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Random One Piece Scribbles
I was bored and headachey and wrote a bunch of lame cheese. All but the last of these are for the CIRCLES topic over on OPY100.
Title: Animals
Rating: PG
Pairing: ZoSanZo
Word Count: 297
Nami nudged Robin with one pedicured foot, eyes firmly trained on the spectacle in front of them on the deck. She missed the archaeologist’s mild disgruntlement at being jolted from her book in such a fashion, but soon enough Robin too was caught up in the sight.
“So…I’m thinking Zoro’s a shark and Sanji-kun’s a very hapless seal. He isn’t going to be able to escape this time.”
“Mmm, I was thinking it was the other way around. Swordsman-san is like a wounded gazelle and chef-san is a waiting vulture. He’s just biding his time because he knows he isn’t going to last forever.”
There was a brief flurry of activity as the two boys finally struck at the same time, the scuffle sending them rolling across the deck in the struggle for victory. Finally Zoro’s greater weight managed to pin Sanji to the sun-warmed wood, and he smirked, stealing a kiss full of clashing teeth. After a beat, Sanji somehow managed to tear his mouth away, sending the swordsman flying over his shoulder with a swift knee to Zoro’s chest.
The blonde pounced before Zoro had a chance move, melding his own mouth back over the swordsman’s. A few moments later, it was Sanji’s turn to end up on his back once more, but this time Zoro remained looking up at the cloudless sky as well, both boys panting and trying to catch their breath. Finally the cook stirred, rose, padded off towards the galley with a tossed “Damn marimo, you kiss like shit.” Zoro growled in response and gave chase, the heavy wooden door closing firmly behind them.
Nami exchanged glances with Robin, shook her head in bemusement.
“I take it back. They’re dogs. Both of them.”
“I’m afraid, Miss Navigator, that most men are.”
Title: Marks
Rating: PG
Pairing: Shanks/Ben
Word Count: 260
One well-bitten, calloused finger runs over tanned skin, finding each mark easily despite the darkness. The bullet scars are like moon craters reproduced in miniature, divots taken out of flesh by iron or lead pellets too fast to be avoided. The marks from the cigarettes are different. Those are raised up rather than sunken, burns acquired in the none too pleasant company of a marine interrogation unit. Scars ringing strong wrists were received in the same place because even though words were never spilled out of bitten and bleeding lips, it had been a struggle against bonds both visible and unseen.
More fingers seek out the puffed and darkened skin beneath eyes that flash occasionally as the shadows shift and change, scattering moonbeams in abstract patterns across the floor, the bed, the wall. They should be asleep by now, but this is necessary, this cataloging of cares. Sometimes a reminder of what has been given cannot wait until the light of day. At least the flat, smooth disc of one nipple beneath a gently drifting fingertip is unmarked, but the same is not true of the small pool of navel. That is marred by the last of many weeks’ worth of bandages.
The hand that finally closes around straining, waiting flesh is firm and sure, its owner pleased with the responsive ‘O’ of surprised mouth against a mangled shoulder. Later, when sleep is at last allowed to claim them, it is the gift of arms wrapping around a slender waist that is deemed to be the most important of all.
Title: Not Begging the Question
Rating: G
Pairing: ZoLu
Word Count: 275
It isn’t something Zoro has ever shared with his nakama, nor does he plan on doing so. After all, it is easier if they continue to think of him as nothing but a sword-obsessed muscle-head, never mind the fact that it was his plan that helped them in Alabasta, that he is the only one besides Robin to know so much about who they encounter. Just as well, because sometimes the fact that his master insisted that all of his pupils receive a classical education only serves to give Zoro a headache.
Luffy is a textbook example of a man who lives by petitio principii. This is a poor system of logic under most circumstances, and yet somehow it works perfectly for the straw hat captain. Because he believes that nakama are always amazing, anyone he calls nakama is therefore wonderful. His propositions – like becoming pirate king or freeing an entire country from the closing grasp of a megalomaniac – alone are the only support for the central premise of his very reasons for being – namely that he WILL find the One Piece and that Crocodile would be defeated.
It’s maddening and goes against everything the swordsman has ever been taught. And yet, the farther he travels down the Grand Line in the company of his grinning, illogical, determined captain, the more inclined Zoro is to fall into a similar line of thinking. After all, he already has in some regards. He follows Luffy because he is nakama and captain and more, which is why the words of the promise he made Luffy make at the beginning do not trouble either of them in the slightest.
Title: Afternoon Stroll
Rating: G
Pairing: ZoSopp
Word Count: 100
Note: This one got cross-posted just because I felt like it, not because it's any good
The third time they walk slowly past the old lady brazenly hawking yesterday’s already-stinking catch of fish as that afternoon’s, Usopp smothers a chuckle with the back of his free hand. He shakes his head when Zoro glances sidelong at him and gives the fingers twined with his a gentle squeeze. If the swordsman is too stubborn to admit, or genuinely doesn’t realize, that they’ve been going in circles, the sharpshooter isn’t going to tell him. After all, the longer it takes to find the café and the rest of their crewmates, the longer he gets to hold his hand.
And this was mainly inspired by Brian and his prompts. XD Someone give me a good ZoLu prompt or two please. I want to write them but am feeling idea-bankrupt at the moment.
Title: Bed
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Ben and Shanks
Word Count: 1010
Note: XD Something random and experimental
The first time they ever share a bed and nothing more, Shanks wore a ridiculous purple-striped nightshirt and a pair of orange plaid boxers. Ben, stripped down to nothing more than his own plain black boxers, paused as he lifted up the blanket. “You’ve slept with someone before, right?”
“Of course I have!” And he had too, plenty of times, not even including all the recent nights with his first mate. Then again, each and every time had come on the heels of some rather vigorous activity. Just sleeping with someone was a brand new experience.
“Just checking.” Ben slid in next to him, realized just how small the bed actually was for a man his size as he tried to get comfortable and keep his feet from dangling over the end.
Neither of them actually got much sleep that night. Ben couldn’t find his comfort zone and Shanks was too hot and confined. Somehow it just wasn’t right without the usual post-coital tangle of naked limbs, but neither was brave enough or smart enough to curl up around the other.
~~~~~~~~~
“Augh! Bastard! Get the fuck off!”
Ben elbowed Shanks sharply in the ribs and inched even closer to the edge of the mattress. For some reason the redhead was being unusually clingy, clutching at his arm and insisting on trying to rest a damp head on his shoulder. But with the weather a steamy eighty degrees even though it was after midnight, the first mate wanted no contact – not even fingertips – with the other man. It was just too damn hot for that.
Shanks smothered a laugh and threw a leg over Ben’s, stirring the thin cotton sheet and smearing sweat where their thighs came in contact. The heat was keeping him awake, and there was nothing better than a good game of ‘annoy Ben’ to try and pass the time and make his eyelids heavy.
At the hot, slick touch, Ben tried to kick him off and succeeding only in toppling himself onto the floor. Where it was mercifully a few degrees cooler and not occupied by an obnoxious captain. He decided to stay there and promptly stole the sheet.
~~~~~~~~
There was drool on the corner of his pillow and a long leg sprawled across his side of the bed. Shanks scowled and grumbled under his breath as he crammed himself into the scant space still left on the mattress. Sometimes he really hated the fact that Ben slept like a log and was just about as moveable as one.
~~~~~~~~
Rain pounded steadily down on the roof, the midmorning light gray and weak. Under the covers, Shanks grinned evilly and suddenly turned over in the circle of Ben’s arms. He latched his mouth unerringly over the pulse beating in the first mate’s neck, sucking hard and refusing to be pushed away as Ben squawked in indignation. After much flailing and the work of four feet managing to kick the comforter off the bed and onto the floor, Ben managed to free himself. He pinned Shanks to the mattress with two arms and a glare that was equal parts annoyance, arousal, and amusement.
“No neck, damn it!”
Shanks’ grin was unrepentant, especially because the skin he’d marked was already beginning to purple most splendidly. Ben moved back, shook his fist in warning before he turned around to retrieve the lost comforter. The smack on his ass garnered Shanks enough points for the older man to exact his revenge.
Shouts of “not the thigh, no biting there!” were loud enough that the lone crew member on deck decided it was better to get wet than to stay dry under the overhang of the captain’s roof.
~~~~~~~
Still shaking melting bits of snow out of his hair, Ben studied the peacefully snoring Shanks and smiled. There were times, such as when the Grand Line sent them bursts of summer weather, when spending his nights with a human furnace was a giant pain. But there were also occasions when he was very glad that his captain emitted massive amounts of heat.
There wasn’t much movement from the redhead when Ben first joined him. The heat radiating off Shanks’ back and into his chest and stomach was blissful after the chill of the air up in the crow’s nest, and the first mate luxuriated in it for a while. Finally he was all but thawed, only his still-icy feet needing warmth. It was hard maneuver them in between the comfortable oven of Shanks’ calves, but finally he managed.
He got a sleepy-sounding ‘you a bastar-‘ in response, but Shanks didn’t bother to pull away, and Ben was able to fall asleep shortly thereafter, even his toes no longer feeling like they were frost-bitten.
~~~~~~
“God DAMN it, Shanks!”
“Wha? What is it?”
“You’re laying on my hair again AND snoring in my ear.”
“S’not my fault your hair’s so long. And I was NOT snoring.”
“Were too. And you like it that way.”
“Was not. And maybe you should stop being such a wuss about it.”
“Were too. I’m not a wuss. You pulled it hard enough to wake me up.”
“Was not. And…uh…all I did was roll over! So there.”
“Were too. And you’re resting on it right now, jackass. Every time you move, you pull it.”
“Well so~rry. I’ll get off your precious hair and just sleep over here then. And I was not snoring.”
“Whatever.”
“…”
“…”
*snore*
“Ha! Were too!”
~~~~~~
After a long and rather intense round of bedroom exercise, Shanks lifted his weary head off of Ben’s chest.
“So…flip you for the side without the wet spot?”
~~~~~~
The last time they are on shore, the hotel just happens to have a room with a king-sized bed. They sprawl, both of them with limbs akimbo, and enjoy all the space. The next morning, when they wake up, they’re both curled around each other in the middle of the mattress, having gravitated towards each other’s heat and familiar comfort in the middle of the night.
Title: Animals
Rating: PG
Pairing: ZoSanZo
Word Count: 297
Nami nudged Robin with one pedicured foot, eyes firmly trained on the spectacle in front of them on the deck. She missed the archaeologist’s mild disgruntlement at being jolted from her book in such a fashion, but soon enough Robin too was caught up in the sight.
“So…I’m thinking Zoro’s a shark and Sanji-kun’s a very hapless seal. He isn’t going to be able to escape this time.”
“Mmm, I was thinking it was the other way around. Swordsman-san is like a wounded gazelle and chef-san is a waiting vulture. He’s just biding his time because he knows he isn’t going to last forever.”
There was a brief flurry of activity as the two boys finally struck at the same time, the scuffle sending them rolling across the deck in the struggle for victory. Finally Zoro’s greater weight managed to pin Sanji to the sun-warmed wood, and he smirked, stealing a kiss full of clashing teeth. After a beat, Sanji somehow managed to tear his mouth away, sending the swordsman flying over his shoulder with a swift knee to Zoro’s chest.
The blonde pounced before Zoro had a chance move, melding his own mouth back over the swordsman’s. A few moments later, it was Sanji’s turn to end up on his back once more, but this time Zoro remained looking up at the cloudless sky as well, both boys panting and trying to catch their breath. Finally the cook stirred, rose, padded off towards the galley with a tossed “Damn marimo, you kiss like shit.” Zoro growled in response and gave chase, the heavy wooden door closing firmly behind them.
Nami exchanged glances with Robin, shook her head in bemusement.
“I take it back. They’re dogs. Both of them.”
“I’m afraid, Miss Navigator, that most men are.”
Title: Marks
Rating: PG
Pairing: Shanks/Ben
Word Count: 260
One well-bitten, calloused finger runs over tanned skin, finding each mark easily despite the darkness. The bullet scars are like moon craters reproduced in miniature, divots taken out of flesh by iron or lead pellets too fast to be avoided. The marks from the cigarettes are different. Those are raised up rather than sunken, burns acquired in the none too pleasant company of a marine interrogation unit. Scars ringing strong wrists were received in the same place because even though words were never spilled out of bitten and bleeding lips, it had been a struggle against bonds both visible and unseen.
More fingers seek out the puffed and darkened skin beneath eyes that flash occasionally as the shadows shift and change, scattering moonbeams in abstract patterns across the floor, the bed, the wall. They should be asleep by now, but this is necessary, this cataloging of cares. Sometimes a reminder of what has been given cannot wait until the light of day. At least the flat, smooth disc of one nipple beneath a gently drifting fingertip is unmarked, but the same is not true of the small pool of navel. That is marred by the last of many weeks’ worth of bandages.
The hand that finally closes around straining, waiting flesh is firm and sure, its owner pleased with the responsive ‘O’ of surprised mouth against a mangled shoulder. Later, when sleep is at last allowed to claim them, it is the gift of arms wrapping around a slender waist that is deemed to be the most important of all.
Title: Not Begging the Question
Rating: G
Pairing: ZoLu
Word Count: 275
It isn’t something Zoro has ever shared with his nakama, nor does he plan on doing so. After all, it is easier if they continue to think of him as nothing but a sword-obsessed muscle-head, never mind the fact that it was his plan that helped them in Alabasta, that he is the only one besides Robin to know so much about who they encounter. Just as well, because sometimes the fact that his master insisted that all of his pupils receive a classical education only serves to give Zoro a headache.
Luffy is a textbook example of a man who lives by petitio principii. This is a poor system of logic under most circumstances, and yet somehow it works perfectly for the straw hat captain. Because he believes that nakama are always amazing, anyone he calls nakama is therefore wonderful. His propositions – like becoming pirate king or freeing an entire country from the closing grasp of a megalomaniac – alone are the only support for the central premise of his very reasons for being – namely that he WILL find the One Piece and that Crocodile would be defeated.
It’s maddening and goes against everything the swordsman has ever been taught. And yet, the farther he travels down the Grand Line in the company of his grinning, illogical, determined captain, the more inclined Zoro is to fall into a similar line of thinking. After all, he already has in some regards. He follows Luffy because he is nakama and captain and more, which is why the words of the promise he made Luffy make at the beginning do not trouble either of them in the slightest.
Title: Afternoon Stroll
Rating: G
Pairing: ZoSopp
Word Count: 100
Note: This one got cross-posted just because I felt like it, not because it's any good
The third time they walk slowly past the old lady brazenly hawking yesterday’s already-stinking catch of fish as that afternoon’s, Usopp smothers a chuckle with the back of his free hand. He shakes his head when Zoro glances sidelong at him and gives the fingers twined with his a gentle squeeze. If the swordsman is too stubborn to admit, or genuinely doesn’t realize, that they’ve been going in circles, the sharpshooter isn’t going to tell him. After all, the longer it takes to find the café and the rest of their crewmates, the longer he gets to hold his hand.
And this was mainly inspired by Brian and his prompts. XD Someone give me a good ZoLu prompt or two please. I want to write them but am feeling idea-bankrupt at the moment.
Title: Bed
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Ben and Shanks
Word Count: 1010
Note: XD Something random and experimental
The first time they ever share a bed and nothing more, Shanks wore a ridiculous purple-striped nightshirt and a pair of orange plaid boxers. Ben, stripped down to nothing more than his own plain black boxers, paused as he lifted up the blanket. “You’ve slept with someone before, right?”
“Of course I have!” And he had too, plenty of times, not even including all the recent nights with his first mate. Then again, each and every time had come on the heels of some rather vigorous activity. Just sleeping with someone was a brand new experience.
“Just checking.” Ben slid in next to him, realized just how small the bed actually was for a man his size as he tried to get comfortable and keep his feet from dangling over the end.
Neither of them actually got much sleep that night. Ben couldn’t find his comfort zone and Shanks was too hot and confined. Somehow it just wasn’t right without the usual post-coital tangle of naked limbs, but neither was brave enough or smart enough to curl up around the other.
~~~~~~~~~
“Augh! Bastard! Get the fuck off!”
Ben elbowed Shanks sharply in the ribs and inched even closer to the edge of the mattress. For some reason the redhead was being unusually clingy, clutching at his arm and insisting on trying to rest a damp head on his shoulder. But with the weather a steamy eighty degrees even though it was after midnight, the first mate wanted no contact – not even fingertips – with the other man. It was just too damn hot for that.
Shanks smothered a laugh and threw a leg over Ben’s, stirring the thin cotton sheet and smearing sweat where their thighs came in contact. The heat was keeping him awake, and there was nothing better than a good game of ‘annoy Ben’ to try and pass the time and make his eyelids heavy.
At the hot, slick touch, Ben tried to kick him off and succeeding only in toppling himself onto the floor. Where it was mercifully a few degrees cooler and not occupied by an obnoxious captain. He decided to stay there and promptly stole the sheet.
~~~~~~~~
There was drool on the corner of his pillow and a long leg sprawled across his side of the bed. Shanks scowled and grumbled under his breath as he crammed himself into the scant space still left on the mattress. Sometimes he really hated the fact that Ben slept like a log and was just about as moveable as one.
~~~~~~~~
Rain pounded steadily down on the roof, the midmorning light gray and weak. Under the covers, Shanks grinned evilly and suddenly turned over in the circle of Ben’s arms. He latched his mouth unerringly over the pulse beating in the first mate’s neck, sucking hard and refusing to be pushed away as Ben squawked in indignation. After much flailing and the work of four feet managing to kick the comforter off the bed and onto the floor, Ben managed to free himself. He pinned Shanks to the mattress with two arms and a glare that was equal parts annoyance, arousal, and amusement.
“No neck, damn it!”
Shanks’ grin was unrepentant, especially because the skin he’d marked was already beginning to purple most splendidly. Ben moved back, shook his fist in warning before he turned around to retrieve the lost comforter. The smack on his ass garnered Shanks enough points for the older man to exact his revenge.
Shouts of “not the thigh, no biting there!” were loud enough that the lone crew member on deck decided it was better to get wet than to stay dry under the overhang of the captain’s roof.
~~~~~~~
Still shaking melting bits of snow out of his hair, Ben studied the peacefully snoring Shanks and smiled. There were times, such as when the Grand Line sent them bursts of summer weather, when spending his nights with a human furnace was a giant pain. But there were also occasions when he was very glad that his captain emitted massive amounts of heat.
There wasn’t much movement from the redhead when Ben first joined him. The heat radiating off Shanks’ back and into his chest and stomach was blissful after the chill of the air up in the crow’s nest, and the first mate luxuriated in it for a while. Finally he was all but thawed, only his still-icy feet needing warmth. It was hard maneuver them in between the comfortable oven of Shanks’ calves, but finally he managed.
He got a sleepy-sounding ‘you a bastar-‘ in response, but Shanks didn’t bother to pull away, and Ben was able to fall asleep shortly thereafter, even his toes no longer feeling like they were frost-bitten.
~~~~~~
“God DAMN it, Shanks!”
“Wha? What is it?”
“You’re laying on my hair again AND snoring in my ear.”
“S’not my fault your hair’s so long. And I was NOT snoring.”
“Were too. And you like it that way.”
“Was not. And maybe you should stop being such a wuss about it.”
“Were too. I’m not a wuss. You pulled it hard enough to wake me up.”
“Was not. And…uh…all I did was roll over! So there.”
“Were too. And you’re resting on it right now, jackass. Every time you move, you pull it.”
“Well so~rry. I’ll get off your precious hair and just sleep over here then. And I was not snoring.”
“Whatever.”
“…”
“…”
*snore*
“Ha! Were too!”
~~~~~~
After a long and rather intense round of bedroom exercise, Shanks lifted his weary head off of Ben’s chest.
“So…flip you for the side without the wet spot?”
~~~~~~
The last time they are on shore, the hotel just happens to have a room with a king-sized bed. They sprawl, both of them with limbs akimbo, and enjoy all the space. The next morning, when they wake up, they’re both curled around each other in the middle of the mattress, having gravitated towards each other’s heat and familiar comfort in the middle of the night.