#first fic!! :D | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mooonjin · 2 years

Text

The Past Behind Him

Notes: after rewatching season seven of the clone wars, echo being rescused from skako gave me this idea TT

Pairing: Echo x f!reader

Summary: Echo wasn't fond of the idea of a medic being assigned to Clone Force 99. Sooner or later, your past's are dug up during a not so nice situation.

Warnings/Tags: one or two insults, minor yelling (if you squint), mentions of blood/injuries, one(?) use of Y/N, mentions of tending to wounds — tell me if I've missed anything!

Part Two >

"Separatist?" Echo snapped, his fist landing on the transmission pad, shutting of the holo-profile. It certainly gave Tech a quite a fright. As soon as 'Separatist' left Tech's mouth, it was an immediate no. There was no way Clone Force 99 will be assigned an ex-separatist. How could've any of the Batchers completely disregard that?

Echo's past was rarely spoken about. They all heard he supposedly died at the Citadel in an attempt to rescue General Piell and Admiral Tarkin. Although it he was announced deceased on the battlefield, it turns out he wasn't. He was turned into a machine, a device, another pawn for the Separatist.

"Technically a former separatist. It appears she's no longer—"

"—I don't care whether she was or wasn't." Echo interrupted, having no care in what his brother had to say. Tech's mouth immediately shut tight, not wanting to rile up the ARC trooper who clearly had a problem with it.

The two clones were about to have a full on argument if Hunter didn't dismiss them to their own bunks. Tech rolled his eyes at how misunderstanding Echo could be.

Faint noises of Kamino waters gurgled outside their quarters. Admittedly, it was nice having some peace time on this planet. Usually, they would've been called up to Nala Se or to the training facility.

The productive silence was broken when a knock came from the door and shortly after, it opened up. Two clones in red coloured armor stood tall at attention. The Batcher's left their cots to stand in a uniform line at attention as well.

"At ease." The commander said with his modulated voice. The two troopers then left the entrance, leaving the clones inside more confused than ever.

You then came into view, replacing the guards' positions as you held a clipboard to your chest, your white Kamino-themed outfit reflecting the bright lights that certainly gained the squads attention.

"Hello," you waved at them, their eyes squinting like their lives depended on it, "Are you uh..." you quickly flipped a page against your clipboard to double-check who you were speaking to, "Clone Force 99?"

You assumed the one that did all the speaking was the individual wearing a bandana. He was fairly tall compared to you but slightly shorter than his brothers. Nonetheless, his eyes were judge-y. He scanned your figure silently.

"I'll take that as a no," your hand hovered over the door panel before he spoke up.

"Yes, this is Clone Force 99," you were relieved you didn't walk into the wrong barrack then, "and who are you?" Hunter backed away from you to give you some space noticing how your shoulders tensed up at his voice.

You tucked your red pen in your breast pocket before straightening out your uniform, "The medic personnel for your unit." you smiled, holding out your hand to shake his.

Hunter grinned slightly, looking back at his brothers who were sort of trying to welcome you. He shook your hand and you could swear it felt heavier than the shipment containers on Coruscant. His grip was firm and his shake almost made you stumble.

"Welcome then, the names Hunter," he turned around to the others who have dispatched to their bunks once again.

"That's Wrecker," he pointed at the big guy on the couch who was snuggled up with a plush toy.

"Crosshair," he gestured to the tall, white haired clone with a crosshair tattoo on his right eye. You presumed that's because of his name.

"Tech," his hand lay flat, palm to the ceiling like he was presenting the one with yellow goggles in front of a series of mechanical items. He seemed intelligent.

"And Echo," the only one who didn't make eye contact with you.

A small smile grew on your lips as you observed their barracks. It was... messy but it seemed cozy to them. It also kind of stunk, but you brushed it off considering the smell would be the least of your concern.

You pulled out a small, red comm link, and a transmission disk. You handed them both to Hunter who's eyebrows furrowed at the... gift?

"If you need any assistance, the comm link is to call me over if you're not in your barracks," you pushed a button, showing Hunter how it worked. Hunter gazed at you as he caught the sight of how you triggered the comm link; similar to how a seppie would, "and the transmission disk is for any display of injuries or further concern that needs me to look at anything you're not sure how to describe."

"Thanks—"

"—Oh! And this is my quarter number, but I'll mostly be in the medbay." you flipped open his wrist panel, tapping in some directions if they ever needed you.

And with that, you left their barracks hoping that summarised what your job was and how they could cooperate. Echo had the most disgusted look on his face.

"You saw it too?" Hunter asked Echo, already knowing how your ex-separatist actions slipped into your job.

"Of course I saw it." Echo grumbled.

You had been tending some of the 212th and the 501st in the medbay after a mission on Ryloth. Many stories were told when you sat down with a few of the troopers such as being attacked by gutkurrs, punching battledroids (because that was smart) and rescueing a few Twi'leks.

Waxer and Boil mentioned about saving a little girl which you thought was pretty adorable.

"Ooh, you might wanna be careful there, trooper," you chuckled as Waxer hissed, trying to sit up, “That wound isn't completely healed so for the mean time, you gotta rest up,” you gently patted his armoured shoulder piece and he sent you a kind smile.

Just as you were about to tend to the next unit, you received a beep coming from your breast pocket. It was the transmission disk assigned to Clone Force 99, "AZI, cover me for a while. Got a transmission incoming," you waved the disk at AZI before leaving the medbay area to go to your office.

You shut the door behind you and plugged the disk into the holo-table, the blue light of the transmission lighting up the room.

Hunter was kneeling down with Echo resting against his chest who looked like he passed out. His shoulder piece was slashed to bits as it clung onto him. Did it even look like a shoulder piece?

"Y/N, so glad you could chime in, Echo's sustained a massive hit from one of the walkers on Raxus. We don't really know what's happened but he's not waking up." Hunter's voice was low, but the tone of worry was prominent.

"We are currently entering Kamino's atmosphere,” you heard the modulated voice of Tech in the background.

You nodded at the Sergeant, your eyes scanning Echo's limp figure, "Bring him to medbay 02, I'll be waiting."

Hunter ended the transmission and the room faded back to black. This is the first transmission you've received from the clones using the disk. Most of the medical contacting they've done was through your comm channel.

Swiftly, you unplugged the disk from the table and shoved it down your pocket as you headed for the door. You were lucky Kamino invested in primarily sliding doors otherwise if you pushed it open, a loud bang would have been heard down the medbay halls. Professionally, you walked with quite some speed towards the other end of the medical wing to medbay 02 where you'll meet the boys.

As you reached the bay doors, you hastily grabbed your keycard to open them. Considering it wouldn't be a problem for the Batcher's to get in, you shut it behind you. There were two vacant rolling beds with plenty of machinery around it. A pre-made tray for injuries and examination sat next to one of them. It was filled with all kinds of tools and medication so you excluded the ones that were unnecessary for Echo's perusal.

You rolled the medical trolley to one of the beds. With your foot, you flicked the wheel locks so it would stay stationary. Since the other bed had wheels too, you gently pushed it back so it made more room for you to move around the space.

The medbay's sliding doors swooshed open, revealing the five Batcher's. One of Echo's arms were slung around Tech as Hunter cared for his other, Crosshair and Wrecker standing behind them for moral support for their brother.

Your eyes went wide at the state of the clone. He was beyond the stage of weak so you swooped under him, taking Hunter's place to assist his path to the medical bed.

"Tech, help me get his armour pieces off, please," Tech responded with a small nod, getting to work on Echo's kama and leg pieces. You heard the clang of his holsters as Tech set them down on the trolley.

You were surprised that he knew his way around the medical area. Gently, you clicked off his chest piece and set it beside his leg armour. Out of your periphal, you could see a very worried Wrecker, a hand of his snaking to the back of his neck to scratch it nervously.

"He'll be alright, Wrecker," you clicked off the last pieces of his armour and you silently thanked Tech, "I think it's best if I dismiss you all while I stay and examine Echo."

"With all due respect, sir, it’d be best for you to let us stay here and keep an eye on him," his hand came out in an objecting manner, "Just in case something goes wrong. We're his brothers after all."

You sent Hunter a simpering smile as you made your way around the bed to sit on a rolling stool, "With all do respect, Sergeant, it does seem we're in a medical atmosphere and I do outrank you in this... occupation." Hunter glanced at Tech who merely shrugged at him.

"Very well."

You gently lifted Echo's arm so it was elevated, "If it does make you feel better, you can wait outside as I do this?"

"Yes please!" you heard the big guy speak. The four troopers began to leave the room and your attention was brought back to Echo who was slowly waking up from his unconscious state.

There was a nasty slash on his left shoulder as you carefully rolled up his blacks so it only exposed his human arm. You hadn't realised until now that he had a mechanical arm; a scomp for a hand. You couldn't help but scan his body with your curious eyes. The whole half of his torso was practically machinery. Half-droid, half-human. You had also realised that his cybernetic headpiece made his head rest funny against the pillows.

You tucked a pillow under his neck in hopes it made him somewhat more comfortable, "Thanks," a low voice spoke below you. You almost yelped as you got used to the silence of tending to the clone below you.

"Oh good, you're awake," you chuckled as you went back to cater for his injury? "This is quite the emergency, huh?"

You fully expected a chuckle to come from the clone but it was just silence. His eyes peered down at you like a hawk hunting for its prey. It's almost as if you could feel his stare. You ran a bacta pad around the perimeter of his cut to clean the crusted blood. In return, Echo hissed at the sudden temperature change on his arm. Obviously when he sustained the injury, it felt like Mustafar was coming out of his shoulder.

"Sorry, trooper." you reassured him, placing a clean pad against his arm to wipe of the excess bacta.

"ARC trooper." he finally spoke after what felt like years. It was snappy but it got the message across.

You coughed, trying your best to clear the awkwardness, "Sorry, ARC trooper." you said more in his tone.

You put down the messy bacta pads in the bin after you cleaned the dirty skin around his cut. It looked like it needed to be stitched together and then submerged in more bacta. You reached over for some tools so you could begin the stitching at the top of his shoulder first.

As you looked over at the clone to tell him in a silent way you were going to stitch, his eyes were judging. He was staring.

Again.

"Echo? Y'here? I said I was going to begin your stitching?"

"You're part of the CIS."

You were slightly dumbfounded at the sudden topic, "What?"

"You're a separatist."

You chuckled at his stubborness. Was this a trait most clones have?

"Ex-separatist." you clarified, your voice more stern to gain dominance over the ARCT.

You sprayed the cuts' surface with numbing spray before you began stitching it. It was silent once again but Echo's mind was churning.

He still couldn't believe his team allowed you to be assigned to them. Especially a couple of months after his traumatic experience in becoming a pawn for the separatist knowing his brother's lost battles because of him.

"Still a separatist." it rolled of his tongue quietly.

"Well, at least I was smart enough to leave the CIS and join the Republic." you made your way inch by inch down his cut with skilled stitching. Echo hissed at some of your movements causing you to stop briefly before continuing.

"Took you long enough," he complained. "You could've been killing some of my brothers and for what? Feel of victory?"

You sighed, slowly growing irritated at the clone's words, "I never stepped foot on the battlefield. I worked on Admiral Trench's ship and improving droid programming," a thundering grumble escaped Echo's throat at the sound of Trench's name coming out of your mouth like it was nothing. You noticed how is human fist clenched, tensing up his arm that was still fresh with stitches.

"I advise you not to clench your hand like that, I'm still working on a raw cut here and I can't have you moving." you gritted your teeth, trying to stay as professional as possible.

"You sound like him too." he hissed, referring to Admiral Trench.

You shook your head at his response as you progressed lower and lower down his arm with the stitching. Yet the trooper was still going on about you.

"I really think you should be happy that I joined the GAR and left the CIS," your breath fanned against his non-injured skin. Admittedly, he was glad you're in the Republic now but couldn't help that you worked for the seppies for who knows how long. "I joined them because they were willing to help when the Republic wouldn't."

"Yeah? CIS went out of their way to take innocnet lives captive for territory and authority. Does that solve your issues?" Echo said, agitated.

"Your society surrounding the GAR was corrupt and selfish—"

"You sound a lot like the seppies I used to battle."

"Your past shouldn't be determining the future."

"Don't mention anything about my past, separatist scum." it was too quick to process. He sat up, his face inches away from yours that was filled with more than anger; teeth gritting and eyes squinting at you. You glanced everywhere besides him, his gaze was dominating and dark, making you feel inferior even in his injured condition.

The bay doors swooshed open. Hunter was astonished to find his brother getting all up in your face when you were helping him heal, "Echo!" he barked, clanking footsteps making their way over to you two.

"It's okay, Sergeant," you put your hand against Echo's healthy shoulder to push him back down on the bed. "It was just a triggered reaction." you sighed, looking back at Echo. Luckily, the stitching was complete so all you had to do was wrap him in infused bacta bandages.

Hunter was breathing heavily, "Yeah..." Echo murmured. Hunter nodded at you before making his way out of the medbay. He was more than sure to have a stern chat with Echo later.

As you went to sit back down in your rolling stool, you faced away from Echo. Solely because you didn't want to make him angry even more that'll lead him to be even more injured. You opened a drawer to fish out some infused bacta bandages to wrap the cut in.

Surprisingly, Echo's eyes softened. Your posture seemed weaker, your back arching instead of up straight like most doctors did. He felt bad for snapping at you and getting up in your face but cowardly, he didn't say anything.

What he thought he said was right so why did he have to say something? Instead he kept quiet as you finally turned to him just to avoid eye contact and get his bandages over and done with.

It was a simply roll, wrap, and knot for a shoulder.

"Done." you were a lot quieter now, thinking any more words that left your mouth would trigger something worse from him. You pressed a red button on the side of the bed to let the Batchers know that his brother was ready to move but needed to rest more.

The doors slid open as the four clones walked in. Echo glanced at you one more time before pushing himself to stand. He wobbled a bit, alerting Tech to support him under his right arm. Hunter was happy that Echo seemed better than he was straight out of the battlefield. He went to go thank you, but you raised a hand in front your chest to stop him, flashing him a reassuring smile before walking out of the room.

All the clones watched as you hurriedly exited the room, their eyes eventually turning to Echo.

Hunter spoke up.

"What did you say to her?"

Post-Notes: now that i look back, the ending does sound like a pull to a part two... i wasn't planning on making one but if you guys do really want one, let me know! i hope you enjoyed :p

#echo the bad batch #star wars #ct-1409 #arc trooper echo #the bad batch #the bad batch x reader #echo x reader #clone trooper x reader #mooonjin #first fic!! :D

367 notes · View notes

cranity · 9 months

Text

Open Me Up: Chapter 5, Pandemonium

Inspired by @what-immortal-hand-or-eye's fic :]

#highly recommend the first fic in the series its my fav vashwood fic TvT #trigun #vashwood #vash the stampede #nicholas d. wolfwood #my art

4K notes · View notes

myrathefarmer · 2 months

Text

Old comic page of one of my favorite fics out there - “The Ogre”, the second part of an amazing au by @sixteenth-days and their cowriter Zeph!

#my art #zombie cleo fanart #zombiecleo #joe hills #joe hills fanart #i would really really love to keep doing these #But I’m not sure I’ll be able to #So I’m at least showing off the first page :D #I love this fic. So much

580 notes · View notes

tangledinink · 2 months

Text

:000 happy one year of i'm sorry, teenage mutant what now?

839 notes · View notes

fluffyartbl0g · 1 year

Text

Someone get this man a younger sibling that ISNT like. Twice his height.

#one piece #op fanart #monkey d. luffy #shirahoshi #kozuki momonosuke #IVE FINISHED REREADING THROUGH WANO IM OBSESSED WITH MOMONOSUKE NOW #I LOVE HIM SO MUCH AND I MISS HIM SO MUCH T - T!!!!#literally tears streaming down my face ‘But I think of you like a little brother!#You’ve heard of laser beam that make you read one piece #get ready for laser beam that makes you REREAD one piece #srsly. do it. I didn’t care about characters like bellamy or shirahoshi or even momonosuke all that much on my first read through #IM OBSESSED NOW. I LOVE HARUDJIN THE GIANT TOO AND I CANT WAIT TO SEE MORE OF HIM T - T!!! I ALSO DIDNT CARE ABOUT KATAKURI LIKE AT ALL #NOW I CANT GET ENOUGH #also what the actual heck guys. I know its only been a couple of months since wano ended.#but why aren’t there any fics centred on luffy and momo being brothers… There’s like one on ao3 and it’s in italian…#PEOPLE ARE ACTUALLY SLEEPING SO HARD ON LUFFY BEING THE OLDER BROTHER/MENTOR TO BOTH MOMO AND SHIRAHOSHI #IM SO MAD #SHIRAHOSHI AND MOMO ARE BOTH THE CHOSEN ONES ; - ;!!! AND LUFFY HAS BEEN PROHPESIZED TO HELP GUIDE THEM TO USE THEIR POWERS!!!#eg shirahoshi hearing the voices of the sea kings and momo hearing zunesha #both times luffy hasn’t been able to talk to them… but he’s been able to guide his younger siblings to use their powers properly #No im fr obsessed with luffy and shirahoshi and momo WHERE THE GOD DAMN FANFICTION AAAGFRGEHSHHSHSHS #LUFFY TREATING SHIRAHOSHI AND MOMO THE SAME WAY ACE TREATED HIM WHEN HE WAS YOUNGER T - T #KILL ME AAAAA1!!1!1!1!!1!1!1 #99 percent of all tags on my posts are just me freaking out LMAOOOO

2K notes · View notes

rexwrendraws · 2 months

Text

[AO3 LINK] 🪸My illustration for Hell or High Water by @teejaystumbles for @the-centennial-husbands-bigbang !! I was super, super excited to illustrate for this fic, check it out for some very cool Little-Mermaid-meets-Innsmouth Dreamling vibes 🌊 :D

#centennial husbands big bang #centennial husbands big bang 2024 #centennialhusbandsbigbang #the sandman #dreamling #hob gadling #morpheus #dream of the endless #hell or high water #rex draws #my first big bang ever!! and honestly what a fantastic fic and au in general i cant wait to draw more for it for fun :D

339 notes · View notes

asliceofzosan · 6 months

Text

sanji has always known he loved zoro.

subconsciously.

it's hidden in the steps he takes to maneuver around the sleeping marimo on the deck. it's written in the recipes he creates to account for the amount of nutrients he needs for his frankly ridiculous workout routine. it's embedded so deeply in the way he fights, back to back, one leg swinging in perfect synergy with zoro's blade. how he stands on his blind side more often on the field. but stands on his good side when they have a conversation.

so the words "i love you" come naturally to him. it's like he was always meant to say it to zoro. his presence was an appetizer. his words, the entreé. his actions, a delectable dessert that even his sweets-hating boyfriend craves for after a long day.

but sanji has never heard those three little words from zoro. not even once.

and sure, it's not like he goes around saying i love you to every beautiful lady he meets. he knows the gravity of such words. he knows how someone saying it can affect you in ways that can barely be comprehended by the human mind. it stirs something within ourselves that awakens the age old yearning to be cherished. to be held.

to be worth something to someone.

sanji can remember the rare times someone said i love you to him. once held in his mother's arms in a tender embrace that weakens with each passing second, it was whispered against his temple, frail fingers combing through his hair, and he cries without knowing that it would be the last time he hears those words for a very long time. once shaking in zeff's arms as the nightmares roar louder in his head than the storm that rattled the windows of the newly opened baratie, the older man choosing to be gentle with the child he willingly gave everything to in order to survive.

he's never heard it from someone who loved him like a partner. loved him like an equal. loved him in ways lovers are supposed to love each other.

maybe it's because he never had one of those until zoro. for the longest time, he survived on fairy tales and myths and legends. oral tradition passed down through generations of every family he encounters on their adventures out at sea. and though his life as a prince was nothing like the pictures painted in children's books, he always longed for a princess of his own. someone he could save from the proverbial tower guarded by a fearsome dragon.

he wanted someone to love him like a hero. their hero. someone who admires him for all the things he desperately projects for others to see him as worth keeping around.

zoro isn't a princess by any means. he's honestly so much more like the dragon. but also not. fearsome as he is fearful. immensely strong as he is soft hearted. a steady pillar as he is the first to crumble at sanji's touch.

and zoro never admired him like a hero. never cared about the best foot forward sanji took care to show others. in fact, he saw right through him from the very moment they met. it irritated sanji to no end how someone like that stupid marimo could read him like an open book. he took care to make sure the pages of his story that he deems undesirable were sealed away under lock and key. no one needed to know the plot points that brought him where he is. he needs to be the hero. he needs to be seen as the hero in his story.

but who exactly was he trying to save?

what kind of hero has no one to save?

it took several years for him to realize that the person he needed to save was himself. and zoro knew that.

of course he fucking did.

he never mollycoddled him. never softened the blow. always blunt and direct with him. it drove sanji up the wall once with how little tact he had. eventually, he actually started to appreciate how zoro never once sugarcoated anything with him. if he was upset, he'd show it. if he was happy, it would shine in his gaze clear as day.

and if he was in love?

well.

sanji can admit it took him much longer to realize that the love he felt for zoro was not only reciprocated but was so much deeper than what three little words could possibly convey.

there's a permanent space for zoro next to sanji, right in front of the sink, when dinner is over and the soapy water goes up to his elbows. the windows are always open in the crow's nest when sanji's watch comes right after zoro's, just enough for the smoke to escape but the smell to linger. the wordless nod zoro gives him when sanji is combing through marketplaces and dragged him along to be his pack mule. the strategically placed shoulder for him to jump off of when sanji needs to launch himself at an oncoming enemy.

the 2am fights that devolve into holding each other and apologizing without saying any words at all.

the way zoro carries him back to his bunk when he's fallen asleep in the galley writing recipes down. the kiss to his forehead. the hand that runs through his hair.

and here sanji thought his actions were the sweet dessert. for in the dead of night, when no one is watching, zoro's devotion is blinding. zoro's love shines like a beacon in a dark, stormy night.

the dragon perched on the roof of the tower, breathing fire for the lost prince to find his way home.

so sanji lets zoro comb through the pages of his story that he doesn't tell anyone else. he lets zoro guide his hand to flip to the blank pages, allows him to convince him that the parts of his story that mattered are the ones written by his own hand. and if the pages are soon filled with endless adventures of the prince and his swordsman, no one else will really understand it.

no one except zoro.

so yes. sanji always knew he loved zoro and that zoro loved him back just as fiercely or maybe even more.

even if he never heard those three little words.

what sanji doesn't know, is that when zoro is sure he is fast asleep, zoro whispers those words against sanji's ear. like a revenant prayer to a god. zoro doesn't believe in god.

but he believes in sanji. he always did.

#i cooked smth at the dead of night again hi everyone #one piece #roronoa zoro #zosan #roronoa zoro x vinsmoke sanji #niki's fics: three little words #i saw someone post about how sanji probably said i love you first and zoro never actually saying it and well... this happened #: D

763 notes · View notes

chinelacanta · 20 days

Text

i love putting dragon in Situations <3

BIG FAN of the ‘dragon is xebec’s son’ but i can’t decide if i like it in a funny way or a sad way 😭. do you think dragon thought he’d loose his father’s love if he knew he was taken in by a marine. do you think he mourned garp’s favor when he also failed to be a ‘good man’ and turned to revolution, that he wasted garp’s life efforts in saving a child from evil and a life lead to a death sentence. do you think dragon grieves that he managed to disappoint both his fathers. do you think that when he held luffy for the first time he realized he was no different then xebec, that he’d condemned his child to the stake for the crime of existence, a life of loneliness if he lived, a forced marine career and shackled dreams from his only ‘relative’. hey man what if i cried real hard abt it

#god i dont ask much #just one (1) dragon centric fic one shot where he Copes with things #it will never happen and for that i weep #probably definitely not canon but i like to imagine xebec as an Ok father #dudes not great but like 😭 let dragon have a good parent in his life #this au to me is literally ‘at first i loled but then i serioused’. i cant be trusted to have nice dragon thoughts #this au probably exists for the powerscalers BUT I DONT CARE IM RECLAIMING IT FOR THE THEMATICAL VALUES #THE INHERENT DRAMA #AURGHHHHHHHH #monkey d garp #monkey d dragon #one piece #my art!!

292 notes · View notes

shattersstar · 1 year

Text

bound

pairing: vampire x reader

summary: He supposed this was his true home, not the house he had kept himself locked in, but the wooden box with your picture in it. Dutifully kept under his pillow, bringing you to the land of dreams with him—if he could dream. It was a bitter punishment for the life he lived, the transgression—sin—he supposed would be held against the two of you. For how he wanted you more than anything, how he would tear whole cities to shreds at your behest and let the hunters who lurked in your town meet his fangs if you so desired. It was gluttony, to take eternal life and still want more.

warning: horror-ish elements, blood mention., religious undertones (aka general vampire themes/concepts)

a/n: i have so much to say about this lil piece of writing omg okay, i wrote this back in May i believe around the time i was reading we have always lived in the castle and it Shows. its lowkey fantasy which is not like anything i write but the horror-ish vibes r pretty consistent with my original stuff. it is heavily inspired by a lot of the vampire media ive consumed too though even if its not based on one particular character. i have been thinking about it since i wrote it and while im a bit ehhh about posting something original i quite literally have nothing else to share and as i said before y’all keeping i’d still eat the fruit in my notifs is so :)))) so this is a thank you to y’all and a Step back into writing for me hopefully. ramble aside enjoy ! feedback and comments r always appreciated

—

It had rained, no—poured, stormed, hailed, cried, screamed. It had swept in during the day, white noise to him as he slept, while it greeted you during breakfast. The clouds wept over the lands in what felt like divine punishment. It was as if nature or something higher than that was against him, accosting or trying to stop him. As he stood at the edge of the great forest, rain pelting the top of his head he assumed there was nothing greater than nature. Not even him. There was nothing higher nor more humbling. God could spite someone, but nature enacted it. It flooded your sleepy town and even sleepier forest and he was on the other side. Confined to his home until the storm cleared and the sun rose.

He would not be graced with your presence yet again and he tried to ignore the call to change you, to have his fangs pierce your skin and his blood run across your tongue. He gritted his teeth, reminding himself of the hurt it brought and he would never cause that for his love. His dearest who lived on the other side of the forest he was unable to cross. His icy glare moved along the border, not even noticing the rain drenching his billowing black cloak anymore. Somewhere in the forest a branch snapped and animals chattered.

He would live for eternity, he could wait for you. It was his resolution before heading back to his home in the woods and trying not to be angry, to let fury run through his long dead veins and restart his stilled heart. If anything—anyone—could, he knew it was you.

He followed the path compacted over the years of those travelling to stare at his home, humans daring each other to go near it, but never following through when the windows shuddered and a figure moved past one of them like a ghost. Times had changed, but people were as superstitious as ever. They saw his decayed and rotted home and prescribed evil to it. It was overrun with vines, leaves would not grow on them. Even in spring. They stayed black, and gnarled, tightening their hold in his house each season. Thorns protruding from some of the thicker vines, protecting him it seemed. You had noted that, staring at his wondrous home with bright eyes.

It was in a clearing in the forest, grey stone withered away and swallowed by nature. It still stood strong, the outside a grotesque picture that did not reflect the inside. Oil lamps and lighting fixtures alike lit the space from the inside out. It warmed the walls, revealing the deep brown wood panelling that made up the older parts of the house. The stairs were still the original wood, a grand staircase that greeted no one, but him and you these days.

Many of the rooms upstairs had been closed off, sheets gently placed over the old furniture and doors closed forever. He had no need for such space, other vampires stopped visiting when hunters started lingering in your town. You had told him of your many encounters, most were smart enough to stay out the forest, but they still killed many of his kind. Finding them in their carriages amongst the cars rolling down the freshly paved roads. Horses killed along with whoever dwelled inside. They saw themselves as vigilantes, but you had told him most of your town considered them a nuisance. Urban men thinking they can save the more rural lands that bordered their great cities. Cities that forgot the magic that once thrived in places like the forest.

“Their thinking of building a highway through it, connecting us to other towns or one of the bigger cities.” You had explained one day, sitting in his lap and letting him hold you. He hummed, long fingers curling into the fabric of your sweater. You placed your warm hand over his and leaned further into his chest. He asked you to let him hold you and you had obliged like always.

He kept those memories in mind, the soft questions he would extend your way and how you listened so dutifully. May I hold you? Will you lay with me? Come walk through the cellar? Can I drink your—

His fist slammed against his dinning room table, nearly snapping it in two as a crack ran jagged through the centre of the chestnut coloured wood. His fangs were out, nails morphed into claws dug into his skin and blood dripped into the crack. He stared at it, muscles in his face twitching as he waited for it to end. Waited for the creature in him to return to laying dormant and his own clear, sound mind to return. Though he supposed it was never very clear or sound anymore, not when you had burrowed inside of him and promised to never leave. And as if his thoughts beckoned you themselves, the old telephone in his study rang. It’s shrill scream echoed through the quiet house, though the ring was discordant, snapping in two halfway through its loop and screeching a pitch higher. The noise made his pointed ears twitch and with a swoop of his cloak he was in his study. He answered it on the normal ring, cutting it off right before it went off tone.

He held the phone to his ear, but waited to speak. “Hello?” You asked, your voice soft and worried. You’d never called him before—truthfully he had no idea this phone even worked.

“Hello my love.” He returned, and you breathed out a happy sigh.

“Oh my god, hi! I found this number in some old directory—phone book thing,” You explained with an airy giddiness that he wished to share, “I wasn’t sure if it was going to work, but…” You trailed off and he was smiling fondly into the receiver.

“I have missed you.”

“I miss you too, I hate this weather I can never get through the forest when its so rainy.”

“I know.”

“Maybe they should build a highway through it, I could hitchhike my way to see you.” You laughed, but he turned somber. Industrialization finally touching the sacred land of the forest didn’t sit right within him. It may be the great divider that kept him away from you, but it was his home. A highway felt like you were asking to be swept away, to a new town or bigger city that he could not adventure too. He could ask you to stay—he knew you’d oblige—but it was not his place to keep you here. “Is your phone one of those spin, dial ones?” You asked suddenly, breaking through the tension he hadn’t meant to create.

“A rotary phone?” He corrected with a ghost of a grin, “Yes it is.”

“I want to see it when I come over again.”

“And so you will.” It was quiet again and he hadn’t noticed the tears running down his face. He didn’t know he was able to cry anymore.

“I love you.” You whispered, holding your cellphone close, likely curled up in bed and staring out your window at the rain and the forest beyond it.

“I love you dearest.” His voice did not betray the sadness building in him. “Sleep beloved, I will see you soon.”

“Yes, I’m gonna come see you and your rotary phone.” You laughed, forced and watery.

“Soon.”

“Soon.” You repeated, and hung up. He kept the black phone, laced with intricate gold details, to his ear for a moment longer. He had heard your voice at least and could sleep. He moved through his home, snuffing out candles and flicking off switches before finding the one room without windows. A coffin laid on the floor, dark brown and glistening with the finish that had been applied centuries ago.

He supposed this was his true home, not the house he had kept himself locked in, but the wooden box with your picture in it. Dutifully kept under his pillow, bringing you to the land of dreams with him—if he could dream. It was a bitter punishment for the life he lived, the transgression—sin—he supposed would be held against the two of you. For how he wanted you more than anything, how he would tear whole cities to shreds at your behest and let the hunters who lurked in your town meet his fangs if you so desired.

It was gluttony, to take eternal life and still want more.

Though it was hard to think of such evil things when looking at your face, he had taken the photo while you were on the roof. Wind had wiped your clothes into a frenzy and you laughed as the night sky twinkled behind you. He had taken it and was surprised when you’d given it to him only a few days later. He had kept up with modern technology as well as he could, but there was always something so magical about photographs to him. He collected hundreds over his life time, faces he knew and others he didn’t. Organized neatly into a collection of books, which he’d let you look through on occasion. He showed you photos from the many lives he’s lived, something about them bringing warmth rushing to your face.

He was always so devastatingly beautiful, regal and hypnotic across all eras. Yet, he couldn’t focus on the kind words that bubbled from your lips as the rushing of the blood under your skin nearly shattered something inside of him. His fangs threatened to meet your skin, but with calculated focus he reigned in his hunger. It was hard at first—you were the only human he had been around in decades—but he did it for love.

Everything he did was for love, it was his reason for existence it seemed. You had other reasons for your claim to life, but to him? You were all he had, the only reason to not let the sun engulf him or let a hunter kill him. He could not break your heart until you broke his. He let that thought dwell in his mind as sleep overtook him just as the sun rose and the rain ended. Its incessant pitter patter had ceased and he somehow dreamt of you standing golden in the forest and beckoning him closer.

He woke up to your face—maybe it wasn’t a dream—as you crouched next to his coffin. Maybe he had finally died and you were welcoming him to where God decided to send him. If you were there it couldn’t be hell. Could it be?

“My love—“ Your hand pressed to his chest, keeping him still. “It’s still daytime, sleep okay?” You whispered, hand moving to his jaw and cradling his face in your palm for a moment. “I’ll be back in a sec okay, I just need to change.” He nodded against you, kissing your hand before you let him reside in darkness. He had caught a glimpse of your pants caked in mud and could smell the blood from your skinned palms. Despite the slick terrain it seemed you ventured through the forest to see him. It made his chest shudder and for a moment he thought you had actually restarted his heart.

It was only a few minutes later when you were carefully opening his coffin again, now dawning a loose fitting silk shirt that made his red eyes alight with something wild. You had cleaned your scrapes and mud off your skin, smelling faintly of rain water and the lavender soap you gifted him. You stepped over him, nestling against his side and letting him enclose the two of you. One of his arms wrapped around your shoulders as your head rested on his chest, knuckles grazing over your hair while you stretched an arm across his torso. Your legs intertwined with his long ones and you let out a breathy sigh.

“Are you hurt?” He asked, and while you likely couldn’t see as thing, he could see you perfectly. You shook your head no against his chest, yawning into the fabric of his shirt.

“I just wanted to see you.” You murmured, chin resting in his chest as you made hit best attempt at eye contact in the blackness. “I saw the dining room table, are you okay?” You asked, somehow staring through him in the darkness. He offered his hand instead of finding the words in his throat, slowly unravelling his fist to reveal a mark free palm. He wasn’t sure you understand what he meant or if your eyes adjusted enough yet, until you carefully closed it once again, kissing his knuckles and placed your hand over his. You both were silent for a moment, until you looked up at him again and breathed, “You’re all I want.”

“And you’re all I have.” He held you closer, watching a grin pull at the corner of your lips. He was sure it was that devotion, obsession even, with you that would bring about his downfall. Centuries old and all powerful, but reduced to nothing without you. His strength and knowledge meant nothing if he didn’t have you to share it with.

And you could not stand your stagnant life in a town full of people who wished his kind dead. You chose a trek through the forest during the twilight hours of the morning to see him, bringing him soft kisses and silk under his hands as you let your mouth meet his. You kissed him with all the exhaustion and lethargy wrapped up in the two of you, molasses slow kisses that were just as sweet. It was how you fell asleep, lips to his neck and head tucked under his chin before your warm breathed puffed across his pale skin. He fell asleep not long after, engulfing you in his embrace, his cloak draping over your frame as he decided home was where you asked him to be.

2K notes · View notes

lllluffyvert · 2 months

Text

It happens in the blink of an eye. Sunny skies are darkened by menacing storm clouds, and calm waters turn into monstrous waves that smash into the Going Merry, violently rocking the ship and sending its passengers flying.

Nami is shouting frantically, but her words are drowned out by the deafening roar of the wind and booming thunder. Lightning strikes, and in the fraction of a second that it illuminates the world around them, Zoro catches a glimpse of Nami’s horrified expression as she points towards the bow of the ship.

“-overboard!”

It’s the only word Zoro hears, and dread pools in the pit of his stomach as he realizes its meaning.

Luffy.

Without a moment’s thought for his own safety, Zoro leaps over the ship’s railing and dives into the ferocious sea. It’s bitingly cold and a shock to his senses, but he recovers quickly and swims down against the push and pull of the waves.

The water is nearly black as pitch, making it hard to orient himself. His lungs begin to burn with the need for oxygen, but he can’t fucking find Luffy. He searches desperately until he’s forced to come up for air, calling out for his captain in between gasping breaths.

Lightning flashes, and there, riding atop the next wave is a familiar straw hat. A rush of adrenaline pumps in his veins and Zoro swims harder than he ever has, until he reaches his captain's prized possession, tying it securely around his arm before he takes a deep breath and dives beneath the surface.

The seconds feel like hours and his muscles are screaming, but finally he spots the bright, floral pattern of Luffy’s Hawaiian shirt. He’s sunk nearly to the ocean floor, completely unresponsive to Zoro, who grabs hold of him and pulls him up until they’ve broken the surface.

The storm rages on around them, and Zoro holds onto Luffy for all that he’s worth as they’re slammed by wave after wave and swallowed up by the inky black sea.

Zoro stirs and feels cool sand shift beneath him, soothing to his skin which burns under blistering rays of sun. His head pounds dully, his mouth is bone-dry, and it takes him a long second to gather his bearings before it all comes rushing back and he jumps to his feet, eyes frantically scanning the bank until he catches sight of Luffy only a few yards to his right, and relief washes over him. The feeling is short-lived, however, when he realizes that Luffy isn’t moving but lying prone and uncharacteristically silent.

Zoro stumbles towards him, panic coiling in his gut as he drops to his knees and carefully turns Luffy onto his back, gently brushing the sand from his face.

“C’mon Luf. Wake up.” He pats Luffy’s cheeks in a futile effort to arouse him, and when that doesn’t work, he slides his arm underneath his captain’s neck and lifts him, shaking his shoulders with a bit of force. “Luffy, wake up. C’mon, you’re okay.”

Luffy’s head lolls lifelessly. His breathing is ragged and shallow, and his normally bronzed, sun-kissed complexion is unnaturally pale.

Zoro cradles Luffy to his chest and wishes Chopper were here, and tries to imagine what the doctor would do in this situation. Check for injuries, probably. Find the root of the problem. Yeah, that was a good start.

Zoro looks over Luffy’s arms, his legs, pulls aside his water-logged shirt and checks his stomach and back. Minor scrapes here, a few bruises there, but nothing he wouldn’t usually bounce back from. He thinks about the possibility of an internal injury, and curses vehemently under his breath, feeling woefully inadequate.

He does the next best thing that comes to mind, scooping his captain into his arms gingerly and making towards the tree line, into the shade and away from the water and burning sun. They’d washed up on a relatively small, crescent shaped island, only a few yards of white sand away from dense, tropical foliage that was several degrees cooler than the beach. The grass under Zoro’s boots was soft from recent rain, and he carefully sets Luffy down on a large patch, taking a minute to brush the sweaty curls from his forehead and rest his palm there like he’d seen Chopper do before. It’s searing to the touch and beaded with sweat. Fuck.

Okay. Think. Zoro wracks his brain. He remembers when Nami was sick, how Vivi had her wrapped up warm, but also kept a cold cloth to her face. He removes his bandana and jogs back to the beach, dips it in the cold sea water and rings it out before folding it and placing it tenderly on Luffy’s forehead, letting his fingers trace lightly over his captain’s flushed cheek.

“I’ll be right back, Luf,” he says quietly, standing and reaching for his swords. He doesn’t have a blanket, so starting a fire sounded like the best alternative, and with a quick series of effortless swipes he has a pile of firewood big enough to last the night. Doing things survival-style is definitely in his wheelhouse, and it doesn’t take long before he has a decent fire going, and he uses some of the extra logs to build a small lean-to over where Luffy lay.

He checks on his captain, gauging his temperature again and grimacing when Luffy shivers despite being soaked with sweat. He considers their damp clothing and decides to strip their shirts to hang over the flames. His hands hesitate over Luffy’s chest, and he mumbles an awkward apology before gently removing the garment, wishing he had something to wrap around him while the shirts dried and hoping the lean-to would retain enough of the fire’s heat to suffice in the meantime.

“Hang in there, Captain,” he murmurs, and combs his fingers through Luffy’s hair.

Fire, check. Shelter, check. Next up, food and clean water. Finding both is a simple matter, and Zoro is thankful for the island's small perimeter as he returns to their little camp with a couple of rabbits and a flask of crystal clear water from a near-by trickling stream. It was a miracle that the ocean hadn’t stolen the flask of rum from where he’d had it tucked into his waistband, and a bit of a shame he had to pour it out to fill with water instead, though not before taking one last swig. He figured he had a long night ahead of him.

Their shirts are dry and warm by the time he returns, and he wraps Luffy’s around him snugly before slipping gratefully into his own. The sun has begun to dip below the horizon and a chill settles over the island. Zoro dresses the rabbits and lets them slow-roast over the crackling fire before dropping to the ground beside Luffy, suddenly exhausted.

He blinks bleary eyes and pinches himself to stay awake, at least long enough to make sure Luffy gets something to eat. He watches the sparks from the fire until the rabbits are cooked through, removes them from the spit and tears the tender meat into bite sized pieces. Done with that, he gently pulls Luffy into his lap, props his head on his shoulder and tries to feed him some of the rabbit, concern growing sharply when Luffy’s nose scrunches in revulsion and he turns his head away, choosing instead to bury his face in Zoro’s chest.

It was absolutely unheard of for Luffy, of all people, to reject food, and so to see him like this now rang alarm bells in Zoro’s head. He feels an oncoming migraine.

“You gotta eat something, Luf,” he pleads. “You’ll feel better afterwards.”

“‘M cold.”

It’s the first thing Luffy has said since they washed up on the island, and Zoro’s heart aches at how pitiful the barely whispered words sound from his usually loud and chipper captain. He sets the food down, leans back against the wood frame of the makeshift shelter and wraps his arms around Luffy, holding him close and doing his best to warm him. Luffy’s labored breathing eases some, and he melts into the embrace, a softly whispered “Zoro” spilling from his lips before he passes out.

Zoro props his chin atop his captain’s soft, dark curls, closes his heavy eyes and falls asleep.

Zoro wakes to the sound of footsteps and instinctively reaches for his sword, remembers Luffy in his lap and curls around him protectively with Wado Ichimonji pointed menacingly in the direction of whoever was rapidly approaching their camp.

“Found you!” Chopper bursts from the bushes and excitedly bounds over to them with a huge grin, until his eyes fall to Luffy, unconscious and sweaty in the crook of Zoro’s arm, and his expression is stricken. “W–what happened to Luffy?!”

Zoro had dropped his sword the moment Chopper hopped into view, overwhelmed with relief at the sight of the doctor. “I don’t know,” he says. He picks up the sword, sheathes it, and stands, cradles Luffy to his chest and looks Chopper square in the face. “But I know you can fix it.”

His words are spoken with complete confidence. Chopper nods solemnly and Zoro follows the doctor back to the Going Merry.

The other members of the Straw Hats meet them on the beach, and they instantly crowd around Zoro and Luffy, each of them exclaiming the same questions simultaneously.

“What happened to Luffy?!”

“Are you okay?!”

“I don’t know,” Zoro repeats, “And I’m fine.” He walks past them in quick strides to keep up with Chopper, pulling Luffy ever closer to his chest, suddenly loath to let him go as he boards the ship. In the medical bay, he carefully lays his captain on the bed, takes a step back, and feels distinctively colder.

Chopper bustles around him, hastily gathering various glass bottles and a mixing bowl before shooing Zoro from the room.

“I do my best work alone,” he says apologetically, and closes the door in Zoro’s face.

Zoro sighs, and then stiffens as the weight of the other crew member’s gazes hits him. He turns and finds Nami, Sanji, and Usopp staring at him expectantly.

He fills them in, omitting some unnecessary details.

“He didn’t want to eat?” Nami anxiously bites her nails and looks to the med-bay door.

“Let’s not worry until Chopper says to worry, Nami,” comforts Sanji.

As much as Zoro hates to agree with the cook, he has a point. Chopper was damn good at his job, and Zoro had total faith in his abilities. With this in mind, he looks to Sanji and says:

“I’m fucking starving.”

It’s a few hours before Chopper clops into the kitchen, looking tired but happy. Zoro’s shoulders sag as any concerns are alleviated.

“He’s sleeping now,” says the doctor, and he smiles at Zoro. “Good job keeping his temperature stable.”

Feeling strangely embarrassed, Zoro simply nods in reply.

“So,” Usopp prompts, “What was it?”

“Poison,” Chopper says, “From a species of native octopus.” He shakes his head, suddenly serious. “Another two days could’ve been fatal.”

“But he’s fine?” Nami asks, brows furrowed.

“Yes,” Chopper assures them. He turns to Sanji and grins. “And he’ll be hungry when he wakes up.”

“Aye aye, a feast for le Capitaine.” Sanji lights a cigarette, rolls up his sleeves and flashily spins a gleaming butcher’s knife on the tip of his finger. “Leave it to me.”

Zoro debates asking Chopper to let him see Luffy, but decides to remain silent. Instead, he takes another sip of rum and resigns himself to waiting.

His resolve only lasts a few hours. It’s close to midnight when he stalks silently past his sleeping crewmates and steps into the med-bay, closing the door behind him with a quiet click. He’d been feeling restless, uncomfortable in his hammock and Luffy the only thing on his mind.

He pulls a chair up in front of the bed and sits, watching his captain’s chest rise and fall with deep, steady breaths. He’s even snoring, and Zoro admires his peaceful expression, his parted lips and rosy cheeks framed by long, dark eyelashes. He picks up Luffy’s hand and kisses each one of his fingers reverently, offering a silent, thankful prayer to the gods for Chopper and his unmatched medical skills.

Luffy suddenly stirs, turning his head towards Zoro, who immediately goes still.

“Zoro,” Luffy’s eyes light up at the sight of his first mate, and his sleepy smile is one of the prettiest sights Zoro thinks he’s ever seen.

“Go back to sleep, Luf,” he says softly, his voice heavy with affection. He brazenly kisses the top of Luffy’s hand, and his captain giggles quietly, a sound Zoro could happily listen to for the rest of his days.

“Okay,” Luffy agrees, and then he’s scooting over and lifting the blanket invitingly, looking up at Zoro with those big, brown eyes, and who is he to deny his captain?

“You’re supposed to be getting some rest,” Zoro says even as he slides into the bed, pulling Luffy close and wrapping his arms around him, their faces mere centimeters apart.

“I am,” Luffy replies, warm breath puffing against Zoro’s chin and his eyes twinkling even in the dark. “I sleep better when you’re around.”

He says it so easily, so honestly, and Zoro can’t help himself. He closes the short distance between them and captures Luffy’s lips in a tender kiss.

“I thought I needed rest,” Luffy says breathlessly when Zoro finally pulls back for air. He’s smiling though, and his eyes are filled with mirth. Zoro just hums in reply, and peppers Luffy’s cheeks and nose with feather-light kisses, reveling in his captain’s muffled, giddy laughter and wondering what other noises he could draw from him. A dangerous thought, considering his current position; Luffy flush against him, warm and pliant under his touch. He almost groans, burying his face in his captain’s soft curls and breathing in the sea-salt scent of him.

“Zoro.” The way Luffy whispers his name is almost too much for him to bear. “Thank you for saving me.”

“That was Chopper,” Zoro replies against Luffy’s hair. Luffy pushes him back slightly and looks him square in the face.

“It was you, too,�� he says seriously. “You jumped in for me.”

“Always,” Zoro says, meaning it with every fiber of his being. His fingers trace the smooth curve of Luffy’s cheek, tucking a lock of hair behind his ear and leaning in to kiss the flushed skin there.

The simplicity of his reply has Luffy smiling again, and this time it’s he who kisses Zoro, a little peck at the corner of his lips. The sweet gesture effectively unravels Zoro’s resolve, breaking him down to the point where words are pointless and only actions have meaning.

His hands are gentle only ever for his captain, his fingers lightly caressing the exposed skin of Luffy’s chest and his lips against his neck, kissing a line up to his ear and nibbling at the lobe. Simmering embers in the pit of his stomach burn hotter when Luffy responds to his touch with a contented sigh and he cranes his neck, revealing more skin for Zoro to appreciate, which he does with unrestrained enthusiasm.

“Luffy,” Zoro murmurs his captain’s name reverently, his hands moving to cup Luffy’s cheeks and he kisses him fervently, sucking his bottom lip into his mouth and biting down lightly, tonguing at the shallow puncture marks his teeth leave on the velvety skin there. Luffy makes another small noise that Zoro swallows up and he wraps his arms around Zoro’s neck, returning the kiss, his eyes screwed shut and his nose scrunched adorably.

Zoro can’t get enough. He slows their tempo, his mouth slotting against Luffy’s deliberately, taking his time to taste and smell and touch. His thumbs swipe over Luffy’s flushed skin and he pulls back to gaze at him fondly, feeling rather smug that the dazed expression on his captain’s face was his doing.

“Let’s get you something to eat,” he says, each word punctuated by a quick, affectionate kiss to Luffy’s face, leaning in close to whisper in his ear, licking the shell suggestively. “And continue this later.”

Luffy shivers and nods, perking up at the mention of food and practically bouncing out of the bed with a toothy smile, sparkling eyes crinkling at the corners as he takes Zoro’s hand in his own. He skips cheerfully to the kitchen, humming a little ditty and dragging Zoro along with him. Zoro watches the way his captain’s smile brightens at the sight of the other Straw Hats, who’ve jumped from their beds and come running at the sound of his song, and he thinks he would gladly follow Luffy to the ends of the earth.

#one piece #roronoa zoro #monkey d luffy #zolu #nami #Usopp #vinsmoke sanji #tony tony chopper #guys I live and breathe for them #what a first mate wouldn’t do for his captain #my fic

167 notes · View notes