#rob lucci awakened

[njere]

I feel like Kaku occasionally babysits Hattori while Lucci runs off to throw hands with his next target

[pippin-pippout]

Lucci, after goading Luffy into Gear 5: This is gonna be fun.

Lucci, immediately: *gets punched across the arena*

[flattery-suplex]

Okay it's official; the anime has turned Egghead S tier in my mind

Like I already liked it if only for all the lore drops, but I wasn't too sure about the fast pacing. It seemed to be losing some of the detail that makes One Piece so great for me. I know a lot of people don't like how long Oda can take to get his arcs moving but it leaves room for more depth and explanation and Egghead has seemed a bit too fast paced for me.

But damn if episode 1100 isn't peak One Piece. It's also doing a damn good job of reminding people just how strong Lucci is. Maybe people can finally shut up about the Zoro vs Lucci fight lol

[lvmimis]

mimi what made you give one piece a chance on that bright, beautiful, random day in october? ✨

tbh i think for months i was trying to figure out what to watch next and one piece hype is always so strong it actually killed me cnfnfmfmf like i was always like what has you guys Preaching like this and here we are

[umbrace-rambles]

It's sooo interesting to me how you can see the SECOND Lucci stops "being himself" and goes haywire by the blank eyes every single time. I wonder if it's him losing control, or letting go and telling the leopard to take the wheel lol. My man DOES go feral mode, which he has never done when in control before

That is very much the leopard

[opbackgrounds]

It doesn't get explained at all until Egghead, and only in passing from Vegapunk, but the fate of Awakened Zoan users is horrible. They push their powers to their utmost extreme, but if their concentration slips, their minds is utterly consumed by their animal instincts and they just, cease being a person. And then they are basically sentenced to being these glorified attack dogs/dungeon beasts for the rest of their lives in the world's worst hell-hole. They don't even get proper names, just a generic title. It's so dang dark.

Except for Rob Lucci. I bet he would love a place where he can kill or savage whatever he wants.

yeah, and it makes me wonder when pressed to extremes if something wild and wacky could happen with Gear 5. It also makes Monster Chopper at Enies Lobby retroactively that much scarier. He was that close to ending up like the Minotaur and the rest.

What can I say, zoans are weird. Chopper mentioned when Lucci was introduced that people with carnivorous fruits are more bloodthirsty, so it’s entirely possible that Lucci’s personality is actually influenced by his DF. The fact that zoans have a spirit of their own that can be acted upon, like with Tama, is one of the most interesting things about them, and likely the reason the only inanimate objects that have fruits were given zoans. There’s a consciousness in there that we don’t see with logias or paramecias that I feel is tied in with the larger myth arc of the origins of devil fruits.

[sunandflame]

Marked by Hunger

They sent a vampire to find the threat—Rob Lucci, cold-blooded and immortal—but the moment he scented your magic on the wind, he knew the real danger wasn’t what you were. It was what you awakened in him.

Warnings: nsfw, smut, vampirism & blood drinking, supernatural themes

Word Count: 3157

Pairing: Vampire!Rob Lucci x Witch!Reader

crossposted on AO3

The World Government didn’t know what the anomaly was.

They only knew something powerful and supernatural had quietly rooted itself on this quiet coastal island—something not touched by Devil Fruits or bloodlines. Something unregistered. That was enough for Cipher Pol to act. 

And that meant sending him.

Rob Lucci arrived at the edges of the island without a ripple. No ship. No entourage. Just the black of his coat and the gleam of his boots slipping through the fog and rocky shore like a shadow that didn’t belong.

His orders: observe. Identify. Do not engage until necessary.

But by the first sunset, he knew. It was you.

Not the busybody mayor or the tavern owner with a bad gambling habit. Not the fisherman who vanished during full moons or the children who whispered about sea spirits. No, none of them.

It was the quiet woman who lived on the cliff just beyond the pine grove. The one whose aura left a metallic taste in his mouth. Who moved like she belonged to the island—but didn’t belong to this world.

You.

He watched from rooftops. From mist. From between the trees. For three days. 

And you knew.

Of course you did.

Your kind always did.

But you didn’t acknowledge him. You continued to sweep your stone doorstep in the mornings, hang herbs upside-down to dry, greet the children who passed by with softened smiles. But your wards—those invisible threads of power woven like spider silk around your home—had changed.

Stronger now. Sharper. Laced with something older than spoken language. 

You weren’t running. But you were ready.

On the fourth day, the tension snapped.

You returned from the village with your basket full of dried rice and tinctures. The mist clung to your sleeves as you stepped through your gate and closed it behind you.

You didn’t sense him outside. You sensed him inside.

The candlelight hadn’t changed, nor had the silence of your little home. But he was there, near your hearth, his coat still damp from the sea air, his eyes cutting through the dim like moonlight on obsidian.

Rob Lucci. The predator who had been watching you.

"You're not hiding very well," he said calmly, like it wasn’t a violation to be inside your sanctuary, your place of power. "Or maybe you wanted to be found."

You didn’t answer right away. You set the basket down gently, letting your fingers brush over the hidden sigil beneath the counter. One word would ignite the entire house in defensive fury.

But you didn’t speak it. 

Because he wasn’t attacking.

Not yet.

You lifted your chin instead, voice steady. “If I was hiding, you wouldn’t have found me.”

A flicker crossed his expression. Not quite amusement. Not surprise. Something colder. More curious.

“You smell wrong,” he said. “Not human. Not prey.”

The words crawled across your skin. He took a step forward—not aggressive, not urgent. Just inevitable.

His presence filled the room, cold and silent like an open grave. And beneath it, you felt something else: hunger. Wound tightly. Restrained perfectly.

You didn’t move from the doorway. The air between you was thick with your power—your unseen magic coiling defensively, reacting to every slight shift of his body. The runes carved beneath the floorboards trembled with readiness.

And yet… you hadn’t spoken the trigger.

Because he hadn’t crossed your line. Not yet.

“You’ve been watching me,” you said, tone even, eyes narrowing slightly. “From the rooftops. From the trees. I thought I imagined it at first. Then I started dreaming of green eyes in the dark.”

“I wasn’t hiding.”

“No,” you agreed. “You never do, apparently . That’s what makes it worse.”

A flicker passed through his gaze then, like a single crack in ice. He studied you closely. Not just your body—though his eyes did drift, slowly, deliberately—but the air around you. The faint aura that shimmered around your skin like mist. Magic. Not learned—inherited. Old.

“…Witch,” he said at last. Not a question.

You gave a soft, sharp smile. “Vampire.”

That word hung heavy between you.

Enemy.

Natural predator and natural weapon. You could feel the conflict ripple through the room like tension before a storm. His instincts told him to drain you dry. Yours told you to burn him where he stood. Centuries of blood-soaked history stood between your kinds.

But neither of you moved.

Lucci’s head tilted slightly, as if studying something behind your eyes.

“I’ve never tasted anything like you,” he murmured.

“You haven’t tasted me at all,” you shot back.

He smiled—not with his lips, but with his eyes, glinting with cold amusement.

“Not yet.”

And there it was—the crack in the standoff. Subtle. Intimate. Dangerous. You took a step forward, slowly, watching how his body tensed in response. Not fear. Restraint. Every part of him screamed predator, but he didn’t lunge. Didn’t strike.

You stopped just outside of arm’s reach, letting your voice drop lower. “Is that what they sent you for? To taste me? Or are you just disobeying your orders?”

“They sent me to observe,” he said. “To identify the threat.”

“Do you see one?”

“Yes,” he said. Then his eyes dropped—to your throat, to your chest, to your hands. “But I don’t know if it’s you or what’s behind your eyes.”

You let your magic flicker across your skin—like static, like warning. “I wonder the same about you.”

For a heartbeat, silence. Everything stilled. Then he stepped forward—and you didn’t move back. He stopped just close enough that you could feel the cold radiating from his body. Not the chill of night—but something deeper. Deathless. His voice came low, almost reverent. 

“I should kill you.”

“I should destroy you,” you answered.

Another beat. Your breaths mingled.

“But you won’t,” you whispered.

“No,” he said, his voice gravel with hunger and confusion, “I won’t.”

His hand lifted—slowly, cautiously. Like even he didn’t know what he was doing. His fingers hovered near your jaw, trembling with restraint.

“Why do you smell like ruin?” he asked, his tone more breath than sound. “Why do I want to touch you when everything in me says I shouldn’t?”

You tilted your head toward his hand. Just enough.

“Because I’m not prey as you said,” you said. “And you’re not in control anymore.”

Something in him shuddered. And that was the moment. The shift. The tiny fracture in centuries of instinct.

Your standoff wasn’t ending.

It was evolving.

You stood toe-to-toe now, every breath charged with invisible force. Your magic curled defensively around your skin, sensing the proximity of a being designed to kill you. His body radiated cold—not the chill of air, but of eternity. Still. Bound. Starved.

And yet he hadn’t moved away.

Lucci's hand hovered just beside your cheek, trembling not from fear, but from control burning at its edge.

You watched his jaw shift—tight with something unspoken. Hunger. Restraint. Curiosity.

His fingers finally brushed your skin.

And your magic reacted.

A spark leapt between you—not violent, not angry. It felt like a memory. Like something ancient waking up. His breath hitched the second it touched him, like it struck something inside him long dormant. A fragment of warmth buried beneath his icy resolve.

“You’re alive,” he muttered, like it was an accusation.

You leaned into his palm. Slowly. Willfully. “And you’ve forgotten what that means.”

That crack—deep and dangerous—split wider inside him. You could see it. Feel it. Something beneath his surface rippled. He moved closer. No longer hovering, but fully invading your space.

Then his head dipped toward your throat, nose brushing your skin, breath dragging across your pulse point. His fangs didn’t bare yet—but the promise of them burned like a ghost.

You didn’t stop him.

You let him smell you.

Let him feel the hum of your blood, the pull of your magic that warned him: you were not prey. You were temptation. Poison in a golden goblet. The thing that should kill him if he tasted it—but part of him wanted to die that way.

“You shouldn’t let me this close,” he said, voice muffled against your throat.

You pressed a hand to his chest. Felt how still he was beneath the layers of black—how silent that cursed heart was.

“I’m not letting you,” you whispered. “I’m inviting you.”

And that was what shattered him. His mouth was at your throat in the next instant—not biting, not breaking—but pressing. Reverent. Testing.

You arched into him on instinct, magic flaring wild and soft at once. It wrapped around him like smoke, tasting him in return.

He stiffened, gasping against your neck as your power met his curse—and instead of repelling each other, something recognized the other. 

His arms went around you without thought. Tight. Possessive.

Still he didn’t bite. But his mouth moved—sliding to your collarbone, then lower, tracing the line of your skin like it was sacred ground he didn’t understand how to walk on.

“I should destroy you,” he repeated again—but this time, it sounded broken. Pleading.

You threaded your fingers into his hair, tipping his face down, guiding him where you wanted. Where you burned.

“Then ruin me,” you breathed, “or let me ruin you.”

And when he dropped to his knees, slow and deliberate, lips grazing the soft inside of your thigh, it wasn’t dominance or hunger.

It was worship when his breath dragged slow over the soft skin of your inner thigh, lips barely grazing—never quite touching—until you trembled under his mouth. His hands cupped the backs of your legs, spreading you wider, guiding your balance as he knelt beneath you like you were an altar and offering all at once.

You felt it in the way he breathed you in—like incense curling through his senses. Not prey. Not conquest. Obsession.

And when his mouth finally met the heat of you, it was slow. Deliberate. Reverent.

His tongue parted you like a prayer, languid and unhurried, tasting every inch with a patience that almost broke you. He didn’t just eat—he worshipped. He wanted your unraveling. Wanted to hear it in your breath, feel it in the way your thighs shook around his head.

And gods, you gave it.

Your hand gripped the edge of the table behind you for balance, the other tangled in his hair, pulling, grounding yourself in the wet, relentless strokes of his mouth.

You moaned—soft at first, then louder, desperate—as his tongue pressed deeper, his hands tightening on your thighs to hold you in place while he devoured you like something sacred. The faintest rumble left his throat, vibrating against your core, and you felt the tension building—hot and terrible and close.

And still he didn’t stop.

He circled you with a precision that had nothing to do with romance and everything to do with control. He wanted your climax. Demanded it. Waited for the moment your voice cracked, and your hips bucked, and your body shook from the inside out.

And when it hit—when you shattered on his tongue—it felt like magic exploded behind your ribs.

Your power reacted, flaring outward in a shimmer of invisible energy. But he didn’t flinch. He held on through the storm.

And then—he bit.

Not at your throat.

At your thigh.

Right next to your core, still wet and sensitive from his mouth.

You gasped, your fingers clenching in his hair, as his fangs slid into your skin like molten ice—cold and burning all at once. The blood pull was slow, sensual, nothing like the stories told of vampires feeding in rage or frenzy.

No—this was devotion. This was him crossing every line he was forbidden to cross.

He drank like it was personal.

Like it meant something.

And when he pulled back, mouth stained dark, lips still brushing the wound he left, his eyes met yours—burning, glazed with something terrifyingly human beneath the hunger.

“Tell them,” he said low, voice wrecked, “that I failed my mission.”

You reached for him then—pulled him up, dragged his body against yours until he was standing between your legs again, breath mingling, blood and magic and something new pulsing between your chests.

“Good,” you whispered. “Let them come. I’ll destroy every one of them.”

He didn’t kiss you yet. He hovered—a breath away, lips stained red, breath shaking. 

“I’m already ruined,” he confessed. “And I haven’t even touched you properly.”

You smiled, dangerous and tender all at once. 

“Then don’t stop.”

He lifted you as though your weight meant nothing—effortless, fluid—and laid you back onto the table, his body folding over yours with quiet, devastating strength. The shadows in the room thickened, curling at the edges like they knew what was coming.

Lucci braced a hand beside your head, the other trailing down your thigh—over the bite mark still faintly throbbing. He touched it with reverence, the faintest brush of his thumb smearing your blood across your skin before he brought it to his lips and sucked.

It was obscene.

Intimate.

Possessive.

You watched him, chest rising fast as heat rolled off him in waves now. Not body heat—he didn’t have that. Desire. That was the temperature he burned with. For you.

“You’re still wet,” he murmured, voice rasping low like he was confessing a sin. “Even after the bite.”

You spread your legs wider, offering yourself without shame, your pulse thundering as your magic curled around your skin in a trembling glow. “I’m not afraid of you.”

He laughed once—low and dangerous—and leaned in until his hips were pressed between your thighs, the hard line of him pushing firm and heavy against your slick heat.

“You should be.”

And then he pushed inside.

Not cruel. Not hurried. He sank in slow—deep—and complete. Filling you with unbearable precision, like he’d been designed for it. You gasped—hand flying to his shoulder, nails digging into muscle, your body arching as he bottomed out inside you with a groan that sounded like it had been torn from the depths of him.

He didn’t move at first.

He just stayed—buried in you—his head bowed at the crook of your neck as if savoring the moment he lost whatever control he had left.

“You’re hot,” he breathed, voice shaking. “So alive.”

You tightened around him and he swore under his breath, fangs grazing your skin again. A threat. A promise. Then he moved.

Long, deep thrusts that stole your breath and gave you back something else entirely—something primal and raw and addictive. He didn’t fuck like a man. He moved like a beast in human skin—measured, merciless, with the kind of restraint that could shatter at any second.

You moaned, legs wrapping around his hips as you pulled him closer—deeper—greedy for more.

Every thrust dragged over that perfect, devastating place inside you, and your magic flared each time your body shivered around him. He could feel it—your power blooming in tandem with your desire—and it fed him.

Not with blood.

With something else.

“You’re not human,” he growled against your mouth, biting the words between kisses. “You taste like fate.”

You kissed him back hard, pulling at his hair, tasting blood and hunger and heat all at once. “Then take it. Take all of it.”

He slammed into you, hand slipping beneath your back to arch you closer as his pace turned brutal, intoxicating. You matched him—moan for groan, pulse for pulse—until the tension snapped tight inside you again.

“I’m—” you gasped, nails clawing his back.

He bit your shoulder—not to feed, just to mark—and you broke.

You shattered beneath him a second time, your cry muffled by his mouth, your walls fluttering around him in wild aftershocks that made him hiss through his teeth.

And then he came.

With a low, guttural sound, he buried himself fully—his release flooding into you, cold and molten at once, like the very essence of contradiction: predator and lover, curse and salvation.

You lay tangled together in the aftermath—his body draped over yours, lips still at your skin, as if tasting was no longer enough. He had to stay close. Had to feel your pulse.

It was the only warmth he’d touched in decades.

And now he couldn’t let it go.

The silence after was not peace.

It was awareness.

Of your body trembling beneath his. Of his cool breath still ghosting over your throat. Of the pulse between your thighs, still echoing the rhythm he’d carved into you.

Lucci didn’t move. His weight stayed pressed into yours, not crushing—grounding. Like he didn’t trust the world outside your skin. Like if he let go, it might vanish.

You brushed your fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck, careful. “Is this the part where you kill me?”

His shoulders rose with a breath that wasn’t quite a laugh. “I was sent here to find the anomaly.”

“And you did.”

“I did.”

The glow of your magic flickered faintly around you both, protective even now, as if some ancient part of you still didn't know what to make of this—him. He was predator. You were prey. That was the old order.

But he hadn’t fed from you in full. He hadn’t hurt you.

He had knelt.

Lucci finally lifted himself, just enough to look down at you—hair loose, mouth swollen from kisses, gold eyes unreadable.

“You’re not what they think you are,” he said.

“And you’re not what I feared,” you whispered back.

Another pause. Tighter now. Like the air itself held its breath.

“You’ll report me,” you said. “Won’t you?”

His hand ghosted your thigh, near the place he’d fed, fingers dragging slow over the fading bite. You could feel his hesitation like a second heartbeat.

“No,” he said.

That one word felt like a stone dropped into still water—ripples spreading across something deeper than either of you could name.

“You’re going to lie to them.”

“I’ll give them nothing,” he said. “Not yet.”

You sat up slowly, the ache of what you’d shared still blooming in your limbs, your magic still clinging to his skin like it didn’t want to let go.

“Why?” you asked softly.

He didn’t answer. 

Instead, Lucci leaned down and kissed you again—not with hunger this time, but with something slower. Like he was memorizing you. A taste. A memory. A decision.

When he finally pulled away, his voice was gravel.

“This doesn’t end here.”

You nodded, your throat tight.

“No. It doesn’t.”

He stood. Gathered the coat he’d dropped. No need to dress quickly—he was still a ghost here, still unseen by the world. But now, you saw him. And he’d let you.

Lucci paused in your doorway, silhouetted in the moonlight like a warning and a promise.

“I’ll be back,” he said. “And next time… I won’t pretend to be observing.”

And then he was gone—vanished into the shadows, leaving your body marked, your blood humming, and your soul more exposed than it had ever been.

You touched the place on your thigh where his fangs had sunk in.

Still warm.

Still burning.

Still his.

@auryborealis because I wanna treat her with this 😏

[jaimebeetles]

Rob Lucci and his Awakened Devil Fruit in ONE PIECE, Episode 1100: Unprecedented Power! Luffy vs Lucci! 

[listlesscatpotato]

One Piece Sexuality Headcanons

Luffy- aromantic asexual, to be his friend is the greatest honor

Zoro- demiromantic demisexual

Nami- Lesbian, gags at the idea of men

Usopp- Bi, prefers women, is too dedicated to Kaya to explore others

Sanji-Straight

Chopper- too baby

Vivi- Bi, prefers women, Nami was her awakening.

Robin- Biromantic asexual, likes cuddles and kisses

Franky- Pan, prefers women, but any hole is a goal

Brook- bi, no preference

Jinbe- refined gay, doesn't pursue anymore after things went south with Arlong.

Bartholomeo- biromantic bisexual, has a crush on every member of the Straw Hats besides Chopper

Garp- Hetero, only has flings

Dragon- bi, prefers women

Ace- Pansexual, slutty king, absolute manwhore

Helmeppo- Bi, currently dating Koby

Koby- gay, currently dating Helmeppo

Yassop- Hetero, also a manwhore but the less fun kind

Kaya- bi, is too dedicated to Usopp to explore

Zeff- Hetero, get this man a partner

Patty- gay

Bellemere- Lesbian, holy shit lesbian icon

Nojiko- biromatic asexual

Genzo- homoromatic asexual, get this man a boyfriend

Johnny- bi, dating Yosaku but poly

Yosaku- bi, dating Johnny but poly

Smoker- Questioning, started around when he started questioning the Navy

Tashigi- bi, prefers women

Bon-Clay- Pan, bi-gender

Shanks- Bi, prefers men, often hooks up with former partners

Alvida- Pan, no preferences

Buggy- gay, weakness for men who can kick his ass, hate-fucks a lot

Kaku- biromantic asexual

Kalifa- Pan, would fuck anything above the age of consent

Mozu- Lesbian

Kiwi- Lesbian

Koza- bi, prefers women, will end up with a man

Kureha- bisexual, fabulous about it, dated Hiriluk

Aojiki- gay, in Narnia

Kizaru- hetero

Akainu- hetero

Blackbeard- Hetero

Whitebeard- refined gay, been single almost his whole life

Paulie- Hetero, repressed

Pell- gay, so, so gay

Rob Lucci- bi, prefers men

Crocodile- Bi, trans man

Doflamingo- Slutty bi icon

Mihawk- Gay, the thought of touching a woman makes him nauseous

Foxy- Hetero, has never been touched

by a woman

Gol D Roger- Slutty bi king, fucked anything that said yes

Hiriluk- bi, dated Kureha

Iceberg- gay, dated Franky, currently single

Tom- Straight, dated Kokoro

Kokoro- Straight, dated Tom

Dadan- Ace, only family love allowed

Sabo- demi but in the pan way

Rosinate- bi, prefers men

Law- gay, has a crush on Luffy

[epraim1992]

Mystery of the Buccaneers

Vegapunk revealed that the Buccaneers have a special trait that makes them remarkable besides their the physical strength.

Buccaneers having giant blood seemed like a Red Herring. Kuma's size is not really unique.

There have always been large humans in the story. Judge pointed out to Big Mom that there were no giants in Totto Land only large humans and as a scientist he made no links between them. And Alvida in a flashback pointed out that Kuma was big as Whitebeard.

Saturn revealed that the World Government hunted down the Buccaneers for some grave sin they committed.

Vegapunk revealed later on that the World Government had also been hunting down the Lunarians and Thee-Eye Tribe.

The Lunarians and Three-Eye Tribe both have unique abilities possessed by two members of the Monster Trio. I think Zoro will have the unique ability of the Buccaneers.

Luffy has the ability to hear the the Voice of All Things.

This is the signature ability of the Three-Eye Tribe.

Sanji can conjure into flames which is the signature ability of the Lunarians.

I think the the Buccaneer signature trait is will materialization. which Zoro does through Nine Sword Style.

I think there have been hints. Vegapunk revealed that the soul existed and can be observed. Zoro's Asura form is an illusion born from his spirit.

He used a metaphor about Devil Fruits being materialized dreams which I think will turn out to be true with Buccaneers. He called the creation of Devil Fruits a sin, something the Buccaneers are accused of.

As for their sin I think the Buccaneers sealed Joy Boy's spirit inside of the Gomu Gomu no Mi. Zunesha heavily hinted that the Awakening of the Nika fruit is Joy Boy returning.

I think this ability might mean that S-Bear might not be 100% loyal. Rob Lucci stated his intention eliminate Bonney in front of him.

And Kuma awoke, I don't think it's a coincidence. I think S-Bear contacted Kuma to get him to save Bonney. I think the Buccaneers command over their will allowed Kuma to take action.

[yoshimickster]

Okay so when Rob Lucci is awakened-

-he appears like his ultimate fursona and is a bad ass fighter...but when MinoTAURUS awakened-

-he's...dopey as all hell...I'm sorry but given how badly he got owned, I REALLY doubt he and the other Jailer Beast's best furry selves were witless goons, something HAPPENED to them!

[beaulesbian]

[one piece 1111 spoilers]

some thoughts about Rob Lucci asking the Gorosei to spare Kaku

I guessed that Lucci would care about Kaku and his Cipher pol crew to some extent, like when they were recuperating after fighting the seraphim alongside the Strawhats, ch. 1090:

but then there was that scene in chapter 1107, when he was fighting Zoro, and kept talking about dead-weight to a crew, and "you're a pack of fools, unable to cut loose a single member for the good of the rest!!"

which, at first, I thought it's something like his moral compass that he would follow as he's saying. that he wouldn't be waiting for anyone on his team in similar situation, maybe would even leavet them to fend for themselves, etc.

But the new chapter kind of changes that with how he's clearly showing he cares very much what would happen to Kaku. Even as much to beg the Gorosei - and might I add, he looked quite freaked out the first time seeing that form (that makes me curious about how much Lucci even knows about them and the work of this particular branch of the government.. it's so curious.)

So this change in attitude was interesting to me, and then I was going through some other chapters and reread this panel of ch. 1069:

-where Vegapunk and Strawhats are seeing Luffy in his Gear 5 fight Rob Lucci, and he's explaining how the awakened Zoan type fruit can "absorb and control the user's personality" - and that could explain this change of behaviour.

When Lucci shittalks Zoro, he's in his awakened form, fighting like that for however long or short amount of time (who knows how long, by now), and maybe he has a good control on his devil fruit, but maybe there's a boundary that he isn't even aware that the fruit's power could be controlling him instead. (Why else would we get this comment from Vegapunk. It could be used as cautionary knowledge for Luffy in future as well).

So once Lucci is out of that awakened status, he sees a giant bird Gorosei who's plan is to probably destroy anyone in its path, and Lucci still pleads for his friend's life (kinda reminds me of Zoro begging Kuma for sparing Luffy's life in Thriller Bark! in a way!).

I'm really happy that Oda gave Lucci this moment. It really showed more of his character and nuance, and I wonder where he will be moving towards in next chapters now that he sees who just arrived on Egghead (that strong haki he felt and commented on in chapter 1110 to Zoro, and now seeing it was at least one of the Gorosei) and now that he's out of his awakened devil fruit status, maybe he would be allowed to think clearer.

And at the same time - if this small theory about the devil fruit controlling the user would be confirmed exactly by Rob Lucci and depending how he acts and think of it later - we could see some really interesting changes in his character in regards to what sides would he be taking during the rest of this Incident on the Egghead Island, especially given that this seemed like some end of his orders from the Gorosei? "I have no further queries."

There's still space for him to have some sort of redemption moment or even just a reflection about his actions, it could be all very interesting!

ch. 1107

ch. 1111

[onepiece-lov]

Rob Lucci OP05-093 by otton from Booster Pack -AWAKENING OF THE NEW ERA- [OP-05]

[mugiwarrrrra]

*Accidentally reads 1109 spoilers*

Rumors that St. Saturn summons the rest of the Gorosei against Luffy. People are freaking out how Luffy can match against FIVE Gorosei, when they're forgetting he has his own:

The King of Hell

Who will rush to his side(after THUMPING Rob Lucci), with the First Son of the Sea:

The Black Leg is already there:

The Soul King will be summoned (people seriously sleep on Brook, he hasn't Awakened yet)

And of course, he has the one woman they fear the most, the Boss Bitch, the Queen of them all:

The Demon Child, Nico Robin 🫴🌸

Yeah I think Luffy will be fine.

*Plus also God Usopp has his Masters on side, Nami is borderline a goddess of the storms (with Zeus) and Franky is like a mechanic given the keys to a formula one garage while in Egghead.

[kreaturehorder-blog]

So! I’ve had a crack at Rob Lucci’s awakened form. Not exactly cannon but I thought I’d try a different approach 😅.

[fiendfifofum]

Wait... for you to awaken your devil fruit your dream needs to be alligned with the dream that spawned the fruit. Rob Lucci awakened his Leopard fruit, which means Lucci dream canonically is to be a Leopard...

Rob Lucci furry confirmed?