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thefandomdirtymind · 1 year ago

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Hello! I saw your post you're open for a request and I was wondering if I could I have OPLA Sanji?

About Sanji fall in love towards reader but reader was hesitate and unsure if Sanji is being sincere it's like she's having trust issues since Sanji is considered a ladies' man or flirty and was afraid he'll broke her heart?

A/N IMPORTANT: Hey, thank you for your request Anon ! I had to confess that it was kind of a hard one for me because well...trust issu hit close from home and I just start to write that angst even if it was not my specialty, but I really like the result and I hope you will too !

Trust Issues

OPLA - Vinsmoke Sanji

Sanji / OPLA Masterlist and Coming Soon

* English is not my first language, I tried really hard to correct myself but, I hope you will excuse me if some mistakes are still there.

—

Love wasn’t your cup of tea. Sure, the idea of a partner supporting and adoring you like you deserve was cute. But, in your opinion, you have already done enough. After all, your last relationship has resulted as becoming a pirate and being abandoned by your lover to save his ass. And, If the humiliation hadn’t been enough, not long after your escape for the marines, you had seen him parading with his new lady wrapped around his arm. Like if you hadn’t existed at all.

So, nobody could blame you if you had some trust issues and an aversion for ladie’s man.

It’s why you knew the minute you saw his smile what Vinsmoke Sanji was : A pretty flirt.

If it was only you, you had refused his presence on the ship, but, like Luffy had said, the Going Merry needed a cook and the man was a hell of a fighter. As the morning came, you couldn’t also deny the fact that he looked incredibly good in his suit, his bag on his shoulder, ready to come aboard. Smiling at the instant he spotted you.

“ Hello Madam, I'm glad we met again. Can I say that you seem even more beautiful in this sunlight” He offered, from the dock, as you were sitting on the main deck rail adjusting a rope.

“ You may, but it doesn't mean I will accept the compliment. Luffy is on the upper deck if you search him” You coldly replied, trying to shut down your traitor heart. You will not fall for another pretty face, never.

“ I didn’t expect much Madam, thank you for the information “ Sanji replied, his mood in nothing affected by your coldness. Sure, he had hoped for a warmer welcome, but after serving you the night before and found himself unable to turn his gaze away from your beauty. He was satisfied with just being part of the same crew as you, the rest would come later he had assumed.

It took, in fact, way longer than he first thought. For the entire few weeks he had been on board, you hadn’t looked or talked to him except to thank him for the food or urgent matters.

Many times, the crew had tried to talk to you, asking you to be more nice with Sanji. But, even if you could feel his charm often softened your shield, your stubbornness was even stronger.

It wasn’t easy for Sanji either. He knew you clearly disliked him without knowing why. When, on his part, the more he was admiring you, watching you laugh with the others, hearing your brilliant plan, watching you gracefully climb the cordage and being as stubborn as him. Make him love you even more. Everyday, he was trying to charm you, offering you compliments, taking an interest in what you were doing or simply making you the best food he could. But, nothing worked, you answered him quickly and as coldly as always.

It'll take another two months and a storm before Sanji has enough.

The rain was falling for hours,helped by a wind so strong that you had to close one of the sails to avoid drifting away. Each two hours or so, the members of the crew were making a rotation, trying as much as possible to not fatigue themself too much and end up falling into the water.

You were the only one still standing, drenched by the cold rain, your muscles sore by the force necessary to keep the helm stable. Multiple times Nami and Usopp had tried to push you to take a rest or at least eat something warm, but each time you refused resolutely, you would pass that storm and rest after.

Meanwhile in the kitchen, Sanji was finishing his soup, preparing three bowls for the crew member who will come downstairs to take their rest. As he prepared himself for going upstairs, doing his part, the blond chef saw Nami and Usopp going down the stairs, alone. You aren’t with them, again.

“ Where Y/N ” He asked, already knowing the answer.

“ She refuses to budge of the helm. we tried to talk to her but it’s like talking to a rock” Nami replied, wrapping herself in a big towel.

“ I’ll come back, I will bring her here “ Sanji only replied, his happy mood now sour. It wasn’t rare in the time who’s he was running the restaurant with Zeff that he lost his temper. He had lost it already a time or two during battle, but against another member of the crew,it was a first.

Making his way to the helm, he looked at you, already knowing it will not be easy. But, to be sure you’re in security, he was ready to fight you if he had to.

“ Y/N, your time has long passed, I will replace you. I prepared a dry towel and warm soup in the kitchen. Go take some rest “ He first tried.

“ I’m not tired or hungry “ You simply replied with your gaze focused on the horizon.

“ Then I’m afraid I have to excuse myself Darling “ Profiting from an adjustment of your position, he then proceeds to lift you on his shoulder, easily dodging all your attacks, as he was getting you down in the ship to dry both of you.

“ How dare you ! “ You scream, shaking of rage and cold. As he sits you on one of the kitchen stools and throws a dry towel at you. “ I was perfectly fine !”

“ You were on a trip to catch death ! “Sanji replied sharply, his gaze dark and his wet form in a stiff posture with anger “ I don’t know what I exactly did to make you dislike me like that, but I can care for you if you do some stupid things like that ! “

“ Then just don’t care about me and go flirt somewhere else !!” You angrily answered.

Taken aback, Sanji tilted his head, frowning his eyebrow, clearly confused.

“ Wait…what…You dislike me…because I flirted with you ?“ He slowly asked, trying to understand your point.

“ I just don’t understand why you haven't given up yet ! I had already done with the damn flirty kind, go charm your other ladies and leave me alone ! “

" My other…” Sanji starts disbelief. “ I don’t give up because I care for you…stubborn woman! " Sanji tried to say. Never had he thought that it was his manner that you hated so much. " But if my affection isn't required, fine, eat and rest, that's all I ask " He sighs ,disappearing upstairs.

A long and heavy silence fell in the kitchen after he left, leaving you with a curiously heavy heart and some concerned gaze of Nami and Usopp eating their soup. After a while, you sigh, defeated and take yourself a bowl. As always, the dish was perfectly balanced and delicious.

" You know y/n...I know your story, I understand, I do. But…Sanji didn't flirt with any woman aside from you for months…I think he genuinely likes you, " Nami softly spoke. "Of course I'm not you and you have all the right to act like you do, but it’s not Sanji's fault. He’s not him… and I think the day he will stop caring for you, you will realize it’s will be maybe too late”.

“ Maybe “ You admit, finishing your food before leave it into the sink and heading to the door” I will sleep a little, wake me up when it will be our turn again please “

But she never woke you up and when you opened your eyes, the sun was shining again on another day.

Sanji wasn’t the kind of man who'd give up easily, neither on his dream nor on the people he loved. But, even with his flirty tendency, respecting women and their wishes was a priority. It’s why, even if it cost him and that your word had wounded him, on that sunny day, he started to restrict at the minimum his attention to you.

And you noticed it immediately. His gaze on you, usually full of affection, was now more distant, he didn’t ask you if you had slept well, nor if you would like something in particular for breakfast, he simply put an omelet in front of you, smiled politely and returned to his occupation. Yes, for Sanji it was odd, but, as a ladie’s man you give him a week before going back to his old habit.

Luckily for you, life decided to give both of you a hand.

Your estimation could never be more wrong. After two weeks of polite but cold Sanji, you were almost wishing you never had that fight. Your traitor heart was missed his radiant smile toward you, his compliments for every little detail of your person or the way he tried to know every one of your favorite things. But you had broken it and you were now unsure how to repair it. Excuse could probably do the charm, but your stubbornness was always blocking you, estimating that protecting your heart wasn't shameful.

The Going Merry was anchored alongside an island, doing his needed resupply. As the last barrel had been brought on board, you followed the idea of Zoro and decided to join your companions for a drink at the little bar on the beach.

But, as you put your foot in the small place, you froze, your mind resuming to a static white noise. Your ex, already another lady at his arm, was installed with his crew at the largest table of the little tavern.

“ Hey Y/N come here, that table is free ! “ Luffy exclaimed, not noticing your stiffness.

“ Y/N is that you ! Damn girl, I haven't seen you since you were surrounded by Marines ! I own you for this one, how did you escape ?! “ The despicable man shouted, clearly more happy to see you, than you were to see him. “ Darla, that girl was... my most loyal crew member. “He explained to the girl at his side “Look at you, have you always been that pretty ? “

The compliment was the last straw that snapped you out of your shock. How could he talk to you so casually after all you had endured because of him. Doesn’t he have an ounce of regret or shame ?!

“ I escaped on my own after you had cowardly abandoned me ! “ You replied, as Sanji placed himself behind you, placing a hand on your shoulder in support.

“ Y/N, that man clearly doesn’t deserve your time, come, the drink will arrive soon” He tried, giving a hard look at the pathetique Captain who was now coming a you, his hand scratching his hair, gauging if Sanji was a menace for his future plan with you or not.

“ Not deserving of his time, I had already two years of her time mate, go sip your beer and let us discuss. Y/N and I have many things to talk about. I haven’t abandoned her, I knew she could escape, she’s a smart cat. Aren't you Sweet pea”

“ I have nothing to say to you, thank you Sanji but I’m not in the mood. Being in the same room as him would suck all the joy I have. I will be on the ship. “ You simply replied, making your exit before tears ran down your cheeks.

Sat on the upper deck, watching the night sky, the fresh wind drying your last tears, you saw Sanji came back onboard. Without a word, he simply sat beside you and offered you the bottle he was keeping in his hand.

“ Zoro sent his regards and I’m here to tell you that I’m sorry. I had tried to respect your wish, but I couldn’t stop myself tonight. I can’t not care for you and that man was...he shouldn’t ever treat a lady as you like that. Maybe now he had learn “

“ Sanji, what did you do? “ You asked, strangely touched that he had actually take your defense even after you had left.

“ I kicked his pathetic and disgraceful ass. I couldn’t tolerate the way he was looking at you, talking to you...But I understand now how my behavior led you to dislike me when I arrived, But I assure you that…”

“ I know, “ You said your heart, still fragile, beating faster.” You aren’t him and I should have waited to know you. I was scared, I didn’t want to like you because I was afraid to repeat the same story. But even if I tried, I realize when you had stop to caring for me that I miss it, I missed you…a lot“

Suddenly unusually shy, his cheeks a slightly shade of faded pink in the dark, Sanji avoided your gaze, a joyful smile spreading on his lips.

“ I suggest that we start over. We can't forget all those months but we can restart our relationship.I can’t wait to truly know you Y/N” He tell, finally planting in gaze in yours, that lost spackles in his eyes, the one you though forever vanish, back even brighter that ever.

“ I can’t wait too, Sanji “ You softly smile.

___

Your first kiss with Sanji happened a little shorter than a month later. At exactly the same spot.

Since that night, you have made a habit of watching the sky together, sharing stories, passions and thoughts. Even if the blond cook, not without surprise, seems to find the constellation less appealing than your sweet view at his side. But, you slowly adapted yourself to his flirting and even often replied, to his joy.

It was in one of those moments, as you turned your head to point to him a group of stars that Sanji captured your lips, answering your heart's deepest desire from months and even probably since the tall man had put a foot on the deck.

Somewhere on the lower level of the ship, you hear the playful screams and wolf whistles of your friends. But, as he captured your lips for another kiss you couldn't care less. You had an amazing group of friends, the sea was peaceful and with the help of Sanji, your heart finally started to heal.

#opla!sanji x reader #sanji x reader #one piece netflix #opla #opla sanji #vinesmoke sanji x reader #one piece #one piece sanji #opla vinesmoke sanji x reader #sanji x y/n #Request #Sanji Request

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craftingcreatures · 1 year ago

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Some sketchy concept stuff that I'm posting because I liked it but couldn't be bothered to refine it into an actual artwork.

These submarine behemoths are the Mermares (Clade Euhippocampiformes), secondarily aquatic descendants of the domestic donkey. The group first appeared around 29 million years post-cataclysm, in the late Nerian stage of the Diluvian period. They evolved from an animal called the Seabra, a descendant of the Donkey which adapted to exploit a niche with, thus far, zero competition - that of a large marine herbivore.

On earth, marine ecosystems are notable for the distinct lack of vascular plant life, a condition caused by a number of factors - most notably the osmotic stress caused by the saltwater. Most photosynthesis is carried out by algae. On Spero, however, things are different. Because Spero's oceans were generated relatively recently, from extraterrestrial ice particles, there just hasn't been enough time for erosion and the water cycle to deposit dissolved minerals in the water. As a result, Spero's seas are made of freshwater - a much more tolerable condition for most plants, and thus the diversity of marine vascular plants is much, much higher than on earth. Also, due to the flatness of the flooded landscape and lack of any real tectonic features, enormous swathes of the seabed lie within the photic zone, less than 200 meters from the surface. Thus, endless expanses of marine grasslands - the "seagrass prairies" - extend from the shore, often for hundreds of miles before the water finally gets too deep for photosynthesis to occur.

All of this plant life is an extremely attractive prospect for herbivores, and it was likely what drew the ancestral Seabra to forage in shallow coastal meadows in the first place. But as the oceans got deeper and life adapted, the Seabra had to adapt in kind - their hind legs rotated backwards to act as a pair of propulsive flukes, their forelimbs developed into steering flippers, and their nostrils retreated to sit on their foreheads.

One notable feature of the Mermares is hyperphalangy, a condition where the fingers have too many bones. It's very common in large marine tetrapods in Earth's history - whales and dolphins, Ichthyosaurs, Plesiosaurs, and Mosasaurs all exhibited hypoerphalangy to some degree - and seems to be associated with the specialization of the limbs into flippers. We would expect to see similar patterns in marine lineages on Spero. What's unique about the Mermares, however, is the sheer number of extra phalanges in the finger; at least fifteen in the shorter-finned species, and more than thirty in the longest-finned forms. And because Mermares - being equids - only possess one digit per limb, the result is a single long chain of flat, squarish bones which, in some cases, can reach over forty feet long - the longest arms ever to exist.

These ridiculous appendages produce a lot of drag and are merely adequate for steering and stabilization. So why do the Mermares have them?

The answer is that they're weapons. And particularly devastating ones, at that.

Mermares use their flagellating flippers as bludgeons, against both predators and conspecifics. The flippers are connected to powerful neck muscles and can be swung forward with impressive force; combined with a well-timed twisting of the giant horse's torso, the huge flippers can impact hard enough to shatter bone and pulverize flesh. The flippers themselves do not escape unscathed, and older individuals often have scarred or mangled flipper-tips from numerous battles over the years; but it's a small price to pay for survival.

When not being used against their enemies, the flippers may be folded back against the sides of the animal to reduce drag, or used as props to keep the animal's belly up off the seabed when feeding. Mermares spend up to 18 hours per day grazing, using their long neck to crop aquatic grasses and other vegetation in a wide arc without moving their bodies and occasionally dipping up to the surface to breathe. Mermares are keystone species in the seagrass prairies; as hindgut fermenters, they are not as efficient at processing plant matter as ruminants like goats, and produce large amounts of nutrient-rich dung which acts as fertilizer for the meadows and helps keep the environment productive. The dung also acts as food for a variety of fish and invertebrates.

Let's look at some of the Mermare's diversity, shall we?

Drepanarion (center right) One of the smaller Mermares, Drepanarion nonetheless grows to nearly 12 meters (39 feet) long. It is immediately recognizable by the bold black-and-yellow striping on the heads and necks of the stallions, and by the tall, narrow nuchal crest which extends from the withers and makes the stocky body look even more powerful. Unlike most other Mermares, which live in small groups of less than ten individuals, Drepanarion can be found in herds of over a hundred in the seagrass prairies of the Savanian (41 - 50 million years post-cataclysm). These nomadic throngs graze patches of seagrass nearly to the roots before moving on, giving the ecosystem time to regrow before returning in a few years' time. Drepanarion exhibits the most extreme sexual dimorphism of any Mermare, with stallions being both larger and more brightly coloured than mares; during the annual rut, males will fight each other in brutal bludgeoning matches to establish dominance and secure mates. To this end, they have some of the most extreme flipper anatomy of any Mermare; though not especially long (indeed, they have the shortest flippers of any derived genera), each phalanx bone has a protruding bony tubercle on the anterior edge which extends into a keratinous knob. These knobs both protect the flipper during combat and focus the force of the blow into a smaller area, dealing more damage.

Hipposeidon (bottom left) First appearing in the early Imberian (50 million years post-cataclysm), Hipposeidon is the largest of all Mermares and, indeed, the largest animal ever to exist on Spero, with stallions regularly reaching over 24 meters (80 feet) long (mares are slightly smaller). Extremely large specimens may even reach 30 meters (100 feet), although this is rare. This ludicrous size - nearly rivaling even the mighty Blue Whale of Earth - is possible only due to the sheer abundance of its food. Hipposeidon appears at the height of the seagrass prairie's extent, and can pack away almost 900 kilograms (1900 pounds) of seagrass per day. This superlative food requirement has important consequences for Hipposeidon's behaviour; this animal is migratory. Seagrass prairies are extremely productive ecosystems, but nonetheless Spero is a seasonal world; as the summer growth gives way to the winter die-back, the greatest of the Mermares must migrate across the equator to seek out a continuous food source to fuel its immense bulk. In this way Hipposeidon experiences a perpetual summer, interrupted only by the biannual migration from north to south and back again. Female Hipposeidon are pregnant for about one year, timing the birth of the single large foal with arrival to the feeding grounds; the six-meter-long foal enjoys a long childhood nursing and playing in shallow summer waters, gathering strength before making the long swim across the barren tropical zone to pastures new.

Bathypegasus (top left) The last and possibly the weirdest of the great Mermares, Bathypegasus is the only member of the clade which is not a grazer. Instead, it is a specialist feeder on pelagic, free-floating ferns. These ferns are a seasonal bounty, growing in huge numbers in the tropical summers of the late Imberian (60 million years post-cataclysm), where the planetary ring system shades out large portions of the planet for half the year. A close relative of Hipposeidon, Bathypegasus has left its ties to the seabed behind, becoming a fast, powerful swimmer which spends most of its life far above the sea floor. Its flippers have adapted to be even more ludicrously long - the longest forearms of any animal, ever, with each one measuring nearly 14 meters (45 feet) in length and each containing at least 35 individual bones. No longer used to prop the animal up off the seabed, these whiplike flippers are narrow and streamlined and can be whipped through the water at speeds of nearly 20 meters per second (that's over 40 mph) - the most extreme weaponry of any Mermare, and used to great effect against predators. Bathypegasus, like Hipposeidon, is migratory, following the blooms of pelagic ferns across Spero's oceans. Thanks to this midwater diet it is the only genus of Mermare to survive past the mid-Imberian extinction, when rising sea levels and steepening coastal slopes caused the seagrass prairies to disappear. Bathypegasus finally died out in the Ultimoxerian stage, around 75 million years post-cataclysm, the last and weirdest of the giant marine horses.

#spec bio #spec evo #speculative biology #speculative evolution #Vicis Aeternum #Spero #seed world #equid #donkey #they're like if a whale and a horse had a baby and that baby was somehow also a diplodocus

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nethhiri · 3 months ago

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Warnings: Violence, gore, body horror

Chapter 53: Research and Development

Kid and Killer returned to the ship coated head to toe in differing shades of red, some blood dried, some fresh. They went straight to the brig with their prisoners after being assured you were stable. They had a lot more rage to release yet, and you weren't awake anyway. Although they did want to be by your side, Heat thought it better to keep them out of the infirmary for now. He was afraid of what they might do if they saw how much worse you looked in the bright lights. Quincy and Emma had intercepted Heat, kicking him out of the infirmary to perform the more intimate task of cleaning you up. While it was true that you would prefer the least amount of people as possible to see you like this, it was also true that you would be particularly mortified and distressed if one of your lovers were to see the full extent of your injuries, being that some of them were more private. Heat agreed that it would be better for them to take care of it, and even though they knew it would be uncomfortable, they were happy to do it. As your friends, they cared just as much about you.

There were about a dozen prisoners, including Warthin. He wasn't to be touched yet, but his eyelids were sewn open so he had to watch what was happening. Kid had selected the most frightened marine out of the bunch to be first. Sometimes he liked to use pliers, but in special circumstances, like today, he enjoyed pulling teeth with his metal fingers. Much of the time his metal hand wouldn't fit. That was no problem. He would simply break their jaws until they hung slack from their faces. Kid normally would go right in with bludgeoning his prisoners to death. This time, he needed to take his time. When he was done with the teeth, he moved on to pulling out finger and toe nails, then breaking all the digits. Next, he liked to rip off any easily accessible appendages: ears, lips, tips of noses. This was followed by cutting off fingers and toes, tongues, tits, and dicks. He had to make it last, draw it out. These fuckers didn't deserve quick deaths. His style tonight was essentially slow disassembly.

Killer was the opposite in some ways. Although he also liked to bludgeon, he held back. Killer liked to precisely focus on internal targets, starting from least likely to make someone hemorrhage internally, to most likely. He would begin at a softer force and ramp up to hitting with his full weight behind it. His favorite part, though, was at the end when he would slice open his victim and watch all the liquified organs slosh around. It reminded him of a good, hearty stew.

This evening, when Kid was finished with the minor amputations, Killer took over, beating the absolute dog shit out of the marine. At one point in time, they were seeing how long they could punch him back and forth between each other. One strike from Killer put so much rotational force on the man's head, that not only did his neck break, causing instantaneous death, but one of his eyes flew out of the socket, dangling by it's nerve. Kid squatted down and plucked it from the man's skull and cocked his head, appearing to be in deep thought. He reached into the other socket and pulled that eye out as well. Kid grunted and stalked out of the room, eyeballs in hand, asking Killer to join him in his workshop when he was through.

After spending all night in his workshop, Kid finally retired to his room and washed all the blood off. Killer had left earlier to do the same, and was just waking up when Kid was finished. They were going to come check on you regardless, since it had been half a day from the time they recovered you, though they were hastened by Heat knocking frantically at the door. He had walked into the infirmary to find you and the bathroom door gone and a mixture of shattered glass and blood all over the floor. When Kid and Killer burst in, they were immediately concerned. Kid was remorseful that he had probably been right next door when it happened and didn't notice a thing. The door between his shop and the infirmary was closed for privacy. Still, he should have been able to hear it. He had been too engrossed in his work.

Killer observed the room more closely. The glass on the floor was devoid of the liquid inside. Some tinctures remained on the higher shelves or the back of the cabinets, where you couldn't reach. It was clear to him that you grabbed everything you could feel and took it without prejudice. It hurt him that you felt as if you couldn't ask for help, or that you wouldn't. Did they not make you feel comfortable? Did you not trust them? Or maybe your love for them had diminished because they took so long to get to you. Were you upset with them? The guilt began eating at him.

At the same time, they both heard a faint whimper coming from the bathroom. Bounding to that side of the room, they put their ears up to the wall and heard more. They could recognize it as the same sounds you made when you had a nightmare. A few times they called out to you, growing louder with worry each time. Minerva grunted a warning at them as Kid threatened to break the wall down. The crest of hair along her spine puffed up, as she prepared to forcibly remove Kid from your proximity. It turned out she didn't have to. Your rebuke was enough to make both Kid and Killer head towards Kid's workshop.

"LET ME BREAK THE DAMN WALL DOWN, KILLER! SHE DOESN'T KNOW WHAT SHE'S SAYING!"

"Kid, think about it. Think about everything that happened to her. Do you think violating her space is the best thing to do?"

Kid let out a frustrated growl under his breath, a reluctant acceptance of what Killer was saying.

Killer put a hand on his shoulder. "She'll come out soon, when she's ready."

"I'm just worried about her, Kil." The concern was clear on his face. "She looked bad. Real bad."

"I know, Kid. Me too." Killer hugged him, more for his own comfort than Kid's. "Do you think... she still has love for us?" Killer said it very quietly. "We took so long to get to her. So long."

Kid ran his hand through Killer's hair. "I hope so."

Kid hadn't even considered it. Maybe you would be upset with them. First, they didn't listen to you, then they failed to protect you. After that, it did take them too long to find you. He was still worried about your wellbeing, but his worries drifted to this new fear after Killer spoke it into existence. Kid threw himself into his work as Killer left to tend the kitchen, neither of them feeling better about any of this. Kid had started working on something for you a while back and given up on it. He brought his notes back out, along with his rough sketches and some medical texts he had borrowed. Last night, Killer had helped him carefully dissect the eyeballs he borrowed from the marine. Kid wasn't sure if he gained much from it, but he was determined not to give up this time, especially now that you really needed it. He thought about how you offered to give him back his arm and how he deeply desired to show you that same devotion. He would give your vision back.

After struggling for some time with the intricacies of human sight, Kid grew frustrated. He glanced at the door dividing your two spaces with the impulse to be closer to you. With a defeated sigh, he strode through the door and stood outside the bathroom. Minerva snorted at him in greeting. He wanted to talk to you. Thinking over what Killer had said, he changed his mind. Kid stared at the boar. She was sprawled out sleepily, content to wait for you on the floor. Kid hadn't had a chance to sleep yet. Maybe the pig had the right idea.

"Mind if I join you, pig?" Kid slumped down the wall.

It wasn't long before he had fallen sideways in his slumber, leaning against the boar's soft underside. His monstrously loud snores filled the entire room, rivaled only by Minerva's, who may qualify as second loudest snorer on the crew. Hours had passed and Kid, as a codependent sleeper, had snuggled right up to Mini, hugging one of her front legs. He was unbothered by the feeling of you tripping over him and the ensuing insistence of Minerva for him to wake up. He felt his arm being nudged and lifted by a snout, being dropped, and having it done repeatedly.

His eyes cracked open, a blurry shape was one the floor with him. Kid sucked in a breath when he discovered the shape was you. His amber eyes focused and he scrambled over to you, pulling you into his lap. You had dried blood all over you and fresh blood clinging to the side of your neck. He moved the towel around you, his eyes widening with shock. The wound on your chest was already bad, but now it was horrendous. Half of it looked infected and half off it had been carved off, butchered. Kid could see the vibrant pink-red of muscle through the blood coating your chest. Panic rose in his gut and all he could think to do was call for Killer. He wasn't equipped for this. If you died, he would be pissed at both himself and Killer, Killer for telling him not to break down the bathroom wall, and himself for listening.

Relief swept through him like a wildfire when he heard your voice. He clung to you, on the verge of shedding tears he was so overcome with emotion. Kid rocked back and forth with you in his arms. He wanted to tell you over and over again that he loved you and he was so happy that you were alive, but he couldn't get the words out. He was too busy trying to memorize the way your skin felt against his, the smell of your hair, the sound of your voice, the weight of your body in his arms, just in case he lost you again. He could feel you trembling under him, your body trying to shut down. Your voice was so faint when you asked for help. Kid hugged you tighter to himself, trying not to break down and cry. He knew that it had to be bad for you to ask him for help. Although he was wracked with fear for you, warmth bloomed in his chest knowing how much you had to care for him and trust him to request this of him.

Killer ran into the room, alerted to Kid's call for him by one of the crew. When he saw where Kid was, he rushed to his side, glancing into the bathroom you had holed yourself up in. His stomach turned at the chunks of flesh and sour blood at the bottom of the tub. His attention was only drawn away by the sound of you moaning in discomfort. Killer knelt down, gasping as Kid moved away from you and he saw the extent of the damage.

"Oh Y/N, what did you do?" He gazed with sadness at the self-inflicted butchery. Killer placed his hand on your cheek. It was hot and clammy under his touch. His heart ached when he saw the condition you were in.

"M's-sorry." Tears rolled down your cheeks when you heard the sadness in his voice. You didn't want to cause him pain and you were guilty about refusing his help earlier. "I should've-"

"Shhh. You don't have anything to apologize for." Killer wiped the tears away with his fingers. "Kid, we have to finish what she started or the infection will only get worse." One glance at your chest wound and he could tell it was poisoning your body with toxins.

You weakly nodded, supporting what Killer had stated. The fever was starting to creep back into your bones.

Kid blinked and swallowed hard, thinking about what that would require. "I don't want to. I can't."

"I don't want to either. We have to, though."

Neither of them wanted to responsibility of inflicting more pain upon you. Kid had placed you back on one of the gurneys while Killer grabbed some antiseptic, a new scalpel, and some gauze. They both stared at the scalpel, waiting for the other to take up the mantle. Killer took a deep breath and reached for it, knowing Kid wouldn't be able to. You were flat on your back, head turned away from the side Killer was working on. Your consciousness was swimming, being sucked down a dark vortex, and struggling to pull itself out. The first few timid cuts of the blade helped it surface, the pain anchoring you to the world of the awake. You flinched at some and the rate of your breathing increased as the cuts became progressively more painful. Killer watched your face contort with pain from the corner of his eye, focused on removing the greenish flesh from your torso. He could tell you were trying not to reveal the intensity of how much it hurt, to spare him from feeling badly about the necessary task. One particularly deep cut nearly made you jump off the gurney with a shriek.

"Sorry! Sorry." Killer put the scalpel down. "I can't do this!"

"You have to...keep going." You were very dizzy all the sudden. The room appeared to be melting, which was odd since you couldn't see. Oh no.You hoped that Killer would figure something out, because in a few seconds, you were going to lose your grip on reality.

"I can't! I don't want to hurt you."

In a moment of sepsis-induced delirium, you laughed. "Pussies." You couldn't stop laughing. "Get Wire. He would love to." Of course you knew deep down that wasn't true, but this was not really you talking. It was, but it wasn't.

"Don't say that." Killer pressed gauze to the places that kept bleeding. "Can you use your devil fruit to make the bleeding stop?" When you didn't respond, he shook your shoulder gently. "Hello?"

"What devil fruit?" You giggled.

Killer shared a glance with Kid. This wasn't a good sign. Killer sent Kid to fetch Wire and Heat. Wire would have less of an issue with the task at hand since he was more removed from you, feelings-wise. Heat needed to help with cautery since you were of no help with hemostasis. By the time they came back, you had finally slipped out of consciousness. Killer explained their task and both Heat and Wire worked to debride the wound while minimizing the blood loss. You had already lost a lot, which contributed to your previous out-of-reality experience. While this happened, Killer went to the cabinets and rooted around for something he was familiar with. He hadn't had a lot of experience with infection. Of the things he could find, he looked them up in some of the books lying on the counter. It seemed one or two of them would work as antibiotics. Only one was in a vial, though, so he chose to inject that. It would have been difficult to give you a pill unconscious.

When they were done, you didn't look much better to the untrained eye. The wound on your chest was oozing blood, open to the air, no skin to cover it. Killer was somewhat relieved. The muscle was red and angry, but that meant there was blood flow and a tissue reaction. In other words, your body was still fighting and still attempting to repair itself. Killer dismissed the others. Kid tried to stick around, but his queasiness forced him back to his workshop to watch at a safe distance when Killer started to wash the wound out and paint it with salve. He did the same with your leg. Now the wounds were as clean as they could be, and coated with something to keep them from drying out. When the major work was completed, he noticed that there were still shards of glass embedded in your skin. You had healed the skin around them, probably not noticing that they were still there.

Killer spent a long time picking out every individual shard and disinfecting the gouges left behind. He sighed at all the blood crusted around your neck and in your hair. He wished you had just asked them for help in the first place. Being stubborn was a double-edged personality quality. He was used to it, being Kid's partner. Killer filled a basin with warm water and took a washcloth to your skin, gingerly wiping away the evidence of your stubbornness. He watched the rise and fall of your chest as he did so, reassured by its regular rate that you weren't in any immediate danger. He changed the water in the basin before attempting to wash the blood out of your hair. It proved harder than it looked. He ended up having to scoot you up on the gurney so that the top half of your head hung over the edge slightly. He pulled all your hair together and put it in the basin in his lap. Killer had pulled up a chair to make it easier.

As his hands combed through your hair, a small smile was brought to his lips. He reminisced about how you had been in opposite roles not so long ago. What a difference time had made. The Kid who threw worried glances over his shoulder now, was the same Kid that tried to kill you with his own hands several times over. Killer was glad to have intervened. He tilted his mask up with his shoulder for a moment to press a chaste kiss to your forehead.

"Nurse, please." You mumbled. "I already have four mmmboyfriends."

Killer was startled by the sound of your voice, soon realizing you were sleep-talking. He snorted and rolled his eyes, interested in the fact you said four instead of two. You hummed your unconscious satisfaction as he massaged your scalp. By the time he was done, you were in a deep sleep and had a clean head of hair, braided into twin tails. He adjusted you to be more comfortable in the gurney and tucked you in. He put a hand on your forehead and retrieved a damp cloth to lay over it since you still felt hot to the touch. There was nothing else they could do now but wait.

Your dreams started pleasantly enough, thanks to the fevers tendrils poking at your brain. There was a cute, tall nurse with legs that went on for miles and lavender hair in pigtail buns, perfectly framing her little nurse hat. Her outfit was definitely not appropriate for the medical setting. She wore incredibly impractical stilettos, the heels were syringes, with a miniskirt and crop top. The lenses of the glasses she wore were red plus signs to match the cross symbol on her hat. She spent a lot of time giving you unnecessary sponge baths and bending over to pick up dropped pens. Every meal was chocolate cake that she insisted she had to feed you. The nurse brushed and braided your hair, giving you a kiss on the forehead when she was done. Weird, but you weren't going to question the medical professional. She wished you a speedy recovery and turned to the cabinet to retrieve something. In classic dream-like fashion, she turned back around with a cartoonishly sized syringe in hand. It was nearly as big as she was with a needle to match.

"Can you roll your sleeve up for me, baby?"

You looked her up and down. "I would get on my knees if you asked me." You weren't sure why that fell effortlessly out of your mouth. Kid was rubbing off on you. Or maybe it was something in the drugs she administered. Or maybe you were just a pervert and didn't want to admit it.

The nurse giggled and pressed the, now normally sized, needle into your exposed arm. "Good girl. Just a few more minutes." She shoved a lollipop in your mouth.

"A few more minutes until what?" It was hard to talk with your mouth full, the candy clicking against your teeth. You started feeling groggy and your limbs were heavy. You were unable to jerk back your limbs as she started to restrain them with leather straps to the hospital bed.

"Until the operation." She sauntered to where your head lay, bent over you, and pulled down her glasses to reveal eyes without pupils. "Your eyes are so pretty.... I think I'd like to have them." She laughed maniacally, the echoes bouncing off the walls and surrounding your head.

You opened your mouth to scream and no sound came out. In a blink, you were somewhere cold, naked, and you couldn't see anything. There was a lot of poking and prodding. You tried to slap the hands away but couldn't connect with anything solid. You started to run. You ran faster and faster, until you tripped and got a face full of sand. Now you were hot and sweating. You still couldn't see. There was a hard kick into your side, causing you to reflexively cough and get air back into your lungs. There was another kick. This one turned you over on your back. You could hear ocean waves crashing.

"She's got no eyes."

"Tch. No use ta us then." Kid's voice hovered over you.

He was right. What use were you now? You couldn't read a map. You couldn't keep watch. You couldn't fight as well as you had. That was your only use. Never again would you shoot. Never again would you climb the mast to sit with your friends into the long hours of night. Never again would you patch up your crewmates after a fight. Never again would you review routes with Wire. Never again would you pick out clothes with Heat. Never again would you stand side by side with Killer and watch the sunrise together. And never again would you admire the red rivers on the floor of the brig with Kid. You might as well lay in Kid's bed with no clothes and legs wide open. That was all you would be good for now.

"But she saved my life."

"So what? Ya wanna keep an extra worthless mouth around? To fuck, aye?" Kid's boisterous laugh rang out.

You got kicked again. And again. And again. And then you were back on the cold, hard ground in Warthin's cell. No, you were back in his bed. This time you weren't restrained. This time when you sensed him coming, your muscles coiled in wait. When he approached, you lunged at his throat, gripping it with both hands and knocking him to the ground. Armament haki coated your arms and you let out a feral yell. You wanted nothing more than to rip out his trachea with your bare hands. Strange, he wasn't putting up that much of a fight even though he was gurgling underneath your grip.

You were jerked backward without warning, breaking you free from your nightmare-plagued slumber. With a gasp, you were brought back to reality. There were strong arms under your armpits, lifting you off the ground. You were disoriented and frightened from the lingering effects of your dreams. Sensing your impending panic, Killer swiftly released you. He placed you back down on the gurney so that you were sitting and lightly held your shoulders with his hands.

"Hey! Hey. Hey. It's me. It's Killer." The first mate's calming voice was in your ear. "You're home. You're safe." When he felt you relax he released your shoulders.

That's right. You were back where you belonged. It took a moment for your body to catch up to your brain and get re-oriented. There was someone coughing in the background. It sounded like... Kid?

"Lot harder to deal with," Kid paused to breathe, "when I don't wanna kill 'er." He caught his breath gradually.

Your lip quivered as you realized what had happened. You must have reacted in your dream to Kid approaching you and started choking him. What if you had used your devil fruit instead? What if you had killed him by mistake? You dropped your head in your hands to cover your face. You wished you were still in the bathroom. It was too vulnerable to be out here where you couldn't tell what faces they were making or read the expressions that came with their words. In spite of the obvious care and concern they had for you, it was still difficult for you to believe that they still wanted you, both romantically or as part of the crew. It was difficult to separate the assumptions that you had created in your mind from reality. It was difficult to separate some things you dreamed of from reality. It wasn't fair that you had lost the control you had over your emotions and over your reactions. Everything you did now was on survival instinct or a trauma response and you had no choice in the matter. You fought so hard to live, and for what? To be some withdrawn, pitiful creature? Maybe it would have been better if you hadn't lived.

"That's a good sign right?" Kid continued. "That she's got her strength?"

Although Kid was in good spirits seeing you more lively, Killer was more cautious in his optimism. He answered carefully, "Physically... yes." His crystalline blue eyes were fixed on your hunched form. "Kid, would you mind giving us a minute?" Killer wanted to probe how you were reallydoing, and he was worried Kid's presence would cause you to be guarded. It had been two days since he had dressed your wounds. He and Kid had come to check on you and change your bandages.

"Why do I hafta leave?! She's finally awake! I want to-" Kid trailed off into mumbles when he sensed Killer's disparaging look through his mask. "Fine." He stalked off to his workshop.

Killer could feel the distress rolling off you in waves. He sat next to you and put his arm around you, pulling you into him. He rested his chin on the top of your head and soothingly rubbed your arm with his thumb. Killer didn't say anything for a while. He only held you. Cautiously, he pulled your hands from your face, holding them in his own hands, which encircled you. He was made a little more optimistic when you allowed him to do this and squeezed his hands in response.

"Will you talk to me? Please."

Your voice was gravelly from disuse. "What is there to talk about?"

Killer expected a non-answer from you. He knew you hated being unguarded and hid behind your hard-ass persona. "Anything you want. When you're ready."

It was barely perceptible, but you nodded.

"Thank you." Killer lowered his voice. "You know I... really care about you." Killer stopped himself from saying what he actually wanted to. He didn't want to overwhelm you when you were already in an emotionally overloaded state.

You squeezed his hands again and buried your face in his side, inhaling his comforting scent and absorbing the warmth he exuded. You felt small beside him, small and safe. Killer's admission would have had more of an effect on you if you were your normal self. Lightly, you touched the bandages at your chest, remembering fragments of what happened a few days prior. A faint glow emanated from behind the bandages and flickered out within a few seconds. You were still too weak to use your devil fruit. There was a growl from your stomach as it gnawed on itself with hunger. If you were going to regain strength, you had to eat.

"How about I change these bandages and then I'll make you something to eat?"

You nodded.

Killer swiftly exchanged the bloodied gauze for some fresh coverings, noticing that the edges of the wound were pink with freshly healed skin. For the limited time your power had worked, it managed to close as least a little bit of the wound. The rest of it was scabbed over and nothing was oozing or green which was a promising sign. He finished up and turned to go start on some food.

"Killer...," you paused. "I don't want to be in here." Although the infirmary was previously your domain, the smell of antiseptic and old blood wouldn't let you think of anything but the past few traumatic days. You needed to be in a different environment.

Killer let you wait in his room. He gave you one of his old button-up shirts to wear, like the one you used to wear with one of Heat's old corsets. The front opening made it easier to check on your bandages and you could leave it slightly unbuttoned so the fabric wouldn't rub against them. It was much better being somewhere that smelled welcoming and familiar. Lying on Killer's bed, you became conscious of how dry your mouth was. You probably hadn't had anything to drink for the last few days. You should have waited for him to come back, and you thought about it, but now that you were aware of your thirst, you couldn't think of anything else.

You slid out of bed and felt around in front of you with your feet before taking a step. You held your hands out in front of you to catch yourself if you fell. All you needed to do was walk the short distance to the sink. You made it with only a few bumps. Leaning down you drank straight from the tap. It was amazing how good fresh, cold water tasted when you hadn't had any in days. Parched, you gulped down water until your stomach hurt, not caring that it was dripping down the side of your face. You came up for air and wiped off your face with the back of your arm. You stood in front of the sink, as you had many times before, knowing there was a mirror there, mocking you. Instead of dwelling on it, you thought about how long it had been since you brushed your teeth, and somehow that was more repulsive to you than thinking about how you were permanently blinded, in that moment. You found the toothpaste easily enough, where you remember it usually being. The toothbrush was harder. There were three, but the colors were obviously indiscernible by touch. You touched the bristles and went for the one that seemed least used. That one was probably "Kid's", except it wasn't, because he always used someone else's. After you brushed your teeth, you splashed some water on your face. The smallest acts of taking care of yourself had you feeling a little more yourself, a little more human.

Making it back to Killer's bed was a little more difficult, but you got there in one piece. Almost as soon as you did, you could tell that Killer was coming. You couldn't hear him, or feel any vibrations from his footsteps, yet he appeared a few minutes later. The door opened and the smell of spaghetti drifted over you several seconds later. Your mouth started to water. It was a good thing you didn't have to worry about refeeding syndrome. They had fed you plenty when Warthin was set on using you as a breeding whore. Your stomach growled again.

Killer smiled when he saw you waiting patiently on his bed. You had obviously been up to something. There was a bunch of stuff knocked over around the path to the bathroom and there appeared to be dried toothpaste on the shirt you were wearing. But what really had him smiling was that there was life behind your face. You seemed closer to being yourself. He sat with you on his bed and put a plate down. Killer nudged the fork closer to your hand when he saw it feeling around for the utensil. It was difficult for him to watch you struggle with the noodles. They kept slipping off the fork before you could get them to your mouth, and you couldn't see it happen. He saw the frustration growing in you as you repeatedly put an empty fork in your mouth. You put the fork down and covered your eyes with your hand to keep him from seeing the water that sat on the rims of your eyes. Killer knew you wouldn't immediately accept his help, though maybe now you would.

"Can I...?"

After a subtle nod, Killer gathered a bite on the fork and offered it to you. There was the slight pressure of his thumb at your chin so you would open your mouth. The familiar taste of his spaghetti brought you memories of the first time that he made it for you, when you had accidentally agreed to a date. A few more bites, and Killer placed your hand on the fork with his around it. He helped you twirl the pasta and bring it to your mouth, not because you didn't know how to eat pasta, but so you could spatially memorize where everything was in relationship to yourself. You didn't need his help after that.

"Thank you," you said between bites.

Killer knew you wouldn't have to do this for long. They still had your eye and he knew you would figure out how to put it back. The only reason he didn't let you in on this was that you were in no condition to try and your inability to heal your chest at the moment was evidence enough to justify it. He was worried that if you knew, you would try too soon to use your devil fruit and potentially ruin your eye in the process. If you did that, Killer had no doubt that you would be angry with yourself for, quite possibly, the rest of your life, unless Kid actually figures out how to create a functioning human eye. An arm and hand, though complex, were nowhere near the complexity of an eye.

When you were finished, Killer handed you a napkin to wipe your mouth off with. He cleaned up a stray droplet of sauce on your cheek before grabbing the empty plate.

"I'll be back, okay? I have to feed the rest of the crew." Killer left for the kitchen.

You laid back on the bed and patted your full tummy with your hand. A full stomach, more often than not, made you sleepy. Even though you had effectively just woken up after sleeping for two days, this time was no different. As you were drifting to sleep, the door burst open, startling you enough that you jumped.

"Kil! I almost fig- ROTTEN!"

The bed dipped down and bounced back up as strong arms wrapped around you simultaneously, squeezing too tightly. Kid's hair tickled your face as he buried his own in your, still very tender, chest. You yelped and pushed him away.

"Oh shit. Sorry!" He shifted so that he was lying at your side instead of crushing you, with his arm draped across your body.

Kid was glad you couldn't see how red his face was. He was just... really happy to see you. He was happy that you were alive. All he wanted to do was set you in his lap and never let go. He wanted to pepper kisses all over your face and wrap his arms tightly around you. He wanted to tell you how much he cared for you and how sorry he was that you went through this. He wanted to tell you how sorry he was that he couldn't stop it from happening and that it took so long to find you. Right now, though, he was content to simply be near you until you were more recovered.

"It's fine. I did choke you earlier."

Kid frowned. There wasn't the usual bite to your words. Even when you were in a good mood, there was still a playful fighting spirit inside you.

"I know it's...kinda stupid to ask. But are ya doing ok?" Kid was far from the best at being comforting, but he wanted to try, for you. He wanted you to say: "You're right. That is stupid." That would be what the normal you would say.

"I can't fucking walk by myself. I can't fucking eat by myself. I can't do anything by myself."

"We'll help ya. I said I would do anything. I meant it."

"Why?"

"What do ya mean 'why'?"

"Why would you go that far for me? I'm some fucked up stray you picked up in the middle of the ocean." You sat up and pulled your knees into your chest. "You didn't even want me on the ship in the first place. And anything that I was valuable for before is gone now. I'm not worth having around. I can't see! I can't shoot or fight. I can't even use my devil fruit properly without my sight. I'm fucking useless." You added more quietly, "I'm worthless."

"We're all fucked up strays, doll. This is where ya belong." Kid sat up and put his arm around your shoulders. "Fuck whatever happened before. We all want ya here now. I want ya here now and I don't care about any of that. Kil and I don't think that yer anything less than ya were before. We're gonna make it right."

"Don't patronize me. What are you gonna do? Give me my eyes back? Because that's the only way I can even begin to feel normal again." If you had any more tears left, they would be precariously close to falling.

"M'gonna try."

"What?" You said it quietly, like you didn't believe him.

"I've been working on it, while you've been out."

"You... have?"

Kid rested his head against yours. "Ya offered once to give my arm back. This is the same. Been using the prisoners to experiment."

"Prisoners?" You turned to him. "Did you-?"

Kid saw a flicker of your true self shine through and he chuckled darkly. "He's all yours, princess. We only roughed him up a wee bit."

"I'm going to eviscerate him," you swore. "But I want to be able to see it."

"I'll make it happen." Kid kissed your temple. "Promise."

Tag list: @bbnbhm @nocturnalrorobin

#y’all are lucky I decided to end this with fluff bc it was about to be angst af #but after the last few chapters I think reader deserves just a fragment of comfort #marooned #one piece #eustass kid #massacre soldier killer #x reader #eustass kid x reader #massacre soldier killer x reader

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nagisa-666 · 1 year ago

Text

《Tanjiro! F! Reader x Yan! One Piece》

《CROSS POSTED TO WATTPAD》

《WARNINGS!: yandere mentions, curse words, mentions of decapitation, violence, crackfic at the end, angst, lazy writing, Luffy kind of being creepy, OOC behavior, KNY x One Piece crossover.》

(Name) didn't know how she got here.

She remembers fighting a demon, with Nezuko on her back, simply trying to complete her mission, before she heard the demon shout something.

What was it again? She can't remember clearly, all she remembered was that after the demon shouted it, she smiled wickedly and a dark, swampy, dark blue portal opened up under her, and then she was falling from the sky.

The sky was dark, signalling night and she panicked briefly, before she calmed down and rotated her body, getting closer and closer to the ground, before landing safely, her ankles almost hurting from the long fall.

Nezuko knocked on the door of her box, silently asking to get out, and (Name) agreed, after looking around and making sure that no one was around to watch them.

After that, they found an abandoned shed, and she hid Nezuko while she went off to gather information, slowly gathering newspapers and asking townspeople through the months that they were on the island.

After two months of slowly gathering information, she had found Matsuemon, who apparently found the demon she had been fighting, and entered the portal to find her.

With Matsuemon with her, she had been able to gather information even quicker.

Turns out, the demon had the ability to make portals anywhere, anytime, which meant she had transferred them to an entirely different world.

This world was so different, if she hadn't had so much proof, she wouldn't have believed it existed in the first place.

Pirates and marines ran amok, both causing terror and chaos, and in this quant little town, she was the town's proclaimed protector, continuously protecting the little town from crazy pirates and corrupt marines.

But even then, she still needed to train in case she ever gets sent back. With the portal demon sending slayers to other worlds, who said she couldn't do the same for other demons? What if Kibutsuji used her demon blood art to slowly conquer other worlds too?

If this world is overcome by demons, how is she alone going to protect it?

The mornings were always beautiful to her. The light blue rays and the lovely flowers that would bloom, the warm sun that would brighten the day.

She loved it when she woke up with her siblings. She'd wake them up, with Nezuko waking up peacefully, folding up her futon as (Name) would wake up Hanako and Takeo. While (Name) got ready for the day, Nezuko would help wake up Shigeru and Rokuta, then they'd help them get ready.

Mom would help Dad go to the kitchen, and they'd all sit down and eat, before getting ready to do their chores.

She missed those days.

Now she's left all alone. Nezuko sleeps the day away, only waking once the sun has gone down. She doesn't have her friends anymore.

Now, she can only wake up to intrusive sun rays, burning her eyes as she makes breakfast for one. She puts on her clean clothes, then goes out to train. Her days have bled into a disgusting repetitive routine.

Even when the village children offer to play with her, she hardly accepts. Living the nomadic life that she has been forced into changed her behavior.

It seems the only excitement she gets is from fighting those terrible people, who take advantage of the kindness of the world.

Even now, as she trains, she can't help but think that she'd prefer to be on a mission with Zenitsu and Inosuke.

"Kamado-san! Kamado-san! Come quick, there are pirates! Pirates at the harbor!" She heard from a distance, grabbing a cloth to wipe her sweat away, bokken at her side as she watched Ryuusuke, a young man who always told her of pirates or marines, sprint towards her little shack in a panic.

"Hold on, okay? Relax, I'll go check it out. Calm down, go inside and grab a drink of water, then you can come back, okay?" She said, voice automatically trying to calm the older down, gently patting his back before showing him to the door, letting him in, before she grabbed her classic slayer corps shirt, buttoning it up and grabbing her katana, opting to leave her haori home, leaving to go see these 'pirates'.

Despite how much Ryuusuke rambled about how he'd protect her if he had her by his side, he always seemed to like to choose to flee instead of fight.

"Hey, doesn't this town seem... Off to you? None of them seem worried about us being here..." Nami said, frowning as she looked around to see peaceful townspeople, still going about their day as if there wasn't a pirate crew among them.

"Huh? What are you talking about? These guys are just real friendly, haha!" Luffy laughed, looking around to find a restaurant, Zoro only nodding along.

The three of them had left the Merry, leaving Sanji and Usopp there, to gather supplies and food, but so far, it seemed as though none of the townspeople knew who they were.

Well, besides that one man, who saw them and then broke into a sprint, running over a hill for some reason.

"Hey, you!" A sudden shout caught her attention, making her turn her head behind her, looking around before looking down, spotting a child who was pointing at them, making some of the adults who were around them quickly turn around.

"Me?" She questioned, pointing to herself as Luffy and Zoro stopped, instead watching as the little girl grinned.

"Yeah! You're pirates, right?!" She grinned wider, showing that she recently lost a tooth.

"Yeah..." Nami said skeptically. So the people of this town did know who they were, but they weren't worried.

Now, call her a scaredy cat, or call her a skeptic, but all these signs typically meant that this town was either a pirate enthusiast, which she doubted, or they had a protector.

It couldn't be the marines, there were no bases on here.

It couldn't be another pirate, either, there were no flags showing anywhere.

So who was it? What made this little girl so confident?

Or...

Was it a false confidence?

As (Name) entered the town, an older woman ran up to her, tears leaking out of her eyes, and almost mumbling with how mushed together her words were.

"Woah, hold on, calm down Shiroku-san! Breath slowly, what's wrong?" (Name) asked, helping Shiroku calm down, enough for her to listen to what she said clearly.

"The pirates! T-They have Mari! They're gonna kill her!" Shiroku said, tears coming down once again as she thought of her little girl dying.

"What?"

"T-They have her in the town square!" She sobbed, falling to her knees as (Name) frowned, eyes intense as she thought of the little girl who always hung around her when she went to town.

While she never really hung out with the younger girl much, she still knew that the little girl didn't deserve to have her life cut shirt by some greedy pirates.

Those who crush the hope of the innocent...

Were the type of people she hated the most.

While Nami didn't like to resort to violence with children, she had to find out whether or not they should be worried about this 'protector' of theirs.

So she had Zoro pretend to threaten the little girl, just to lure them out. If no one came, then they'd just leave her be.

But no one's come yet.

Was it false?

"Hey. What are you doing. Let her go. What's wrong with you." A sudden angry voice broke her out of her thoughts, making her turn her head to see the one who said it.

It was a fairly young woman, with short black hair and burgundy tips, wearing black baggy pants and a white belt, a black button up shirt going with it.

She didn't look strong, but if she was like Luffy, she definitely had a hidden strength.

She even had a katana for goodness sake!

And with that scar on her forehead, something told Nami that she had her fair share of battles.

"Has no one told you that it's dishonorable to attack children? How disgusting." She said, eyebrows furrowed as she unsheathed her katana, the deep black catching the eye of the green haired swordsman, who smirked.

Letting the little girl down slowly, he also unsheathed his swords, getting ready for battle.

Luffy just sat in the background laughing cus he knew that Zoro wanted to fight the unknown swordswoman lol.

Panting heavily, (Name) stood in front of the three pirates, slowly bringing her katana up to behead them, eyes dark as she glared intensely.

"Those who crush the purity of the kind... I despise those kinds of people. For that sin, please sit still as I rid you of your heads." (Name) said, voice almost shaky from rage, sword above her head as her eyes almost shone red in the light, the sun setting in the back as the townspeople retreated back to their houses.

... Why wasn't she doing anything?

With the sun completely down, they watched with bated breaths, watching as the woman slowly began to shake, before throwing her hands to her sides, katana forgotten.

"... People like you... Make me sick to my stomach. But I can't do it. Go. Get out of this town and never come back. If I see you in this town again... I won't be as kind." She said, sheathing her katana again, turning her back to reveal the kanji for 'destroy' on her back, tilting her head down as she began walking away.

Were those...

Was she crying..?

"Come on, Nezuko, calm down!" (Name) smiled, wearing normal clothes as Nezuko ran around happily, her pink kimono fluttering around her as (Name) laughed.

"Nezuko, slow down! Don't hurt yourself!" (Name) laughed, watching as Nezuko began playing around, both having stopped by a playground for Nezuko to play in the night.

While watching Nezuko happily, (Name) didn't notice a shadow slowly creeping behind her.

"Hm. Hey, sword lady, is that your kid?" Luffy asked, watching Nezuko play around as (Name) turned to glare at him.

"Didn't I tell you to never come to this town again? Leave me alone." She said, almost spitting venom before turning to watch Nezuko again.

"Yea, but how can we never come back if we never left?" Luffy asked, acting like a fuckin smart ass.

"Nu huh"

"Fym nu huh🤨"

"Bro jus leave me alone😒"

"Nu huh, STFU🥱"

"Dawg my sister is right there jus leave me alone⁉️🗣️"

"Nah"

Then she was kidnapped with her sister.

Damn.

Real shit.

#nagisa_666 works #mentions of other characters #kny x reader #one piece x reader #monkey d. luffy #cat burglar nami #roronoa zoro #nezuko kamado #mentions of violence #mentions of other charaters #x female reader #one piece x female reader #crossover #ocs

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a-killer-obsession · 6 months ago

Text

Wavelengths [Killer x Reader, Heat x Reader]

🔞 Minors DNI 🔞

A search for a rumored Vegapunk weapon leads the Kid Pirates to an unexpected new crewmate, with a bloodlust that rivals their own and an incredible power.

CW: Please check AO3 for all current warnings, but general warning for smut, slow burn, serious gore, and really dark themes. AFAB reader, she/her pronouns.

Masterlist || AO3 || Chapter 1

Chapter 3 - Shopping Date

Killer learns something surprising, and you get some much needed shopping done.

WC: ~8k

Heat made quick work of the tour, it wasn't like there was that much to see on a ship, even one as large as the Victoria Punk, and he really did have shit to do. Everyone had tasks they were assigned to, everyone pulled their weight on the ship, even if it seemed like it was the cabin boys and henchman doing most of the work. Well, I mean, it kinda was, it's not like you’d ever catch the commanders swabbing the deck, but they had important jobs none-the-less. With a resupply island so close, Heat's work was piling up and he would be no doubt busy for the rest of the day.

During the tour he also explained to you the dynamics of the crew. It was split into three main categories: the top dogs, the henchmen, and the cabin boys.

The job of the cabin boys was clear - they cleaned, they ran errands, and they trained - hoping to one day be considered strong enough to join the henchmen or top dogs. They were all young, ranging from fourteen to nineteen years old. Most were orphans, kids they'd picked up after raids who had a little fight in them and showed promise, most taken against their will (since the Kid pirates were usually the reason why they were orphans) but it worked out. Kid and Killer knew well how hard it is to be an orphan, Heat explained, so they took these boys to save them from starvation and hardship. Even if they fought it now, one day they’d come to see it as a blessing. A few more fiery cabin boys were volunteers, boys who were already street urchins looking for an out, or just boys with straight up anger issues whose parents couldn't handle them. All of the cabin boys slept in one long room on hammocks, each with a small wooden trunk provided to them where they kept their few possessions. They didn't get a share of the loot, so they couldn't afford to buy new things at will, and had to put in a request if they needed anything. Right now there were eight cabin boys on the Victoria Punk, but the room could accommodate ten. Cabin boys didn’t usually join fights, but every now and then one would inevitably be lost during fights at sea, when there was nowhere to run.

The henchmen were next up on the food chain, making the bulk of the crew. They cooked on a rotation, and helped with the harder cleaning jobs like swabbing the deck - which had to be done every single day to keep the wood impregnated with sea water, which kept it from rotting - as well as taking care of supply runs, training the cabin boys, and being expected to have the top dog's backs during fights. They also took care of the ship's maintenance and repairs, as well as hoisting sails and dealing with the anchor and helm, being that most were men who had experience as sailors, often being ex-marines or leftovers from defeated pirate crews. Kid sometimes used his fruit to reel in the anchor, but only if they were in a rush. Henchmen had an unfortunately high turnover rate, as they were usually the first to die in battle, and those that did last were usually promoted to the top dogs. Currently there were sixteen henchmen, split between three rooms that could hold six men a piece, a few beds currently being empty after the fight at the marine base. Their numbers would no doubt be replenished at the next few islands, Kid liked to have a full force of henchmen to keep up his crew’s strength.

Next were the Top Dogs. These included the commanders - Kid, Killer, Heat, Wire, and two others that you hadn't formally met yet - Mohawk and Double. One had been on nightwatch, and thus asleep when you were freed from the mast, and the other on the current watch, which is why neither had been at lunch. You had seen them around the deck though, and picked up their names when they were addressed by henchmen. Heat told you they hadn't known Kid and Killer as long as Wire and himself had, but were still close, trusted advisors and fierce warriors.

Mohawk was a small man compared to the other commanders, who, as the name would suggest, sported a large, vibrantly orange mohawk, the rest of his head being decorated with zigzags neatly shaved into short, unnaturally yellow hair. Despite his height, being only barely taller than you, and a thin build, he was still one hundred percent muscle, with speed and a short blade known as a falcata being his weapons of choice. He seemed to have a short temper, and usually wore a setup of head to toe leather decorated with metal spikes, even in hot weather.

Double was his near opposite, being just as tall and broad as Kid, but he lacked visible muscle, instead it was hidden under a thick layer of fat - hence the less than kind nickname that he had come to embrace. He was a sniper, very rarely ever caught in the heat of battle. He usually stayed far from the field, or up in the crow's nest, covering the other commanders’ backs with a sharp eye and a deadly precision that could rival Yasopp of the Red Haired pirates. He had a vibrant head of green hair, almost neon, which he kept tied in a tight man bun. Like Kid, he always had a set of goggles on him, presumably to protect his vision so as not to be caught weakened by the environment during battle, though he preferred to let them hang around his neck most of the time. Like the majority of the Kid pirates his closet seemed to consist of mostly blacks, as well as some dark forest greens, and his outfit was usually made up of some sort of cropped shirt and baggy pants, tucked into tall heeled boots. Despite the nickname, it was clear he felt no shame about his size, and was just as strong as the other commanders when it came down to it.

The rest of the top dogs were made up of promoted henchmen who had proven themselves to be strong fighters and had made their way up the ranks through hard work. They were known as the officers, and were in charge of the day-to-day running of the ship, keeping the henchmen and cabin boys in line so the commanders could focus on the more important shit. When battles happened they were usually on the front line, right behind the commanders, and were all dangerous men with a heavy bloodlust.

Currently, including the four commanders and you - who was classified as a commander, as per your demands - there were eleven top dogs. Kid and Killer had their own rooms, as you had seen on the tour, with their own private bathrooms you were told. The other four commanders were split between two shared rooms with a shared bathroom between the four of them. The remaining four, sans you, shared one room, and shared a communal bathroom with the henchmen and cabin boys. Then there was yourself, who currently resided in what was formerly a storage room where Heat had ended the tour, and would be sharing a bathroom with the other commanders. It still meant sharing a bathroom with four men, but it was better than sharing with the henchmen.

Everyone on the ship pulled their weight, even if it didn't seem like it outside of battle. Obviously the henchmen and cabin boys were always hard at work, but the top dogs also held their own. The officers took care of the day-to-day work, but the commanders also had important jobs to do. The first job, shared among all of the top dogs, was the watch. There was always a man in the crow's nest, regardless of the weather, whether it be out at sea or docked. The watch was rotated three times a day, in eight hour shifts, swapping at six in the morning, two o'clock, and ten o'clock. The importance of the watch couldn't be understated, being the first line of defense against rival crews, marines and seakings, so it was only entrusted to the top dogs. As annoying as it was, they didn’t trust the henchmen to not fall asleep on the job.

Each of the commanders had specific roles on the ship as well. Heat was the commander in charge of most consumable supplies. It was his job to make sure the infirmary was well stocked, the shipwright team had everything they needed, even the toilet paper was under his domain. If a cabin boy needed something, it was him they pleaded their case to. Which was probably in their best interest - Heat was a bit of a softy and hardly ever denied a request. His job consisted mostly of running between the various teams of henchmen and officers to make lists, and making sure someone was assigned to procure all of the necessary items.

He worked closely with Wire, who was in charge of the money. He made sure everything was budgeted for and let the captain know when a raid was needed to keep up with costs. Heat and Wire spent a lot of time negotiating supplies, if a request was denied it was usually because of Wire. He also took care of the ship's records, keeping track of all supplies, loot, and money that moved on and off the ship. He was often found in the navigation room where he kept a desk and several filing cabinets full of well organized records. You’d barely seen him over the last week, but you realised after Heat’s explanation that it was probably because the crew had taken in a great deal of loot from the marine base, so he’d likely been taking all his time taking inventory of it.

Killer was in charge of food. Heat told you, much to your surprise, that Killer actually really enjoyed cooking, and often cooked for the commanders, it was somewhat of a hobby for him. Since he spent more time in the kitchen than any other commander, and had far more knowledge about cooking, he was more than happy to work out the food roster with the officer in charge of the kitchen, since he could work in his own preferences. Food was planned months in advance, since there was never a promise of when the next resupply would be. Even if the map claimed to have a town on an upcoming island, they could never be sure that it hadn't been raided or destroyed before their arrival, so it was important to be prepared, lest they starve at sea. Water was taken care of by a filtration system, stolen from the marines, and one of the other officers was in charge of its upkeep as part of his managing the maintenance of the ship.

Mohawk, despite his short temper, was actually the ship's doctor. He didn't actually have a medical degree, but he had been saved from a life as a street urchin in his youth by a kind doctor, and trained under him. He would have gone to medical school, but he unfortunately suffered from dyslexia and was unable to pass the entry exam because of it. He wanted so badly to be a doctor though, and without a medical degree even the marines also wouldn't accept him. So when the opportunity to join an upstart pirate crew as the ship doctor arose, he quickly accepted, as a means to fulfill his dreams. As the ship's doctor he was in charge of the infirmary as well, and made sure it was well stocked, being that the Kid pirates were always running face first into fights.

Double was the navigator, and thus could usually be found pouring over maps in the navigation room. When he wasn't there, he was at the helm, preferring to steer the ship himself lest some idiot henchman put them off course. He'd spent most of his teen years sailing on his own on a small boat in the South Blue, so even though helmsman was his preferred job, navigation skills had been a must have. It was for these skills that Kid had let him live when he'd found himself on the gang-ridden island where the other commanders resided, the last piece of the puzzle the Kid pirates had needed to go out to sea.

Lastly, there was Kid, who at first glance seemed like he did shit all, but it was his job to make sure everyone else was doing their jobs. He worked closely with all of the top dogs, keeping everyone on the same page and making the big decisions about where they were headed. He was also in charge of weapons, and could usually be found tinkering with new ideas for them in his workshop. His workshop was completely off limits to everyone except Killer, unless specifically invited in. And of course, it was his dream to become King of the Pirates that kept the whole crew moving forward, giving them all a common goal.

As soon as the tour was over, you had laid down for a nap, your sore body begging for the chance to lay flat after a week strapped to the mast. The crew hadn't expected to be converting a storage room for you when they landed at the marine base, so the room right now only consisted of an extra bed, hastily stolen from the marines before they left the island, and a small wooden box to act as a side table. It was more than enough for you though, after spending years in cells that had little more than a thin, dirty, sorry excuse for a mattress on the floor, if you were lucky, and a bucket or hole in the floor to piss in. Hell, this room even had a small porthole, what a luxury. A pillow and blanket had also been thrown on the bed, clearly stolen as well given the small repeating pattern of marine logos on them, but it was better than nothing.

You kicked off your shoes and flopped onto the bed, quickly getting comfortable on your back - not by choice but because of your mask limiting your ability to lay on your side or front. It’d been a long time since you had to sleep in it, you’d have to get used to it again. You wondered if Killer had the same issues. Without the mask, the overwhelming sounds around you would be too much to fall asleep. You made a mental note to find a piece of seastone to hold so you could sleep without it. Regardless, you had the best sleep she'd had in years. Heat tried to wake you for dinner, but you really did sleep like the dead, and unlike Killer he wasn't about to kick to rouse you, so he let you be.

You woke up the next morning in what was probably the best mood you had ever been in. For the first time since eating your devil fruit, you had woken up feeling truly free. You could leave whenever you wanted, but it was your choice to stay, and today, for the first time in your life, you would be allowed to choose your own clothes - the thought made you giggle to yourself with excitement. Your clothes had always either been picked out by your mother or the marines, with the exception of the jacket Atlas had given you. Your mind was racing with the possibilities and you thought about every fashionable woman you'd ever seen, though the last time you were able to walk the streets of any town was many years ago, fashion had no doubt changed since then. You would have Heat with your though, and he seemed like a fashionable guy, right? With his cool corset thingy and his tattoos. Yeah, Heat could help, definitely.

You slid out of bed and stretched, cringing as your knees audibly popped, years of cold cells and a week on the mast hadn't been kind to your joints. You straightened your mask and pulled down your borrowed shirt. The sky was green through the porthole, sunrise. Ah, your marine-built body clock was back in action apparently. You weren't at all surprised you'd slept through dinner, your body no doubt needed the reset. With your heart fluttering with excitement you left the room, making your way first to the commander's bathroom to pee and straighten your hair as best you could without a brush, then out to the deck. To be fair, you'd been using the ol’ finger comb for years, so it's not like your hair was ever that tidy to begin with.

You made your way to the front of the ship, where a large dinosaur skull was mounted. You'd seen several of the commanders sitting on it over the last week, but never anyone of a lower rank. You were, however, also technically a commander now, so you decided to climb on top to sit cross legged on the top of the skull, spotting the tiny dot on the horizon straight ahead that you assumed must be the island they were coming up on. You tuned your visor to see under the water, scanning quickly for seakings and thankfully finding none, though a large manta ray was dancing not far off the ship, and you watched its graceful movements under the water for a short while before setting your mask back to the default settings.

You turned your attention to the ship itself, stretching and exercising your devil fruit to scan it. You'd been bound in seastone for many years, you needed to practice as much as you could now that you knew you would have regular food to keep up your energy, so you could get back into your best fighting shape. Your job on this ship was as a human weapon, and you took that role seriously. You'd pull your weight, just like everyone else did, and prove you belonged here. You would protect this ship, and its crew. And kill lots of marines, of course. You made a mental note to ask someone to spar with you so you could get back in shape soon, though after the fight at the marine base you knew you were at least less rusty than you thought.

You closed your eyes, building a picture in your mind of the ship and its inhabitants, like a three dimensional schematic, sensing the different levels of vibrations from the molecules of all the things that made the Victoria Punk. It was something you found easier to do in your mind, rather than simply with your eyes and the right visor setting. It was easier to focus on the details like this, instead of just one singular view. You could see the cabin boys in their hammocks, a few were already quietly waking and sliding out of them. You could see the henchmen, all deep asleep save for one. Judging by the vibrations, you guessed a few were snoring. One was definitely jacking off in the bathroom, you watched out of curiosity for a moment but he didn't last much longer. ‘Boo, waste of a show’ you thought. The commanders and officers were all asleep as well, except for Wire, who seemed to be reading in bed.

You moved your mental image along to the front end of the ship, where Kid and Killer's rooms were, as well as the navigation room. Most of the other rooms were held towards the back of the ship, like the galley and officer's rooms, or under deck, which is where the henchmen and cabin boys slept, as well as most of the storage. Kid was sleeping soundly in his bed, notably without his metal arm, which appeared to be propped up against the bedside table. Killer's bed was empty, ‘how curious’.

Come to think of it, the officers and commanders were all in their beds, which meant Killer must be on watch. You scanned the crows nest - ‘ah, there he is’. The telltale change in vibrations that indicated his mask made it easy to identify him. He was definitely watching you, so you turned your head, looking over your shoulder up at him. You stared at each other for a moment, before he cracked at the strangely intimate staredown and looked away. He couldn't see your eyes, and you couldn't see his, but there was a weird mutual understanding in the glance. Respect, maybe? You couldn't name the feeling, and neither could he. Whatever it was, being caught staring at you made his heart beat funny, and he was deeply uncomfortable.

You let out a heavy exhale, releasing the visualization to come back to reality. You would need to practice more, definitely. It was a skill that would no doubt be useful to sharpen, but it was taking far more energy right now than it should. For now, you returned your attention to the horizon, focusing on the way the island, still just a speck on the horizon, slowly got bigger as you approached.

You stayed on the figurehead til the morning watch came to free Killer, and he found himself approaching you before he realized what his feet were doing. He leaned against the railing beside the skull and looked out to the sea where you were looking. It'd been about an hour since you woke up. He was an early riser regardless of the night watch, but he was surprised to see you up so early. A lot of the ex-marine crewmates woke early, but it'd been a long time since you were in service, he thought you would've grown out of the routine by now. Maybe it wasn't too surprising though, given you'd apparently slept for near fifteen hours. It was about fucking time you woke up, Killer didn't like people skipping meals so he wasn't at all impressed when you slept through dinner. Especially considering how emaciated you were, you needed every meal you could get if you were gonna get back in a good condition.

“Morin’ Killy,” you said, leaning back on your palms and turning your head to smile at him. His steps were near silent, but you'd felt the change in the air as he approached.

“Don't call me that,” he replied in his usual flat baritone.

“Grump,” you mumbled.

“You're up early,” he said, it was basically a question.

“I usually wake this early,” you replied, “I like sunrise. It's pretty, don't you think?”

The sun was just over the horizon now, almost directly in front of the ship, the sky now a dull orange that turned to a pale blue, the clouds painted ochre with heavy shadows. It reflected beautifully on the slightly choppy seas of the autumn island you were approaching, the air brisk and making the skin on your bare legs prickle with goosebumps. You didn't shiver though, your jacket keeping your upper half warm and the occasional use of your powers keeping your legs from freezing off.

Killer looked out at the sunrise. It was beautiful, to be frank, but he wasn't one to admit to thinking something was pretty. He just replied with a gruff grunt, before turning to leave for the galley.

“I'm gonna get started with breakfast,” he explained, then paused before speaking on a whim, “did you want to come help me?”

Your agreement with Kid was that you wouldn't be subjected to chores, but if Killer was cooking that meant he was doing it by choice, and only for the commanders. So really it wasn't a chore, it was helping with a hobby. You felt warmed to be invited to join him, and you quickly made up your mind to accept, hoping it would help you make friends here.

“Yeah okay,” you replied cheerfully, shimmying off the skull, “I don't know how to cook though”

“Really? You've never cooked? Or just shit at it?” He asked curiously as you walked towards the galley - not really together, it was more him walking at his own quick pace, and you almost jogging behind to keep up.

“You already know my past, when would I have ever learned?” you replied, a touch annoyed.

“Ah, right,” he said, feeling a little guilty, “sorry. I can teach you, if you'd like”

“Yeah, I think that'd be nice,” you replied. In truth, it was best you learned, in case you ever decided to leave the Kid pirates. It was also a good excuse to spend time with Killer. It seemed like he respected you, and was expected to show a certain level of civility considering your commander status, but that didn't mean he trusted you, or that you trusted him. But trust was important on a crew, you needed to know he'd have your back, and he needed to know you'd have his, so spending time together would help build that trust.

You followed him quietly into the galley, through to a back room past the serving counters that held the kitchen. A few henchmen and the officer in charge of the kitchen were already working on breakfast in the industrial setup, but there was a corner that was untouched. It seemed more homely, the equipment there all on a smaller, less commercial scale, more like what you'd find in a regular, domestic kitchen. It seemed to be Killer's domain, as he made a beeline for it, pulling out pans and ingredients from a fridge.

He pulled out a cookbook from a cabinet and handed it to you before returning to his rummaging. “Find me the recipe for breakfast muffins, and then get out all the ingredients it lists”

He didn't notice the way you stared blankly at the book before opening it, carefully observing the pictures on each page. He was halfway through frying his first batch of bacon before he realised you hadn't moved. “Just find it in the contents page at the front and flick to that page,” he explained. He was trying very hard to be patient.

His patience wore thin when several minutes later you still hadn't pulled out any ingredients, and he turned to yell at you, a deep pre-scorn breath already taken, before noticing the sour expression on your face and putting two-and-two together with a stark realization, the breath he'd taken let out with a heavy exhale.

“You can't read,” he stated.

“Sorry…” you whispered. You felt utterly stupid, and put the book down on the counter in defeat, trying your best not to look at him. He thought hard about what you'd said earlier - when had you had the opportunity to learn to cook? Similarly, when had you had the opportunity to learn to read? He felt wracked with guilt now, it wasn't your fault nobody had taught you to read, and you were clearly embarrassed about it. One conversation and he'd already managed to accidentally hit a sore spot with you, he felt awful about it. He wondered how many other basic skills you'd never been taught.

“It's okay,” he said, softer than he expected it to come out. He put a hand to your waist and gently pulled you in front of the hob, handing your the tongs he'd been prodding the bacon with, “Here, why don't you come cook the bacon instead, just keep shifting it and flipping them every now and then so it doesn't stick, till it looks like the ones I already cooked”

You graciously accepted the change in task while he turned his attention to the book, quickly flicking to the page he needed and scanning the ingredients, before starting to retrieve them from the fridge and cabinets. You were quiet, far quieter than he expected, it made him uneasy.

“You shouldn't feel ashamed of it,” he said as he measured out several cups of flour into a sieve, “those marine pigs should have taught you. Selfish pricks. It's not too late to learn though. We can teach you”

“You don't have to do that,” you replied, a sadness in your voice that made your sound like a kicked puppy, “that sounds like a lot of extra work for all of you, I don't need to be able to read to kill”

He paused. It dawned on him that your whole life you'd been treated like nothing but an object - whether that be as a weapon, or a warm body to fuck. Had anyone ever treated you with any ounce of kindness since being separated from your mother? Those marine cunts really did a number on you, you were somehow even worse off than he'd initially thought. He knew your life had been fucked, but it seemed like every conversation with you revealed another awful part of your backstory, and he wondered how deep the hole went.

“You're more than just a weapon,” he said, collecting some of the bacon he'd cooked earlier to dice up for the muffins, “you're a human. You're allowed to have your own wants and needs. Do you want to learn to read?”

You paused your prodding and looked at him. He returned your glance, your mouth making a tight line as you visibly tried not to cry. “Yes…” you said quietly.

“Then I'll teach you,” he said, returning to the bacon, “it's not a big deal, you'll be more useful to us anyway if you can read”

There was a long, pregnant pause while you tried to avoid the whole topic of your lack of basic skills, and while Killer swam around in his guilt. Not to mention, he had no idea how the fuck to teach someone to read. Maybe he would ask Wire, he taught Killer and Kid to read after all.

“... I think this bacon is done,” you said anxiously, trying to change the subject. He slid a little closer to look at the pan, his arm brushing against yours in the process. You flinched a little at the unexpected contact.

“Yeah, it looks good,” he said, quickly moving away before the accidental touching could register properly in his brain. You were quiet again while you removed the bacon from the pan, holding each piece over the pan for a few moments the way you'd seen him do earlier, so the excess oil could drip off.

“Hey Killer?” you almost whispered, staring at the plate of bacon, not quite sure what to do with yourself now.

“Mm?”

“Could I maybe borrow some more clothes?” you asked nervously, “just till I have a chance to buy my own today. I was hoping to have a shower before I disembark”

“Yeah that's fine,” he replied, pouring the finished muffin batter in to a greased muffin tray, “I'll grab you something after breakfast”

“Thanks,” you mumbled, before excusing yourself to go sit at the commander's table, not really in the mood to talk or help cook anymore.

Your mood picked back up once Heat woke up and joined you at the commander's table, just as excited as you about your shopping trip. The rest of the commanders joined not long after, with Kid arriving just in time for Killer to finish cooking. It was almost like Killer knew exactly when to expect him and had timed his cooking accordingly.

Kid slammed down a dagger and thigh holster on the table in front of you as he sat down, digging straight into the freshly baked breakfast muffins, scrambled eggs and bacon Killer put in front of him.

“Oh, my knife!” you exclaimed, immediately working on attaching the purple leather holster to your thigh. You picked up the dagger and inspected it, it was cleaner and sharper than it had been in years, the delicate floral engravings on the handle now completely free of tarnish. “You cleaned it for me? It looks brand new!”

“It's a well made blade,” Kid said with a mouth full of food, “real fucking shame those marine cunts didn't keep it maintained”

“Well, thank you,” you said with a genuine smile, “I appreciate it, truly”

“Consider it a welcome gift,” he said, brushing it off. He turned to Heat, who had not long finished his breakfast. “Make sure you get her a second weapon today, you know how I don't like not having back-ups. And make sure you gets some warm shit, there's some winter islands coming up, lanky bitch will freeze to death without a proper coat”

“Oi, what's wrong with my jacket?” you pouted, “I'll have you know this is Vegapunk tech, it's more insulating than anything you own. I could do with some pants though, I don't know how much longer I can survive in Killer's shirts and skivvies”

Kid spit out his food in surprise, looking with amused astonishment between you and Killer, “You're wearing Killer's underwear? That's fucking hilarious”

“You thought I was just freeballing it under here?” you laughed.

“A man can dream,” he grinned, “but Killer's undies is definitely ruining the fantasy”

“Damn, what a shame,” you smirked, “well, there goes my chances to be queen of the pirates. Killer, you need a duchess? I mean I'm assuming you'll make him a duke, right? I better invest early”

“I have a position open for you,” Heat toyed.

You and Kid only had to glance at each other before you both erupted in a fit of laughter and in perfect unison yelled “I'M SURE YOU WANT PLENTY OF POSITIONS”

Heat slammed his head on the table with a long groan while you and the captain almost died of laughter, Kid very nearly choking on a muffin. “I walked into that one,” Heat mumbled into the table. Double and Mohawk didn't quite understand the inside joke, but were losing their minds nonetheless. Wire had a shit eating grin on his face at Heat's expense and Killer's shoulders were shimmying in silent laughter.

“Fuck you're a laugh,” Kid laughed, finally catching his breath and smacking you on the shoulder playfully, that was definitely going to bruise, “spend whatever you want today, the log pose will reset tomorrow morning so make sure you get everything you need. I'll hand Heat the money before we dock”

Killer started to stand, as entertaining as this was, he needed to get some sleep before they docked, “I'll leave clothes for you in your room” he told you as he started to leave.

“Thanks Killy!” you shouted after him.

“Don't call me that,” he grumbled as he left.

The ship came into port not long after breakfast, well ahead of schedule thanks to the strong winds around the autumn island. The ship was moored at a small secluded bay, about a fifteen minute walk from the main town, where a small dock had been built on a pleasant stretch of sandy beach. It was far too cold for swimming, but the weather was set to be fine for a bonfire, and there were plenty of trees near the beach to build one. Usually they would have no problem with dropping anchor at the main dock of a small island like this, but given the plans for partying later, they wanted a more private spot.

Heat could barely keep up with you, excitedly skipping along the small worn down path that led to the town ahead of the rest of the group, which was made up of mostly those who had supplies to buy, including most of the commanders. Double wasn't keen on the fifteen minute walk each way, so he'd volunteered to stay with the ship. As soon as the town came into view you were grabbing Heat's hand and dragging him along, anxious to get started.

The first shop you went to was for furniture. Kid expected his commanders to be kept to a certain level of comfort above the other crewmates, to give the henchmen and cabin boys something to work towards, so a small stolen bed and a wooden crate wasn't going to do. They'd come to this store first so henchmen could collect the furniture once they'd rented a cart, so they could bring it all back to the ship and set it up while you were still out.

It was tricky, you'd never even considered buying furniture before and had no idea what you even liked. There weren't any options at these stores along the lines of ‘gross, moldy, incredibly thin mattress with questionable stains’. Thankfully the room was small, all you needed to choose was a bed and mattress, a bedding set, a side table, a chest of drawers, and perhaps some curtains and a few decorations. The decorations for the most part could wait though, they'd probably come more naturally as things caught your eye during the day.

The easiest thing to start with was the mattress. you took your time laying on each of the display options, ultimately picking the hardest one you could find. After years of sleeping on a thin foam pad you simply couldn't get comfortable on a soft bed, though even the hardest option was far softer than what you were used to and softer even than the worn down, stolen mattress you'd slept on last night.

Next came the furniture. If you picked a set it would save you making three individual choices for the bed, side table and dresser. The island was well known for its wood production, so the store featured many finely crafted sets of different wood types to choose from. A purpleheart set caught your eye, with floral carvings embellishing the drawer fronts and headboard. It was probably garish by normal standards and made for a little girl, but you'd never really had a chance at a childhood so who could fault you for wanting it. Heat seemed to approve of the set, saying it suited you, and you picked out a set of yellow floral bedding with a soft, downy comforter to match it.

The only thing left now were the decorations. You wandered around the entire store, followed closely by a sales associate who was noting down everything you were ordering, almost salivating at the commission fee he was going to get from this massive order. You had no idea you’d picked out some of the most expensive items, given you couldn't read, but the Kid pirates had money to spare looting the base they found you on, so Heat hadn't stopped you. With his help and suggestions you picked out a decently sized round mirror with a purple heart frame to match the other furniture, a small brass lamp that was shaped like a droopy flower, some plain cream coloured curtains on a brass rod, and a small, round, lilac rug with a faint floral pattern in slightly darker purple.

Happy with your choices, the sales associate totaled up the amount and Heat handed over a thick stack of money, the sales associate thanking him profusely and quickly setting off to yell at some other employees about getting the order ready for collection. A successful first stop all in all.

Next, Heat took you to a home goods store. You mostly just wandered around, picking up little trinkets here and there to decorate your room, but Heat made sure you picked out several spare sets of sheets, towels, hand cloths and a practical looking duffel bag for occasions when the commanders stayed at inns. He also made sure you got a laundry basket and a lockable box for valuables, in case a sticky fingered cabin boy happened to be cleaning your room.

The next store you went to was for weapons. Being trained by the marines for so long meant you were proficient with many weapons, but you preferred knives and swords since you could use your devil fruit to heat or cool the blade. The old man who worked at the store helped you pick out a katana with a beautiful wavy hamon and a handle wrapped in dark purple cord. You were disappointed that they didn't have anything in the way of fun coloured holsters, so you selected a basic tan coloured belt, which as an added bonus helped cinch Killer's baggy shirt you were wearing, and after Heat haggled for a good price you slipped the new sword in to your belt. You doubted it'd get much use but Kid was right, it was good to have a backup, and a dagger was easy to lose in the chaos of battle. You hoped to eventually find a cross body holster in a colour to match your thigh holster, but that could wait for now.

Before leaving the store a thought occurred to you, and you asked the old man if they sold any seastone. He hummed to himself in thought before disappearing into a back storage room, reappearing shortly after with a small, worn down cardboard box and placing it on the counter. Inside was a variety of seastone pieces, all raw, ranging in size and shape.

“I was going to make weapons from these, but my arthritis got the better of me,” he explained, “take whatever you want, they're not of much use to me now anyway”

You rummaged through the box and selected a small piece of seastone, chucking it in the pocket of your jacket, before thanking the man and leaving. It was small enough to hold in a closed palm, with edges that had been smoothed by time, perfect for your needs. Heat didn't know what you wanted with a piece of seastone, he didn't know a single devil fruit user who wanted seastone, but he handed the man a tip anyway to thank him for his kindness before following after you.

Heat had wisely planned to get all the most important shopping out of the way before you started on clothes, which would no doubt take the entire afternoon, so he dragged you away from a small boutique to go to a basic grocery store. There he made sure you picked out all your basics, like hygiene products. You spent a fair while standing in front of the shampoos and body washes, sniffing each of them before deciding on a matching set of mango and coconut milk scented washes, and a fluffy purple loofah puff. You also spent a fair while standing in front of the hair removal products, wondering whether that was something you should do. This whole time your legs had been out and fully forested - not that your thin, pale, lavender hairs were much of an eyesore. You'd never considered it a choice before, you’d often been forced to wax by perverted commanders but it'd never been your choice. Ultimately you grabbed a bright pink razor, deciding that maybe you enjoyed smooth, shaved skin, as well as grabbing a pack of pads. You only ever needed one or two each cycle given the way you used your devil fruit, and it'd probably be months before it was back, but it didn't hurt to have them on hand.

After begging and pleading, Heat also allowed you to also buy a serious amount of candy and chocolates. You were going to get fucked up on sugar and artifical colours tonight and nobody was going to stop you. You also picked up a hairbrush and a significant amount of hair ties and bobby pins. You had a specific way you liked to do your hair, back before your imprisonment, but you were always losing your accessories.

By now several hours had passed, and both of you were exhausted from shopping, with the hardest part still to come, so you set out to find lunch. You'd both just grabbed several takeaway containers of food from a street vendor and were looking for somewhere to sit when a snotty looking blonde girl bumped into Heat, very purposely making him drop his food.

“Oops, sorry freak!” she laughed, her boyfriend and the other couple they were with snickering behind her, “it's fine though right? I don't see any brains in the mess, so you probably weren't going to eat it anyway right?” she looked at you with a snarky smirk, “or maybe it was for your skinny little whore?”

You were about to rip her head clean off her body when Heat grabbed your arm to calm you. “It's not worth it,” he whispered, his eyes somehow looking even sadder than usual, “we've still got plenty, let's go sit and eat before my feet fall off.”

He completely ignored the group's continued slew of snide remarks as you walked away, dragging you, almost feral, behind him to a quiet bench that looked out over the water. He basically had to force you to sit, still entirely intent on going back and beating the shit out of her.

“What are we doing? We should just kill that bitch,” you growled. He opened the food container in your hand and shoved a fork in it.

“Eat,” he said plainly.

“Heaaaaaat let me go kill her! It'll be so quick I promise!” He couldn't help but think it was cute that you were begging to kill someone the same way you'd begged for candy only half an hour ago. It was sweet, in a fucked up, Kid Pirates kind of way.

“If you kill her it'll make a scene and then it'll be a whole thing and we won't get to shop anymore,” he explained, grabbing one of the unspoilt containers you'd been carrying, “it's fine, I'll just kill her tomorrow if I see her around”

“Fineee,” you pouted, shoving a forkful of fried noodles in your mouth, “but take me with you, I wanna see her bald after I fry her hair follicles. What the fuck did she mean about brains?”

“She was implying I look like a zombie,” he explained, eating his own food, entirety unbothered. You paused and took a long, hard look at him.

“I don't get it,” you said blankly, “I thought zombies were supposed to be like… all gory and ugly and shit. You're too cute to be a zombie”

“That's sweet of you to say, but I get the zombie comment a lot,” he smiled. He was more than used to it by now, but he liked the way he looked and that was all that mattered, the rude comments didn't really bother him anymore.

“Well, they're blind idiots then,” you said plainly, “and I'll fry ALL of their hair follicles”

“Can you actually do that?” he asked curiously, pointing a fork at you, “why did you buy a razor then?”

“Cos it hurts like a bitch, duh,” you laughed, “I did it once to my cooter cos I got sick of sticking my leg in the air to wax it and I swear I still feel it sometimes”

Heat laughed and tried not to think too hard about your apparently bare pussy. ‘Killer's skivvies, Killer's skivvies, Killer's skivvies’ he repeated to himself to keep his dick calm. Unfortunately he immediately remembered your comments from dinner yesterday about picking out panties, and had to basically stab himself in his leg with the fork he was holding.

“You good Heatie Baby?” you asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Yup,” he wheezed, “perfectly fine, eat your food so we can get moving”

Clothes shopping with a woman who had no idea what she liked ended up being a whole situation, who would have thought. The sales clerks clocked you the second you walked in, and you immediately fell victim to them, ending up with several expensive perfumes, a couple of lipsticks that “made your visor pop”, and a handful of nail polishes in your basket before you'd even reached the clothing section.

Picking out clothes was chaotic, and you had no idea what size you were so you had to pick out several of every item and try on everything before making choices. At Heat's suggestion though, you bought everything in a size too big, knowing that hopefully soon, with proper nutrition, you'd be able to put some weight back on. At some point a sales associate noticed Heat's massive handful of options he was carrying for you, as well as his many other shopping bags, and immediately offered to help (which was definitely absolutely nothing to do with getting a commission bonus, definitely). She ended up being extremely helpful in the end though, procuring a cart and helping you select fashionable items that suited you and worked well with your prized jacket, in your selected size so you didn't have to try on several of each item. She even helped you select several sets of shoes to match, as well as some other smaller accessories like hair barrettes and ribbons, and a few necklaces and bracelets. After spotting your marine tattoo you even helped you find a nicer belt for your weapon, in a purple leather that matched your thigh holster. Still not crossbody like you'd like, but better than the previous tan one. ‘Funny how much sway a tattoo she was forced to get has’ Heat thought to himself.

Heat was especially thankful for the woman's help when they reached the underwear section. She showed Heat the ‘boyfriend seat’ before whisking you away to find your bra size and help you pick out a good amount of sets, as well as several sports bras and some more practical panties. The last thing you needed were some pajamas, and you opted for some dainty negligees and a couple of sets of warmer pajamas for cold nights.

By the time you were done it was late afternoon, and you left the store with a truly ridiculous amount of shopping bags - most of them carried by Heat of course, ever the gentleman that he was. All round though it had been a good day, and Heat had enjoyed spending it with you, even if it meant he was too tired to go chasing whores now. He'd have to wait till the next island to get his dick wet.

[NEXT CHAPTER]

#one piece fanfiction #one piece smut #killer one piece #killer x reader #massacre soldier killer #heat one piece #heat x reader #kid pirates

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gutsandsweets · 1 month ago

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Fictober day 5

Prompt #11; "Well, that worked out great"

Characters: Portgas D. Ace, mentions of Marco and the rest of the Whitebeard pirates

A pebble skipped across the water, staying up top for a few seconds before falling into the depths of the liquid. A few more followed, each varying in how far they went, but they all went further than most could throw them. That was asides from a few duds.

The boy threw a few pebbles up in the air before catching them back into his hand/palm. An exhausted sigh could be heard from the young man as he swung his foot back and forth- although it didn't move too far from its original position. Fish swam out of the way as the rocks were thrown into the water to avoid being hit .

The Moby dick, the Whitebeard pirates ship, had just recently docked on a small island to give the people on it a short break from treading along the ocean. It was pops idea of a small celebration for the win that one of their crewmates had had over a fierceful force of Marines.

Ace sat upon the ledge of a lake, staring into the water. His reflection stared back at him as he did so. Every move the man made was copied exactly by the blueish version of himself.

His eye brows furrowed , and he exaggerated a frown before continuing to look at his reflection to see the effects and how his face looked. He wrinkled his face a bit more, changing the form of his face again and again. Another rock hit the water, creating a tiny ripple. His shape warped and swirled with the water.

He really wanted to eat this piece of meat, but he was not going to go try to find thatch just to cook it. He had no clue whatsoever as to where everyone else could be since he went off on his own. Plus the fact that he was too lazy at the moment. He had attempted to join them in the populated part of the island, but to his dismay, there wasn't much to his interest. Just a few mediocre shops and barely any food good enough to appreciate.. Although ace would typically eat almost anything. The actual problem was that there wasn't any more after the celebration the islands people had just had. So he would settle for sitting near this quaint lake in the further side of the island from them.

Ace took the piece of meat into his hands, rotating and spinning it in his hands as he looked over it. It still looked fresh, he supposed. Hopefully it was still edible, because he really needed something to eat right in this moment. It should be simple enough to cook it on his own considering his devil fruit revolved around fire, right? All he had to do was hold it over his hand and it would cook soon enough..

Ace moved to only holding the stick with one hand. He moved it to where it would be a bit above the fire when he coerced it through his palms, forming flames and started to let them rise. He let his guard down partially as he focused on heating up the cold slab of meat, keeping his eyes squinted as his tongue poked out of his mouth to the side in an act of concentration.

He hasn't yet realized it, but one of the closest trees to him was very old and dying. The recent winds and precipitation hadn't helped, and the limbs had been cracking and slipping off.

As he sat near the pond and watched as the food he held had slowly gained a dark brown color, a decently small sized branch broke off. As it fell to the ground near ace, the crack and loud thump of it hitting the ground close to him caused him to lose control of the flames ingulfing his hands. They grew brighter and more dangerously wild, completely covering the piece of meat. His eyes widened as he tries desperately to slow the flow of his flames. It took a few seconds filled with panic, but eventually they came to a full stop. Ace turned the meat in his hands, inspecting what it looked like now/how it was.

Instead of a mouth-opening, drool inducing treat, a charred and ashy disaster was what he held.

Well shit. What was he supposed to do now? This was just great.

Maybe it was still redeemable? He was sure if he peeled off some of the burnt spots that it would taste alright, surely.

Surely enough, just as ace started to peel off the darkest parts of the skin, his ahdns slipped and cause the meat to fall out of them, hitting the ground near the edge of the lake. His eyes widened in shock and as he went to go reach for it before something else happened to it, the meat fell into the water of the lake.

Ace let out an annoyed sigh. He looked blankly down into the water, watching as it continued to sink to the bottom of the lake. Why did things like this *always* have to happen to him out of all people? The poor guy was just tired and hungry- but now there his food was, getting all soggy in the middle of the water. Not only had he just burnt it.. But now most likely made it completely inedible. His luck was just that bad, huh?

Aquatic creatures swam all around the meat bone, some trying to take a nibble out of it. Ace scooted closer to the edge of where he sat, angrily splashing the water with his hands or feet. The fish and such rushed to get away as they felt the disturbance to their home.

Starting to feel the affects of the water already, ace recoiled back and shook his hand to rid it of as much water as possible. It wasn't as bad as the sea or falling in it- no. More just like a faint tingly feeling that was still unpleasant.

He bring his foot up and planted it on the solid ground as he stood up. Using his hands to dust himself off, he looked around for anything to help try and retrieve his lost food. He thought about what could work. Glancing back down to the sunken meat, he squinted his eyes at it. It didn't look like it was too far down.. Thankfully is was just a small pond, so it wasn't very deep. The amount was more shallow, maybe a few inches or so, at most a foot and a half.

Plus there was a few things close to here that he could try. He tapped his fingers on his legs as he tried to figure out which would be the better ideas out of them. He could try to use some fallen tree limbs, use a cup or barrel since there were a few broken pieces nearby, use a fishing pole, continue trying to grab it with his bare hands,..

'Might as well just go adhead and try them all' he thought.

He started with a broken barrel he had found close to him, laying down on his stomach on the ground and scooting closer to the water. He bent over the ledge, sinking the wood into the pond. The second his hand begun to be submerged in the water, he retracted it and dropping the broken piece in the process. Touching the water wasn't a good solution at all, it seemed.. Oh well. That immediately ruled out one of his other ideas of grabbing it with only his hands. Sticks had no chance of working since they were all so fragile and soggy. The only idea he had left was a fishing pole. That didn't seem too promising, but it was the only shot he himself had as a devil fruit user..

A pile of supplies had coincidentally been left by someone in the end of the trees that led to the free area, one of which consisted of some dishing supplies as well. Forcing the container open to grab anything that could help. There were a few pouches of fishing bait, clean and polished hooks, line for repairs, but not much else. Picking up the fishing rod itself to inspect it closer revealed that it was in semi-decent condition. Although, the hook was starting to rust. Ace chose a new hook from the plastic box to attatch to the rod instead. This was supposed to retrieve his food, so it should be clean to ensure that he wouldn't get tetanus or something similar of the sorts if he ate the food.

He pushed on his legs to elevate/come to a stand again, clutching the rod in one hand and leaving his other to the side. He walked the distance between the water and forest again, leaning over the edge to check and make sure the food was still there.

Sure enough, it was right where he had left it. No fish or anything surrounded it surprisingly with how long he had left it alone. He adjusted the long pole in his hands, swinging it to get the hook closer to the target spot. It landed on the water, barely dipping in with a splat.

Well, that didn't work too well.

Maybe if he tried it again?

Ace reeling in the line with a sigh, hoping he could find a way to get this to work. He propelled it forward again, landing it around the same place. It went further down into the water, but still didn't reach the bottom. A loud groan could be heard from far in the forest as he repeated the action again. And again.. And once more.. Yet again.. ..

A few hours later, Marco found ace, who was still trying to find a way to get to his food in any way he could.

A/N: hello to any body reading this!! I'm so so sorry for all the last works, I've had most of them completed but my dumb self decided to fall asleep before I could finish the promote, so I'm a bit behind. I'm working it all rn!

#fictober24 #fictober 2024 #portgas d ace #ace #one piece #one piece fandom #one piece fanfiction #fanfictions #story #short story #marco the phoenix #thatch one piece

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defensenow · 2 days ago

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blackseafoam · 1 month ago

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Healed Wrong

Part 1 of 4

WC: 2349

Warnings: Character death, near-drowning, self-harm (kinda)

Summary: Clone Troopers Flinch, Sway and Ash are freshly deployed on the swamp planet of Dokmur to guard a republic base. Things are uneventful, but danger lurks in the nearby flooded forest.

Heeere's my clone OC, Flinch's (CT-8424) backstory! Probably what he was retelling to ulvi in this comic. Takes place toward the very end of the war, weeks before order 66 and the fall of the Jedi.

Whumptober 2024. Day 06 l not realizing they're injured l unhealthy coping mechanisms l healed wrong l "it's not my blood"

The battlefield was a swamp, and forces on both sides struggled to maneuver. The battles were hell, the boots were constantly filled with water, and the insects bit through every gap in the armor.

Flinch, Ash, and Sway were as shiny as shiny could get, assigned as warm bodies protecting the perimeter of a base hardly anyone was using.

“I think the Sergeant has lost his mind.” Sway huffed as he scanned the tree lines

“What makes you say that?” Ash stood at his right.

“He’s got us running around all over the place, checking the weak points in the wall. Shouldn’t we just be patrolling around the whole perimeter in a circle? We’d end up wasting way less time that way.”

Ash Shrugged. “Maybe we should ask him why?”

“Hell no, questioning a superior officer? Are you serious?”

Ash shrugged again. “Maybe if you frame it like a suggestion? Or curiosity?”

“Not with Sergeant Kip, he’d have us court martialed for tying our shoes wrong.”

“Our boots don’t have laces…” Ash‘s comment trailed off as another figure started running toward them from the sentry threshold in the force field which surrounded the base.

“Late again?” Ash chided, Flinch didn’t need to see his face to know there was a cocky smirk beneath that helmet.

Flinch slowed to a jog as he closed the distance. “I left my bucket in the refresher right before someone went in and took FOREVER to finish up!” He complained with a huff.

Sway and Ash laughed

“You’re a mess.” Sway punched at Flinch in the arm.

“OW! Dammit Sway it’s still healing!” Flinch reflexively grabbed his right bicep where his fresh fist print tattoo was marinating under a bacta patch.

“What’s the point of getting a tattoo no one will see?” Ash tilted his head, the middle of his flame tattoo that led from behind his ear to his collarbone just barely visible.

“At least mine isn’t a boat.” Flinch's defensive glare was so potent it shot through his visor.

“What’s wrong with a boat?” Sway scoffed.

“Why do you even like them? They’re useless.”

“They’re efficient… and poetic.”

The patrol went on as usual, boring. The three took turns, rotating one person at the post and two roving, none of them ever out of sight of each other.

Flinch and Sway walked their route, their conversation dwindling as they grew hungrier through their long shift. They slowed at the treeline.

“Our relief must be overdue.” Sway complained.

Flinch glanced at the sky. “Nah, we’ve still got an hour and a half.”

“How do you know that?”

“The moons, see? That larger one hasn’t crossed the path of the smaller one yet, they follow the same path every day.”

“How is it you have the concentration to know where the celestial bodies are at all times, but no focus when it comes to keeping your kit together?”

Flinch shrugged, looking into the woods. The stagnant water rippling between the mangrove trees that stood like sentinels in the swamp. “What is that?”

Sway followed his gaze. The still water had begun to ripple. “Probably a fish or something, let’s stay focused Flinch.” He lightly cuffed Flinch’s left, untattooed arm. The pair kept walking the treeline. The pair cast a cautious glance toward Ash, a hundred yards away now, dutifully watching his patrolling brothers with his rifle at the ready.

Flinch and Sway were at the edge of their assigned area, about to turn back the way they came. Flinch looked up into the tree that marked their border, its base was submerged in the water here at the edge of the swamp.The branches were tall and spindly with myriads of tiny leaves all reaching toward the sky. Vines and bromeliadae hung from the trunk and branches like draped sinew. He spun on his heel and turned toward the base.

Before the two knew what was happening, arms appeared from behind a tree and snatched both of them. They gasped in sync as the forceful tugs of two assassin droids wrapped around their waists set them off balance and plunging into the thick black water.

Flinch panicked as he felt the full weight of the droid now on top of him, he could barely see through the opaque surface of the water. Even though the seal of his helmet kept the water out, he already felt the lack of oxygen through the filter in front of his mouth.

“FLINCH! SWAY!” The helmet comm rang out, Ash had seen the attack but was still far away, and he was met with no response. Flinch found himself hoping Ash would stay away. Brave as he was, he was no match for a force like this.

The droid’s dead-eyed stare floated right over the surface, watching him struggle. His vision began to go black at the edges. NO. He steeled himself. This is not how I go out. He saw a third droid appear from above his head, upside-down in his vision. It held some kind of strange weapon, a blaster with a noise suppressing muzzle. The droid pointed it at Flinch’s head.

With his last ounce of strength and at the end of his consciousness, Flinch ripped out one final burst of energy. Twisting suddenly, and violently. The soft mud helped him roll out from underneath the droid. Miraculously, he kept a grip on his blaster through the maneuver. His head spun as he hopped to his feet, his reaction time was not slowed as he put a laser bolt through the droid that had been straddling him. Followed quickly by dropping the second assassin droid on top of Sway.

He leveled his blaster at the third droid, with the modified pistol, and clipped his metal leg as the machine sprung up into the treetops with impressive ease. Flinch lost sight of it.

“I’ve got backup, we’re on our way!” Ash commed in as Flinch rushed to Sway.

“Copy.” Flinch coughed, ripping his helmet off as he caught his breath and grabbed Sway by the neck hole in his chest opening. Dragging his brother to the edge of the water, Flinch rolled Sway onto his side and removed his helmet as quickly as he could.

Sway was terrifyingly still for five agonizing seconds, Flinch’s chest seized with horror, then his brother let out a cough that sounded like it should’ve sent a lung flying across the mud where he lay. He gasped for air, and Flinch leaned forward and wrapped an arm over his side. “You’re okay, you stupid sailor.” He huffed, also out of breath.

Sway would’ve said something snarky back, but was busy coughing out, gasping in. His whole body shuddered under Flinch’s hold. Flinch sat back up, and looked up at the treetops where the droid had disappeared to. The vines swayed, but now that his helmet was off he felt no wind.

Ash was still sprinting toward them, three other troopers at his flank, probably the next sentries on shift. Flinch struggled to bring his oxygen depleted mind back to focus, he looked back up to the trees. Something felt wrong.

As much as he didn’t want to breathe the stale air of his helmet again, after almost taking his last breath inside it, he slammed the bucket back on. “Bogeys, tree bogeys.” He whispered into the comm, turning his gaze at the approaching figures again.

Ash gave one single quick nod, and slowed to a jog, his reinforcements following suit. They were still a good distance away. Please, stay there, out of range. Flinch prayed.

“Here’s what we’re going to do, boys.” Ash spoke steadily into the comm. His voice was calm and strong, a commander’s voice. He sounded different, not at all like the young rookie he was. “The droids are using Flinch and Sway as bait, we can’t let them know that we know that. Let’s put on a good show, follow my lead.”

Ash turned off the comm and removed his helmet, his jog now slowing to a march as he neared earshot. “You boys okay? What happened?”

Sway was attempting to get up now, still coughing and not able to speak. Flinch helped him up and supported his weight as he leaned wearily on his brother. “We’re okay, assassin droids jumped us from behind that tree, there was a third one but… I think it got away.” Flinch gestured toward the mangroves behind him, and slowly began walking himself and his brother toward their reinforcements. Ash held out a hand and made a small motion for them to slow down, casting the quickest glance possible toward the trees, his open palm became a fist, the signal to halt. Flinch obeyed the sign.

Ash and the three other troopers closed the distance, he reached out and grabbed Flinch’s hand with both of his. “I’m glad you’re okay, brother.” His hands turned Flinch’s hand palm down, he had deposited a round object into his palm. Flinch couldn’t help but smirk. Ash stepped back. “Let’s head back, we’re going to need to activate some protocols.” Flinch caught the signal, flicking the button on the object in his hand. He noticed the other troopers subtly doing the same thing. Ash had always been the tactician. “And from there we’ll have to send our reports straight up to the TOP!” He screamed the last word and all five of them flung their droid poppers into the treetops with all their might. “GO GO GO GO GO!” Ash cried out while grabbing at Sway, who was still coughing but able to keep up with Ash and Flinch pulling at him as they followed the other three patrol troopers who were sprinting back toward the perimeter. The telltale burst of energy sounded as the poppers found their marks, the trio could hear several droid bodies hit the mud below. Then the shots rang out, and they tore across the field with their lives.

All six troopers made it back to the sentry tower, gasping. As soon as the door closed behind them, Sway collapsed against Flinch. Flinch held his brother up, shocked relief written across his face, a smile hinting through his open mouth as he also caught his breath. The two fell to their knees on the metal floor, their white armor absolutely filthy with black mud.

“I got you brother, let’s get you both cleaned up.” Ash reached down to lift up Sway, who was, in fact, swaying on his knees and beginning to lean forward. Sway accepted the help and got to his feet, a hand on Ash’s shoulder for support. Flinch pushed himself up off his knees and followed, leaving black footprints behind himself. As they exited the tower, several officers rushed up to them asking questions about the incident. Flinch looked up at the moons, studying their position again. Hardly any time. Hardly any time had gone by. That whole ordeal had been mere minutes, he had lived a lifetime and all the emotions in between in those few minutes.

“No, I don’t think any of us are hurt.” Ash reassured one of the officers as they walked.

“There’s blood on the ground.” The non-clone officer pointed out.

At the comment everyone looked at the ground behind Flinch, who walked right behind Sway. Someone’s bootprint was leaving red tracks in the mossy ground.

“I don’t think that’s mine...” Flinch’s face tightened, and he looked up at Sway and Ash. Sway was pale. Flinch looked down at his feet, blood cascaded out of the gap between his shin guard and his boot, the black mud that had been therewas replaced by bright red.

Flinch has a hard time recalling the minutes that followed. Quite unlike the slowed-down time of his adrenaline-induced altercation with the droids, he only remembers the next part in flashes.

Sway went down, Flinch would not leave his side, Sway’s pale face, and the shaking. Shock. They had learned all about shock as cadets. They made it back, they were supposed to be safe. They had won, that was supposed to be the end of it.

No one had noticed the second assassin droid had a vibroknife, somehow it had found the gap in the armor on Sway’s thigh.

Sway’s last moments were spent frightened, looking up at Flinch. Flinch grabbed the side of his face below the ear, thumb leaving prints of blood over the glyphic boat tattoo on his jaw. He wished he had the mind to say something, anything, any words to comfort Sway as the light left his eyes. The medics didn’t make it in time. Too much time in the rancid water, too much time running while bleeding out, not enough time to get help. Not enough time to say goodbye.

Flinch lay in his bunk that night staring at the bottom of the mattress above him. Ash had commandeered the bunk beside his, the previous owner not making any fuss about trading for this night.

“They said they want to check you for fluid in your lungs again tomorrow morning.” Ash reported, sitting on the very edge of the thin mattress, leaning his elbows on his knees. He looked at Flinch, but tears stung his eyes, he looked down at the floor instead.

“Water didn’t even get in my mouth.” Flinch said, deadpan.

Ash shrugged. “I told them that, they didn’t care. They just wanted me to tell you. Don’t shoot the messenger.” He gave a weak attempt at a light-hearted tone.

Flinch closed his eyes and sighed, turning over in the bed away from Ash. He felt Ash’s weight sit next to him, setting hand on his shoulder. Ash said nothing, just breathed for a while. “I’ll be right here.” He patted Flinch as he stood and moved to his borrowed bunk just a few feet away.

Flinch’s left hand found the neck of his black underarmor, he pulled at it, then his hand went inside the shirt to his right bicep. His fresh tattoo. It had begun to itch like mad ever since a few hours ago. As he scratched at it the sensation brought quick relief, he didn’t slow down as it turned into a burning bright pain. He didn’t remember stopping, he didn’t remember falling asleep either.

#whumptober 2024 #no.6 #not realizing they're injured #unhealthy coping mechanisms #healed wrong #it's not my blood #star wars the clone wars #oc #fic #writing #art #character death #near drowning #bleeding out #my ocs #flinch #sw tcw #clone oc #I drew that clone armor completely by memory baby

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