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estrellami-1 · 9 months

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If I Should Stay

Part 1 | . . . | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9

After pizza—and after El wakes up and eats her own pizza—everyone gathers around again to listen to Steve and Robin. “So I think by now we’ve proven we’re from the future,” Steve says. “We’re here, four years in the past, because a lot of bad things happen, and if we can, we’d like to stop those things from happening. The big one, and really the recurring problem, is a guy named Henry Creel who essentially took control of an alternate plane of existence we call the Upside Down.” He motions El over beside him, and she goes gladly, tucking her feet up onto the couch as she leans into his side, trusting him to hold her up. He does, sliding a protective arm around her shoulders as he says, “He’s also One.”

He watches as one by one the lightbulbs come on. “Oh, shit,” Dustin whispers, and Steve doesn’t even call him on it, just nods.

“Beyond Henry, though, there are creatures in the Upside Down that can and will kill you.” He rolls his eyes fondly at the boys. “For some inexplicable reason, you came up the names, so they’re called demogorgons, demodogs, and demobats. Demogorgons are what took Barb and Will, but they both got away. That doesn’t mean they’re safe, though. Like El said earlier, Barb was safe in the moment, but it’s still a very dangerous place. There are vines everywhere that are connected to a hive mind. You step on one, and Henry knows you’re there.”

He continues telling the story, Robin interrupting when there’s a detail he misses. It’s silent when they finish. Finally, El speaks up. “So, it is… my fault?”

“No, El,” Steve says softly. “None of this is your fault. Things out of your control happened that made you who you are. Those same things created all of this.”

El frowns. “So I am bad? Like One? Like the Upside Down?”

“No,” Mike says sharply. “You’re good, El.”

“He’s right,” Steve murmurs. “You made yourself good.” He pokes her arm teasingly, and she smiles, leaning back into him.

Steve looks around, catches Nancy’s eye, and sighs. “Nance? A word?”

“Steve?” Robin asks.

He shakes his head. “I’ll yell if I need you,” he promises, rubbing her head as he passes. She squawks and bats his hand away.

“Asshole,” she mutters, and he laughs as he disappears down the hallway, Nancy in tow.

They end up in a room Steve thinks was meant to be a study. “You have questions.”

“Understatement of the century. There’s just one that’s really bugging me, though.”

“Us?”

“Yeah.”

Steve sighs and leans against the wall. “On Halloween, Tina throws a party. We didn’t know what we do now, about the Upside Down, and you were still looking for her. I was an asshole, self-centered and unhelpful.” He blows out a breath, crosses his arms, and looks away. “You got drunk, called me, and my love for you, bullshit. Left. I tried to talk to you the next day at school about it and you couldn’t say you loved me. I was still hopeful. I’m a romantic at heart, y’know? I thought maybe if I could be everything you needed, if I changed enough, if, if, if…” he shakes his head. “So we stayed together. I tried. You slept with Jonathan Byers, then broke up with me.”

Nancy looks horrified. “Steve-”

He shakes his head. “I made my peace with it. And maybe this makes me an asshole, I dunno, but Nance, I can’t go back. We’re okay, we’re friends, but I can’t pretend I still have feelings for you. I’m sorry, but we both know I was just convenient for you.”

Nancy takes a breath. “So that’s it?”

Steve shrugs helplessly. “I don’t know what you want me to do. I tried and got my heart broken for it. I moved on, found someone I think I can really be happy with, without changing who I am. And for the record? It gets rocky for a second, but I think you and Byers are it, too.” He smirks. “Plus Mike likes him better than me.”

Nancy rolls her eyes. “Oh, well, if Mike likes him better…” they both laugh, and she looks at him. “No more feelings?”

He shakes his head. “We make much better friends.”

Nancy grins lopsidedly. “And Robin?”

Steve snorts. “Purely platonic, I promise. Neither of us want anything else with each other.”

Nancy looks at him then. Studies him. “You’ve been through some shit,” she decides. “But you look happy.”

He smiles. “I am, for the most part. I know who I am.”

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inoreuct · 3 months

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i mean- if youre willing to write the angstier version 🥺🥺

https://www.tumblr.com/inoreuct/738704605780885504/thinking-about-zoro-being-the-crews-main

more than willing 🤭 enjoy!!

everything kind of hurts when nami comes to.

she honestly can’t tell if she’s opened her eyes or not; it’s all pitch black, and her eyelids feel gummy. the lashes of her left eye are crusted together with what’s probably the same thing making her forehead stiff, so that’s most likely blood. lovely.

the back of her skull bumps against something hard and cold with damp as she cranes her neck around, trying to get her bearings, and she can bend her wrists just enough to confirm that those are chains wrapped around them above her head. it's still too dark to see but she can smell salty air, mildew and rust, hear the vague murmur of the ocean; her body feels sore and stiff all over but she can't have been hanging here long. her shoulders haven't started hurting the way she knows they can.

something moves within the shadows ahead, and nami deliberately keeps her breathing even as footsteps get closer to her. the person reaches the wall to her left and pries something away— a plank, she realises, as moonlight starts spilling through the barred window and the face of her visitor is thrown into sharp relief.

the man is pale, slim to the point of being gaunt with a greasy, grimy quality about him; she presses her teeth together as he slinks forward and clasps his hands behind his back and cocks his head.

“cat-burglar nami,” he begins, beady eyes blinking. "tell us your plans."

her eyebrows go up in a flash, lips pinching in bemusement. getting right to business, are we? "we don't have any," she laughs, and chokes when a fist sinks into her gut.

she admits that she hadn’t expected that as she sputters, coughing as her lungs burn. people usually work up to it; a little bit more forceful questioning and a couple of threats against, say, anything and everything she’s ever loved, and then she’d figure they’d start punching. this man, or whoever he represents— they’re desperate.

and he just proves her right, god, men are so predictable. "what do you mean, you don't have any?" he spits, jagged nails digging in as he grabs her chin forcefully.

nami chuckles again, weak huffs that make her chest heave. her shoulders are starting to ache. “we see someone that needs help and we help them. we don't plan anything."

another swing, straight to her solar plexus. "where's your crew?"

"you don’t… interrogate people often, do you?” she wheezes, and holds her breath as his fist draws back again. the pain bites and then blooms across her cheek, blood-hot and thrumming like an infection, and she works her tongue between tooth and soft flesh, the pocket around her lower gums as she bares a grin and turns her head.

"where is your crew."

this time, when nami's laugh flutters from her mouth, blood goes with it. "here." she takes great pleasure at the fear that singes the edges of the man's face before he tries to blank it again. it’s not very effective. "they're here."

"impossible," he sneers. "we're on a deserted island in the middle of nowhere."

it’s false fucking bravado and it fills her with a sick sense of glee as she smirks at him through sweat-sticky lashes. "impossible's what we're best at, if you haven't noticed." she has no doubt that her nakama have already tracked her down. it’s a matter of time before luffy takes the roof off this place or sanji kicks the door down with a flaming leg.

the third possibility, well— this guy better hope it’s not zoro that comes for her.

she watches as the man digs into his pocket, his breathing harsh. “fine.” the brass knuckles he slips over his fingers gleam in the low light, a pretty polished bronze, and nami’s mouth goes dry. “you don’t wanna tell me? fine.”

all she knows for a while after that is pain. hell, she’d never even been beaten this badly under arlong’s thumb, and aside from the occasional swat to the wrist her mother hadn’t hit her either. this, though— it’s slam after slam of metal into her gut with a hand pinning her shoulder to the wall. her entire body shuts down for a moment when the hard edges jab into her liver, and she chokes back a scream when she feels her ribs snap seconds after she hears them break.

the air feels too thick when he finally pulls back, damp with her own breath, her body hot all over and shivery with pain. this isn’t an interrogation— this is someone taking out their frustrations, and it’s confusing because she doesn’t even know one, who this guy is and two, what they did to warrant such a violent retribution because, and she reiterates, she has no idea who the fuck this guy is. if it turns out that he’s just a nobody who got too ballsy she is going to be relieved but so, so mad.

her entire body’s starting to feel like one big bruise. the joints of her arms burn as she tries to lift herself up, to take some weight off her shoulders, but a cold chill settles in the pit of her stomach when she sees the glint of metal. something else, as if the knuckles weren’t enough— silver this time, sharp and liquid, and she is gonna throw luffy in the godsdamned ocean for taking his own sweet fucking time because where the hell are they.

her new personal annoyance breathes a huff of a laugh as he slowly drags the knife down the front of her blouse (and thank god she’d decided to wear one today), grazing over the shiny buttons until there's a soft snck and the dull sound of the very last one clattering to the floor. "still not talking?”

…okay, that's it. time to get out of here. "fuck you," she says loudly, turning her face towards the window so her voice carries even as she keeps her eyes on the leering bastard in front of her. hello? she wants to yell, the voice in her head steeped in annoyance and fringed in just the tiniest bit of anxiety. i needed backup in here ten minutes ago? ring ring? anyone there?

she can see the looks on her crewmates’ faces. luffy would have that big sheepish grin on, one hand pressed to the top of his hat on his head as she reams him out for their tardiness before he blames it on zoro, the swordsman looking off to the side with a hand on his hilts, in a stubborn sulk.

the knife digs into her cheekbone, grimy fingers squishing her face, and nami grins as she chokes out the first name that comes to mind, under her breath and half-mouthed. "zoro."

he's here, she's sure. her crew is already here and he’ll hear her, he always does. she can feel it in her bones, in the blood that's dripping from her chin, because zoro's never let any of them down. he’s one of the first people who had understood the weight of guilt and unwanted responsibility crushed onto her shoulders, even through her betrayal, and he’d fought for her freedom without hesitation. he won't let anything happen to her. luffy wouldn't, sanji wouldn't, usopp wouldn't— they're gonna get her out of here and then she’s gonna see these bastards burned to the fucking ground.

nami’s a pretty thing, she knows. all short skirts and slender hands and freckled skin but she packs a punch, and she can take one too. she’s held out this long and she can do longer if need be.

she isn’t afraid to ask for help anymore, either— not since then, that faraway time when she’d pushed metal through the only physical evidence of her ties to the man who she’d nursed so much hatred for, hatred that she’d turned into strength.

the man pushes her face away and the tip of the knife nicks across her skin, a shallow slice down to the right side of her upper lip and then the knife is moving, a bright flash of silver, and her voice breaks when it stabs right into her shoulder.

it fucking burns. the tip wedges between the joint, slowly snapping cartilage as the man twists it with a cackle, and she seethes through her teeth. luffy had taught her that strength was asking for help. that admitting that you need someone to save you, if only in that moment, is the bravest thing anyone could do. zoro had taught her to wield it like a weapon, to withstand the strongest of the storms of her own creation—

and she grins, now, as the blade cuts through her flesh and blood drips into her mouth, eyes wild. “zoro!”

the knife drives deeper into her shoulder, white-hot. "cry all you want. they won't get here in time."

that pain is a reminder that she is alive.

her core tenses as she kicks off the wall and drives her boot into the man's gut, heel slamming into his spleen— it winds him enough that he doubles over gasping and nami smiles painfully wide, a wild, vindictive thing. "fuck. you."

“you’re gonna regret that, bitch,” he hisses, and he’s shaking, trembling as he drags himself upright and nami knows that by the gods, he’s only human and she’ll kick him again. she’ll kick him as many times as it takes. sanji would be so proud.

she huffs a laugh, mean and low and raw as she presses her cheek against her bicep and lets her head tip down. she’ll rest, just for a little while before she gets back to fighting and clawing like a bat out of hell. something flickers at the edges of her vision, warm orange bleeding into the peripheral even through her lowered lashes and a soft, whispering crackle that carries on the breeze, smelling of ash— fire. a resounding boom shakes the walls and the man’s head snaps to the window, to say something or maybe to yell—

nami doesn’t get the chance to find out before a blade cleaves him clean in two.

the vertical halves of his body stay frozen for a split second before they slide apart and crumple into a mess of pink and ivory, slick red on the rough-hewn floor. wado gleams wickedly in the moonlight as zoro flicks the gore off her blade, shining silver streaked with the same blood that drips from the swordsman’s face.

“witch,” he grits out, eyes blazing beneath his bandana as he pushes a seething breath through his teeth, and there’s clear worry in the way he uses the side of his hand to push her sweaty bangs off her face and tilt her head up. it reminds her of her mother checking her forehead for fever, and she almost laughs. “you good?”

nami’s eyes burn as she stares at him tiredly. “no. i’m not fucking good,” she deadpans. “get me down.”

sparks shower down above her head as zoro cuts through the chain stringing her up, and her stomach swoops when she drops before an arm catches her around the waist. she cries out as it hits her ribs directly and zoro swears, his sword clattering— and then nami's world tilts as she's leaned carefully against the wall and zoro's face swims into view.

"hands out."

"what took so long?" she snaps weakly, trying to catch her breath. her hair bunches against the wet, grimy stone, and now that there's nothing to worry about she almost gags.

"they weren't completely stupid. took a while to find you," zoro grits, voice tight, before his face softens. "now put your hands out."

it's a struggle to lift them but she manages, albeit with her arms lopsided. the iron shackles around her wrists and rusted and heavy, tight enough that the skin of her wrists is itching, and her arms ache something fierce as zoro slices through the short chain connecting them and then eases his blade through the scarce gap between metal and skin to pop them open one by one.

she hears a cannon boom again. franky, probably— the walls shake and all of a sudden she’s aware of the raw relief coursing through her system, so much that it hurts, like blood rushing back to a limb. she’s lightheaded with it. or perhaps that’s… something else, she ponders faintly, as a knee buckles underneath her and zoro hauls her up before she can fall.

"just hang on, witch, i've got you,” she hears him murmur, squinting at him in the orange light as she’s lifted horizontal, an arm below her back and one beneath her knees.

her own arm flops uselessly, blood soaking her sleeve and collecting in the crease of her elbow. nami reaches up to find purchase and digs her manicured nails into the swordsman’s trapezium. "zoro."

a pause in movement as he looks down. "hm?"

she pulls herself up enough (or pulls him down enough, she can’t tell) to look him in the eye and says, low and dangerous, "i can't do it myself right now, so— give them hell, but don’t kill them. make an example of them. make them a warning.” the last word is spoken quiet enough that she can barely hear it herself, and zoro’s eyes are deadly serious. “death’s a privilege i don’t want them having just yet."

she can tell that the idea doesn't sit well with him; he bristles like an angry cat and his nostrils flare, but she knows he understands when he jerks a nod at her all the same as they step through the busted door and past piles of bodies, all the way out until they’re graced by the last smears of yolk-orange sun across the sky.

somewhere, luffy laughs.

nami shifts and as far as she can see, her crew is going fucking ham. she watches usopp shoot a man point-blank in the face with something that explodes in a shower of red dust and sends him twitching to the ground. another guy goes flying as jinbei quite literally throws him, and a whole row of goons get slammed into a crumbling wall as her captain swings his arm.

“cook!” zoro roars over her head, and it’s barely a second before sanji’s cutting a path towards them, kicking enemies out of the way left, right and centre before he stops right in front of nami.

his mouth parts in a silent question even as his eyes grow stormy blue with anger, face darkening when his gaze locks with zoro’s, and neither of them need to say anything. sanji just nods, solemn, before zoro carefully hands her off and makes sure she’s settled. wado sings as he pulls her out of her scabbard, and he’s relatively out of sight with a spray of coppery red.

nami swallows, suddenly very aware of her dry throat as her temple thumps down on his shoulder, and she gets the sudden ridiculous urge to apologise for her half-dried blood dirtying his suit.

“none of that,” he hushes, and fuck, she must be more out of it than she realised if she’s speaking out loud. sanji chuckles tightly. “you're alright, my dear. we've got you now."

she cranes her neck slightly to check her immediate field of vision, counting off mentally. "where’s everyone else?"

"taking care of things." an elegant hand appears and curls around her broken ribs, making sure they don't jostle as robin walks calmly into view. her beautiful face is serene. “they hurt one of ours. nobody except our crew is walking out of this place.”

nami blinks at her, limbs leaden, eyes narrowing with an irritated sigh as she cradles her injured shoulder against her body. “somebody better get my fucking clima-tact.”

she passes out.

the world is a soft blur when nami wakes, like she’s seeing things through dandelion fluff. or pain meds. probably pain meds. she knows she’s in chopper’s infirmary; the smell of antiseptic is painfully sterile, and she is glad of it. she vaguely remembers being carried in, sanji’s voice pitched low, someone sponging the blood from her skin as chopper’s hooves carefully prodded her torso.

the mattress dimples under her fingers and she jerks a little at the sound of slippers pattering towards her, cutting off abruptly with a yelp and a few hissed words. luffy’s hat is lopsided, gleaming in the afternoon sun.

she slips back into unconsciousness with a smile on her face.

the next time she comes too, she’s still in the infirmary. she doesn’t open her eyes just yet— soft breathing fills her ears, slightly raspy, a soothing rumble like the earth itself is shifting. she knows it’s zoro. it couldn’t be anyone else.

sure enough, the swordsman is asleep next to her pallet, squished into a chair that’s slightly too small with his arms crossed and his chin dipped to his chest.

nami coughs loudly, immediately regretting it as her chest and shoulder flares with pain, and then deciding that it’s worth it when zoro nearly tumbles out of his seat.

they stare at each other for a while. nami raises an eyebrow after three seconds of zoro being wide-eyed and open-mouthed. “how long was i out?”

the swordsman recovers himself with a swallow and a hand scrubbed through his hair. “not long. it’s the second morning after.”

she hums. “who were they?”

“a bunch of idiots who got lucky. we just jumped in and beat the shit outta them like usual.”

a muscle twitches in her forehead because god, they really were just idiots with balls too big for their pants. “and where are they?”

“marooned on that island, s’far as anyone’s concerned. luffy and franky turned their ship to splinters.” the grin that tugs at the corner of his mouth is a feral, satisfied thing. “ain’t no way they’re going anywhere anyway, even if they still had a boat. probably can’t even get their sorry asses off the sand. we didn’t kill them—” he says before she can get a word in edgewise, and nami closes her mouth, “but they’re closer to death than life, that’s for damn sure.”

a second’s pause, before she deems the answer satisfactory. “the others?”

“resting. or on watch.”

and it sounds to her for once like there’s nobody rootling around in the kitchens. “awfully quiet, no?”

zoro huffs a laugh, knowing what she means immediately. “the cook told luff to keep it down.”

both her brows go up at that. their captain is not one usually inclined to keep it down. “surprised he listened.”

“he does what he wants.” zoro shrugs, like it’s the simplest thing in the world. “and he wants you to get better, so he listened.”

maybe it really is the simplest thing in the world. luffy is simultaneously layers upon layers and one thin sheet. he is so much and yet still so simple in the way that he cares. nami takes stock for the first time, vision widening to encompass the rest of the room. it’s early morning, early enough that the top of the sky is still dyed dark, pale blue and pink streaking the rest. her body aches all over, concentrated in her shoulder and ribs, bandages looped in layers beneath the soft, loose shirt that she’s pretty sure is sanji’s. there are dark circles smudged under zoro’s eyes and his hair is loose. her clima-tact sits on the table nearby, as does—

luffy’s hat glows in the early dawn, individual strands lighting up like spun gold. it’s old and battered and worn thin. it makes nami’s heart feel warm.

“sorry."

she blinks, turning back to zoro to find him with his head bowed, hands clenched tightly in his lap. “…hey."

"i'm sorry," he says again, taking a deep breath that shifts his massive shoulders as he sits back. "we should've gotten there sooner. they shouldn't have been able to get to you at all—"

"hey." nami pushes a palm against the mattress to sit up before the pain makes her decide against it, grimacing. "don't be stupid. you got there before anything happened."

zoro's eyes are blazing when he finally looks up. "that's bullshit. the fact that they got you at all is—” he bites off his words, chest rising with a measured inhale that she suspects doesn’t help much. “and something happened, witch. a lot happened. you're bruised half to hell. they broke your ribs. your shoulder—"

"will be fine," she stresses, rolling onto her uninjured side to face him.

“your face.”

“superficial.” nami reaches up to press her fingers over the bandage on her cheek, feeling the silhouette of stitches beneath. unbothered by the way zoro’s seething. “our doctor’s one of the best. at worse, now luffy and i match.”

“you’re missing the point,” zoro grits, fists and teeth clenched so hard they both creak. “this wasn’t supposed to happen. nothing like this. not with me around.”

she knows her physical injuries aren’t all he’s talking about. knows he’d noticed the missing button on her shirt. knows that it’s guilt that’s eating him up inside, staining his undereyes the same purple as her bruises and putting that haunted look on his face.

nami sighs. zoro's a dumbass on a good day and he's got the emotional awareness of a brick wall, but of course he has to get this of all things.

she says it sarcastically in her head, but the thought makes her want to curl up and cry. the way he’s staring at her, wide-eyed and waiting for her judgement, makes something in her ache so fondly that she sniffs before she looks down.

he looks his age, for once. not a child anymore but also barely a man. too young to have so much weight on his shoulders, but aren’t they all? the words would be easy to say. it’s not your fault. don’t beat yourself up over it.

but mercy towards himself a language in which zoro is still not yet fluent, so for now she’ll defer to a more familiar tongue. "i'm fine. promise,” she mutters, looking down like she doesn’t mean it with everything she has. like she wouldn’t say anything to make him feel just a little better. “but you keep up with this attitude and i'll add to you debt."

he sputters, weak but still incredulous. "i just saved you, you witch."

"so?" she swallows her heart as she arches a brow. "you didn't do it fast enough. what's your point?"

"you're a tyrant," he breathes, rolling his eyes and huffing a loud breath as he looks away.

nami smirks. "a tyrant who budgets for your liquor with our beri, might i remind you. now go get your cook to make me a snack."

"he's not my cook!" zoro hisses, half in shock, getting up on reflex like a startled animal to yank the door open and storm out.

nami can’t help it— she laughs as tears spill hot down her cheeks, and she swipes them away so her bandage stays dry. it feels so good to be able to banter like this again. she hears her crew now, their voices rising and falling as zoro breaks the news, the cheers going up against the still morning air; it warms her through like fire on a brisk winter’s day. the gauze wound around her torso restricts her movement, but nami eases herself back down into the pillows with a sigh and let the noise of her nakama wash over her.

it soothes the ache. they always do.

(zoro returns within ten minutes with a slice of tangerine cheesecake and a mug of rich, creamy chocolate. sanji's drawn a spiky, frowning mossball on the top with milk foam, and she giggles when she looks up and zoro's making the exact same expression.)

(later, before the sun is even properly up in the sky, her crew curls around her in the tiny room she’s temporarily calling her own. they sit on every available surface and take up every available space, in the infirmary, in her heart; luffy’s cross-legged at the foot of the bed, beaming at her with a mouth full of chocolate biscuit. robin’s hands lift her hair off the nape of her neck. franky’s knitting some sort of sweater with yarn that’s coincidentally her favourite colour, and jinbei’s voice is deep and calming as he chats quietly with brook.

zoro stands, a silent sentinel by the door, arms crossed and brow lowered, and when she catches his eye his face softens.

“you gonna stand there all day?” she asks, brow arching in expectation, and she scoots over to make space for him to squeeze in next to sanji by her hip. their lack of squabbling does not escape her notice, but she’s not about to look a gift horse in the mouth— she’ll enjoy her peace and save it for another day.

and there will be another day. she’s planning on sailing with this crew for a long, long time.)

(even later, after everybody else has filed out of the room, zoro remains by her hip. his face is shadowed and unreadable.

“they should have died for what they did to you,” he says, low and soft. not tightly, no, not when she’d already told him it wasn’t what she wanted— not a protest. just a statement.

“you already bisected the one who did it first-hand,” she hums with her thumb shoved halfway through the middle of a tangerine, oil misting into the air, pith gathered beneath her nails as she pries it apart. “isn’t that enough?”

zoro doesn’t look up as he shakes his head, hands clasped in his lap, and nami feels something in her chest soften because zoro, for every good thing he is, has never been one to address how much he cares, and this— this allowance, however indirect, for her— it means a lot. it means everything.

his head snaps up with a frown as the piece of rind she throws smacks him square between the brows, staring down at the slice of fruit she offers him next like it’s something alien.

he shoves it in his mouth anyway, and she bites back a laugh.

they don’t say much more. they don’t need to.)

#well. this wasn’t as zoro-centric as it was supposed to be #more a zoro nami dynamic study. with a sprinkle of romance dawn trio #whatever it’s still delicious DINNER IS SERVED *rings bell to summon yall*#one piece #cat burglar nami #one piece nami #roronoa zoro #one piece zoro #strawhat pirates #romance dawn trio #zosan #because there’s always zosan…#also i find it hilarious how nami’s just kind of pissed off. woman’s barely stressed bcs she knows she’ll be fine she’s just MAD #ino writes

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