(no subject)
Dec. 13th, 2005 04:33 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dethoratsTitle: Short-Listed
Rating: G
Pairing: Vaguely Smoker/Zoro
Word Count: 300
Most of the time he never regretted being a hammer. The powers granted by the Devil’s Fruit far outweighed the inconvenience of sinking like a stone in seawater. Sitting in a seastone cage with some of the very pirates he’d followed onto the Grand Line, Smoker was calm as the room began to fill with water. Even if he died at the hand of Crocodile, at least Straw Hat would be joining him in Hell. The last thing he had expected was a rescue. But once again the younger D brother’s incredible luck and the skill of his crew managed to keep them all alive for a while longer.
Being held in the thrall of salt water was a strange sensation. He was rendered immobile, helpless to lift so much as a finger to save himself. Consciousness stayed however, as did the full command of all his other senses. Roronoa’s arm wrapped around his chest, slipped up into his armpits, the man’s sword-roughened hand glancing over his bare skin before it fisted in his jacket. Smoker was aware that he was not a small man, but the swordsman managed to haul him upward towards life and freedom with only a modicum of effort. Impressive. He should have expected nothing less from a man who’d faced one of the Shichibukai and lived.
“Why?” he’d asked, momentarily curious about a pirate who should have only concerned him with plans for capture. The response, a flippant reply of “captain’s orders,” was revealing, as was the understanding laughter when he finally told Straw Hat he was free for the time being. Crossing the desert a short while later once the sandstorm had moved on, Smoker scowled and added Roronoa to the short list of pirates that particularly pissed him off. Tashigi would have competition.
Rating: G
Pairing: Vaguely Smoker/Zoro
Word Count: 300
Most of the time he never regretted being a hammer. The powers granted by the Devil’s Fruit far outweighed the inconvenience of sinking like a stone in seawater. Sitting in a seastone cage with some of the very pirates he’d followed onto the Grand Line, Smoker was calm as the room began to fill with water. Even if he died at the hand of Crocodile, at least Straw Hat would be joining him in Hell. The last thing he had expected was a rescue. But once again the younger D brother’s incredible luck and the skill of his crew managed to keep them all alive for a while longer.
Being held in the thrall of salt water was a strange sensation. He was rendered immobile, helpless to lift so much as a finger to save himself. Consciousness stayed however, as did the full command of all his other senses. Roronoa’s arm wrapped around his chest, slipped up into his armpits, the man’s sword-roughened hand glancing over his bare skin before it fisted in his jacket. Smoker was aware that he was not a small man, but the swordsman managed to haul him upward towards life and freedom with only a modicum of effort. Impressive. He should have expected nothing less from a man who’d faced one of the Shichibukai and lived.
“Why?” he’d asked, momentarily curious about a pirate who should have only concerned him with plans for capture. The response, a flippant reply of “captain’s orders,” was revealing, as was the understanding laughter when he finally told Straw Hat he was free for the time being. Crossing the desert a short while later once the sandstorm had moved on, Smoker scowled and added Roronoa to the short list of pirates that particularly pissed him off. Tashigi would have competition.
