Can you tell us more about Debbie??? Because she is my favorite character!!! :D
DEBBIE!! Absolutely >:3
Debbie is my tiny energetic ball of sass, she's loud she's proud and she's so much more fearless than a lot of people give her credit for. People, in the universe I mean.
She's the youngest at 17 coming on 18, and the shortest, and she's often perceived as immature and overly unrealistic, but only because she's so straightforward and blunt about her thoughts and opinions. She does not wait to blurt out her own plan or her own suspicions, but rarely do a lot of people take her seriously. She often needs Vilmr as a back up for support to her word. So, like, she tends to be pretty fussy as a result of not being respected by the group at large.
In her own friend circle she is very used to being the leading voice of things-- her bestie Samantha is quiet, easygoing and very passive, her close second Vilmr is serious and a bit blunt himself, but he doesn't like to be put in the spotlight, and Michael is just too nice to do anything but go along with whatever Debbie decides the group is doing on any given day.
But back to the rest of the group, she is no longer that leaderly voice, so she ends up amplifies herself so much more. Jumps in the face of danger way more than she ought to, to prove that she's just as tough and serious as everyone else. Many think this is reckless, but Vilmr is a continuing source of support towards her fearlessness.
Her and Vilmr's dynamic is a mimic of Chickenstab and Rede. She's short and loud and seems to have endless energy, and she tugs around her blind green friend everywhere she goes. They're a package deal just like Cstab and Rede too. You will almost always find Vilmr by Debbie's side.
So when she is kept away from Vilmr, her true colors tend to bleed through a little more. She can get argumentative if she feels like she's not getting the respect she tries hard to earn, and without a second voice to help carry her opinions she tends to act overall more stubborn and disagreeable. She can get extremely hotheaded, in some cases.
BUT! When all is well, she tends to be the source of motivation for a lot of the team. Her neverending enthusiasm for just doing things really helps get people in the mood of... yknow. Actually doing things. Even if she jumps headfirst into danger to prove herself, it's that push to action (to save her scrawny ass) that often gets everyone moving.
Not to mention, she's also a source of some pretty decent wisdom. She tends to see things through a different lense than most, she likes to make big assumptions and step outside the basics. While she doesn't always get it right, be it from lack of experience or otherwise, when she does drop some heavy wisdom it's often something not even the brightest of minds have considered yet.
Again though, it's hard for people to take her word seriously because of how she presents herself. However, she will never stop being her despite how often she faces this disrespect. She is a source of inspiration (which she doesn't realise, but if she ever did she'd be so hype) because of how true she remains to herself. She WILL wear her dragon costume on this serious world-saving journey, she WILL make dragon jokes every step of the way, and thats HER and there's NOTHING you can do to stop it.
She would be ecstatic to know that she's somebody's favorite 0u0!
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oooh, for the drabble prompts may I request Books or Night? with whatever characters speak to you for this one <3 thank you!!
Ahh thank you pal! :D I went with Books for Mahiru and Mikoto (I mean it takes place at night but idk if that counts lol)
From this ask game
Mahiru read a lot of books. She read a lot at her university. She read a lot on her own time. She could recall endless romance novels in which the knight in shining armor came to rescue his lover from her dark, musty dungeon cell. The thing was, she couldn't think of a single one in which the fair maiden had killed him before he got the chance.
She huddled in the back of her cell. Her headache had been a permanent one the last few days; Shidou wasn't sure when he'd have more painkillers for her. She didn't mind. It wasn't her head that hurt the most.
Hands clawed at her chest. She'd read so much at her university, and even the most unhappy endings weren't quite like this. There was always a message, a meaning to it all. Her thoughts returned to the classroom, when she drew out little charts and diagrams plotting out books. There always came a turning point. There always came a moment where everything became clear, even if it didn't improve. So, where was hers? When would this all make sense?
In the middle of her desperate search for a pattern amid everything that had happened to her -- everything that had happened because of her -- a knock echoed off her cell door.
"Come in..."
She was surprised when Mikoto swung it open. He gave her a slightly awkward, "hey."
Mahiru flinched as he tossed something her way. She barely caught an apple in her hands.
"You didn't show for dinner."
"T-thank you." She was slowly growing accustom to the new Mikoto that had started appearing around the prison. Now that had been a story-worthy twist. "Sorry to make you worry. My head was hurting, I just wanted to rest in here."
He nodded. "Yeah, I get that."
Whether it was the brief kinship she felt remembering how he'd been complaining of constant headaches, or the fluttering in her chest from the thoughtful gift he'd brought after noticing her absence, or even just a lapse in judgement due to her injured brain, she blurted, "can I ask you something?"
"Hm? Shoot."
She hoped what she was about to say wasn't ridiculous to him. She looked down at the apple.
"I... keep thinking of my favorite books. In all of them, the hero comes in to save the day just in time. But my hero... he... I mean, I..." She didn't need to explain it to him. Her smile filled with sorrow. "Between that and what happened with Kotoko... I'm realizing that no one is coming to save me. You and Amane, you don't seem as worried about it. How do you still have hope that someone's going to help?"
After an agonizing moment in which she was sure he was going to laugh, Mikoto crossed the room to her. He knelt on her bed. His expression radiated an intensity she wasn't used to seeing on him. He took her by the shoulders. His grip wasn't painful, but it was unshakable. His voice, too, came out commanding, and not cruel.
"Listen to me. No one's coming for you. You're right. No one else is going to help you get out of here. That's why you need to do it. I know it's not easy, but you can't just roll over and let this place walk all over you. The only one who will always be there to save you, is you. You need to be the hero, okay?"
She stared at him with round eyes. It wasn't the answer she'd been expecting. Or maybe, it wasn't the answer she'd wanted. She spoke with instinctual protests.
"But, but --! I'm not strong, or smart like the others. What can I even do for myself?"
Mikoto held her gaze, and she began to understand. "It's just like the stories. You do anything you can. You do everything you can."
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prompts👀
okay so u have choices for formats:
luffy + stars; robin + shining; vivi + hope
"who told you about that?"; "i have never heard anything that STUPID before."; "watch out."
the strawhats + belief; vivi&nami + dreams; luffy&zoro + choices
if u get ideas that don't go along with the people/prompt i paired together don't feel beholden to these, i'm just excited to see what you create :)))
With the dark sea pooling beneath a darker, cloudless sky, the stars spill out across the waves, glittering at their peaks as they crest and shimmering in their wake. The moon, big and bright, casts a brilliant, dazzling light—too bright for this time of night, and Robin watches its reflection curve and glint in a million smaller ones, and, for a moment, she considers pitching herself over the railing to spill into the expanse of the ink-dark ocean only to be poured into the sky as both meet at the horizon.
The corner of her lip quirks in amusement, and she slowly turns her gaze from where the sky stitches itself into the sea at the patter of sandals against the deck. They’re followed by the stretch and creak of rubber, and Robin watches fingers close over the lip of the crow’s nest before the captain comes sprawling over the edge in an inelegant heap of limbs and a grin that split across his face the second they made eye contact.
Monkey D. Luffy remains a curiosity to her—for a multitude of reasons, not the least of which being why he plucked her from the sands and refused her her wish, or how the Will of D. pertains to him. Straw Hat Luffy is an oddity, to say the least, but Robin has yet to find a mystery she doesn’t enjoy puzzling out.
“Hey Robin!” he says, voice too loud for how calm the night is, sprawled on his back and taking up the majority of the crow’s nest she hasn’t tucked herself into. He keeps his hand pressed to the top of his heat, strap digging into his chin and straw bending against the worn wood. “There you are.”
“Here I am, Captain,” she says, because she can’t quite find it in her to call him by his name, to breach that one wall that still keeps a division between them, even if she did demand a place in his crew. She draws her blanket tighter around her shoulders. “You’re up late—or early, I suppose. I didn’t think you were going to relieve me from watch for another hour.”
Even that had been a point of contention—a tension in the air as Robin found her seat beside the navigator and her offer of taking first watch had been met with hesitation and an even more hesitant suggestion that perhaps she wouldn’t mind a partner the first time around, just to show her the ropes. That debate had been cut short by Luffy, sloppily spearing roasted potatoes with his fork and declaring that Robin was crew, and that had been that. Far be it for her to question the captain’s orders, she surmised, though she hadn’t offered him much then beyond a nod.
His lips twist into a comical frown as he rights himself with a shrug. “Couldn’t sleep. Got bored, and Usopp snores kinda loud.” His eyes widen, shining in the moonlight, and the sight takes her aback when he twists to face her. “Have you seen anything cool? You’re supposed to wake me up if you do.”
She huffs a laugh. “My apologies, but there’s nothing of much note beyond the stars and moon, Captain.”
“Oh,” he murmurs, deflating some. He clicks his tongue before he reclines against the side of the crow’s nest, feet kicked up and crossed on the edge as he folds his hands behind his head. “That’s still cool though. The moon looks so big!”
When it becomes clear he has no plans on leaving anytime soon, Robin finds herself pulled to fill in the silence, as companionable as it is.
“Did you know the reflection of the moon on the water is called a moonwake?” she offers, and his gaze slides from a cluster of stars high—so, so very high—above them to her. Luffy makes a soft sound in the back of his throat, but she can’t quite tell if he finds the fact interesting or is simply acknowledging her.
His gaze is bright and the breeze picks up, blowing his bangs into his eyes, and for a moment he looks like the child he is as opposed to the power that brought Baroque Works to its knees, toppling a mighty War Lord in the process. Luffy blinks back at her and she can feel a familiar tension coiling in her gut—the calm before the storm and unease she has never been able to fully shake for the last two decades.
Saul’s words echo in her ears, but so do harsh whispers, as do Crocodile’s gruff reminders of furthering their own agendas. Their allegiance was built on an exchange of services: shelter and fulfilled orders, but there was no loyalty and only a thin veil of trust that neither wasted any time in shattering in the catacombs of the Grave of Kings.
As such, there is still a part of her—a part she is afraid will never be stifled, no matter Saul’s request, that awaits for the moment the other shoe drops. Luffy had wasted no time in welcoming her to the crew, showing her around the Going Merry in a rushed tour, but the others—the cook notwithstanding—had not shared the same sentiment. As far as she knows—she hopes—they do not know her beyond Miss All Sunday, beyond a brief meeting and warning upon their ship outside of Whiskey Peak, beyond her partnership with Crocodile.
(And the Marines—and that officer—)
Luffy blinks back at her and yawns.
She rubs at the bandaged scar blossoming in the middle of her chest, where her breath still catches and the ship’s adorable doctor puffs up and asks if she needs any more care, as if his tiny legs don’t tremble at the inquiry.
“Does it hurt?” he asks, brow knit. He looks like he’s about to go fetch said doctor.
“No,” she says, because it’s an ache, but not quite a pain. Betrayal is a different sort of sting—one that’s numbing more so than anything after twenty years. She casts a glance at his vest, where the top button is barely hanging on by the remnants of a thread. There are other stains and patches—evidence of care, even if it was messy. “Does yours?”
“Nah. ’s not so bad.” He sniffs, returning to his quiet stargazing, one foot bobbing. “Man, being stuck in that sand pit woulda been so bad.”
“Being swallowed up by the sand would have been worse?” she asks, brow knit. Having been impaled herself—to which Luffy had said they matched, a joke that had fallen flat and drawn ire from the rest of his crew—she can’t quite say she favors the cold, dark, loneliness of the sand.
“Yeah, probably,” he says, and it’s then that she realizes it’s the closest to a thanks she’ll ever get—not that she would expect nor ask for it, and she can only stare at him as he watches the stars and picks at his nose.
“How interesting.”
He’s peculiar, she decides, fascinating in a way that’s more comforting than anything else. How fitting, she thinks too, that there’s so little they know about one another, and how much he’ll never ask her for.
In the short time they’ve known each other, where she gets to be Robin, the Straw Hats’ stow away who declared herself their new crew mate because their captain wouldn’t let her die, he has never asked anything of her past. Even now, sitting two feet from him with a chasm between them, Robin is unsure of whether it is ignorance or indifference.
Once more the silence is amiable, and she rests her chin on her palm, propping her elbow up on her bent knee. Together they watch the stars, the night accented by the Jolly Roger flapping in the breeze and the sounds and scents of the sea. She closes her eyes against the salty air brushing against her cheeks, and for that moment Nico Robin is not in hiding, is not glancing over her shoulder or pinned beneath the watchful gaze of one of the Seven War Lords of the Sea.
For a moment Nico Robin is standing out in the middle of the open sea, the sails full and glimmers of hope and freedom winking out from the millions of tiny stars gathering at the horizon and the gentle lull of the waves, a brilliant light bursting against the backs of her eyelids.
For a moment, Nico Robin is a Straw Hat, and she allows a small smile at the thought.
“I wonder how Vivi’s doing,” Luffy says, apropos of nothing, and she opens her eyes to find him watching the moon above. “You know her, don’t you?”
“I do know the princess,” she says, finding herself wanting to cling to the thought before it dissipates. Just for a moment, in the middle of the night, in the middle of the sea, she will let herself entertain a feeling, silly idea. Her role in this crew is still too fresh—still too new, and she will grant them time and their careful assessments.
He nods, seemingly making his mind up over something. “I think you two would be good friends.”
“Do you?” she muses. “I’m afraid we’ve only known one another as Miss Wednesday and Miss All Sunday, and neither leave much room for forging friendships.”
He sucks in a breath, eyes wide and jaw dropping. “Do you still have that hat?”
Her brow furrows at the sudden topic change. “What?”
“That white hat you had.” He rolls his head, dropping one hand to gesture to the brim of his own. His dark eyes are wide enough she finds she can’t look anywhere else, and points at his head. “Do you still have it?”
“I do,” she says, fingers curling into her cheek. At the moment it sits in the girls’ cabin with the rest of her meagre possessions she was able to tuck away into the bilge after the cook had finished reviewing his stock prior to leaving Alabasta. (Upon loaning a few articles—much like the sweater she’s found herself in—the navigator had insisted upon a shopping expedition the next time they made port, so Robin is inclined to believe at least three of the six have warmed to her some.) “It’s actually my favorite one.”
Luffy laughs, all teeth and a sound that’s so bright that for a split second it’s hard to associate him with the man who forced her to her feet and out of the sand, telling her it was up to her to figure out what happened next. (And doesn’t that sound familiar, though when it comes from Luffy it carries a different weight—lacks a threat.)
“That’s awesome! You should wear it more! It’s a really cool hat.”
Robin’s smile grows, her teeth digging into her lower lip. “Perhaps I should. We might match.”
His laugh dies into a snicker. He folds his hands over his stomach.
“You can go to bed if you want, Robin. I’ll take over the rest of watch.”
If there is anything she has learned about Monkey D. Luffy over the course of knowing him—really knowing him, beyond the opposing sides they stood on not even a week prior—is that if he’s made up his mind, there’s little use in arguing with him. So rather than relent, or rather than tell him no, she said she would go on watch, so she’s taking her watch, she watches him in silence. In her study—like in most moment—he looks unfazed, eyes occasionally darting from one cluster of stars to the next, and in a few hours’ time they will all slowly wink out of existence as the sun breaks over the horizon, and it will be like they were never there at all.
“Captain,” she says, and then, when he looks her way with a confused glint to his eye, “Luffy. If you don’t mind, I think I’d like to stay up a little longer.”
Luffy hums and sits up. When he adjusts the brim of his straw hat there are a multitude of interactions she sees but he likely doesn’t. Thank you for pulling me out of the sand, he does not say. Thank you for not letting me die, she does not say either, though she can’t say for certain she’s thankful for that just yet. I’ve lost my will to live and you have to take responsibility for that she’d told him, and Luffy had nodded and said that made sense, and then immediately turned to ask the cook if dinner was ready soon and has not mentioned it again.
His expression shifts from perplexed to amused. “Robin,” he says, and she notices he says her name quite a bit, though it’s nice to hear it without revulsion—without the underlying tones that come with the promise of profit. He beams, his face drawn into a wide grin, one that’s more enthralling than the stars above that he could hardly tear his gaze from only a few minutes prior. “You can do whatever you want!”
Robin laughs, and he laughs with her, loud and bright, and big enough to swallow up the moon.
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