21 stories about my favorite skeleton.
Some of them are fluff, some of them are angst. Some are AU, some are canon-ish. Some have bones, some have flesh, etc etc.
I might make a few of these prompts into their own stories, if I get bored enough in the future.
1.) Bald
When he first met the young boy who would become his captain, he knew his life would be changed forever. One journey across Thriller Bark later, he joined their crew. He slapped his old wanted poster of his more alive self, exclaiming his bounty. There had been cheers, and a party soon followed. But he couldn't help but freeze up when he heard;
"Was that your hair?! It goes off the page!"
"Ah, yes. I used to have an afro! It was quite marvelous." He explained.
"Oh. What a shame to lose it then..."
Brook rubbed at the smooth dome of his head and felt the familiar crack that ran all the way around it.
"Yes. But I suppose my roots weren't deep enough to keep it..."
2.) Not Quite Bone
He gently lifted himself from the laying position he had found his corpse in. He heard unsettling pops and cracks come from places, but he chose to ignore them. He honestly felt better than he had expected to, even if he no longer had a pulse. He checked his wrist with his fingers to remind himself, that yes, he was dead. He was lucky to have found his body so quickly, he didn't know what would have happened if he found his body after there were no muscles left to move it.
He stood, wanting to stretch the strange stiffness that was all throughout him, but refrained. He didn't want to risk making something fall off.
After a week or so of wandering the broken ship, he managed the courage to face himself in the mirror. He looked at his reflection and-
He looked like crap. His skin was almost gray, and his eyes were just... Gone. It looked as if someone had wrapped skin poorly around muscle and tissues.
His afro had remained as glorious as ever, though, which was nice.
3.) Sick
The old skeleton rolled onto his side, trying not to fall off. Chopper scurried about fiddling with many herbal remedies that wouldn't help at all for this type of sickness, but he tried anyway. He just didn't know what else to do.
"I'm dead. I shouldn't even get sick in the first place." Brook wheezed out, sounding nothing like he usually did.
"Shut up! You're straining your voice! Stop it, dammit!" Chopper said. The doctor was tempted to tape Brooks jaw shut for the ninth time that hour.
"Yohoho!" He laughed, though it was quieter than usual. He let out a few, barking coughs before seemed to melt into the blankets.
"I think I'll be getting some more sleep, if that's alright with you, Chopper-san." He said. Chopper nodded.
"You better get better you idiot." Chopper said. He left a cup full of an herbal remedy, knowing Brook would likely try it when he woke up.
4.) Who Needs Legs? (Besides Sanji?)
His spine, unfortunately, had been severed. His bottom half had gone somewhere where he couldn't summon it back to him, and now he was just a torso. Which wasn't at all difficult to move around with if he was being honest with himself. He just needed to have his hands supporting him at all times. Which was a problem considering he was fighting.
Maybe he could borrow Zoro's technique just this once...
He placed his sword between his jaws and immediately wanted to spit it out.
5.) Youth?
A strange flower was known to grow on the island of Tymwol. It had been said to grant rejuvenative properties to whoever was sprayed by it's pollen. This was true, it turned out, and had been considered a humane way of dealing with criminals that came to the island. Of course as soon as a pirate ship had been spotted they were sprayed with the pollen.
Brook was a tad bit upset that he had just been turned into a child skeleton rather than his actual childhood self.
6.) Actual Youth
The crew stared in disbelief at their once oldest member of the crew. A small, very small, baby sat in a pile of blankets where a tall skeleton should have been. Short black locks hung over the baby's eyes and a goofy smile had revealed a shocking lack of teeth. The baby cooed happily from the warm bed he was was in.
Ussop, surprisingly, was the first to react. He walked calmly over to the infant, and prodded the child's stomach. The baby squealed.
"Okay, but how?"
"Well, this is a problem." Robin said, also approaching the bed. She scooped up the baby along with a bundle of blankets. He squealed again, flinging his arms up and down. She booped the child on the nose which made him break into manic giggles. The baby, although very uncoordinated, managed to grab her hand and began chewing on her index finger.
"That's not fair." Sanji whispered, giving the infant a jealous look. Nami kicked him in the head.
"Well, what do we do now?!" Sanji said, getting up off the ground. "We can't have him like that forever."
"Okay, but do we even know it's him?" Zoro asked. He walked over to the supposed Brook and leaned down until they were eye level. Brook reached out with his hands, one of which was covered in drool, and poked Zoro's eye. He leapt back with a screech and Sanji laughed.
"With that hair? It has to be." Nami said, taking Brook from Robin's arm. Sanji immediately stopped laughing as the once-musician was cradled.
"None of this answers how or why." Ussop reminded everybody.
7.) Rib Tickling
It came as no surprise to him when he lifted shirt to find every rib broken. Big Mom had been carrying him around, and he had heard several cracking sounds, but every rib? That was just adding insult to injury.
His cracked spine didn't help either.
8.) Heat
It turns out he had his pant leg on fire the better half of a minute. The crew had a good laugh until the deck also caught fire. It's not his fault he didn't have nerves.
9.) Madness
If Brook had to describe what being crazy was like, he would describe a feeling where you constantly suspect you're going nuts but keep telling yourself 'I can't be crazy, crazy people don't know they're strange in the mind, but I know I'm very strange and because I'm very wrong in the head but I know that I must not be crazy but I am different but I'm not crazy.'
Or perhaps he tell you that being crazy was like constantly falling while still holding onto the edge and there's not a way to stop falling or to let go. And you're just stuck there in some strange inbetween where you either accept the strange feeling of constantly falling or you panic and make it worse.
Or perhaps he would talk about how crazy-ness is something like feeling perfectly fine even though it was raining fire and snowing at the same time and wondering what got everybody so worked up.
Or maybe, or most likely, he'd sing a song about it instead.
10.) Let The Bodies Hit the Floor
Welp.
That had been the strangest, most deafening heavy metal song he's ever heard.
Luffy seemed to like it though.
11.) Poison You Can't See
He faced his most... interesting opponent he had met thus far. The other captain, a gaunt little man with a nasty glare in is eyes, held out a long black blade in front of him.
Brook unsheathed his own blade, pointing it at his adversary.
"You won't win." Brook said knowingly.
"Hmm. Maybe so. But we'll have the last laugh." The man said.
"You, sir, are a fool if you think that to be true." Brook replied easily.
Brook and his crew ended up being crushed by the other crew. They just managed to scare the other ship away, plugging enough holes into the side to ensure it would sink in a matter of hours. But as Brook felt an odd numbness start up in his fingers, and as he heard several of his nakama fall to the floor behind him, he realized something. There had been poison on their blades.
In the end, Brook kept his word. As their enemy went home battered, bruised, and almost dead, they went home with their heads hung low. The Rumbar Pirates all died with a smile on their face and a laugh in their hearts.
But if Brook could've gone back and done one thing differently, he would've made sure that he saw the nearly unnoticeable, unackowledgable, drip of clear fluid that flew from that man's blade.
12.) Hell
It finally happened. Brook fell off his boat.
With no more than a small scream that got cut off by the ocean's waves, the ship of the Rumbar Pirates was truly a ghost ship.
Brook felt his limbs grow stiff under the ocean's tide, and the feeling of suffocation washed over him stronger than the waters ever could. He was drowning. After thirty years aboard a hellish boat, he was finally going to die.
But.
Just like how he needed no food, but still felt starvation, or like how he needed no sleep, but still felt tired, Brook needed no air.
If he didn't need to breathe, then he would never drown. But it still felt like he was.
He drifted, lifeless, somehow more dead than he had ever been before, to the darkest bottom of the Florian floor.
Now he didn't even have music to listen to or sing. Now he had no way to move. No way to see. No way to smell. No way to touch, no way to hear, no way to be. He was doomed to stay there, stuck in his own mind, with a earnest burning in his ribcage, for however long the universe felt like torturing him.
If he had thought going mad on a rotting ship forevermore had been Hell, then Hell must be nothing compared to this.
13.) A Choice
"You ate the revive revive fruit, young man." She said, a glow emanating from her hood. She had a voice like honey, and a smile like an angel.
"So I get to go back, right?" He asked, looking at the figure before him. She nodded.
"There's more to that, you know. I think you would like to hear the... other properties your fruit has." She said. Brook cocked his head.
"Other properties? Like what? What else can it do?" He asked.
"The revive revive fruit does exactly what it sounds like. It can bring someone back from the dead. This is not limited to the user themself." She explained, a boney hand raised to rest on her cheek.
"What do you mean?" Brook asked again, confused.
"You have a choice, young man. You can resurrect yourself, putting yourself into your original body and being brought back to life, or you can make someone, literally anybody you choose, resurrect for you." She said.
"I can save somebody? Anybody?" He asked, eyes widening.
"Yes. But you can only save one. One person of your choosing, one person will get that second chance."
He stood there, gaping. The tall figure of Death standing in front of him, somehow impossibly taller than he could ever dream of being.
"You must choose, young man. I can't choose for you." She waved her hands in front of her in a gentle motion, and in their wake dozens of sleeping, hanging forms floated in front of him. He saw his crewmates. His family. A lost love. A dead child. A person wrongly slaughtered. His captain. Himself.
"You can only choose one."
14.) A First Meeting
He ran as fast as he could.
Which was pretty fast, if he was being honest with himself.
Almost as fast as the two dozen or so gaurds on horseback that were chasing him.
He rounded a corner, his feet skidding along the dirt. He breathed heavily, but forced himself to be quiet. He pressed himself to the side of the alleyway building, watching as the guards chasing him went past without notice. He let out a breath of relief, but quickly realized he wasn't alone.
"Hey there... You look like you're having a bit of trouble." Someone said in the shadows. The ex-squadron leader snapped his head in the direction of the voice. He saw somebody, a man, standing in the alley, leaning against the wall. He was shorter than himself, but let's be honest most people were, and his hat obscured his face.
Brook cocked his head, squinting at the figure through the darkness. He had never had the best eyesight, so he couldn't tell whether or not he was smiling.
"Do I... Know you?" He asked slowly.
"Nah, you would've remembered me. But I sure as Hell know who you are." The other man chuckled.
"News traveled that fast, huh?" He said, rather grimly.
"Oh? I've known about you, a mr. General Brook, right?"
Brook nodded, but his eyes narrowed in suspicion.
"And how, exactly, do you know me?" He asked.
"It'd be hard not to, with your history."
"I don't have a history." Brook said, not liking what the stranger was insinuating. "I'm a good man."
"Wha-? Well I never said you weren't." The stranger seemed confused now.
"Then what's all that about my history, of all things? You know, I didn't mean for this to happen. Just one moment I'm in my office, next I'm considered a traitor-"
"Wait, what?! Traitor? What happened?" The stranger asked, looking directly at Brook for the first time.
"You said you knew!"
"Apparently I don't!"
"What did you think was going on?!"
"I thought a bunch of bandits were chasing after you!"
"Those were gaurds!"
"Well I didn't know that!"
"What did you know?!" Brook cried, exasperated.
Just then, several armed guards decided to check on the shouting around the corner. The guards rounded on the two men, brandishing swords at them, and they both lifted their hands in surrender.
"That you're good with music." The man said, but quickly shut up as the sword grazed his chin.
"Oh." Was all Brook could say.
"You're both under arrest!" The guards said, "Humming Brook and Captain Yorki of the Rumbar Pirates!"
"You're a pirate?" Brook asked, raising his eyebrows.
"Yup."
"Huh."
"Hey, Brook?"
"Yes, Yorki-san?"
"Join my crew."
"No."
Three weeks later, Brook joined his crew.
15.) Give Me Swordsmen or Give Me Death
"Brook. I want a duel." Zoro said, casually walking into the room.
"My apologies, Zoro-san, but I cannot right now. I'm writing a new song."
Zoro went over to Brook and started poking him.
"Brook. Brook. Come on you need to fight me."
"Yoho! I'm almost done, Zoro-san." Brook replied, poking him back. Zoro unfortunately took this as a challenge. He poke the musician a bit harder, which provoked the skeleton to retaliate.
It ended up with both of them in the med bay and a frantic Chopper desperately trying to untangle Zoro's leg from Brook's pelvis.
Sanji walked in, curious about all the noise, and started laughing his ass off.
16.) Melodies and Memories
Nami sat still, letting the music flow around her like water. It really was a lovely tune, it could be lively when it needed to be, fun and energetic, or it could be this.
And this.
This was awful.
The tune was merry, and the voices were loud, and they were all smiling, but there was too much blood on the floor and too much sorrow in the air for this to be a happy occasion. The man sitting next to her played on, the very alive man, but she knew he wouldn't be for much longer. None of them would be.
She kept her face hard, not looking at the man whose face she did not know, but whose voice could be recognized in any shape of form. She stayed quiet.
She stayed quiet when she heard the faintest of thumps behind her, just barely audible through the music. She stayed quiet when there were only four people playing.
She stayed quiet when Brook, a man who was louder than life, whispered the deaths of his crew.
Quartet.
Trio.
Duet.
Solo.
Only then did she speak.
"I'm sorry." She said faintly, as the person next her held his head. Whether it was from grief or from pain she couldn't tell. He chuckled anyway.
"What for? You were not the one to do this, you know." He said calmly.
"That you had to see this twice." She snapped. How could he be so cheerful?
"Ah, but Nami-san. I've been hearing this exact song, exactly the way it is now, over and over and over again for so long. What's one more time?"
"Stop it." This isn't right, she thought vigorously.
"Stop what?" He asked, sounding genuinely curious.
A pause. The music was slowing down, Brooks hands seeming to shake when he lifted them from the keys.
"I don't know." She said.
He laughed again.
"Come now, Nami-san. There's no reason to be sad. It's just a memory."
She shook her head slowly, her hardened gaze cracking. Brooks' voice was hoarse now, and dripping blood speckled the piano. She could faintly see something clear mixing in with the blood on his face.
This.
"Won't you sing with me, Nami-san?"
This was almost over.
17.) Like A Headless Skeleton
A festival, a bit of alcohol, and one hungover night later, Brook realized he could no longer see his body. As a matter of fact, he couldn't see anything at all, or hear too. He was quite literally left in the dark.
But, strange things are prone to happen to strange people.
Usually, when his head fell off, he'd use his soul power to just plop it back on. In the between time of this occuring, his body would be stiff and completely numb to his senses. But, as he was quite sure his body was not on his head, this was an exception to that rule.
The ground underneath him from what he could tell, was the same cold stones from the town they had docked at. They had been celebrating a holiday of sorts there, and the crew had jumped right in. He didn't exactly remember how his head got detatched, but he was pretty sure it was an accident.
He moved his hands across the stone, and paused when he felt somebody's head resting next him. He gently as he could explored their face, and discovered it was Ussop. Mostly because of his nose, there was no way you couldn't recognize that.
After he made sure that there probably wasn't a fight the night before, as Ussop was still breathing normally, he proceeded to poke his face. Ussop smacked his hand away several times before finally getting up.
After a moment Ussop took his hand and dragged him around, probably looking for his head.
After a few minutes, the grip on his hand tightened and Brook came to the realisation that Ussop was running and he should probably too. He managed to stumble over many things, yet somehow ended up half dragging Ussop along. Which in any other scenario he was sure the younger man would have appreciated, but Brook had absolutely no idea where they were supposed to be going.
After thirty minutes or so, they supposedly found a place where they could rest. After two hands pushed him gently downwards, he got the notion that he was supposed to sit. There were wooden planks underneath him, and there was a moist feel to the air, so he reasonably thought it was a ship. Hopefully the Sunny.
Little hooves were the next thing he felt, gripping his hands and prodding at the base of his neck. It was Chopper! He was most likely very concerned with Brooks' state of being, so Brook placed a hand on Choppers hat and patted it in a way he hoped was reassuring.
It was going to be an interesting day, to say the least.
18.) Ussop Gets to Deal With a Headless Skeleton
Ussop was woken up from his deep sleep to the feeling of bony fingers on his face. He scrunched his eyes, trying to block out the light from the sun. Who opened the curtains? They should at least try to let him sleep in a little after the party they had last night. Ussop rolled over in his covers, angling away from the sun. Except that didn't work because he was outside on a stone pathway.
He realized, and after smacking away the hand that had been poking him, sat up swiftly. He was on a stone pathway, in the middle of the forest. Alone. Well, no Brook was there. The Skeleton had been strangely quiet too, why hadn't he said anything-
"Brook where's your head?!" He yelled, realizing his friend was missing his most vital part.
The musician didn't respond. Ussop let out a long, long sigh. He stood, shaking off the headache that was starting to form, and grabbed Brooks hand. They walk for a bit, and Ussop began to get a strange feeling. Like they were being watched. He quickened his pace, not entirely comfortable not knowing where they were on an unknown island. When several twigs and branches were snapped behind them, his paranoia got the better of him and he broke into a sprint.
Despite missing his head, Brook still managed to be faster than him.
19.) A Different Musician
It had been years. Years and years and years. Just... much too long.
The old captain captain looked at his skeletal hands and flexed them gingerly. He had been shocked when he had first seen his new form, but it only took a few years for him to become used to that. What took him longer to get used to was the all encompassing silence that haunted his ship.
He could still hear them, sometimes. Their voices, their songs. He missed them dearly.
He even saw them sometimes, when his sleep deprived mind concocted strange scenarios he wished were true.
He was going mad, he knew. Which was odd, because crazy people didn't usually know they were crazy. What did that mean for him? Was he as sane as ever? Or twice as insane? He didn't know, he couldn't tell.
There were other ships. They floated alone in the devil's sea, much like he did. But their crew had long disappeared, not even ash or clothes left of them. He sometimes thought that maybe the crews of these other ships didn't die, but were rather... taken somewhere. Stolen. Kidnapped.
Gone.
They were absurd thoughts, and he waved them off as quickly as they came.
He came across an island one day, and that day he had grown to despise. His shadow taken from him, his pride wounded more than his physical form, he was forced back onto his prison of a ship.
He had lost all hope after that.
That is, until a rowdy group of pirate found him. He greeted them loudly, proudly. They shrieked and laughed, and they arrived at the island his shadow was taken at. An adventure just... happened. It was fun, terrifying. Thrilling, one could say.
And, after all of that trouble, the strawhat asked him the question he had asked when they first met.
"Hey, Yorki, join my crew."
"Hmmm. Sure, why the hell not?" He replied easily.
20.) Food
"Brook. Where does the food go? When you eat?" It was Franky who was asking this time. He'd been asked so many times before, it was like second nature to answer it now.
"Hell."
Franky spluttered.
21.) Flesh Again
He stared. His reflection stared back. He lifted a hand to the glass, and pressed his palm against it. The mirror was smooth and cold. Like he had been, the day prior. He had just... woken up like this.
It was odd and strange and everything he had been wishing for. But now that it was here he didn't know what to do.
"Brook?" It was Robin. He was facing away from her, so she couldn't yet see. "Is there something wrong?"
An innocent question. He honestly didn't know. Was this a blessing? A hindrance? A joke?
He turned slowly, and then faced her in the door frame. Her eyebrows shot up, and a look of understanding crossed her face.
She took a few steps forward, stopping when she was inches away from his face. She pressed a hand, a warm hand, to his cheek, making him tilt his head. He was confused, until he realized she was inspecting him. She looked at his ears that were hidden behind his hair. She lifted his hand and looked at the veins that appeared on his wrist.
She let go of him and took a step back.
"Well this is strange." She said. Brook nodded.
Just then, a scream echoed through the ship.
"I believe that was Franky." Brook said.
"Let's go check on him. I don't think you're the only one who got their skin back."