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Part 2 of Drabble Spam from ZoSopp Comm for Usopp's Birthday
Title: Out of the Past
Rating: G
Pairing: Zoro + Usopp
Word Count: 343
Zoro had gone out the back door of the bar once the brawl inside began to wind down and stopped being entertaining. The dim alleyway between the dive and an all-night greasy spoon was populated by rats, two feral cats, several groaning victims of the fight, and at least one semi-permanent bum resident. Garbage, vomit, and a strong smell of stale urine clung to the place and Zoro was anxious to leave. But four yards from the relatively fresher air of the street, he pulled up short and blinked.
He’d had a lot to drink but he was pretty sure he wasn’t actually drunk so he shoved a hand into the mass of mildewed, yellowing, bug-eaten Wanted posters, searching for that glimpse he’d had when a light breeze had dared risk the rank corridor. And sure enough, near the bottom of the heap, a face he’d pictured in his mind –but lacking quite the prominent olfactory organ he’d been expecting – met his gaze. The name on the headband was right, as was the crew, and Zoro snatched it off the wall without a second thought.
Two months later, he was far more nervous as he handed Usopp a flat package wrapped in plain red and white stripes. Inside, carefully cleaned and treated by a manuscript maker he’d had the good fortune to rescue from thugs and also ensconced in a frame he’d carved himself out of some old driftwood, was a face with the same broad grin and curls as the birthday boy. Usopp stared for a while, silent in a way he never was, and then, while Zoro waited, primed to hide his flinch and gruffly shrug away whatever the sniper chose to say, he gently tucked it into his bag. The hints of moisture in the corners of his eyes were thanks enough when he threw his arms around the swordsman in a bear hug worthy of Franky or Chopper in his heavy-point form.
You’re welcome.” Zoro’s murmur was quietly dropped into Usopp’s ear as he gladly returned the hug.
Title: Life is the Ultimate Prankster
Rating: G
Pairing: Zoro + Usopp
Word Count: 562
The purplish splotch that appeared on the inside of Usopp’s arm gave him a great idea for his annual birthday present to himself. Perpetuating a prank of epic proportions was a way to keep his hand in and his birthday meant people tended to grant him a little leeway even if they were really pissed off. Despite his many bouts of ‘Icantgoonthatislanditis’ and ‘dangerisdeadlyandlivingisgood’ disease, Usopp was not a hypochondriac. He was a pretty healthy young man and capable of withstanding quite the beating and he ate enough chilies to kill any germs that tried to penetrate his immune system. Besides, accidents with chemistry and his random inventions meant he always had odd bumps and bruises and even strange stains and burns that he never could figure out the origin of. The purple-y splotch he regarded as just another instance of his usual collection of less than perfect skin.
A permanent marker, applications of ice water to his hands, close proximity to a flame on the part of his forehead, and his most convincing pathetic groan were all he needed to complete his prank. There was nothing wrong with starting a day early if the payoff came on the right day and he played his chosen part to the hilt. Chopper rushed around between his bedside and his medical books while Luffy took time out to try his own hand at story-telling. Robin loaned him a novel and Sanji kept him well-plied with chicken soup and tea and Zoro pretty much hovered about as unobtrusively as the swordsman knew how.
All was going well, with the crew coming at his beck and call, and Usopp went to bed with the gleeful knowledge of having more of the same until his ‘miraculous’ recovery around mid-afternoon that would allow him to fully enjoy all the activities, food, and presents that would be coming to him. Unfortunately the world decided to one-up the great prankster and pulled one of its own. When Usopp managed to crack open his eyes, blinking painfully in the light, it was already after lunch time. He was feverish and thirsty but the few sips of water he swallowed made his stomach churn and he groaned pitifully. There were a lot more purple-colored splotches than he remembered drawing too, and some of them itched.
Chopper came in, summoned by Zoro who had been quietly keeping watch, and pronounced his sentence. Murex Pox was a fairly contagious and pretty unpleasant disease but it wasn’t fatal and probably would run its course within the week. In the meantime, Chopper reluctantly ceded Usopp to Zoro’s care because the swordsman was the only one of the crew to have already had it and couldn’t get it again. Zoro was a brisk, somewhat rough nursemaid but Usopp was mostly too out of it to care. But he was awake enough to crack a pained smile around dinner time when Zoro came bearing soup and a slice of cake. His singing voice was a little flat but he put effort into it and he promised to save the sniper a piece for when he felt well enough to eat it. And then, because it was about all he could do, he crawled in next to Usopp, wrapped an arm around him to help ward off the chills he knew would come, and joined him in falling asleep.
Title: Memento
Rating: G
Pairing: Zoro/Usopp
Word Count: 431
Zoro didn’t really consider himself very artistic. If he ever created, it was through pain and death. Flesh was his canvas and blood his paint and while his sword exercises had a certain grace and beauty, he himself preferred to see their utility rather than their grace. However, one man cannot train all the time, no matter how much Zoro tried. The body needs some rest and occasionally sleep would not come. In the stretch of time he spent alone in East Blue, he’d picked up a hobby from an old shepherd he’d once stayed with for two weeks when a blizzard had kept him in place and even Zoro had realized his lack of an internal compass could get him killed in the whiteout.
His pocketknife was as well maintained as his swords, if far less used, and he had some modicum of skill with it. In the weeks leading up to Usopp’s birthday, Zoro had – for perhaps the first time in his life – really stopped to think about what to get someone for a present. He didn’t really care about birthdays himself and usually a bottle of booze (or in Luffy’s case, a side of beef) seemed to be more than adequate. But the sniper had come to mean something else besides nakama and that had twisted his brain as much as it had his heart and so he’d actually spent time contemplating what to do. It was only after a lucky stop on a somewhat primitive island that he figured it out.
Usopp had admired the small trinkets that decorated the weapons – mostly bows and arrows along with a few spears – of the tribespeople. They represented important events in a warrior’s history but they were also quite decorative. Kabuto, Sogeking/Usopp’s new weapon, was just the right size to warrant a few trophies hanging off of it and Zoro had his present idea. It was somewhat difficult to hide his work, but enough late nights and early mornings in the privacy of the crow’s nest managed to give him just the right amount of time. On April 1, he wrapped them in a new bandanna and gruffly tossed them at the sniper.
Three little totems were placed on Kabuto later that day. One was of the Going Merry’s figurehead, another of a beloved lost sword that they had briefly shared, and the third of a certain mask. A fourth would join them in the coming days, a new design Usopp had requested, of an apple tree like the one beneath which they had finally confessed.
Title: Too Young To Die
Rating: PG13
Pairing: Zoro/Usopp
Word Count: 522
The handsome chieftain’s son tugged futilely at his bonds but his wrists were lashed tightly together and secured quite firmly to the iron ring embedded in the cliff above him. He could hear the approach of the ravening monster, the heavy tread of claws scraping over stone filling his heart with fear. To be a sacrifice for his people was a noble thing but it was an honor that the young man suddenly did not want. He wanted to live, to fight back, to resist, but there was no hope for him.
As he watched the corner, sweat beaded on his forehead and fearful anticipation had his stomach tied in knots. The air on his bare skin was cold and not for the first time he wondered why all of the beast’s victims had to be left in nothing but a loincloth. Wasn’t a modicum of comfort the least he deserved during the few remaining minutes of his life? But self-pity could not hold his attention for long and he soon went back to high alert. At the first glimpse of alien green hair, he couldn’t keep the low moan of dread from escaping. He could see as his noise made the monster react, the head jerking up until he was looking into leaf-green eyes.
It was a reflex, self-preservation kicking in, that sent his leg up and his foot flying towards the monster’s face. If he could just get his heel into the thing’s nose, maybe he could smash it, send the bone fragments back in to the brain…but the monster was too quick and it laughed, a low rough sound that sent a shiver of dread up his spine, as it easily caught him by the ankle. A deep red tongue snaked out, darted between his toes, before mocking kisses were traced over the fine bones of his foot. Sharp canines scraped over his skin, threatened violence before closing down with teasing gentleness.
Bad enough that he had to die, but now the monster was taunting him, tasting him! The chieftain’s son let fly a string of invective, each curse more colorful than the last, but the monster only chuckled and continued to taste him, mouth moving with excruciating slowness up the inside of his captive leg. It was only when the beast’s nose nudged against his loincloth, having left a particularly fine pattern of bruises on the inside of his thigh, that the fear returned in full force. For the monster released his leg and straightened to its full height and it was then that the young sacrifice realized that the beast was assuredly male and most definitely interested in indulging other appetites before it ate him…
…Usopp couldn’t help but grin at the pleased smile still on Zoro’s face as the swordsman gently rubbed his wrists. That had been a lot of fun – the sniper was glad he’d finally found the nerve to ask for this as his present - and the older pirate had really gotten into his role. They would have to do this again but next time, Usopp decided, HE would be the monster.
Rating: G
Pairing: Zoro + Usopp
Word Count: 343
Zoro had gone out the back door of the bar once the brawl inside began to wind down and stopped being entertaining. The dim alleyway between the dive and an all-night greasy spoon was populated by rats, two feral cats, several groaning victims of the fight, and at least one semi-permanent bum resident. Garbage, vomit, and a strong smell of stale urine clung to the place and Zoro was anxious to leave. But four yards from the relatively fresher air of the street, he pulled up short and blinked.
He’d had a lot to drink but he was pretty sure he wasn’t actually drunk so he shoved a hand into the mass of mildewed, yellowing, bug-eaten Wanted posters, searching for that glimpse he’d had when a light breeze had dared risk the rank corridor. And sure enough, near the bottom of the heap, a face he’d pictured in his mind –but lacking quite the prominent olfactory organ he’d been expecting – met his gaze. The name on the headband was right, as was the crew, and Zoro snatched it off the wall without a second thought.
Two months later, he was far more nervous as he handed Usopp a flat package wrapped in plain red and white stripes. Inside, carefully cleaned and treated by a manuscript maker he’d had the good fortune to rescue from thugs and also ensconced in a frame he’d carved himself out of some old driftwood, was a face with the same broad grin and curls as the birthday boy. Usopp stared for a while, silent in a way he never was, and then, while Zoro waited, primed to hide his flinch and gruffly shrug away whatever the sniper chose to say, he gently tucked it into his bag. The hints of moisture in the corners of his eyes were thanks enough when he threw his arms around the swordsman in a bear hug worthy of Franky or Chopper in his heavy-point form.
You’re welcome.” Zoro’s murmur was quietly dropped into Usopp’s ear as he gladly returned the hug.
Title: Life is the Ultimate Prankster
Rating: G
Pairing: Zoro + Usopp
Word Count: 562
The purplish splotch that appeared on the inside of Usopp’s arm gave him a great idea for his annual birthday present to himself. Perpetuating a prank of epic proportions was a way to keep his hand in and his birthday meant people tended to grant him a little leeway even if they were really pissed off. Despite his many bouts of ‘Icantgoonthatislanditis’ and ‘dangerisdeadlyandlivingisgood’ disease, Usopp was not a hypochondriac. He was a pretty healthy young man and capable of withstanding quite the beating and he ate enough chilies to kill any germs that tried to penetrate his immune system. Besides, accidents with chemistry and his random inventions meant he always had odd bumps and bruises and even strange stains and burns that he never could figure out the origin of. The purple-y splotch he regarded as just another instance of his usual collection of less than perfect skin.
A permanent marker, applications of ice water to his hands, close proximity to a flame on the part of his forehead, and his most convincing pathetic groan were all he needed to complete his prank. There was nothing wrong with starting a day early if the payoff came on the right day and he played his chosen part to the hilt. Chopper rushed around between his bedside and his medical books while Luffy took time out to try his own hand at story-telling. Robin loaned him a novel and Sanji kept him well-plied with chicken soup and tea and Zoro pretty much hovered about as unobtrusively as the swordsman knew how.
All was going well, with the crew coming at his beck and call, and Usopp went to bed with the gleeful knowledge of having more of the same until his ‘miraculous’ recovery around mid-afternoon that would allow him to fully enjoy all the activities, food, and presents that would be coming to him. Unfortunately the world decided to one-up the great prankster and pulled one of its own. When Usopp managed to crack open his eyes, blinking painfully in the light, it was already after lunch time. He was feverish and thirsty but the few sips of water he swallowed made his stomach churn and he groaned pitifully. There were a lot more purple-colored splotches than he remembered drawing too, and some of them itched.
Chopper came in, summoned by Zoro who had been quietly keeping watch, and pronounced his sentence. Murex Pox was a fairly contagious and pretty unpleasant disease but it wasn’t fatal and probably would run its course within the week. In the meantime, Chopper reluctantly ceded Usopp to Zoro’s care because the swordsman was the only one of the crew to have already had it and couldn’t get it again. Zoro was a brisk, somewhat rough nursemaid but Usopp was mostly too out of it to care. But he was awake enough to crack a pained smile around dinner time when Zoro came bearing soup and a slice of cake. His singing voice was a little flat but he put effort into it and he promised to save the sniper a piece for when he felt well enough to eat it. And then, because it was about all he could do, he crawled in next to Usopp, wrapped an arm around him to help ward off the chills he knew would come, and joined him in falling asleep.
Title: Memento
Rating: G
Pairing: Zoro/Usopp
Word Count: 431
Zoro didn’t really consider himself very artistic. If he ever created, it was through pain and death. Flesh was his canvas and blood his paint and while his sword exercises had a certain grace and beauty, he himself preferred to see their utility rather than their grace. However, one man cannot train all the time, no matter how much Zoro tried. The body needs some rest and occasionally sleep would not come. In the stretch of time he spent alone in East Blue, he’d picked up a hobby from an old shepherd he’d once stayed with for two weeks when a blizzard had kept him in place and even Zoro had realized his lack of an internal compass could get him killed in the whiteout.
His pocketknife was as well maintained as his swords, if far less used, and he had some modicum of skill with it. In the weeks leading up to Usopp’s birthday, Zoro had – for perhaps the first time in his life – really stopped to think about what to get someone for a present. He didn’t really care about birthdays himself and usually a bottle of booze (or in Luffy’s case, a side of beef) seemed to be more than adequate. But the sniper had come to mean something else besides nakama and that had twisted his brain as much as it had his heart and so he’d actually spent time contemplating what to do. It was only after a lucky stop on a somewhat primitive island that he figured it out.
Usopp had admired the small trinkets that decorated the weapons – mostly bows and arrows along with a few spears – of the tribespeople. They represented important events in a warrior’s history but they were also quite decorative. Kabuto, Sogeking/Usopp’s new weapon, was just the right size to warrant a few trophies hanging off of it and Zoro had his present idea. It was somewhat difficult to hide his work, but enough late nights and early mornings in the privacy of the crow’s nest managed to give him just the right amount of time. On April 1, he wrapped them in a new bandanna and gruffly tossed them at the sniper.
Three little totems were placed on Kabuto later that day. One was of the Going Merry’s figurehead, another of a beloved lost sword that they had briefly shared, and the third of a certain mask. A fourth would join them in the coming days, a new design Usopp had requested, of an apple tree like the one beneath which they had finally confessed.
Title: Too Young To Die
Rating: PG13
Pairing: Zoro/Usopp
Word Count: 522
The handsome chieftain’s son tugged futilely at his bonds but his wrists were lashed tightly together and secured quite firmly to the iron ring embedded in the cliff above him. He could hear the approach of the ravening monster, the heavy tread of claws scraping over stone filling his heart with fear. To be a sacrifice for his people was a noble thing but it was an honor that the young man suddenly did not want. He wanted to live, to fight back, to resist, but there was no hope for him.
As he watched the corner, sweat beaded on his forehead and fearful anticipation had his stomach tied in knots. The air on his bare skin was cold and not for the first time he wondered why all of the beast’s victims had to be left in nothing but a loincloth. Wasn’t a modicum of comfort the least he deserved during the few remaining minutes of his life? But self-pity could not hold his attention for long and he soon went back to high alert. At the first glimpse of alien green hair, he couldn’t keep the low moan of dread from escaping. He could see as his noise made the monster react, the head jerking up until he was looking into leaf-green eyes.
It was a reflex, self-preservation kicking in, that sent his leg up and his foot flying towards the monster’s face. If he could just get his heel into the thing’s nose, maybe he could smash it, send the bone fragments back in to the brain…but the monster was too quick and it laughed, a low rough sound that sent a shiver of dread up his spine, as it easily caught him by the ankle. A deep red tongue snaked out, darted between his toes, before mocking kisses were traced over the fine bones of his foot. Sharp canines scraped over his skin, threatened violence before closing down with teasing gentleness.
Bad enough that he had to die, but now the monster was taunting him, tasting him! The chieftain’s son let fly a string of invective, each curse more colorful than the last, but the monster only chuckled and continued to taste him, mouth moving with excruciating slowness up the inside of his captive leg. It was only when the beast’s nose nudged against his loincloth, having left a particularly fine pattern of bruises on the inside of his thigh, that the fear returned in full force. For the monster released his leg and straightened to its full height and it was then that the young sacrifice realized that the beast was assuredly male and most definitely interested in indulging other appetites before it ate him…
…Usopp couldn’t help but grin at the pleased smile still on Zoro’s face as the swordsman gently rubbed his wrists. That had been a lot of fun – the sniper was glad he’d finally found the nerve to ask for this as his present - and the older pirate had really gotten into his role. They would have to do this again but next time, Usopp decided, HE would be the monster.