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kbstories · 4 years

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Contingent

con·tin·gent (adj.) Dependent on; conditional.

There's only one thing Trafalgar Law is truly afraid of.

(Or: Bepo will be damned if he loses Law just when he got him back.)

Tags: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Sickfic, Nakamaship, Amber Lead Syndrome, Medical Inaccuracies, Childhood Trauma, Law whumps well and I have no excuse

Set between Zou and Wano. Read Chapter 2 here.

***

To say the Polar Tang is a tight fit is an accurate, if unfortunate, assessment.

Years ago, the shipwright they commissioned to make their submarine-turned-ship a reality had cautioned them about the limited capacity. Back in the North Blue, the logistics of cramming more than two dozen people into close quarters with high-pressure machinery seemed a far-away problem at best.

That was long before Jean Bart entered the picture, patient as their helmsman had been to accommodate the narrow spaces of his new home. The nightshift Uni and Clione had pulled to present him with a set of his very own Heart Pirates-branded overalls the next day probably had something to do with it, too.

And maybe it’s because they haven’t had guests in a while (or at least, none that were conscious enough to count), or that Law’s paranoia has rubbed off on Bepo more than he likes to admit… When their mismatched group of allies take the first step on deck, Bepo is watching them like a hawk.

The fact of the matter is: Bepo loves the Tang. They all do. She’s the one that carried them from the North’s frigid waters all the way into the New World. She’s the best. All they – pirates and samurai alike – give her are curious glances, though, neither overly positive nor notably negative as they follow Trafalgar Law into the bowels of his submarine.

Well, with exception of that Strawhat cyborg, Franky. The moment they’re inside he’s gone, fawning over metal walls and neatly-welded seams like they’re the delicate linework of an artist; all Ikkaku can do to prevent any damage to her baby is to run after him. Her harsh reminders to be careful grow fainter and fainter as the rest moves on.

Ikkaku was against this whole alliance thing and yet, Bepo assumes it’s only a matter of time until their chief engineer is charmed, too. It’s one of those inevitable things that tend to happen around the Strawhats.

In any case, Law doesn’t seem bothered and so Bepo isn’t, either. It’s not like the captain lets them dwell on it for long, anyways – he shuffles their guests into the galley like a goose herds its chicks and gives Penguin a handful of minutes to organize some snacks for everyone before the crew is called to the control room. In one big gulp, Bepo swallows the rest of his sandwich and off he goes.

He gets there just as Law emerges from the captain’s cabin in a fresh change of clothes and still-moist hair. “Ready?”, Law asks him, looking worn out still but sounding excited by his own standards, and Bepo nods with a fanged grin.

“Ready, Captain.”

The tanks are flooded and the engine purrs below their feet. From there, the Heart Pirates flit in and out and around Trafalgar Law like blood cells under a microscope and Bepo?

Bepo stands by Law’s side, one eye on the Log Pose and the other on the currents, and feels his pulse even out. There’s nothing like home.

The Tang quiets to a comforting hum once the course is set and optimal velocity is achieved, a background noise as familiar to Bepo as the cadence of Law’s voice. The residual heat from the engine room is making everyone but Bepo sweat in their suits, and he’d feel smug about it if his paws and nose weren’t wet with perspiration too–

It’s then that he remembers their allies, more specifically the only people without proper gear to be in a submerged submarine, and Bepo curses his own neglect under his breath for all of a second. By that point Bart is already letting go of the helm to pat Bepo's head, an automatic gesture of comfort.

“I told them to wait”, he says and shrugs a bit sheepishly because, as it turns out, the Strawhats actually listened. Bepo finds them lounging around one of the tables, just where they left them; the three from Wano Country are huddled in the corner a bit further away, heads stuck together to catch up. The Strawhats are in the middle of a round of some card game, it seems, even if their expressions are serious enough to make Bepo wonder if there’s more to it. He hovers in their periphery, hesitant to interrupt.

Suddenly, Nico Robin looks up and smiles. Usopp groans, throwing his hand away.

“I give up! You’re impossible, Robin. Impossible.”

“Bear”, Zoro greets him, gaze sliding lazily from his cards to Bepo. “You any good at Continental?”

“Uh”, Bepo replies intelligently. Conti-what? A glimpse at the cards Robin plays doesn’t reveal any epiphanies to him, either. “Sorry. I don’t know what that is.”

“It’s a card game from the East Blue”, Robin explains while she holds out a patient hand for Zoro’s cards as well. It’s one summoned by her powers, not that Zoro seems to mind as he rolls his eye and relinquishes the (presumably bad) hand he had. “Nami is a real devil at it.”

Usopp leans far back in his chair. “Playing this without her to knock out Robin early on is hopeless”, he adds with a dramatic sigh.

Bepo’s ears twitch in interest. Nami, their navigator? “Ah. Perhaps you can show me–” The sentence crashes into the realization that he's letting himself be distracted, again. “Later! Show me later. You guys need suits, and a tour around the– Wait, where’s Franky?”

Robin chuckles rather fondly. “Don’t mind him”, she tells Bepo, “Franky is easily excitable by the prospect of a new ship to tinker with”, and before Bepo can feel put out by her just deciding that, she glances over Bepo’s shoulder. A pause, pensive.

“I can reel him in, though. Your ship, your rules, Mr. Traffy.”

A huff confirms Law’s presence behind him a moment before he puts a hand on Bepo’s elbow, undemanding. Out of habit, Bepo nudges their shoulders together to acknowledge his captain properly and Law’s fingers tighten, once.

“Better get it out of Franky's system now, I suppose. We’re still close enough to the surface that an explosion or two won’t kill us all.”

Law’s voice is utterly deadpan and it’s most certainly a joke – Robin is snickering good-naturedly, too – but Bepo still gives his captain a look. These are the Strawhats they’re talking about.

Law just shakes his head, a movement so subtle it might as well not exist at all. Bepo lets out a breath. No sudden deaths by drowning today, how nice.

“As Bepo said: You need suits and a tour. Wano people, you too. Zoro, you need a guide.”

“Oi.”

“Hey, why the suits?”

That last one comes from Usopp, and Bepo opens his mouth to offer a perfectly rational answer–

“So the Tang doesn’t boil you alive”, Law says and gives them a sweet smile. It drops off his lips immediately. “Any other questions? I’ll send Uni over for your measurements. He’s the guy with the bandana. Shachi will show you around. Bepo, a word?”

Bepo nods along and… Huh?

As first mate, tour duty should fall onto him – after all, it’s a good way for him to gauge who exactly they invited into their home – but something in Law’s tone makes Bepo’s instincts perk up and pay attention and oh, Law hasn’t let go of his elbow yet.

Bepo doesn’t have time to ask his captain what’s wrong before blue engulfs them both and the world shifts around them.

Shambles is a mixture of falling and being held; for Bepo, the unique feeling of Law’s powers is a long-kept comfort, simultaneously a vanguard and the last line of defense in every battle they have fought together.

When it fades, Bepo finds himself in the captain’s cabin – the sight of floor-to-ceiling bookshelves lining the walls is a familiar one, the whirlwind of documents all across the desk not so much – and there’s no time to ponder on that before Law holds his hands inches from Bepo’s nose and tells him to look.

“Wha–?”

“Just– Humor me. What do you see?”

Bepo snaps his jaws shut because Law is serious, the air of snarky rudeness gone without a trace, and Bepo looks and sees... Well, nothing. There’s tan skin and fingernails kept obsessively neat; there are the precise lines of the tattoos that have been there for years.

Law’s hands are trembling.

“I don’t see anything, Captain”, Bepo says honestly. Gently, too, because anything that involves Law insisting like that is wrapped in caution tape and staked with warning signs, do not enter, all the way up to the ocean’s surface.

Law curses, then, shaking out his arms in an effort to stop the tremors and it’s wrong, for a surgeon’s hands to be that unsteady. He starts tugging at his clothes and Bepo watches, concern swelling bigger and bigger in his chest – Law’s hat falls to the ground unnoticed when he pulls his shirt over his head in one rough motion.

“Look”, he repeats, golden eyes gone cold and hard. His chest heaves with how heavy he’s panting, muscles taught under the strain; Law’s arm is the only thing left covered, bandaged all the way to his shoulder.

“Anything?”

Bepo does, expression carefully blank as he forces himself to look past the ink and all the things that make Law Law and directly at what’s hidden in plain sight: faded by time, he spots the outline of pale-white scars that have always been there, pre-dating even the fateful day they met.

Then, Bepo shakes his head. “Nothing. There’s nothing, Captain. It’s the same as always.”

“Honest?”

It’s a rushed breath, barely a question at all. It takes Bepo back a decade, the raw fear in it unchanged and belonging to a boy just scratching manhood, struggling to trust the one friend he has in the world. “Honest”, Bepo promises like he always has, and for all of his twenty-two years the ache in his heart feels ancient.

“Talk to me, Law. Please. You’re scaring me.”

Finally, Law inhales sharply and nods, fingers dragging through his hair the way he does after a close call, another life barely saved.

“Something’s not right. I didn’t notice with everything else going on but I’m tired and everything hurts? It’s like I’m about to pass out, fucking… faint like I used Room too much and things get fuzzy around the edges but I haven’t. All I’ve been doing is sleep and eat, I don’t– It makes no sense. And it’s not going away, Bepo.”

Bepo wants to hug him, the need to hold him close and tell him to breathe writhing inside him like a separate being. Law isn’t done yet and somehow it’s even worse to witness him trying to wrest himself into a semblance of control, to drag himself away from all-too-familiar devastation.

“Fatigue. That’s how it starts”, Law tells him, like he’s talking about a patient wholly unrelated to himself. He holds up his hand and counts down with his fingers, one at a time, utterly methodical. “Then pain in the limbs, difficulties concentrating for longer periods of time, discoloration of the skin and hair, high fever and–”

There are no more fingers left, all of them tucked against Law’s palm and exposing all five letters.

“–ultimately: death.”

Bepo can’t take it anymore. “Captain–”, he starts and again he’s interrupted.

“I must’ve missed something.”

Something flashes in Law’s eyes, something unstable and mad-looking and this is bad, Bepo thinks numbly. Very, very bad.

“I thought I cured it but I was a kid, Bepo. Nobody knows the long-term effects of surviving Amber Lead Syndrome, nobody lived long enough to tell. Just because there're no new spots doesn’t mean it’s gone. And what if there’s deposits on a molecular level? I couldn’t cut cells back then without Kikoku but I can now–”

“Law, stop! Shut up!”

Bepo hasn't shouted at Law and truly meant it in a long, long time. Law’s eyes go wide and the frantic rambling stops, and Bepo is done hesitating: He reaches through that gap and touches Law’s forehead, heat searing into the sensitive skin of his paw pads immediately. Shit.

“You’re burning up”, Bepo tells him and shakes his head, barrels through the acute panic in Law’s gaze before it can take proper hold. “Stop, okay? Listen to me.” His paws drop to Law’s shoulders, firm, careful where his fingers touch gauze. “Remember our promise on Swallow? You were delirious with pain and bleeding all over the place and you told me–”

Law whispers, “Promise to stop me”, almost as pale as he was when he said it the first time.

“Exactly. I promised to never let you operate without a clear head ever again ‘cause you’re only human, Captain, and you make mistakes like this. So this is me, stopping you. You’re unwell and you’re scared and you’re not gonna cut into your own cells looking for Amber Lead like this. Okay?”

“Okay”, Law says, the low rasp of his voice growing more solid, close to trusting. Bepo lets himself feel the rapid beat of his own heart for a moment and that, too, is calmer now if only marginally so.

“Okay. So: You’re tired, your body aches, you can’t focus. You have a fever and there’s like, a thousand reasons why that could be aside from– That. And there’s no new spots. What else causes those symptoms? Walk me through it.”

“The flu? Other viruses. Anemia. Iron deficiency in general. Uh–”

A few seconds pass where Law just thinks, brow furrowed and shining with sweat, and Bepo reaches blindly for the hoodie he knows he will find crumpled on Law’s desk chair. “Put this on”, he mutters and presses it against Law’s naked chest. Law does, even lets Bepo help when his injured arm catches on fabric and a pained hiss escapes his lips.

Then the scars are covered again, out of Bepo’s and – more importantly – Law’s sight for the most part. Law stops shivering as much and it's not much but it's still good, still progress. Bepo steers Law to the bed and makes him sit down; arms crossed on the back of the chair, Bepo sits directly across from him. Eyes soft, he nudges Law’s boot with his own.

“Captain. What else?”

“Bacterial infections, severe ones. Miningitis? Hmm... Lymphoma. Technically, most types of canc–”

“Whoa, that’s– Let’s stop there. See? Plenty of options. All of them suck, especially that… that last one.” Bepo pauses, can’t help but to ask: “It’s not that, right? You don’t have cancer.”

Law’s expression softens, the overall misery pushed aside for a moment as his lips twitch tiredly and he shakes his head. “No cancer.”

Bepo nods in relief, and his mind is already three steps ahead because they need a plan and Law is not the only Heart Pirate that has a knack for those. “What’s the prescription against fever? Painkillers and…?”

“Antipyretics.”

There’s not much finesse to Bepo searching the cabinet where Law keeps his private stash of medicine. The weight of Law’s eyes on him registers yet his captain says nothing, wordlessly watching Bepo as he reads labels and tries to place everything back where he finds it until– There!

“Got it. Take… uh, how many?”

“Two. And one from the red box. That one, yeah.”

Bepo gives him the pills and waits with crossed arms until Law obediently swallows all of them at once, wincing at– Wait. Water.

Scrambling to the adjacent bathroom, Bepo fills a glass and refills it right after his captain finishes the first, placing it on his nightstand. “My apologies.”

“It’s fine. You’re fussing.”

“You bet I am”, Bepo huffs, uncaring how petulant it makes him sound. “And I’m not done. Now, rest – and I mean rest, Captain, as in not moving from that bed or so help me – and I’ll get Shachi and Penguin to keep you company. You’ll be fine in no time.”

Pointedly, Law folds the covers over his legs, a wordless there, I’m in bed. “Happy?”

“Yes.”

“And you?”

Blinking, Bepo tilts his head at Law. Law just raises an eyebrow and waits, looking vaguely worried and–

Bepo reminds himself that for all he’s a genius his captain is also an idiot.

“You just came back and you’re sick, what do you think I’m gonna do? Figure this out, of course! There’s no way I’m letting you anywhere near one of the Emperors like this, much less freaking Kaido. Also”, he takes a long breath, “I’m taking Kikoku with me and there’s nothing you can do–”

“Fine.”

“–to stop me! …Wait, seriously?”

“Yeah, take it. You’re worried enough as is.” Law shrugs a little, like it’s no big deal he’s allowing Bepo to handle the sword he keeps close even in his sleep. “It’s cursed, though. Be careful.”

Bepo swallows, a little nervous despite himself. “I know. I will. And… we’ll get through this, okay? Just stay put. Don’t do anything stupid.”

Law leans back against the headrest and sighs, “Can't. The meds’ll knock me out in a few.” And perhaps he doesn’t look particularly happy about any of it but he still took the pills Bepo handed him, still decided in that moment to trust Bepo to come up with a solution while he’s down and out.

Determination sets into a tight-lipped smile on Bepo’s face. Law’s trust is all Bepo has ever needed, be it to wrestle ocean currents into submission or to help his best friend find the freedom he’s looking for, one cut string at a time.

“I'll tell 'em to hurry, then. Leave the rest to me, Captain.”

>>Chapter 2.

#one piece #fanfiction #trafalgar law #bepo #one piece fanfiction #i'm still emotional about the heart pirates hey how are you #this fic is also on AO3!#my stuff

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house-of-tykayl · 4 years

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cystar tho (headcanons)

imagine

cyborg and starfire are the cuddliest couple ever. the PDA is incredible. star will perch on his shoulders like he’s a climbing post/bird perch and generally just drape herself all over him bc he’s got a lot of surface area and she wants comfy. and cy will just grab her out of midair for huggles before letting her float away again like a balloon headed straight for the atmosphere. star will float higher when she wants to look over his shoulder at something (bc hes the only titan taller than her) and sometimes cy will just reach up and touch her waist and lead her around in the air like that while they chat

the other titans support them, but are simultaneously disgusted by the excessive amount of PDA. cy sometimes milks star’s affection to troll everyone, especially at the breakfast table. “hey star i havent had my morning kiss today” “oh apologies” “do that long tongue thingy again babe” “if you two dont let me eat my waffles in peace for just ONE morning i will open a portal to the seventh circle of hell and chuck the both of you inside”

star is living for the unabashed affection bc cyborg has no qualms about being proud boyfriend in public. like he’ll wrap an arm around her and go “hey star’s my girlfriend :)” and the grocery store clerk’s like “we know, that’ll be $15.99″ and star’s just beaming, holding the plastic bags full of snacks and unorthodox food combinations

if cy’s generous with the lovin wait till you see star lmao. “you are looking most beautiful today!” she keeps saying shit literally no one else will say, either (possibly) coz of the robot thing or just coz starfire’s being starfire, and cyborg’s just like *clutches_chest.jpeg* because she a lil weirdo but she makes him feel normal and appreciated and that he’s great the way he is, that he’s desired even if a lot of him isn’t organic anymore. like yes!! my boyfriend is comprised of 80% robotic parts!! he is extremely strong and the “cool”!!! is he not absolutely wonderful???

ok but starfire can almost never get enough touching, and cyborg’s just like aight *picks her up and carries her around on his arm for an hour* and she’ll just be giddy the entire time

more under the cut

star doesnt have a lot of preconceived notions of what a normal human relationship is, outside of things she sees on TV and robin’s incomprehensible push-pulling over the years. so she doesn’t care one bit about the fact that she’s cuddling a robot. she’d figured starting a relationship with anyone on earth would be something different for her regardless– so a lot of the things cyborg used to think a partner would find problems with, end up not happening because man, this alien chick. “may i lay together with you in your bed?” “girl are you saying you wanna sleep while standing up?? on my charging port???? surrounded by 3478012 cables and wires?????” “is there no room? then may i sleep on the floor?” she just wants to be with him

heck more bed shenanigans would involve like, cyborg awkwardly trying to lie down on star’s bed, and it feels weird coz he hasn’t slept in a real bed for years and while it feels nice he’s kinda sinking into the mattress and he’s self-conscious about leaving a dent in the frame?? or like rolling over at night and squashing star which would be awkward coz he’s more than a little heavy?? then star hops in and cuddles close and is all like shhhhhhhhh slep time

silkie is usually very happy about cyborg’s presence in star’s room, if only because he can gnaw on cy’s legs while they sleep. cy begins to think it’s also revenge since there’s a lot less space on the bed with himself in it, and silkie struggles to find room near starfire to sleep at night. they eventually just get a bigger bed. silkie is a lot less stressed– but cyborg still wakes up with chew marks in his legs

if either of them are too tired from a battle that day, the other will carry them to bed. BB laughed his ass off the first time he saw starfire princess carrying cy to his room (star’s perfectly capable of carrying his weight but her arms aren’t necessarily long enough to hold onto him properly, making it a little cumbersome and awkward), but cy just tiredly gives B the finger

cy will talk to star in awkward broken tamaranian and she’ll get all giggly. everyone else assumes it’s cute flirting, but he’s actually whispering dirty, raunchy shit. that she taught him. and she continues to teach him tamaranian, occasionally dropping new words while otherwise speaking english, and waiting for him to ask about what they mean.

cy will sometimes smack star’s ass and then run for his life before she can return the favor, because he always ends up with an overly-enthusiastic handprint-shaped dent in his ass. it’s a terrifying game of tag. BB will chase them chasing each other with a camera to add to his album of “cyborg’s dented ass” photos that he shares with the whole titans network

cy teaches star about the niches in earth/american culture, the kinds of things that are a little harder to learn about on your own, or things she otherwise wouldn’t have had a reason to learn. he tells her about old american tv shows and explains obscure slang words and how to make telemarketers hang up first and what the contra code is and why he mashes it in every time he boots up a new video game. it’s a crash course mix of useless trivia and miscellaneous culture that makes star’s head spin– but she’s excited about learning all the same, the power of just knowing more makes her feel more comfortable on a planet where she is always a foreigner

it’s kinda why star adores all the different nicknames cy has for her like “fly girl” “baby doll” etc because it makes her feel “in” coz she gets all these cool nicks of names like other earth people!! she fits in!!!! and he’ll say it so fondly it makes her blush half the time. cy definitely notices and thinks its super cute at how excited she gets over pet names. she tries to nickname him back at one point but it felt awkward and she struggled to come up with them, and cy reassured her that he liked her saying out his name anyway, its cool. just be yourself babey

cy loves teaching star things in general, he’s patient and she’s always an eager student. he once took a few hours showing her how to play video games and while she didn’t really take to it, she did learn how to not break the controller whenever her virtual car’s about to crash into the divider (she still shrieks when it happens though)

initially, star is a bit nervous about touching some of cyborg’s robot parts like the implants and consoles coz she’s not sure how to deal with them? alien tech is one thing and earth tech is another, and then there’s the advanced shit that made up cyborg’s body and literally keeps him alive. she’s petrified at the thought of accidentally breaking something like what if she presses the button that turns off his lungs???????? and cy is like why the fuck would i have a button to turn off my lungs?? so one day cy just sits her down so she’s leaning back against his chest, and he looks over her shoulder as he shows her how to navigate his arm console. press this button and choose this option, no the screen wont break even if you press hard, dont use the browser to download malware on my arm like BB did, etc. the ui’s pretty intuitive and star gets it pretty quickly, then she gets all excited. cy teaches her about all the maintenance he does on his body and how his charger works and all that shit and she like oooooo

“if the t-car is your baby, does this mean i am its mother? cyborg does she like me enough? should i assist in changing her oil? *panicking* WILL SHE ACCEPT ME AS HER ADOPTED K’NORFKA?!”

(the t-car is a sassy one, easily jealous and protective– but ultimately, she does approve of starfire, if only just barely)

they spend a lot of time in the garage together. whether cy’s fussing with the t-car or putting together a new gadget, star’s a helpful assistant when it comes to welding or heavy lifting. and while she doesn’t necessarily get programming, she still helps cy with all the calculations and math involved in it; the concept of physics as she has encountered on earth is primitive compared to tamaran, and cy will often challenge her to crack a tough equation before his computer can. while the computer usually gets a result first, star will just explain that its answer was wrong in the large scheme of things, before she starts going in depth into that nerdy science shit to find a more effective way to wire whatever project they’re working on and cy’s just like ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥ heart eyes ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥ at how smart she is

they fucking love food. while all the titans are hanging out in the common room, star and cy spend an inordinate amount of time in the kitchen. star will literally eat anything, at any time, and cy would go like “yo star want a sub??” and shes like “YES I WOULD LOVE THE EDIBLE SUBMARINES” and they go make the tallest sub ever and then Eat it

they just cook together a lot, one of them being head chef for the hour and the other being the kitchen assistant. cy’s usually in the lead when they’re making food for the other titans (to prevent food poisoning), and star is happy to learn new recipes that aren’t lethal to her friends– that, and licking all the mixing bowls clean. cy purposely gets sauce etc on his face so that star will see and lick it off too. then star will very unsubtly smear food on her face so that cy will wipe it off with his finger and then things get handsy. (they’re both aware it’s a game, but they pretend like they don’t.)

cy gets them matching aprons and a tiny chef hat for star. she asks him why it’s so tiny or even necessary but he just thinks its cute af on her lol

it helps cy’s ego when star will also eat literally anything he puts in front of her while enjoying it unironically. of course, cy quickly learns that starfire’s favorite “earth” foods are things that most people wouldn’t consider food at all, so while he’ll prepare Real Food for himself, he had to start a new custom cookbook for the random combinations of ingredients that starfire likes to ingest. he’s torn between feeling like his chef skills go to waste on her, or being proud at how good he’s become at figuring out the kinds of food combos she likes based on the flavors and consistencies she’s inclined to. but ultimately she’s just so cute and happy when she smiles at the taste of m&ms on raw steak that cyborg’s just like ahh. fine.

cyborg: *sighs while writing* “edamame in a cherry-chocolate reduction: get a handful of fresh edamame, washing is optional, pour hershey’s chocolate sauce all over it, add cherries but don’t remove the pits or the stems, sprinkle in some drops of 7up, then cover that shit in mustard. stick it all in the microwave for 1 minute, doesn’t really matter what temperature? prep time: 3 and a half minutes. the fuck did i just write”

star: *wolfs down that edamame shit like its the best goddamn thing ever*

raven:

meanwhile, while cy can’t stomach star’s tamaranean food, he does go out of his way to learn how to prepare the stuff himself, for whenever star’s sick or feeling down. the nostalgic taste of home tends to help her feel better. the bowls of wustlepus might keep trying to strangle him, but hey, cy can handle it

cy used to think we was master of stuffing his face, but he quickly found out that you do not challenge an alien with 9 stomachs to an eating competition and expect to win. it’s still fun, of course, to pick a restaurant and watch her slowly but surely put away food with a grace that cy doesn’t (care to) have. robin and BB cheer will them on, raven is disgusted but plays referee anyway (even though it’s not like the result ever changes)

“are the table manners required for today’s duel of excessive food consumption?” star will ask cy innocently, but she’d be smiling a lil smugly because she knows she’s gonna win like always

(at some point, the restaurant manager will start eyeing them nervously from the doorway of the staff room, unsure about whether to ask the titans to leave before they run the kitchen dry, or to take advantage of the publicity.)

cy and star are a couple that isn’t inclined to subtle about anything. that means smooching all the time. mwah noises. flirting. glomps. yelling at shit together for fun– cy just expresses himself loudly, while shouting at each other is a form of affection on tamaran. they’ll sometimes wrestle, sometimes arm wrestling and sometimes all out full-body on the floor (actual wrestling tho, not a innuendo; star usually wins). they keep denting walls and furniture with their messing around and the other titans are like /(e_e)\ *passing out earplugs* and at some point robin is like guys… just… keep it in your rooms please

but being loud isn’t exclusive to daytime. nobody fucking knows how the hell an alien and a robot get it on, but based on all the god damn noise at night, they’ve apparently figured something out. maybe more than one something. it is a mystery

“hey, star… ever heard of a vibrator?”

most of their making out happens in the gym tho, let’s be real. they’ve been checking each other out for years in there. now they just get frisky after (or during, or before) a workout, culminating in yet another “workout”. they never lock the door, and after enough incidents the other titans just end up boycotting the gym entirely in lieu of the other training room

with the added privacy, star opts to work out in the gym without a top on. or a bra. then she heads for the treadmill

“you never wear clothing, cyborg, so why should i?”

cyborg keeps dropping his weights on himself and just ends up covered in dents, two mangled prosthetic legs, and having done no training at all

they’re such a peppy excited pair that sometimes things can get a bit too wild. there’s a pile in the back of cy’s room made up solely of dented/crushed/melted/ripped arm and leg prosthetics, all damaged because cy was busy pampering his superpowered alien gf a lil too much. starfire feels super bad but cy is like, he has to fix his limbs after a lot of battles anyway, it’s no big deal. he also hasn’t bothered to suggest a workaround yet because watching her lose control is hot (and maybe getting his hand melted is kinda kinky)

they sometimes troll the other titans– usually robin– by whispering in tamaranian behind them and snickering, pretending like they’re talking about them. robin used to be extra miffed by this, but after learning that cy’s tamaranian is actually still shit enough that he has yet to learn to string together a proper sentence longer than 3 words, robin knows they’re just fucking around with him. at one point robin turns around on the couch and throws some tamaranian right back at them and cyborg’s like :O what the fuck? what the fuck?? and star’s like yeah actually robin asked me to teach him tamaranian too. and robin’s like :) and cy is grumpy he can’t antagonize him with it anymore (and that it’s not exclusively his and star’s code language anymore, but really, you can’t own a language like that)

star likes to cart cy around while flying, but he’s just so bulky that he doesnt look all graceful and shit like robin; he just looks kinda goofy dangling in the air with her holding him under the arms. but even if he felt a little self-conscious, he forgets it quickly when she lets him skim the ocean with his feet or take him up over the clouds– he’d thought he lost everything with the accident that left him a robot, but getting to fly like this is something he never could’ve even dreamed of even when he was all human. like. this must be what it actually means to be living. everything happens for a reason

cy gets a UV lamp installed in his body just in case they get stuck somewhere and there’s no sunlight for star, he can’t replace the sun but it might help

he also turns his heaters up a bit when they’re cuddling coz he knows she likes warmth, as long as he’s not running the risk of overheating his system, but his metal parts can be cold to the touch and while she doesnt mind it at all he just wants her to be cozy….

cy’s like the only titan taller than star, so she usually floats to be eye level with him. he big and bulky and strong and he reminds her of galfore, and that’s part of why she always felt protected and safe around him. not to mention star’s been getting taller than most earth people her age; she sometimes feels like a tall poppy, sticking out of the crowd too much. so she lowkey enjoys being smol for once compared to cyborg, especially if she ever feels like hiding behind him, or being carried by him, the comfort of a sort of bodyguard that she doesn’t necessarily need but is there if she wants

i keep bringing this up but star sitting on cyborg’s shoulders/arms like. the result is this tall stack of a couple that towers over all the other titans– then like everyone will be chilling on the couch when they hear making out noises from above and they look up and its just star floating around cyborg’s head as they smooch and everyone’s like -_-

all the meme fun aside, they’re always able to confide in each other whenever they’re upset. they’ll sit together in silence and just lean on each other or hug and wait for someone to spill. if (when) it comes down to “will i ever fit in?”, because that kinda worry never completely goes away, they’ll be reassured that they know the few places they’ll always be accepted– and that’s in the titans, or in the unconventional relationship between a half robot and an alien nuclear bomb

star likes being around cy coz he’s so sturdy, in more ways than one– he’s strong enough to tank stuff so it’s safer to roughhouse with him. she loves being able to give the biggest of hugs without worrying too much about crushing a ribcage (earthlings and their Fragile Little Bones!)

cy loves how small star is compared to him bc shes fun to pick up or pluck from the air and cuddle ♥ and she’s so warm, just radiating heat both literally and metaphorically and she’s so full of life and heart, and cy’s once again reminded of what it really means to be human– by a goddamn alien, no less

they like to touch each other’s faces, just caressing n stuff like they do in “how long is forever” and the teen titans go comic #24, staring into each others eyes and shit and going all (uwu) they just love to touch each other okay even back when they were just friends!!!!!!!

HAVE I MENTIONED THE SMOOCHES. star will just kiss cy all over his face because its fun and she knows he likes it. then cy returns the favor, except with increasingly exaggerated kissing and nomming noises because it makes star laugh and blush like crazy. it’s horribly embarrassing for anyone else watching. star & cy are usually standing in the middle of the corridor by this point, and then robin was gonna head to his office, but once he sees the path is blocked– by this no less– just returns the way he came without a word

if anyone tries to make star feel uncomfortable for being alien or misunderstanding something, which does still happen sometimes, they’ll quickly find out they’ve got the goddamn terminator comin for their ass. or they’ll turn around and see 6 foot tall robot man with arms crossed and red eye glowing and he’ll be like (: hey there (:

star keeps leaving the garage with motor oil all over her face. none of the other titans knows how to address it, or if they even should, so they don’t

anyway theyre in love

#:)#text #cystar #im weak #yes i referenced teen titans go because ttg actually has the wholesome cystar content can you believe this. episodes just about them #and theyre really cute #fight me irl #might edit this later its a mess #long post

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our-smooty · 5 years

Text

450 Years

Fandom: Gorillaz

Rating: Mature

Relationships: 2doc

Tags: psychosis, abusive relationship, 2doc, near death experiences

Summary: Plastic Takes 450 to decompose

It stank to high heaven on the shores of Plastic Beach. Some horrible mixture of garbage, seawater, and spraypaint all roasting in the sun and mixing with the smell of dead fish. Even he’d noticed the smell, which was surprising given the bashed-in state of his nose. Within the first week, he’d given up getting rid of the smell and accepted it, though he still occasionally felt a pang of jealousy at Cyborgs lack of olfactory senses.

To be honest, the smell was the least of his worries. If he was being honest, he wasn’t 100% sure where he got this island from, or how he’d gotten there. The past few months had been a blur, and he’d either been too high or too drunk to remember most of what happened. Now, 6 months on, he didn’t think it really mattered.

Because Murdoc? Murdoc deserved to be isolated out here, in the middle of nowhere. He deserved the be hunted by pirates and Boogieman, to be forgotten on his own garbage-pile prison. As every day passed, each one blending into the next in a haze of hallucinations and drugs, he never forgot why he deserved to be there. He reminded himself at every opportunity, that he deserved to die, that he was awful that she--

That it should have been him.

In a blink, a year had passed, and he celebrated by trying to jump off the pretty pink balcony of his bedroom. Cyborg stopped him, of course. She was programmed to protect him, even from himself. She must have been the one ordering all the supplies as well because no matter how much Murdoc drank, there was always more. Never enough.

It’d been a shock when 2D showed up in that suitcase. To be honest, he wasn’t actually sure if he’d kidnapped the singer or if someone else had. Having someone else around revived him enough to think about other things. The line between reality and fiction began to blur and before he knew it he was writing an album, forcing the singer to perform with Murdoc’s fucked up copy of their bandmate.

It was one day like this when Murdoc had let 2D up from the basement--just to stop him crying, the singer’s crying was echoing through the building and worming into his brain--that the bassist well and truly snapped. They were sitting in the studio, 2D spinning round and round in a chair, Murdoc plucking nonsense on his bass when Stu had come to a halt right in front of him.

“Eh Murdoc,” he started, his twangy voice grating against Murdoc’s raw nerves. He grunted in response, stopping his strumming but not looking up. He didn’t like looking up at either of them anymore, didn’t like the way their eyes made him feel. “What’d’you think about takin’ a trip, jus’ t’get off the island for a lil’ bit?”

Again, Murdoc grunted in reply. The singer continued. “I-I was jus’ thinkin’ we’ve been workin’ so hard a-and there haven’t been any helicopters for ages an--” Murdoc dropped his bass to the floor suddenly, startling the other. “O-or not! I-it’s fine!”

2D cowered in the chair, his fingers nervously tapping against one-another. Murdoc stood stock-still, his fists clenched, breathing rapidly. “You wanna leave?” His voice was deadly calm, masking the inner rage boiling away. He made a decision. The singer nodded but didn’t dare speak.

“Right, up you get then,” Murdoc said, jumping to his feet and striding out of the room. 2D clambered behind him, worried but also excited at the chance to finally get off this rotten hunk of garbage.

Murdoc led them through the building and out into the sunny walkway. The singer skipped happily out the door and into the sunshine; he hadn’t been outside in so long and the warmth on his skin was heavenly. He didn’t have time to bask long, Murdoc was already down the path and near the dock where his submarine was floating. In seconds he’d unlocked the hatch and jump in, leaving the singer to dash clumsily to catch up.

“Sit down, strrrrrrap in, Dents,” the bassist exclaimed, wasting no time in getting things started. A strange, manic glint shone in his eye, his movements just a little too quick to be regular. 2D didn’t notice, too busy planning his vacation away from Plastic Beach.

Within minutes they were jetting off, leaving a trail of bubbles behind them. Where he’d usually be too scared, this time 2D was staring out the porthole, watching the pink plastic get further and further away. By the time it was out of sight and he turned back to the bassist he realized he had no idea where they were going. A quick glance into the back seat also told him they’d managed to leave Cyborg behind.

“So uh, where we goin’ then Muds?” he asked, suddenly feeling significantly more nervous. The Satanist didn’t answer, his gaze level and unwaveringly focused on the deep blue emptiness in front of them. “Murdoc?”

They sat in silence, 2D getting more and more antsy with each passing minute. Each creek and moan of the sub made him jump and whimper. Eventually, he couldn’t take it, and he ducked down in his seat, mask over his face, eyes covered.

“What’s your problem, then?” Murdoc growled, spooking the younger even more. He reached out a hand, still looking forward, and yanked the mask off, tossing it in the back. “Can’t stand that stupid thing!”

S-s-sorry Murdoc!” the singer cried, shaking. Murdoc grunted before pressing a few buttons, stopping the submarine. Suddenly, it was very, very quiet. “Why’d you stop?”

Murdoc leaned back, both hands behind his head, and let out a sigh. “Because,” he reached under the seat and pulled out an unmarked bottle of liquor “we’re almos’ outta gas. Need gas for life support.”

2D blanched. “O-outta gas? Whaddaya mean outta gas!? How’re we gonna get home?”

Murdoc shrugged. “Dunno, mate. You’re the one of wanted a vacation.” The singer stared at him, completely gobsmacked.

“It’s not my fault! How was I supposed to know we didn’t have enough gas!” He let his head fall in his hands. “We’re gonna die out here, we’re gonna drown.”

“Actually, we’ll probably suffocate first. Or get crushed to death by the pressure when the sub sinks,” Murdoc added casually, popping the cork on the bottle and taking a pull.

Eyes wide with fear, 2D turned on the bassist, fists clenched. “This is all your fault! You’re killing us both!”

Again, Murdoc was quiet. He still hadn’t looked at the singer properly since they’d left. He watched as Stu frantically pressed buttons and pulled levers on the dash; it was no use. The key was stashed away in the bassists pocket, and the sub wouldn’t do a thing without it.

“Why’re you doin’ this?” 2D moaned, ending his futile button-smashing in favour of curling up in his seat. Murdoc sighed loudly, and nudged the bottle against his shoulder.

“Aren’t you tired, D?” he asked. 2D took the bottle none too gently and drank. “It’d be easier, this way, gettin’ drunk and sinkin’.”

2D coughed at the bitter burn of the low-grade alcohol. “I don’t wanna die! I wanna go home to Russel an’ Noo--”

Before he could finish her name, Murdoc stood looming over him, fist raised. The singer coward, expecting the blow. When it didn’t come, he spared a glance up at his would-be attacker. Murdoc was still looming, but his hand was limp at his side.

“You and me, Stu, we’re connected. It’s like one of those stupid teen novels yeah?” The singer watched him pace back into the body of the sub, swinging the bottle wildly. “If one of us goes, we both gotta go, so why not jus’ get it over with? Why wait it out when the whole world’s gone to shit?”

“What the bloody fuck are you on about?” 2D spat back at him. “You’re out of your fuckin’ mind!”

Murdoc was obviously frustrated that the younger man didn’t understand. It was so obvious, and he almost couldn’t believe 2D was that thick. “Don’t you feel it? It brough’ you to this island, in that suitcase!”

“That was some freak in a gas mask,” 2D snapped. “Probably one of your friends.”

Murdoc rounded on him, finger raised. “Then you’ve seen him too! Fuck, I thought I’d really lost it.”

That confirmed it. 2D had been suspicious before, given Murdoc’s erratic and downright nonsensical, but now he knew for sure. “You haven’t been takin’ your medication, have you?”

“What are you on about? I’m fine.” Murdoc gestured wildly with the bottle, splashing liquid everywhere. 2D shook his head sadly.

“You think drowin’ us in the middle of the ocean is ‘fine’?” he asked. Nothing he said was going to make any difference, he remembered how Murdoc was before the meds and knew that the man was probably completely detached from reality. “Nevermind. I’m going to look for some spare fuel in the back. Jus’ don’t… do anything else ok?”

Murdoc turned on him, face snarling in sudden anger. “Don’t fuckin’ tell me my own business! I’m in charge here!”

“S-sorry!” 2D yelped. Murdoc seemed to pause for a moment, before deciding pummeling the younger into a pulp wasn’t worth it. He sat on one of the cots with his booze, content to spend the last few hours of his life drinking. Stu was still determined to find a way out, and he quietly made his way back to the storage area.

After an hour of searching, he’d found nothing useful. A lot of the stuff was junk, spare bits of wires and empty bottles. With fear bubbling sharp and violent in his chest 2D sank to the floor, defeated. “We’re really gonna die.”

“Quit your whinin’, everybody dies,” Murdoc grumbled. He’d been quiet as Stu searched, obviously uninterested in saving them.

“I’m only in my 30’s, I don’t wanna die yet!” the singer cried. Tears began to run down his face.

With a grunt, Murdoc sat up and wobbled over to where the singer was sitting. He sat beside him heavily, offering the bottle again. “Dyin’s not so bad, Stu.”

“How would you know? You aren’t dead,” 2D moaned, taking bigger and bigger gulps from the bottle. Murdoc laughed bitterly and relaxed against the cold metal wall.

“Might as well be,” he mumbled. 2D looked at him warily, noting the dark bags under his eyes, and the gauntness of his cheeks. The bassist really did look sick, how had he not noticed before?

“Whaddaya mean?”

Murdoc sighed. “I’ve been alive a long time, longer than I think I know about,” the older answered. He could feel the emptiness in his chest aching. “I know I can be a right bastard, but it’s all been about me, you know?”

2D shook his head. “I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about Murdocc. You’re completely mad.”

“You’re probably right,” he agreed. They sat like that, a few inches apart, sharing the bottle until it was empty. “D’you remember… Jamaica?”

2D let out a short laugh. “How could I not? We were so drunk the entire time, it was great.”

“What about that night… the one after Noodle and Russ went back?”

2D thought back through the haze of alcohol. Russel had taken Noodle home once they’d both gotten tired of the constant partying, but 2D and Murdoc had stayed behind. The two of them had always been a bit more wild than Russel, not to mention Noodle was still just a kid. He tried to bring up a clear memory of the days after when it’d been them two alone. It was all a blur.

“Nothin’s really comin’ to mind, no.” Murdoc looked disappointed, if not a little upset.

“Figures,” he sighed. “I always assumed you forgot.”

A niggling voice in the back of 2D’s head made him stop drinking, and think really hard. “I-I remember when you fell outta that tree, and then nothin’ until we were on the plane back home.”

Murdoc sniffed. “S’probably for the best. Dunno how I remember any of it either.”

“What are you talkin’ about?” 2D asked, his suspicions growing, The more he thought about it, the clearer things were getting, like pulling back the curtains on a hidden painting. A dark room, hands, lips on his.

“We weren’t that drunk, at the time, you know,” Murdoc said firmly. “Forget I said anythin’, it won’t matter soon anyways.”

A warm body pressed against his, whispered words and bright pleasure. “Are you sayin’ what I think you’re sayin? That we…”

“Snogged, yeah. Tossed each other off a few times” Murdoc confirmed. 2D felt his stomach flip.

“Why are you tellin’ me this now? Why not before?”

Murdoc rolled the empty bottle between his hands, watching the tiny drops inside roll down the glass. “Cause it makes sense. We’re quite the pair, you and I.”

“I still have no idea what you’re on about. We snogged nearly a decade ago and now you’re keepin’ me hostage on a plastic island and drownin’ us in the ocean?” None of this was making sense, but what else could he expect? Murdoc was irrational and off his medication, there was no rhyme or reason for his actions.

“It. Makes. Sense,” Murdoc growled, gripping the bottle tight. “We’re meant to be together, Stu, in one way or another. This is jus’ the last step.”

“Murdoc,” the singer began, voice shaky, “you’re not well. You don’t need to do this.”

But he knew it was too late. They had no way of getting back to land, or even to Plastic Beach. It’d take a miracle to save them.

“I’m sorry,” the bassist said suddenly standing and pacing again. “It’s a shame to deprive the world of such a beautiful creature. But it’s the only way.”

“The only way to what?” 2D asked, voice trembling with both fear and anger. “You haven’t even fuckin’ asked me what I--”

“You would have said no!” Murdoc snarled, spit flying from his lips. “Of course you would--”

“How do you know?” 2D shouted tearfully. “Instead of askin’ me y-you dragged me to this stupid island an’ n-now you’re tryin’ t’drown me!”

Murdoc slowed at that. “You don’t know what you’re talkin’ about. You don’t know--”

“Try. Me.” The look in 2D’s eyes was both hard and afraid. “We don’t have anythin’ else to do, except w-wait to die anyway.”

Murdoc sat heavily in the captain's seat, one leg swung over the arm. “I knew the first time I laid eyes on ya, not while you were in a c-coma mind, but after the second accident.”

“Eyes like tar pits, hair-like bloody cotton candy. The most gorgeous bloke I’d e-ever seen. The perfect frontman.” Murdoc held the bottle in his hands up, looking through the wet glass. “But you were always popular with the ladies, weren’t you?”

Stu listened, dumbstruck. “What are you trying to say you fancy me or something? I-is this your sick way of a-askin’ me out?”

The sub gave a sudden, violent banging sound, like metal on metal. It drowned out Murdoc’s dry laugh. “It’s not that simple, D.”

“Don’t. You don’t get to call me that a-anymore,” 2D said after he recovered from the noise. “Y-you’re fuckin’ sick, there’s somethin’ wrong with you!”

Murdoc laughed again. “Never said there wasn’t.” With a sigh, the bassist tossed the bottle aside to join the others littering the sub floor. 2D wasn’t really sure what else to say. They were trapped here, and he would rather not spend the last few hours of his life arguing with Murdoc, of all people. He reached over to one of the half-empty bottles on the floor and opened it, taking a swig.

“This is insane. You couldn’t, I don’t know, ask me out like a r-regular person?” he asked, hanging his head in his hands.

“Would you have said yes?”

The singer didn’t even have to think. “No, probably.”

“Probably?” Murdoc’s voice was softer now, his head tipped back against the armrest. “Don’t sound too sure.”

Why were they having this conversation now? The fact that he might be dead soon gave 2D the courage to answer. “Probably, I dunno. Maybe I f-fancied you back t-then. But that w-was years ago.”

Murdoc was quiet so long that Stu thought he might have passed out. He was about to get up and check--he didn’t really want to die alone--when the bassist spoke. “An’ what about now?”

He wanted to be mad. Really, he did. Maybe the air in the cabin was getting thinner, or maybe the singer was drunker than he thought. Either way, he couldn’t find it in himself to be angry.

“2D?”

“You kidnapped me. An’ y-you’re keepin’ m-me on this island.” Murdoc peered at him from the captain's chair, watching him speak. “You’re s-sick, completely deranged!”

“S'not a no, mate,” Murdoc said quietly. 2D sighed.

“I'm not talkin’ about this right now.”

“Why not. We'll be dead in an hour or so anyway. Come-on Stu, humour me,” the bassist begged, swivelling his body so 2D could see the pathetic pout on his lips.

“Sof off,” 2D moaned. Murdoc sighed dramatically and continued to pout. Every couple of seconds, he let out another, prolonged sigh until the singer finally snapped. “God this is s-so like you! Draggin’ me to this island, lockin’ me up, trappin’ me in this submarine!”

“I didn’t do this!,” Murdoc snarled. “This was always goin’ to happen!.”

“Y-you know at one time, I-I really liked you, M-Muds. I trusted you.” Murdoc was breathing heavy through his nose, his anger boiling over, but 2D didn’t back down. “But I’m sick of you abusin’ me and tryin’ to take advantage of me!”

Murdoc growled. “I’m not doin’ shit its--”

“Stoppit Murdoc!” 2D shouted, standing up to loom over the bassist. “You keep sayin’ you’re not the one doin’ it but I think you know, somewhere in that fuckin’ mess you call a brain that you are! You can’t keep livin’ in this fuckin’ la la land! You’re delusional!”

Murdoc didn’t answer, so he continued. “Are there even really people after you, or did you jus’ make that up? And why’d you made it look so much like Noo--”

His angry monologue was cut off by a sudden deep banging coming from the outside of the sub. Terror shot through both of them, their imaginations running wild. Murdoc straightened up in his seat quickly, fumbling with the keys in his pocket, though he knew they were out of gas.

2D shrieked as the banging got louder. It had to be that fucking whale! He couldn’t help but grab onto Murdoc’s shoulder tightly. “M-M-Murdoc what--”

“I-I don’t fuckin’ know!” Murdoc growled in answer, jamming the keys into the ignition. The engine sputtered briefly, then suddenly roared back to life. He was about to step on the gas when a pale figure swam out into view of the front window. “Fucking Hell!”

“Aieeeeeee!” 2D screeched. As the figure got closer, it became clear that it was Cyborg, her skin tinted an eerie green by the seawater. She gestured for them to ascend with a jerky motion, swimming upwards herself. Murdoc, eyes glassy and hands shaky, did so, 2D’s rapid breathing grating against his senses.

It didn’t take too long for them to breach the surface, the submarine bobbing lazily on the calm sea. 2D started out over the waves with something akin to wonder. As he did, the hatch on the roof sprung open, and Cyborg dropped inside, stalking over to the controls.

“Sir, please vacate the captain’s seat so that I may pilot us back to base,” she ordered in her monotone, robotic voice. So far from the voice her’s was based on. Murdoc didn’t argue, and he scrambled out of the seat quickly taking his rum with him.

2D sat back in the co-pilot's seat, still shaking from fear and adrenaline. Going from thinking they were going to die, to listening to Murdoc’s ranting, and then knowing he was going back to Plastic Beach was wreaking havoc on his nerves. Behind him, he heard Murdoc shuffling around drunkenly on one of the cots. Laying down sounded nice, but he was rooted to the spot, eyes darting between Cyborg and the horizon.

When he saw the silhouette of Plastic Beach breach the horizon he had to blink a few times to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating. Cyborg kept a steady pace towards the docks, and before he knew it they’d arrived. To think that just a few hours ago he’d been so excited to go on a “trip” with the bassist.

“Please exit the vehicle,” Cyborg droned and she activated the hatch release. Finally, 2D felt he could move, and he all but ran to the ladder and hatch. Murdoc was right behind him, climbing the ladder and jumping out onto the dock with drunken fluidity. It was a miracle he didn’t fall into the water.

“Downstairs,” he ordered. 2D was happy to go back to his prison for once if it meant getting away from the bassist. Unfortunately, Murdoc followed close behind him. 2D paid him no mind and stomped up the beach, into the elevator, and down to his room. He made his way inside and attempted to swing the door shut behind him, but Murdoc stopped it.

“Why’re you followin’ me?” the singer snapped. Murdoc stood in the doorway, posture defeated. “I don’t wanna deal with you anymore today.”

“2D…” Murdoc sighed, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand. “Are you hungry? I could get Cyborg to--”

“JUST LEAVE ME ALONE!” Stu screamed, whipping around and stalking toward the other man. With significant strength he pushed Murdoc backward through the door, letting it slam closed. The bassist didn’t have time to react, not that he was sure what he would do if he had the chance. On the other side of the door, 2D slumped down to the floor, sobbing. Today had been too much.

Murdoc stood outside Stu’s room for a long time, idling and drinking from the bottle he’d brought back from the sub. He could hear 2D crying, though he could hear that most times, so he wasn’t sure if he was really hearing it or not. What did the singer want him to do? Murdoc stared down at the bottle in his hands helplessly. He hated feeling helpless or powerless, it made him unbelievably angry. With a growl and a shout, he swung the bottle against the wall, the tinkle of shattering glass doing nothing to ease his rage.

“Fuck you!” he shouted at the closed door before stomping away and into the elevator. He didn’t need this shit. Stu just didn’t understand, that was all. No one understood; Murdoc might as well be alone in the ocean. Set adrift on a slowly sinking submarine, doomed from the start.

#2doc #abuse #niccalpot #psychosis

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sniperofmyheart · 7 years

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STORY STARTERS MEME

Rules: List the first lines of your last 15 stories. See if there are any patterns. Then tag 10 of your favourite authors! Do it if you are interested? @maychorian @danosphere91 Tagged by @justira

I don’t even know if I have 15 stories. I am going with the first paragraph or first indent not including dialogue if that makes sense. Starting from most recent. I am including different chapters as otherwise I won’t have 15. I feel like I am missing a WIP but I can’t find it found it!

1. Sad Fic (WIP no real title yet)

“Hey guys!! Look who we’ve got!’

They hadn’t even arrived at Wano, and Luffy was already screaming. He stood on the railing and pointed proudly at Sanji, who tried his best to hide behind Brook. So much for a silent approach. Having just escaped from one Emperor, Sanji couldn’t shake the feeling that any second Kaido would come barrelling down on them. Best not to tempt fate. The Sunny pulled into the hidden harbour with very little fanfare, besides the fanfare that Luffy self generated. There was a crowd to greet them but first glance he couldn’t spot any familiar faces. There wasn’t a smile among them. Luffy was smiling enough for them all as he danced along the railing and dove into the crowd, his arms swinging back and shit, Sanji and the rest was dragged down as well. One of these days he was going to figure out how far that his damn captain could stretch and stay a good foot beyond that near any high places.

2. Chopper’s Dream (WIP. Title to change)

The lights were off in the infirmary. Sanji had seen Chopper run in not too long ago, so just in case, he knocked as he entered. Chopper did take reindeernaps in here after all.

“Chopper? I brought some tea and cookies, the ladies didn’t want it all”

The small reindeer had his head on the desk, turned, eyes staring into the wall

Sanji carefully set the platter between Chopper and the wall, and waited.

Chopper continued to stare through the ever so delicious tea and cookies at the wall.

3. Raftel (WIP)

They had finally made it, Raftel. The imposing cliff face loomed over them. All those years of fighting, crying and laughing, suddenly felt very small before it. Even Usopp, brave warrior of the sea that he was, felt his knees shake a little. This was the end. The last island, X that marks the spot. What could possibly be up there that was worth all this? Even with everything they had seen, if he was really honest with himself, Usopp had no idea what the One Piece was. A mountain of gold? “Made you look” ponoglyphed into a wall? A doodle of sea gull with God D roger’s autograph at the bottom? Nothing could surprise him anymore. He looked over at Robin, she probably had a better idea. Even with the wind splashing the stinging seawater into the crew’s eyes, she kept looking forward, unblinkingly.

4. Reindeernapping Chapter 4 (WIP)

The Sunny was docked slightly away from the main harbour, tucked away half hidden. Apparently the locals (thanks Franky for the intel) were okay with pirates as long as they were seen and not heard. Zoro was on the deck trying to sleep as Luffy continued the Chopper hunt. Cause of course Chopper might of just fallen asleep in a barrel or climbed up into the crow’s nest. Zoro couldn’t wait to see the shit cook’s face when he saw his kitchen, Luffy had opened every single drawer and cabinet, on the off chance that Chopper had somehow managed to shrink down to 6 inches and decided to hid with the spoons. Once he had satisfied himself that Chopper hadn’t buried himself into any of the bags of flour Luffy stumbled from the kitchen, caked in white powder and launched himself to the figure head. He lay out and stared at the sea

“This is sooooo booooringg! I want to look for Chopper too!”

5. Emergency Food Supply (WIP)

It has been 19 days, three hours, fifteen minutes and 30 seconds since they had last eaten. Not that Chopper was keeping count. Counting required energy. Luffy’s stomach didn’t so much as growl anymore, it was just a dull constant roar against the ocean. Despite Thriller Bark being behind them, they still couldn’t find their way out of the fog that was the Florian Triangle.

6. Shut Up Kiss Chapter 3 Lusopp

They were sailing away. The cannonballs crashing into the ocean were so loud that Usopp could barely think straight, but the silence from the ship was deafening. They were going to leave him.

“If that’s what you want… let me say one last thing. You guys…” he tries to yell but it only comes out as a kind of whisper. What was the point, his throat was already sore from screaming and they were sailing away.

7. Physician Inquisition

“I HOPE YOU CHOKE ON THAT APPLE AND DIE YOU BASTARD!”

BZZZZZZ

“GOD DAMN CHARLEY HORSE!”

BZZZZZZ

“HEY I AM NOT A HORSE! I AM A REINDEER”

BZZZZZZ

Nami poked her head into the sick bay,

“Is everything all right in there?”

8. Don't Play With Your Food

Sanji stared at the freezer door and took a deep breath. He must have misread it, or it was mislabeled, or this was all some kind of fevered dream. If this was a fever dream, he expected some beautiful dancing ladies. He opened the freezer door and pulled out the parcel. Venison. So not dancing ladies then. In little black letters clear as day and beside it almost as an afterthought, reindeer. It sounded like a devil fruit, the venison venison fruit mode reindeer. A small slightly hysterical laugh escaped his mouth and he bit his lip but it still echoed through the kitchen. This wasn’t a devil fruit or some kind of joke, it was a slab of meat. Reindeer meat. In his freezer. Outside he could hear the tap-tap of hooves and a gentle high-pitched laugh. Their emergency food supply new crewmate, he really should stop those jokes, was fitting in well. He stared harder at the letters willing them to rearrange themselves. Fantastic.

9. Wedding Feast

“Welcome to my humble kitchen Lord Sanji” the head chef was groveling so hard his white chef hat scrapped on the ground. His hat seemed wrong, too small.

“Get up. I just wanted to have a look around, it is my wedding feast after all.”

The chef straightened himself.

“Why yes Lord Sanji, of course. I had heard rumours that our great Lord spent some time at a restaurant, so any comments or suggestions are more than welcome.”

The bustle of white smocks around him, the sizzling of pans and the smell of garlic filled the room. Throw in some swearing and a few half dozen tattooed men and you would almost have the Baratie. For the first time since he had arrived at Germa Kingdom, he almost felt at home. He had missed the bustle and the noise. The kitchen was never quiet even back on the Sunny. Someone was always whining for more meat, trying to sneak sake or sweets, and trying to drink all of his milk or cola in one go. Or just dropping by to talk and getting bullied into cutting veggies and washing dishes. He really should ask Franky to put a lock on the door, give him some peace and quiet for a change. But then the ladies wouldn't be able to drop by. Choices choices.

10. Man Overboard

“MAN OVER BOARD MAN OVER BOARD”

Sanji was already in the water looking around frantically so Usopp though it was safe to check who had fallen in. As Chopper and Luffy were the ones yelling their heads off a bit further down the ship with fishing rod in hand, or well hoof, it wasn’t them. Brook had come running over with his violin (how that would help a drowning person is anyone’s guess), and he could see one of Robin’s hand with an eye in the centre sprouted on the side of the ship scanning the water as well. So it wasn’t any of the devil fruit users, that was a relief. Nami had poked her head out of the girl’s room to see what the fuss was about her mapping pen still in hand and Franky had poked his head out of the bathroom. Which left Zoro. Had he somehow managed to wander off the ship into the sea, was that even possible? There weren’t any marine ships around so it wasn’t a surprise attack that had knocked him in. Maybe he fell asleep on the railing and tipped over? But just as Usopp had settled on this, he heard a loud voice behind him “What is taking that damn curly brow so long?”

11. The Question

There is a rare moment of silence, the Merry has burned and the Straw Hats are wiping their eyes and trying to catch their breath. The mighty Sogeking takes a deep breath and grabs Luffy’s hand, half dragging him away from everyone else. Or at least he tries to, but dragging a rubber man by the hand is surprisingly difficult and kind of awkward. You end up standing a few feet away with his stretched arm between the two of you as he picks his nose with the other. After some anxious head tilting and whispering what could be misunderstood to be the word meat, Luffy shuffles over. It is quiet and Luffy has to lean in a little to hear it properly but Sogeking manages to squeak it out

“Can I join the crew?”

no bravado no tall tales and Luffy just smiles.

“No way!”.

12. Reindeernapping Chapter 3

He had built the Shark Submerge III to carry up to three people so with only himself inside there was plenty of room, but the metallic echo of his own breathing and the itching sense that time was passing too fast was making Franky feel queasy. Being a dozen or so feet underwater and forced to wear unnatural pants wasn’t helping matters either. He would give anything for that squeaky little voice to start chirping away, dancing around the cabin asking silly questions about what each button did. Instead there was silence. Franky stared out the reinforced glass viewing window scanning the ocean view. If Little Bro was here, he wouldn’t miss him. One of the handy things about being a cyborg was that blinking was purely optional. With a few drops in his eyes every morning, he might blink once or twice a day, if at all. He had won a lot of money off Long Nose Bro that way, the poor kid couldn't say no to a staring contest. Franky usually wore his shades to avoid giving anyone the creeps but with an empty submarine, that wasn’t an issue.

13. Reindeernapping Chapter 2

The pink and purple smoke was still hanging in the air. Franky couldn’t help asking

“How do you guys usually go about finding lost people? This can’t be the first time this has happened, right?”

“ Chopper just tracks Zoro-I mean Chopper tends to sniff people out” Long Nose answered.

”Fantastic ”

He had seen a bit of their finding people attempts back at Water Seven, and been less than impressed. Franky sat down with a thud on the grass.

14. Reindeernapping Chapter 1

Grocery shopping was distinctly not super. Franky and Reindeer Gorilla had gotten stuck with last minute supplies duty as Cook Bro was too busy protecting the fresh meat and booze from Straw Hat and Sword Bro. Cook Bro had given them an extensive list and Reindeer Gorrilla had his own list of herbs and textbooks he wanted to get. It all added up to quite a haul so someone needed to order and pay while Reindeer Gorilla lugged everything around. Merchants didn’t take kindly to animals placing orders. So Franky volunteered to be Reindeer Gorilla’s designated human. He wanted to get to know his new crew mates outside the yelling and screaming that was Enies Lobby. The market place was jam packed, a lot of elbows to the stomach and competing smells that didn’t quite go together. Fresh flowers, half rotten cabbages and the body odour of the crowd (he was going to have to force Lil Bro to take a bath eventually, the smell was ridiculous) were enough to make his nose rust. It kind of reminded Franky of back home, he has barely left it 72 hours ago and he was definitely not crying. Rubbing his super dry eyes, he stared down at Cook Bro’s list. It seemed like he had everything. A note was scribbled on the bottom ‘Absolutely no cotton candy, that means you Chopper' Franky snorted.

“Reindeer Gorilla, look at this-”

But he was speaking to thin air. The parcel packed Reindeer Gorilla was gone.

15. Shut Up Kiss Chapter 2 Lusopp

“Thinking back, when I was about to sail out, you guys asked me to join you. That's all that's tying us together. We don't have to-”

Something slams into Usopp’s face and everything goes dark. Luffy had been across the room sulking in the wrecked table, right? Had Luffy punched him? Or Gum Gum belled him in the face? Usopp peeks his eyes open, he didn’t remember closing them, and finds himself staring into black circles. Luffy was close, too close. Close enough for Usopp to pluck out his stupid eyelashes one by one. The words won’t come out, he can’t breath. Something was blocking his mouth or rather someone was. Luffy. This wasn’t a surprise punch to the face or a head butt. This was something else.

#wordsdear writes #my fan fic #someone make me write my wips #like pick a wip any wip #long post #oops forgot to put under a read more

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