he's happy for them, really; the gaping hole in his chest is inconsequential. meaningless. just like he was. the entire time. really, had he ever even mattered to any of them? moods swinging from depressed, to angry, to numb about the whole ordeal -he should really get medicated- he begins to wonder when things got so complicated. he missed home. he thought he'd be going home by returning to utah, but as time passed, he began to realize home wasn't a place. it had been people. and he- he had left them all to die. his home was tommy, and he'd abandoned him. the growing pit of guilt left him feeling heavy, filling his stomach and making it hard for him to eat most days. it was fine. he was fine! he was getting better. but then- the paranoia strikes up again, telling him that maybe it wasn't all fine, maybe tommy wasn't okay, he never should have left in the first place. after all, a mad man was on the loose! he could have hurt- could have killed- his little brother, and he never would have found out. it eventually becomes too much for him and, late at night, in a panic driven haze, he grabs a few of the things he'd managed to earn here in utah and goes back. his blood freezes. he stops, frozen in time, looking at what happened, feeling... nothing. or was it too much? he feels like a puppet who's strings had been cut, like he'd never really escaped from the narrative at all, like he was right back at the head of the story, witnessing himself in an out of body experience. the server was gone. and he'd never know what happened. he would never get closure. he falls to his knees and weeps.

then, you have cquackity. the sole survivor. cwilbur disappeared and everyone else- everyone else died and forgot him. he has nobody left, he's alone, with not even cfoolish there to help him now. the country he built for his fiancés is empty, as it always was, but now it's the most populated place on the server- it has him. the legacy he fought for, clung to with his broken, bloodied fingernails, is now witnessed by no one but him. he's numbed to it over the years; nobody is coming for him. why would they? even if they did remember- even if they did remember, he wasn't exactly the best person. why would anyone come back for him? he would be left to rot, in this man-made desert, in this city of smoke and mirrors that rose from gilded dreams of a man and would crumble with him. he was fine with it, he decided. there was no use crying about it to anybody, especially since there was nobody to cry to. he goes throughout the motions of life emptily, attempting to fill the silence of the city all by himself, trying to carry on tasks day to day as normal. he talks to himself, boisterous and loud like he did when times were... simpler, back when he had no scar on his face and when love came to him so easy. but there was nobody left to love, and nobody left to love him, and over the years the silence suffocated him. stifled him. he stops talking, and eventually, he forgets how to use his voice at all. he feels like a puppet who's strings have been cut, like it's not him living day to day, and he wonders if he had died years ago. if he had ever really been alive at all, and if so, when he'd forgotten how to live.

after cwilbur returns to the smp, and finds it gone, blown to smithareens (he would never know what happened) just like l'manberg. and really, wasn't that fitting? what goes around, comes around. it always ends with an explosion. always. he picks himself up after a while, beginning to wander around the perimeters of the explosion. he resists the urge to wander into the thick of the crater and begin picking through the wreckage, looking for corpses. he doesn't think he has it in him to handle if it was the face of anyone he cared about.

after what feels like days of ceaseless wandering- and maybe it was, god knows that cwilbur knows what its like to wander endlessly, it was just limbo, he had never really left, he was never really alive- he comes up upon a place he never thought he'd see again. and he laughs, maybe, shock and disbelief that turns to a sort of bitter anger. because of course, of course it was las nevadas, of course it was quackity. it was always quackity. quackity was the sun, in a way, a star with things always centering around him.

but if quackity was the sun, wilbur was a blackhole.

wilbur marches into las nevadas, head held high, faltering at the emptiness and state of disrepair. even if quackity was still here- and, wilbur realizes, fear panging his heart, that the idea of quackity being gone is so much worse than quackity having miraculously survived that- he hadn't been able to do everything himself.

cwilbur searches. by god, wilbur searches. he tears the city apart, brick by brick, looking for the man that had the answers. or not. wilbur honestly wasn't sure what he wanted with quackity- to fight him? he knew what had happened last time. but quackity was one of his biggest what-ifs, maybe in another life, another time, they could have been more.

but he might have been too late.

as wilbur was beginning to lose hope, beginning to consider collapsing to the ground and screaming his lungs out, the unthinkable happened.

he was going through one of the many casinos, checking in every room, no stone untouched, all nooks and crannies searched. he had just been finishing up, opening the door and stepping forward when he walked into something.

no. not something. someone

and god was it so fucking good to see quackity. wilbur. wilbur felt like he could breathe again, air filling his lungs. "quackity?" he asked, voice cracking. you're here. you're here. you're alive. i'm alive. i-

cquackity looked... confused. is this a trick? quackity thinks. am i hallucinating him again? this isn't funny. you're not funny, XD. but his voice had left him years ago, and he couldn't even tell the hallucination plaguing him to fuck off. figures. he scoffs and tries to shove past it, freezing when he realizes it is solid. no. can it be? but he could just be- imagining- is he dreaming?

wilbur grabs his wrists. "quackity?" he inquires again, voice fading off. that was one thing quackity had trouble believing. wilbur had looked so happy to see him- wilbur would never look that happy to see him. it just wasn't possible. "quackity, i'm talking to you." irritation shot through quackity. i can see that, asshole. god, he'd forgotten how fucking annoying wilbur was. whatever- whatever this was, it really wasn't messing around. "talk to me!" wilbur barked, shoving quackity into one of the nearby walls, pinning him. quackity was stunned, head hitting the wall behind him. that- nothing had ever done that. all his hallucinations over the years, they'd only been out of reach, whispers at the edges of his vision or they'd solely been there to mock him. and this felt mocking, god, it felt like life was spitting in his face, but it felt real. more real than anything had in years.

quackity shook his head, trembling. he couldn't. he opened his mouth and closed it, aware of how foolish he looked, but he hadn't needed to speak in a long time, and now, he couldn't remember how. distantly he was aware of a thumb brushing his face. "quackity, you're crying," wilbur's voice distantly reached him, and oh, oh. when had he started to do that? that didn't feel right. but he was, he was crying, and wilbur was alive, and god, he wasn't alone anymore.

distantly, he was aware of wilbur leading him to a chair, babbling on about something, the words not quite reaching his ears. but he relished in the sound of his voice, in his touch, god he missed being touched, and he slumped in the seat he was put in.

he was startled back to reality at harsh tapping on the table, flinching and blinking at a pen and paper that wilbur had gone and scrounged up. oh. smart. quackity wouldn't have thought of that, but to be fair, he was in shock. "can you speak?" wilbur asked. quackity shook his head. "right, then, uhm, use this paper to communicate."

quackity nodded slowly, not taking his eyes off wilbur as he reached forward tentatively, afraid wilbur would dissipate like smoke, and he'd be left with nothing. alone. again. but nothing happened, and he had the pen, and paper. he stared down at it numbly, not sure what to write. "what, can't remember how to write?" wilbur teased. "little baby can't pick up a pen? come on, q, you're not a kindergartener."

quackity scowled. he changed his mind. he'd rather be alone. he hated wilbur, the stupid asshole. hands shaking, he wrote a shaky: fuck you. and then, as an addendum: hi :]

wilbur grinned, a genuine smile spreading across the man's face. "oh, ever so eloquent. hello to you too, big q."

quackity smiled back.

they'd be okay.

SO this is long over due but i’ve been neglecting my tumblr and only just got to this now. My comic is out of order. I know this, it has been for forever, the links are dead in each desc- and fixing them is a pain in the butt. So it’s time for the easy fix!! a big ol fat post subjecting me to gross old art! I bleed for you people, really.

On the topic of the comic I wanted to just quickly cram in a few bits of trivia. It’s deffs from my time being super aggressively obsessed with rapr but shipping wasn’t meant to be a part of it; implied at most, but you’d have to squint. These dumb fucks just like hanging out. No brotherly love shit or anything like that, just two terrible morons. It isn’t a family deal- Zim’s related in the sense all irkens are related, they’re all from the one big mixing pot of Irken DNA goo, he just got a heavy serving of tall genes (someone knocked the jar in, they have been fired). I’ve forgotten a lot of the premise for the comic now, but zims extreme lack-of-height raises red flags for everyone- especially pur, who is the asshole here, he’s adamant that zim is a dud who just slipped through the cracks and tries to drop him in front of a lot of hungry monsters. Easy snack, and no more headache for purps. The biggest subscriber to this idea is Zim himself, secretly though- he’s trying his best to act like a big tall boi to compensate for the fact he isn’t, with secret worries of being a defect turned instead into shooting giant lasers at planets (and angering the tallest caus that planet was on their list of 34,317 favourite snack bars).

I’ve added the next page WIP that I dropped halfway through. I burned myself out on some bgs and posted them just as the IZ fandom was waning and got sad :c 

so here’s the comic as it stands so far, in full, in one post!

Keep reading

some of my favorite parts from quackity’s finale stream!

god created man to be penetrated

it's a birthday present for my friend. Happy birthday, my dear!