King The Wildfire - Blog Posts

Further questions regarding the edibility of one piece characters:

Do zoan types taste different in their human, animal, and hybrid forms? For example, would kaido taste different in his regular, hybrid, and dragon forms?

Does armament haki have a taste? If yes, does it taste different for every person? Does zoro's haki taste different to luffy's?

Does chopper taste like a reindeer or a human? Like, he ate the human fruit, so there's a chance he'd just taste like a human.

What would marco's phoenix form taste like? I think it would be something like spicy chicken but not spicy enough to cause pain. Like, bird + fire + healing = not painfully spicy chicken

Would queen be safe to eat? Like, disregarding any illnesses I may contract from eating a literal dinosaur man, the chances of me trying to take a bite and having some circuitry exploding in my face is probably too high for it to be worth it

How would king taste? And what would be the texture of his meat? Would the areas closer to his fire taste spicy? Would they just be really well done? Like, are the parts the fire touches like jerky whilst the leg is just normal meat? Or is it that the closer it is to the fire, the spicier it is?

Apologies for any misconceptions or mistakes, I'm still nowhere near wano, so I don't actually know if any of these have answers or are even feasible lol

Whilst I haven't reached WCI yet, I am aware of Katakuri and some of his powers. As such, I'd like to pose the following questions about Charlotte Katakuri:

Is his mochi edible?

Can he change the flavour of his mochi?

Does the mochi have any nutritional value?

If someone took a bite out of Katakuri's mochi and he turned back into flesh from mochi, would the piece that was bitten off stay as mochi or turn to flesh?

Idk, me and a few friends were just chatting about katakuri and this just popped into my head.

The implication of Vegapunk's mentioning of history getting rid of the rare races

within the larger context of both the rest of his speech as well as what we've seen of these rare races seems to be that they are being hunted down not because of any perceived strength but because of connections to the void century.

I think it's more obvious with Pudding, as the three-eyed race are capable of reading poneglyphs. There is a clear through line present as to why the World Government would view it as necessary to kill off the three-eyed tribe. They could easily uncover and spread the history that the government is trying so desperately to keep in the past.

With King, I'm not sure what connection the Lunarians could have to the void century, but I am fairly certain that they have to have one. If the World Government only wanted them for their strength, they would not be trying to eradicate them, and instead be trying to either enslave them or otherwise use them. But thinking back to Wano, and Kaido and Kings Backstory, it is fairly clear that the government had every intention of killing King after they finished experimenting on him, making his strength a secondary and a convenient thing that could be toyed with before killing him (experiments that are most likely linked to the creation of the Seraphim). Why not just recruit Lunarians to the Marines like they did with the giants, another race known for their strength? Unless they also have a connection to the void century that would make their existence far more problematic for the World Government. Perhaps the Lunarians were large players in the 100 year war, much like how those with the will of D were implied to be. Or maybe it's because they were said to once be the residence on top of the Red Line before it was overtaken by the Celestial Dragons.

I honestly don't think we have enough info to go off of yet to properly make predictions, but I do believe that King, Pudding and the like are going to become very important moving forward.

Something about Vegapunk using the dna and blood of a caged and experimented on child to create more caged child experiments and the cycles we perpetuate.

Because what does it mean that all that King has left as proof, that the lunarians were real, that they existed as a tribe, as a people, are seven manufactured children he doesn’t even know about, enslaved as weapons to the government that wiped out the culture they’ll never get to be a part of, and Alber himself another enslaved child lost to something he’ll never fully know.

And what of the warlords? Already young once and hurt by their government, young again and slaves to it. Boa looking at a version of her practically pulled out of time stuck in her worst nightmare or Jimbei looking at a version of himself living out a past he escaped by the skin of his teeth but so many he loved didn’t, even Doffy once again at the mercy of the people that already abandoned him, has Kuma not suffered enough? Given enough, is this child version of him doomed to repeat the same path he already could not escape from . Property of the world government, beholden to the celestial dragons, this version of me that cannot go free?

It’s interesting that Vegapunk joined the government so that he could do the most good, but look at the long line of people right infront of him that he’s hurt with his own hands.

King’s Helmet Mystery

What the hell is under King’s helmet? You're determined to find out. King’s patience? Running thin. Your schemes? Ridiculous. His reactions? Surprisingly flustered.

King X gn! reader | ONE SHOT

tags: fluff, sfw, ooc king, slight v!olence

a/n: this js me trying to write ffs, this is experimental and for fun only, so expect this ffs a bit cringe

word count: 1k

masterlist | ko-fi

: 𓏲🐋 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖✩࿐࿔ 🌊

The day you joined the Beasts Pirates, you swore you’d never fall for anyone on the crew. They were all either terrifying, annoying, or both.

Then you saw King.

And more importantly—you saw his helmet.

It wasn’t love at first sight. No, it was curiosity. Burning, rabid, downright obsessive curiosity.

“Why do you always wear that helmet?” you had asked on day three of being around him.

King didn’t even look at you. “None of your business.”

So obviously, that meant game on.

Phase One: Casual Questions (Totally Not Interrogation)

You began with subtlety.

“Hey, King, don’t you get hot in that thing?” you asked, leaning on a crate next to him.

“I don’t feel it,” he replied flatly.

“Must be sweaty in there though.”

“No.”

“What if you get an itch?”

“I don’t.”

“…What if a bird poops on it?”

He turned his head slightly. “Why would a bird—?”

“Just saying. You’d never know. Could be walking around with mystery poop on your face all day.”

King walked away.

You followed.

Phase Two: Bribery

You slid a pristine box of limited-edition dango on the table.

“I’ll give you all of these if you just lift it. Half an inch. One second.”

“No.”

“I won’t even look!”

“You’ll look.”

“…You’re right, I would.”

King didn’t budge.

So you tried again with spicy sake, rare fruits, a handmade lava-resistant scarf, and even a knitted plush version of him that you personally stitched.

He didn’t even glance at them.

Though you did catch him later discreetly carrying the plush to his room.

Phase Three: Stealth Mission (Failed)

In the dead of night, you tiptoed through the dim corridors of Onigashima’s fortress. You had intel. King always removed his armor to sleep. You just needed a peek.

You pressed your ear against the sliding door of his room. Silent.

Then you slowly slid the door open and—

“Nice try,” King’s voice cut through the dark. You screamed.

He was still wearing the damn helmet in bed.

“I—okay, first off, do you SLEEP with that on?!”

“Yes.”

“…Do you shower with it?”

“Yes.”

You blinked. “Wait, seriously?”

King smirked under the helmet.

Or at least you imagined he did.

He always had that smug aura like he was eternally amused by your suffering.

You sulked for a week.

Phase Four: Drastic Measures

You made a PowerPoint presentation.

No, really.

You dragged King into the briefing room and stood in front of a projected slide that read “TOP 10 REASONS TO SHOW ME YOUR FACE (PLEASE).”

“I made charts,” you announced.

King just stood there, arms crossed, flames dancing on his back.

“Reason One: Friendship. Friends share secrets. Boom.”

“Not friends.”

“Okay, Reason Two: I’ve literally never told anyone your height, weight, wingspan, or bedtime even though I definitely know all of those things and could sell that info to fangirls.”

King tilted his head. “Do you have fangirls?”

You blinked. “We’re not talking about me.”

By Reason Six (“For Science!”) and Reason Nine (“Because I said pretty please”), King stood and left the room.

You considered it a soft win.

Phase Five: The Disguise Plan

You put on a replica of his armor.

“Guess what?” you said, stomping around dramatically. “I’m you now.”

King didn’t even look up from polishing his sword.

You strutted in front of him, wings flapping. “Look at me, I’m so cool. I’m scary. Ooooh, no one knows my face. I’ve got MYSTERIES.”

“You look ridiculous.”

“Thank you.”

He sighed. “You have work to do.”

“Oh? So does King! He needs to show me his face before I LOSE my mind.”

Still nothing.

But Sasaki did walk by and immediately drop his drink at the sight of you.

“Why are there two of them now?!”

King groaned.

You cackled.

Phase Six: Reverse Psychology (and Screaming)

“Y’know what?” you said over dinner one night, loud enough for the whole table to hear. “I don’t even care what King looks like. Probably has a dumb face.”

The whole table froze.

King looked up, one brow probably raised under the helmet.

“Maybe he’s got, like, two noses,” you continued, chomping down on a rice ball. “Or maybe it’s just all teeth. Like a shark. Disgusting.”

“Why are you so obsessed with him then?” Jack muttered.

“I’M NOT.”

You totally were.

“Maybe you’re just in love with him,” Queen teased.

You choked on your drink.

King stood up without a word and left the room.

You internally screamed.

Phase Seven: The Fluffy Flop

After months of trying, you finally gave up. You sat on a cliffside just beyond the fortress, legs dangling, wind whipping through your hair.

“I give up,” you sighed to no one. “Maybe he does have teeth for a face.”

“Doubt it.”

You yelped.

King landed next to you, wings folding.

You scooted a little.

“…Sorry if I annoyed you.”

“You do.”

You sighed.

But he stayed.

You sat in silence, watching the moonlight reflect off the water.

“…It’s not about hiding,” King said suddenly. “It’s about surviving.”

You turned your head, surprised.

“I don’t care what people think. But I care about what they do. Especially if they knew what I am.”

You stared at him.

And then, for once, you said nothing snarky. Just nodded. “Okay.”

The Day the Helmet Came Off

It was during a battle.

You got hit—hard—and thrown across the battlefield, crashing into debris.

Everything spun.

Then—flames.

You blinked up to see King standing over you, face uncovered, the pieces of his helmet cracked and steaming beside him.

“…Whoa,” you whispered.

He was beautiful.

Strong jaw, red markings, piercing golden eyes. Sharp, fierce. Yet soft. Not what you imagined.

“Are you okay?” he asked, kneeling beside you.

You blinked. “You—your face—”

“Don’t say anything.”

You nodded dumbly.

He helped you up, hand lingering on your waist longer than necessary.

You whispered, “Definitely not all teeth.”

King groaned.

.

.

.

He wore the helmet again the next day.

You didn’t push.

But when no one else was around, he lifted it just enough to let you see his eyes.

You grinned. “I knew you liked me.”

King rolled his eyes. “Shut up.”

You leaned in and kissed his cheek.

He didn't move away.

Mission accomplished.

And you didn’t even need PowerPoint this time.

Hot Springs, Hot Tempers

You and King accidentally end up in the same secluded hot spring. Cue awkward tension, steamy misunderstandings, and fluffy chaos.

King X gn! reader | ONE SHOT

tags: fluff, sfw, king being bad at flirting(?), ooc king, post-battle

a/n: this js me trying to write ffs, this is experimental and for fun only, so expect this ffs a bit cringe

word count: 1.2k

masterlist | ko-fi

: 𓏲🐋 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖✩࿐࿔ 🌊

You had no idea the hot spring was co-ed.

Okay, to be fair, the old innkeeper had mumbled something about the “blessed harmony of nature,” but you’d tuned her out while ogling the steaming bath behind her. After all, after days of dodging explosions, clashing with marines, and nearly getting cooked alive by Kaido’s fire breath (which—honestly—should be illegal), you were in desperate need of a hot soak.

So, in you went.

Alone. Glorious. Gloriously alone. Or so you thought.

You sunk into the mineral-rich waters with a satisfied moan, stretching out your limbs like a boiled noodle.

“Finally,” you sighed. “Peace.”

And that’s exactly when you heard it—the sound of something massive stepping through the entrance behind you.

You froze mid-soak. Slowly turned your head.

And there he was.

King.

All 20-foot-something of him, broad shoulders covered in black scales and steam, towering at the threshold with his helmet already off, wings folded behind him like a damn mythical creature who forgot how personal space works.

He stopped, towel hanging over his shoulder, completely stone-faced as your eyes met.

“Oh no,” you said flatly, water sloshing around you.

King blinked. “...This is the private spring, isn’t it?”

You shot up, half-submerged. “I thought this was the solo spring!”

“You thought wrong.”

“You’re the one barging in here like some half-naked goth dragon!”

“I’m wearing a towel.”

“Barely!”

An awkward silence settled like fog on the water.

Then you noticed it—King’s expression faltering ever so slightly, as though realizing he had, in fact, just crashed a very vulnerable soak session.

“I’ll leave,” he muttered, turning on his heel with all the grace of a man who never once had to care about bathing etiquette.

“No, wait—ugh. Don’t.” You sighed, flopping back against the smooth rock ledge. “It’s fine. Let’s just pretend we’re two strangers in an awkward commercial.”

King paused. “A what?”

“Never mind.”

He stepped forward, water rippling violently with every heavy-footed motion, and settled into the far end of the spring. The opposite end. The farthest possible distance between you and his very large, very shirtless self.

Great. Now you had to pretend you weren’t occasionally glancing at his shoulders.

To be fair, you tried not to. But he was right there. With skin that shimmered like obsidian under the moonlight and muscles that made Greek statues look like soggy breadsticks.

And then he caught you looking.

You quickly looked away.

“I wasn’t—uh—I mean, nice... wings?” you blurted out.

His eyebrow raised. “That’s the best you’ve got?”

You groaned and covered your face. “I’m under pressure, okay?! You’re like—intimidating hot.”

King blinked. His cheeks, you could swear, colored faintly at the edges.

“Don’t call me hot.”

“Well don’t show up shirtless, glistening with steam like some overworked fanfic trope.”

A beat.

“…What’s a fanfic?”

“Forget it.”

Another silence.

Then, out of nowhere, King spoke. “I didn’t know you used hot springs.”

You side-eyed him. “I didn’t know you bathed.”

“I’m not a savage.”

“Well, jury’s still out.”

King huffed, turning his face slightly. For someone who once split a marine ship in two with his boot, he looked incredibly put out by your teasing. Almost pouty.

You smirked.

“Well, since we’re stuck here together… might as well enjoy it,” you said, leaning back against the stone and letting the warm water lull your muscles.

King tilted his head. “You’re not going to try anything stupid?”

“What, like seducing you with my wrinkly prune fingers?” you held up your soaked hands.

“…Yes.”

You snorted. “Please, you’d combust before anything happened.”

He grunted. “Fair.”

A few more moments passed. You dared peek again.

He was leaning back, steam coiling around his broad frame like silk, wings shifting with every subtle motion. You noticed he had a faint scar running along his collarbone—jagged, healed-over, and oddly… human.

“You have a scar,” you said before you could stop yourself.

King opened one eye lazily. “Observation. Noted.”

“No, I mean… I didn’t think Lunarians could scar.”

He was quiet for a beat. “I got it before the flame. Before I could heal.”

“Oh,” you murmured, eyes softening.

The mood quieted.

But then you, unable to help yourself, added: “...So you were a clumsy kid.”

He side-eyed you. “I fell from a sky cliff. That’s not clumsy. That’s survival.”

“Uh-huh. And I’m sure you looked very majestic doing it.”

“I did.”

You both cracked a small laugh. A real laugh.

And then—

SPLOOSH!

A wild monkey cannonballed into the spring.

You screamed. King leapt halfway out of the water with his wings flared.

“WHAT IN—?!”

The monkey screeched, flopped onto a rock, and began casually bathing itself with a smug little expression.

“…Are you serious?” you muttered.

King glared at the monkey. “It’s staring at me.”

You nudged closer. “Probably impressed by your wingspan.”

“Or your screaming.”

“Excuse me! That was a war cry of surprise.”

“I thought it was a kettle exploding.”

“You—!”

You were cut off by the monkey stealing your towel.

It yanked it from the side, chattered triumphantly, and bolted into the woods.

“HEY!!”

King, somehow, did not move to help. In fact, he looked… amused?

“Don’t you dare laugh,” you warned.

His lips twitched. “Consider it karma for calling me a ‘goth dragon’.”

You groaned and sank deeper into the water. “I’m gonna have to air dry now like a soggy noodle.”

“You’ll survive,” King said, voice warm with uncharacteristic amusement.

You both sat in steamy silence for a bit longer, the earlier tension melting with the mist.

After a few minutes, King shifted closer. Not much—just a foot or two. But it was enough to make your heart stutter.

“...You come here often?” he asked, in the most unintentionally awkward tone imaginable.

You blinked.

“…Are you hitting on me?”

“No,” he said too quickly.

You raised a brow. “That was absolutely a pickup line.”

“It was not.”

“You literally just asked, ‘do you come here often?’ in a secluded hot spring.”

“…Coincidence.”

You stared at him. He stared back.

Then—you burst out laughing.

“I can’t believe this. You’re terrible at flirting.”

King flushed. “I’m not trying to flirt.”

“Oh, no, of course not. That towel drop earlier was just an accident too, huh?”

“That was gravity’s fault.”

You giggled so hard you slipped slightly under the water, splashing like a drunk dolphin.

And then—you felt his hand.

Gentle. Large. Holding your elbow to steady you.

You froze.

He looked surprised at himself too, eyes wide like he hadn’t meant to do that.

But he didn’t pull away.

“…Thanks,” you mumbled, suddenly very aware of the fact that your face was burning hotter than the water.

King’s gaze softened. Just slightly.

“You’re welcome.”

You both stayed like that, too long, too close. Until—

“HEY!!” someone called in the distance. “Is the spring free yet?!”

It was Queen.

You and King jumped apart like teenagers caught making out behind the gym.

“I should go,” you said.

“Yes. Right.”

You stood up, realized you still didn’t have a towel, and groaned.

King turned his back with a surprising amount of respect. “Take mine.”

“…Wait, seriously?”

“You’ll catch a cold,” he muttered, ears slightly red.

You wrapped it around yourself, stunned silent for once.

As you left the spring, water dripping and heart racing, you dared glance back at King—still chest-deep in steam, gaze lowered, face unreadable.

But there was a faint curl to his lips. Almost like a smile.

You didn’t know what that meant. But you did know one thing:

You were definitely coming back to this spring.

And next time, you might just forget to bring a towel again.