“Luffy,” his mother says, passing on a name and a blessing all at once. “Oh, my Luffy… You are going to be so loved, I just know it.” She dies with a whisper and a smile on her face. Luffy, only a few minutes old, scrunches up his impossibly tiny little face and begins to cry. And then, like magic, seven other newborns scattered all throughout the seas did exactly the same. (A One Piece/Sense 8 fusion)

It’s said that soulmate marks are gifts from the gods. Certainly, more than this has been said but, well. Luffy’s never really been one for gods or any of that stuff. Those stories are always so boring and long-winded.

Around ten in the morning, Nami signals that they’re approaching an island. At noon, the Thousand Sunny docks in a bay full of white sand and sunflowers with rusty yellow petals. At one, it’s safe to say all the Strawhats have scattered around the island on various errands or explorations. By two in the afternoon, everything changes. "Luffy?" He speaks without speaking. "Sanji?" Luffy answers without answering. "What the fuck—", Zoro curses without cursing, and suddenly all three of them—all /one/ of them—is knocked flat on their ass on the ground.