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firefirefruit · 27 days

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Steel in Her Veins, Chapter: Thirty-Five

Read On: AO3 | Table of Contents | Next Chapter

Characters: Fem!Reader x Roronoa Zoro

writer's notes: hi guys! i know, super late post. i've been super busy with things so it's been hard to juggle everything right now! but i'm still here - very much alive and still writing. i hope you enjoy this next chapter :p as always, would love to read your comments on this one!

Chapter Thirty-Five: A Surly Monster

A pair of long, large obsidian nails curve around the ship with an ear-shattering creak. Impatiently, the dragon snarls out, its dark wings tensely billowing outwards like a sparkling parachute, increasingly building its strong momentum to lift off.

Law stumbles out of the boys' quarters—if you can even call it that anymore, what with the Hearts pirates having to bunk beds with the Strawhats in an incredibly undersized room—his bare feet slapping against the wooden deck in alarm.

"What," he seethes, whilst the little nightcap on the top of his head trembles against the dragon's slapping wind, "the fuck have you gotten into now!?"

Zoro turns, eyebrow raised, and when his eyes land on the Surgeon of Death donning a dress robe that billows out dramatically in front of him—and not to mention that ridiculous little hat—he instantly shouts out in laughter.

Law's piercing eyes slink onto the swordsman. "You got something to say, asshole?"

Zoro keeps barking out like an animal out of control, which makes Raya snap her head around and gape at him as if she's never met this man before. Zoro shakes his head, a tear glistening in his eye. "Nice outfit, princess."

Law's face burns, his jaw tensing into a boulder of stone. "I'm going to kill you, you piece of—"

In a startling and teetering tilt to the ship, the dragon bellows out thunderously, its snout producing smoke that threatens to spill into fire. It retracts its claws—only one remaining hooked on the side of the Sunny—as its wet eyes tilt downwards to the two men who begin flailing off the ship.

Silence them, or I shall do it myself, the dragon grumbles hotly.

Raya shivers as she hears the voice in her skull again – deep, shattering and quite…. unsurprisingly, ill-tempered. She tilts her head back up at the heavy-shouldered force, and without even thinking of her own hot temper, she narrows her eyes back at him.

Quit talking through me, Raya bites out, ignoring the distant cries of the two men hanging onto the ship by a rotten, stray rope. You have no right to invade my mind like this.

The dragon bristles, blasting air from its snout. I am not your enemy, Human.

"Room!" Law forcefully cries out, his inked fingers stretching out, his feet flapping against nothing but air. "Sha—"

But before Law utters that one life-saving word, his hand, with no doing of his own, slams right into his face.

Control their tempers, the dragon repeats, his large eyeballs gleaming at Law, or I'll do more than place his hand in his mouth.

"Ugh, fuck!" Raya hisses, her knuckles turning white over the wooden railing. "Fine! Just hold the ship up properly!"

The dragon huffs out a cloud of smoke in response to Raya's demand, but it complies, adjusting its grip on the ship to stabilise it. Law and Zoro, now dangling precariously from the rope, exchange glares before scrambling back onto the deck.

Raya clenches her fists, still seething with frustration at the intrusion into her mind. "You better keep your end of the bargain," she warns the dragon, her voice laced with venom.

Deal with your companions, and I shall refrain from further interference.

With a heavy sigh, Raya turns her attention to Law and Zoro; standing sheepishly on the deck, they try to regain their composure through manly coughs and throat clearing.

Raya raises a finger at them. "You two," she begins, her voice tight with irritation, "need to get your shit together. I'm in the middle of figuring out what these bloody beasts want with me, and you're both itching for a stupid fight."

Law bristles and takes an accusatory step forward. "But he's the one who started—"

"Boohoo, now go kiss and make up," Raya snaps. She sighs and takes a moment to compose herself, softly leaning her hips against the wooden rail. "Look, these dragons have some sort of business with me. The only reason you guys are here right now with me - and not stranded in Gods knows where - is because— Oh, for fuck's sake, Roronoa, put your swords away."

"We're heading to their den, aren't we?" Zoro mutters. "We gotta be prepared."

"If you don't slide those swords back into their pretty little sheathes, I will eviscerate them again," Raya calmly says, narrowing her eyes. "And this time, Roronoa, I won't fix them."

Silence.

Law silently gives Zoro a curious side-eye, waiting with Raya for his next move.

The shink! of steel brushing against leather slides in slow, reluctant, movements, following with a tight snap, as the swords burrow themselves securely into their respective homes.

Raya smirks, sarcastically pouting back at Zoro's grumpy frown. "Good talk."

She looks over to the portholes behind Zoro and Law, realising that Nami, Usopp and Bepo's bewildered faces are staring out from the safety of their sleeping quarters. Raya sighs, stretching her fingers out by her sides. "Alright, let's go and fill the others in."

☆

"THIS IS SOOOOOO COOOOL!" Luffy yells, his voice echoing off into the depths of the cavern.

"Shut up, Luffy! Don't wake them up," Usopp quickly hisses as his legs shakingly clamber down the ship's ladder.

"But they're already awake?" Bepo mentions, staring wide-eyed at a colossal dragon that flies past their eyes.

"Shut up," Usopp panickily repeats, slamming his eyes shut as he feels the heavy breath of the dragon hit his face. "You're lying. You're lying. I can't see anything."

"I mean, I guess I won't be needing a lighter anymore." Sanji grins, reaching his cigarette out to a random sprout of fire that dances across the surface of a rock. "It's not too bad, Usopp. You could be the Strawhat's dessert, if you wanted to," he taunts with an evil grin plastered on his face.

Usopp pales. “Des… Dessert?”

"Hold on..." Brook looks around, his jaw dropping. "Where did Luffy go?"

"Don't worry," Robin smiles, waving her hand. "Franky's babysitting."

"This…This is incredible," Raya dazedly mutters to herself, entranced by the vast expanse of rock and fire.

The cavern is enormous – fit to house five hundred dragons, to be exact. It's so big that Raya can see a few dragons soar through as little specks of shimmering colour.

As Raya steps into the stomach-dropping view, her senses are immediately overwhelmed by the sheer magnitude of its grandeur. The cavern stretches before her like the yawning mouth of some ancient titan, its walls jagged and imposing, veined with veins of glimmering minerals that catch the flickering light from the fiery pits below.

Above, the ceiling disappears into darkness, lost to the depths of the earth, while below, the floor is a chaotic mosaic of molten rock and glowing embers, casting an eerie orange glow that dances across the cavern walls. The air is thick with the acrid scent of sulphur, punctuated by the occasional roar of a passing dragon and the crackling of flames.

Clusters of stalactites hang like icicles from the ceiling, their tips glistening with droplets of molten rock that drip into the fiery chasms below. Columns of stone rise up from the depths, their surfaces scarred and pitted from centuries of exposure to the elements.

But what truly captures Raya's attention are the dragons themselves. Massive beasts of every size and colour, their scales gleaming like jewels in the dim light, their wings spanning the length of several ships as they soar effortlessly through the cavern. Some lounge lazily on rocky outcrops, their eyes gleaming with a predatory intelligence, while others dart through the air with lightning speed, their forms blurred by the heat haze rising from the molten rock below.

Human, the familiar voice rumbles out, spinning Raya's head back into reality. Look at me, Human.

Suddenly, the colossal obsidian dragon reappears again, making Chopper and Brook screech out in surprise. It hovers in front of Raya with a slightly tilted head, almost as if he's offering some sort of respect. His wet eyes lock onto hers, his wings flapping in rhythmic movements, and silence fills Raya's ears as if a melody is playing that she is forbidden to listen to.

Raya holds her breath, feeling the warmth of his snout blow her hair backwards. She doesn't respond to his telepathic intrusion; she only stares.

The black dragon breathes out again, an odd similarity to a tired, human sigh.

Get on my back, he says. We have much to discuss.

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firefirefruit · 1 month

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hectic update

hello ! apologies for the late upload buuuuut work is hectic atm and i’m trying to juggle a looot on my plate rn!! buuuut a chapter will be posted soon so pls bear w me 😔😘

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firefirefruit · 1 month

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Steel in Her Veins, Chapter: Thirty-Four

Read On: AO3 | Table of Contents | Next Chapter

Characters: Fem!Reader x Roronoa Zoro

Chapter Thirty-Four: Aragnus

All she can think of is him.

He plagues her in her sleep. Comatose and unkempt, all her body is able to do is toss and turn, drink and re-drink each memorised plane of his body.

His hands. Large and calloused and firm – in another lifetime, she really would’ve complimented them. She would’ve held her fingers over them, quietly sliding over each scar, over each section of where his skin regrew to be tougher, to be stronger, to be… better.

Oh, and the way those very hands travelled across her jaw; his rough, heavy fingers curling across her throat as he held in his own admiring breaths reserved for her. They felt firm on her skin - yet in the way they lingered, they could only be described as soft, tender almost. It was as if they were self-assured, that in that moment, she was his, and nothing could take that away from him.

His mouth. His jaw. The way he’d silently part his lips and pant out repressed breaths as he’d loom over her, and when he stared at her like he’d never seen someone so delicious as her, consumed by the lust that even the strongest men are rendered vulnerable to…well, something tore within her.

Constant dreams. Of his breath laying hot against her skin, his large back curling over her body. His shoulder blades flex as his lips near the shell of her ear. And with each pant he released into her, another wall between them broke.

Hard kisses and shivering gasps and intensely gripped at hair. Bare skin brushing against bare skin, lips crossing across lips like wind that delicately brushes through long grass.

A swell of something inside her grows as she turns in her sleep again, her psyche desperately clawing at the vision that lays before her - begging, pleading, for it not to dissolve into some man-told fiction.

It’s a constant and repetitive dream, lasting for days on end. And when Raya finally stirs from her own relentless mind, she wakes up gasping, her torso shooting up from the bed.

Raya gasps heavily, blinking confusedly within the darkness of the medical cabin. It’s silent here, the only source of noise being from her own fearful mouth that inhales all the oxygen of the room.

She feels hot – too hot, uncomfortably hot in a way that feels like her body is on fire. On fire with anger, with lust and confusion and heat, and everything in between, every single thought and feeling is relentlessly aflame.

And so, Raya makes a run for it.

Plagued by the intensity of her own blood and skin, she swings her legs over and stumbles out on the night-ridden deck, where she’s immediately slapped in the face with a gust of freezing air.

Wearing nothing but a long shirt and socks, Raya stands on the deck, shivering. A repulsive sensation of the wind mingling in with her sticky sweat irritates her even further, making her look down and curse at herself for leaving the room without putting any pants on.

But when Raya inspects the skin on her legs closely, narrowing her eyes in suspicion, a sense of dread washes over her. Because her legs aren’t just bare, no. They’re glistening, with metallic protrusions threateningly spiking out from her skin.

Since when did it grow out of her legs, too?

“You should be asleep,” a deep voice mutters out from behind her, the heaviness of his boots creaking against the wooden surface of the dock.

Raya’s heart trembles.

Because she knows whose voice that is.

Raya spins around clumsily, meeting with the face she only stopped obsessing over a few moments ago.

Her breath catches in her throat as she continues to stand stupidly in front of him - Zoro, meanwhile, tries his absolute best not to look at her legs, but his little glances downwards betray him.

“I…feel…” Raya swallows. She doesn’t know when or why she does it, but her legs automatically take a dizzy step towards Zoro. “I feel all wrong.”

She takes another step closer, taking in Zoro’s baffled furrow of his brows, his arms tightly folding against his chest as he quickly scans her over for any sign of injuries.

She stares at him. At his strong jaw, the thin scar that slits down his eye, the muscles that ripple from his neck, and the heat from within her pulsates, the sweat across her skin beading faster together in a desperate attempt to regulate herself.

Zoro clears his throat, feeling quite uncomfortable with being under her scrutinising eye. “Wrong?” He forces his gaze away from her half-naked form. “What’re you talking about?”

Raya tries her best to shrug as coolly as possible. The heat underneath her skin continues to pulsate as she roughly swallows, eyeing the muscles that run so perfectly through his arms. And, as if on their own command, her fingers raise towards Zoro’s face, gravitating towards the line of his thinly veiled scar.

“I… Everything feels so…”

Zoro gapes at her as he raises his own hand, grabbing her fingers before they reach his face. He shakes his head, unable to take his eyes off from her. “Raya… You should go back to sleep.”

"I can’t. Someone’s coming for me. I can feel it" Raya dazedly whispers, rising on the tips of her toes to reach his face. She nears his mouth, her fingers gently searching for respite in the nook of his shoulder. “But…but I…”

She can’t control herself anymore. The heat within her is too suffocating, and she needs a release more than ever.

So, softly, ever so gently, her lips lay against Zoro’s neck. Peppering his tan skin with light kisses, trailing so sensually towards his clothed chest, her voice softly muffles against his body. "But I can’t seem to care."

Zoro stands frozen in place, his mind reeling as Raya's lips press against his neck with a tender urgency that sends pleasure through his entire body. His heart pounds in his chest, his breath catching in his throat as he struggles to comprehend the sudden shift.

For a fleeting moment, he's overcome by a surge of conflicting emotions - confusion, desire, and a gnawing sense of unease that coils like a serpent in the pit of his stomach. He knows that something isn't right, that Raya isn't herself, but the intoxicating heat of her touch ignites a primal urge within him that he can't ignore.

As her soft lips trail down his neck, leaving a trail of fire in their wake, Zoro's resolve begins to waver. His muscles tense involuntarily, his hands twitching at his sides as he fights against the overwhelming tide of desire that threatens to consume him.

Zoro's voice emerges as a rasp, strained with a mixture of disbelief and arousal. "Tenguyama," he manages to force out, his words thick with restraint. "What the hell has gotten into you?"

In response, Raya's gaze intensifies as she searches for his eyes, her own filled with a desperate longing. With a swift movement, she pulls away from him, her breath still warm against his skin. "Are you uncomfortable?" she asks, her voice barely a whisper. "I can stop."

Zoro's cheeks flush hotly, his gaze darting away from her as he struggles to find the right words. "No!" he blurts out, his voice tinged with embarrassment. "That's not... I mean, it's not about that. You're just... not yourself right now."

“But I want you,” she murmurs softly, her arms hesitantly returning to rest across his shoulders, pulling him closer. “I want you.

But just as Zoro begins to speak, his words are swallowed by a deep, guttural groan escaping his lips. Raya’s mouth electrifies his senses as her lips press against his neck - harder this time - and begins roughly sucking at his skin, sucking so desperately, that even Raya muffles out a sigh of pleasure. With each stroke of her tongue, he feels an intoxicating wave of pleasure wash over him, rendering coherent thought impossible.

“Raya,” he hoarsely mumbles. He fights to suppress a mounting groan as she responds to her name with a teasing nip at his neck. “You’re not in the right mind—”

“Why do you never leave me alone?” Raya slurs softly against his neck. She kisses a tender spot from below his ear. “Even when I’m in a bloody coma, you’re still there. Burned into my retinas.”

With a low growl of desire, Zoro leans into Raya's touch, his hands sliding possessively over her hips as he pulls her closer. The feel of her soft skin beneath his fingertips sends a shiver of anticipation down his spine, igniting a fierce hunger within him that demands to be sated.

Before Zoro can open his mouth, a ferocious onslaught of wind consumes the sails of the ship, throwing the Sunny itself into a spinning plank of wood. Amidst the deafening roar of the tempest, all semblance of sound is devoured by the howling winds, leaving only a cacophony of chaos in its wake. With wide-eyed terror, Raya watches as the air itself seems to warp and distort, heralding the arrival of an unimaginable threat.

An enormous gasp escapes her lips as the surreal sight unfolds before her: a horde of colossal dragons descending upon them with breath-taking speed.

Each behemoth is a marvel of ferocity and power, their scales gleaming like molten gold in the pale moonlight as they carve through the tumultuous sky with deadly precision.

Zoro's hands move with practiced urgency, instinctively reaching for the comforting weight of his swords as he braces himself for the impending clash. Muscles taut with anticipation, he stands ready to defend against this otherworldly onslaught.

"What the fuck?" Zoro's voice booms above the tempest, his words swallowed by the roar of the wind. But even amidst the shock, his resolve remains unyielding, his gaze fixed on the approaching threat.

And then, Raya does the mistakeable. She locks eyes with the largest of the swarm, the darkest of the dragons.

The dragon, a towering titan among its brethren, commands the sky with a presence that defies description. Its scales, as dark as the abyss itself, seem to absorb the moonlight rather than reflect it, giving the creature an aura of ominous power. Each movement is fluid yet purposeful, its sinewy form twisting and coiling with a grace that belies its immense size.

As it descends upon the ship with lethal intent, the dragon's eyes burn with an intensity that pierces through the chaos like twin beacons of malevolence.

It is her, his voice rings in her mind.

Raya staggers backward, overwhelmed by the sudden intrusion into her mind. The dragons' voices reverberate within her skull, sending shockwaves of pain rippling through her consciousness. She clutches her head, her nails digging into her scalp as she struggles to block out the cacophony of voices assaulting her senses.

Another dragon swoops into her vision with a huff from his snout, almost as if sneering at her. She does not smell strong, Aragnus. Perhaps old age is catching up to your snout.

The large dragon roars furiously in response, his large, wet eyes narrowing at his red brother.

Do not ridicule me, smallthing! He thunders out loud in Raya’s mind, making her scream out in pain, desperately clawing at her ears to make it stop. Her talons do not lie.

Speak with the human, Aragunus, a feminine voice huffs out. With each of its exhale, plumes of smoke and flame billow forth, painting the night sky with a searing glow of impatience. She seems to be in pain.

"What are you doing?" Zoro yells, staring at Raya who’s gripping at her head in complete terror. “Grab a weapon, already!”

But Raya shakes her head, her eyes never leaving the dark behemoth that soars overhead. “No,” she whispers, her voice barely audible above the roar of the wind. “No. They’re here for me.”

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firefirefruit · 2 months

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Steel in Her Veins, Chapter: Thirty-Three

Read On: AO3 | Table of Contents | Next Chapter

Characters: Fem!Reader x Roronoa Zoro

Chapter Thirty-Three: Sharp Metal, Be Damned

Zoro doesn’t know why he does it. Perhaps it comes from the pain that he had felt, from Raya’s thorned arms plunging into his, merging into an infinite circle of torture. Maybe it’s not that, but the way she’s moaning out in her sleep, blood and tears melding together on her face as the very definition of torture.

He watches her tremble in her unconscious state, her body spreading over his legs in cocooned fear. And he knows – he knows that if she were awake right now, he would not have this chance of watching her breaking apart so easily, so transparently.

He does not know, though, whether what he’s doing is right.

In a twisted way, he’s feeling touched.

He feels touched, to finally see her, the her that bears no façade – the her that can laugh purely and cry deeply and feel fear unapologetically.

But at the same time, he feels incredibly uncomfortable. Uncomfortable, knowing that if Raya was awake right now, he would not have been allowed to see this side of her so easily. She wouldn’t have been laying in his arms, shrapnel studding through his own scarred skin, and she definitely wouldn’t look as vulnerable as she’s looking now.

Would he want to be seen like this, unconscious - trembling and bleeding, moaning and crying, in front of the person he hates the most? The thought of it makes his stomach turn.

He silently looks down at her, lips pursed in thought, his hands slowly inching away from hers.

Zoro doesn’t know what to do. Whether to put her in the medic cabin alone, to battle with her own deep-seated issues, or… he should keep her in his arms, lying on the empty deck, and witness something that almost.... feels forbidden to his eyes.

Raya moves around, one of her hands gripping his arm, the other laying flatly on his chest.

And instantly, complete and utter pain sears through his own body. Without warning, the metal plunges in and cuts Zoro with such callous ferocity that it makes him take in a deep, hissing breath. Blood trickles out from beneath his shirt and on his arms from where her fingers touch.

He looks down, staring at her glimmering fingers. Her fingers, that look so innocent, so unaware of the pain they’re inflicting, that for some reason, it makes Zoro want to steel his resolve even more and block out the torturous throbs that they give.

Really, Zoro doesn’t know why he does it. He was meant to pick her up, carry her to the ship, and set her to rest—all away from the overwhelming herd of panic.

In one way or another, Zoro went off track. Suppose he could blame it on his lack of coordination skills, even if it isn’t true. Even if that’s the furthest from what really happened.

He slowly untangles an arm around her, and without thought, he places a hand over her prickly palm, softly disconnecting it from his chest.

He raises her hand to his lips with calm movements, uncaring of whether her talons stab through his cupped palm.

Raya moans out loud, but to Zoro’s surprise, she uses words this time. His warm breath bated, his lips pause a few millimetres away from her jagged skin.

“I… ’m sorry…” she mumbles.

And that was it. That was the trigger.

Zoro softly lays his lips on her fingers, kissing them – sharp metal, be damned – prolonging the moment as much as he can.

He lays another closed-mouth kiss against her fingers, softly brushing his lips over the coolness of her metallic arsenal.

“I know,” he whispers.

Her hand trembles in his grasp, the sharp edges of the metal digging into his skin, but Zoro doesn’t flinch. Instead, he continues to press soft kisses against her hand, his touch gentle and soothing.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers again, her voice barely above a breath, her closed eyes brimming with tears.

Zoro’s lips curve into a small, understanding smile as he gently lowers her hand back to the deck. His touch lingers for a moment longer before he pulls away. “I know,” he repeats softly, his voice filled with a warmth that surprises even him.

So much to be said - and some other things not.

At this moment, in one of those rare junctures in his life, Zoro truly feels afraid. She makes him feel afraid. Maybe a little angry, too, because never has he met someone as frustrating, as insufferable, as haughty as the likes of her – well, if you don’t count the shitty cook.

What’s more frustrating, though, is that this type of anger feels different to the one that’s reserved for Sanji. It feels more personal, more terrifying, more… fragile.

Zoro doesn’t deal well with fragility.

He stares down at her, sighing in reluctance. She’s got to go. To rest and get treated, and all that.

He looks at his own gaping wounds, the blood that still seeps out of him. He feels light-headed, odd discoloured spots coming into his own vision, but still, he pushes the pain into the back of his head and lunges into a stand with Raya in his arms.

Zoro’s boots creak heavily against the planks, his legs moving sluggishly towards Chopper’s workroom, making sure that at least Raya can rest properly.

Damn this woman. She may be fucking awful to be around, but he’d rather go see her snarling at him than see her buried deep in the ground. He doesn’t want to hear it again - those finalised, definite words confirming a person’s death. Similar to those awful, goddamned words he carries with himself to this day.

“Kuina is dead. She fell down the stairs.”

He gently lays her there against the white sheets. His breath is ragged as he watches her, the waves lapping silently around the curtails of the ship.

Then, all of a sudden, his knees hit the floor.

Is it the loss of blood that makes him fall so suddenly? Honestly, he doesn’t care - because, at this moment, he’s making sure she’s not going anywhere.

Moonlight filters in through the window, splitting into multiple rays as it lays softly against the brown colour of her hair and the honey-coloured skin of her fingers. He reaches for her wounded palm again, inching closer to taste the sensation of her fingertips against his.

“’M sorry,” she slurs out again.

“Me too,” he simply replies.

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firefirefruit · 2 months

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Sobbing

Guys…

200 notes on SiHV and 4,000 reads on AO3!

I’m not crying, you are…

Seriously, thank you to all who have majorly supported this fic! Your comments mean SO MUCH to me, it feels like opening a present every time I see a notif. I feel like I’m a kid all over again 🥺.

Thank you, my lovely readers! There’s a lot more to come for SiHV, so buckle up your seatbelts, because you’re on for a RIDE.

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firefirefruit · 2 months

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Steel in Her Veins, Chapter: Thirty-Two

Read On: AO3 | Table of Contents | Next Chapter

Characters: Fem!Reader x Roronoa Zoro

Chapter Thirty-Two: The Thorned

Metal. Hatching out from soft, fragile skin, splintering out like daggers from a suit of armour.

Raya breathes loudly, silently staring at her own hands. Watching it metamorphosise. In real time.

Blood trickles across her skin from each birthing of steel, pain consuming her body in constant throbs of torture. She says nothing, does nothing, but stare at it happening in paralysed fear.

“Go get my kit, Bepo,” Law bites out, his knees messily grounding into the sand. He darkly takes in Raya’s condition, eyes flickering across her skin in thought, his head subtly tilting towards the other doctor. “Chopper, your drug – what does it consist of?”

Luffy, drawn to the commotion, widens his eyes in admiration as he stares at the silver peeking through skin. “Woah, what are those on your hands, Swords? Is that a new weapon?”

“No, it’s not,” Law spits out, shooting Luffy daggers with his eyes. He immediately looks down to the reindeer. “What did you use?”

“Atropine and Mink salve,” Chopper alertly responds to Law, as he, too, sits before Raya. His hoofs gently take in Raya’s palms, frowning intensely. “Did you take your dose today, Raya?”

Luffy frowns at his response, realisation slowly dawning in on him of the severity of the scene before him.

“Raya… are you okay?” Luffy asks – in a much quieter voice this time – as he stumbles his way towards her.

“Um,” Raya swallows, her voice trembling. Her eyes flicker to Zoro, who doesn’t even spare a glance in her direction. She notices his arms folding even tighter against his chest as he stands amidst the lapping waves. “Yeah, about half an hour ago.”

“Her tolerance,” Law mutters, making Chopper nod his head in agreement. A panicked Bepo comes running from a distance, Law’s medical tools clasped in his big paws as his eyes tear up in fear for his long lost friend’s sake.

The doctor breathes out a sigh of relief as he accepts the pack from his second mate, and with quick fingers, he begins to unfold his flap of tools. “We need to determine the condition as fast as we can. No known cause, no known cure – I’ll be honest, this isn’t good.”

“Fuck,” Raya grits her teeth, her hands slightly trembling in the fluff of Choppers soft hooves. Another metallic spike lodges its way out of her skin, almost as if reacting to her sudden anxiety. “Why don’t you keep on scaring your patient, Law? It’s doing wonders for her.”

What am I going to do? Raya thinks, watching the blood trickle heavily against her skin. Chopper presses firmly on the edge of the metallic wound, making sure to not lodge the shrapnel further into her skin. This isn’t fair. I didn’t ask for any of this.

Suddenly, a warm hand rests on Raya’s shoulder.

She looks up, surprised, only to meet Luffy’s eyes.

Almost as if he’s read her mind, a soft, comforting smile sets on his lips, a bright look that promises her safety.

“You’re okay, Swords.” He smiles. “You’ll be the silver hedgehog of our crew, if they keep on growing outta you.”

And out of the blue, a flying hand comes into contact with Luffy’s head, smacking him so hard his head dislodges from his neck.

“Shut up, Luffy!” Nami yells.

“And here we were, thinking you were gonna be supportive for once,” Usopp sullenly mumbles, unimpressed.

As Law continues his examination, Zoro finally decides to walk towards the commotion, his arms so tensely folded together, the contours of his muscles bulge out in restrained fear.

"How did this happen?" he snaps, his gaze piercing as he directs his question at Raya.

Raya bristles at his accusatory tone, her jaw tightening as she meets his gaze head-on.

"What, you think I did this to myself?"

"I didn't say that," he replies. “But you sure as hell weren’t taking care of your hands when you were sharpening that sword before.”

“I’ve been sharpening swords my entire life, Roronoa. Spare me the lecture.”

“These conditions aren’t supposed to be triggered from physical wounds, either,” Robin gently intervenes, offering a comforting smile to both Zoro and Raya. She lifts the glittering tome in front of them – the one that they stole from the Shaman Island – and flips through the pages with delicate fingers. “According to the tome.”

Nami looks up at her, hope desperately grasping at her eyes. “Did you learn anything else? Does it talk about Raya’s condition at all?”

Robin shakes her head; worry takes over in the crease of her brows. “It only addresses basic mythic changes like metamorphosis.”

“Right, yeah, because that’s totally basic knowledge. You know, metamorphosis, something everyone knows about,” Usopp mumbles, gaping at Robin.

Raya's hands tremble slightly as she watches Law and Chopper work, holding in a painful breath, while Luffy silently rests his chin on her shoulder for moral support.

Zoro's gaze remains fixed on Raya, his earlier irritation tempered by a growing sense of concern.

"So, what are we supposed to do now?"

Law sighs heavily, his expression grave as he finishes his assessment.

"We need more information," he declares, his tone clipped and business-like. "Without knowing the cause, I can't offer any definitive treatment."

Raya's heart sinks at his words, the weight of her situation pressing down on her shoulders like a leaden blanket.

"But where do we even start?" she murmurs, her voice barely above a whisper.

Nami's eyes flash with realisation as she begins to mumble in a trance. "The guy I spoke to before," she softly mumbles. “The one who knows where Suki is. He knows something.”

Suki?

Raya’s heart stops, her whole body turning cold from hearing those words, before a whole flurry of metal shards pierce through her skin synchronously, making her scream out in bone-chilling pain.

“Raya!” Sanji shouts. He stares at the metal that now spreads to her arms like an uncontainable plague. He then glares at the Surgeon of Death, before furiously barking out, “Law, do something, for fuck’s sake!”

“Why don’t you stop yapping like a dog and let me do my job?” Law barks back, his narrowed in menacing slits.

But Raya doesn’t seem to be listening to them – instead, she continues to stare at Nami, her face growing paler by the moment. Blood drips onto her clothes like a monotonous metronome, her heart faintly beating in her chest, before she opens her mouth to speak.

“You know where Suki is?”

Nami looks at her worriedly, nodding softly. “Very vaguely — I mean, a potential spot on the map. I was going to tell you before, but then… I saw your hands…” her voice breaks, complete devastation taking over her composure. “We need to take you to that man, Raya. Gods save me, I’m going to find you a cure. And he might be the one who has it.”

Raya's breaths come in short, ragged gasps as she struggles to contain the agony coursing through her body. Each movement feels like a fresh onslaught of pain, the metallic protrusions from her skin digging deeper with every passing second.

No! Fuck the treatment! Fuck the concern over me! It’s Suki we need to save! She screams in her head. I’d rather die than prolong his torture further.

“No, Swords.” Luffy stares hard-eyed at Raya, almost terrifying in his assertive gaze. He moves his chin from her shoulder, looking at her face-to-face. “I’m not letting that happen.”

Raya gapes at him whilst still gasping from her pain. “I-I didn’t say anything, Luffy.”

He cocks his head at her. “But I heard your voice?”

Gods, he needs treatment more than I do.

His eyes flash up and grins in response. “See? That’s definitely you!”

“Can someone tell me what the hell is going on?” Zoro mutters, glaring between the swordsmith and his captain.

“You didn’t hear her?” Luffy frowns at him.

“Never mind that,” Raya forces out through clenched teeth, the pain hitting the very marrow of her bones. Another set of metallic teeth jut out from her arms, growing out like ruthless talons. “My old man is my top priority. Not my fucking arms. I swear to you, I’ll refuse any sort of medical treatment if I have to prove my point.”

Zoro scoffs out loud, almost letting his fury show through his calm composure.

“Yeah, no. That’s not happening,” he spits out, his jaw grinding together so hard Chopper begins to worry for his teeth.

Raya glares up at him, betrayal consuming her whole. If he’s so haunted by his own actions, then why’s he butting in?

“I thought we had an understanding, Roronoa,” she gasps out.

“No.” His nostrils flare, his face almost seeming drunk with anger. “Not at your expense, Tenguyama.”

Raya's breath hitches in her throat, a mix of pain and frustration swirling within her as she locks eyes with Zoro.

Zoro's expression hardens; he squares his shoulders, refusing to back down.

“Is this really what you think Suki wants? You, to needlessly die, for his sake?" he growls. “You wouldn’t be saving his life, no. You’d doom him to live a life as a broken man.”

Beat.

And Raya screams out in pure, uncontrolled fury, swiping her palms away from both doctors. She screams out so furiously, the tears that spill from her eyes are thick with fire.

She bellows into the air, so fiercely, so wildly, that the winds around her grow in such tumultuous speeds, swirling out so heavily around everyone, that Luffy’s hat almost disappears into its swallowing mouth.

“Who are you, to tell me that?” she yells out loud. And almost majestically, her feet raise from the sand.

Her eyes glow with whites and oranges as she floats within her own tempest. “You are insufferable.”

“Get down! Right now!” Law bellows at everyone, pulling himself and Bepo down to the sand. “She’s possessed!”

“Raya!” Nami screams as she scrambles for her hovering body, but before she gets anywhere near Raya, Luffy roughly tugs at her away in his arms.

“What the fuck?” Usopp screams, slamming his body to the ground with Chopper underneath his harm.

Raya does not know where she or who she is. She is simply elemental. She is both human and non-human.

And, as she rises higher and higher into the sky, her eyes blazing in a distant trance, the blood in drains from her faster and faster. She howls like the winds amongst her, cries like the way her own metal stabs at her, and all the same, she is confined to a frail human body that offers many limitations and very little freedom.

One of the limitations being blood.

Raya then collapses to the floor, no pupils found in the midst of the whiteness of her eyes.

Beat.

Zoro gathers her up in his arms, the metal from her body burrowing deeply into his own skin. He freezes in his spot for a second, allowing the metal to sink its teeth all the way into his body, allowing Raya’s complete pain to transfer into him.

And with no reaction – with no expression on his stern face, and no sound made from his clamped down mouth, he slowly moves, the shrapnels of her steel now lodged deeply in his own bloodstream.

And without even a look to the others, he walks back to the ship, with the thorned girl laying stricken in his bleeding arms.

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firefirefruit · 2 months

Text

Steel in Her Veins, Chapter: Thirty-One

Read On: AO3 | Table of Contents | Next Chapter

Characters: Fem!Reader x Roronoa Zoro

Chapter Thirty-One: Rubber

A myriad of packeted rubbers lay scattered across the table.

Chopper, usually the picture of innocence, squirms uncomfortably in his seat, his eyes fixed on the desk before him as he embarks on what is undoubtedly the most awkward conversation of his young life.

“So… when a male and a female engage in intimate intercourse…” Chopper quickly squeaks, his eyes firmly glued to his desk. “At the height of their stimulation, there’s something that occurs, called ‘ejaculat—’”

“Please. Please make it stop.” Raya’s stricken voice comes out in restrained muffles through the air-locked seal of her hands, whirls of hot steam continuously needling out from the gaps of her fingers.

“Ch-Chopper, it’s not what you think,” Zoro blurts out, squirming uncomfortably in his undersized chair. “W-we were just... training. Yeah – yeah, we… we were sparring.”

Raya’s mouth gives way to a miserable moan, shooting the samurai a withering glare from between her blackened fingers. “No. You’re stupid. You’re actually stupid. I think it’s finally hit me.”

Zoro’s eyes narrow as he turns his head, his expression forming a menacing snarl. He’s about to unleash a sharp retort when Chopper, sensing the tension mounting between the two, quickly intervenes. The little doctor knows all too well what’s coming next - another pointless squabble that would only serve to further strain their already fraught relationship.

With a quick dart of his furry little frame, Chopper positions himself squarely between the two, effectively diffusing the situation before it can escalate any further.

“Zoro. Training?” Chopper repeats, his tone sceptical. “C-completely naked?”

Zoro pauses. Slowly, almost comedically, red begins to colour the samurai’s face as he splutters for an explanation, something – anything – to get out of this Gods awful sex-talk with Chopper.

“Uh... well, yeah, you know...” he stammers, his words faltering under both Raya and Chopper’s unwavering scrutiny. “Sword-fighting… Cardio… Practicing… You know…”

“Just stop,” Raya whispers, looking wholly ashen.

Chopper sighs and takes his little red hat off from his head.

“Guys, it’s not like I’m enjoying having to do this,” he began, his voice tinged with exasperation. “But as your doctor, it’s my responsibility to see that you’re both being… safe.”

The room falls into a suffocating silence, each word from Chopper hanging in the air like an impending storm. Zoro and Raya avoid each other’s eyes, the tension between them thickening with every passing moment.

Chopper clears his throat, his eyes darting between the two. “Are either of you… o-on any sort of contraceptive, by—”

“No!” Raya instantly interjects, growing redder by the second. She fumes in her seat, never thinking she’d be asked these questions by the one crewmate she could only see as an innocent baby boy.

Chopper’s eyes widen in disbelief as he realises the weight of her answer.

“B-But you both know how babies happen… right?” he chokes out.

And in an instant, Zoro’s throat tightens as he chokes on his own saliva, his eye bulging comically wide in sheer shock. Meanwhile, Raya buries her face deeper into her palms, as if trying to conceal herself from the embarrassment that engulfs the room. Thick, chugging clouds of smoke rise above her head, practically begging her to hop aboard the humility train.

“Chopper… Last night was really… irresponsible, I know. We drank too much, it was a really weird moment for us… and I know you mean well with these but…” Raya hesitantly nudges the condom packets toward Chopper, her movements betraying her discomfort. “What we did was a one-time thing. A mistake. A disaster. A poor—”

Zoro’s teeth grind together audibly, a deep growl bubbling up from the depths of his throat like a menacing animal. With a swift motion, he jerks his head to the side, fixing the awkward girl with a piercing glare that could rival the intensity of a thousand suns.

Insulting his prowess in the bedroom? He won’t let that slide.

“Funny. ’Cause I saw otherwise - when I had your lips wrapped tightly around my finger,” Zoro retorts through clenched teeth, his words dripping with pure bitterness. The following few words rumble out quieter from his lips, his body angling towards the warmth of her body. “Or did we forget that little moment?”

Raya’s eyes widen in horror as Zoro’s words hang heavy in the air, the heat of embarrassment consuming her hair like wildfire. Her mind races to comprehend what Zoro just said, struggling to grasp the reality of their drunken escapade.

“I-I don’t think we remembered last night quite too clearly, then,” Raya chokes out, her voice barely above a whisper as she stares straight ahead, unable to meet anyone’s gaze. “We were very intoxicated. We didn’t do such a thing.”

He crosses his arms, tilting his head at an angle as a smirk plays at the corners of his lips.

“Didn’t stop you from locking your legs around me so desperately,” he lowly whispers.

Chopper’s choked surprise fills the room, his tongue nearly rolling out of his mouth in disbelief, while Raya’s face flushes with rage at Zoro’s audacity. Her fists clench at her sides, nails digging into her palms as she struggles to contain her fury.

“You’re despicable,” she hisses, her voice dripping with venom.

Zoro’s smirk widens, his eyes glinting with amusement as he revels in their verbal sparring. “Oh, am I? Or are you just too ashamed to admit the truth?”

Chopper watches the exchange with growing concern, his brow furrowing as he searches for a way to diffuse the escalating tension between the two.

“Guys, come on,” he interjects weakly, his voice barely audible over the simmering hostility in the room. “Let’s-“

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Raya screams, sparks of fire engulfing her brows in menacing stabs. “You—you’re so… insufferable!”

Zoro shrugs nonchalantly, edging himself closer to her, his smirk never faltering in the face of her fury.

“And yet, you can’t seem to stay away.”

“Fuck you,” she spits out.

“Fuck you, too,” Zoro smirks, his tone mocking as he relishes in their verbal exchange. “How'd it go again after that? ‘Fuck m-’”

With a screech of a chair toppling over, Raya storms out of the medic cabin, her exit abrupt and final, leaving Zoro with his unfinished sentence hanging in the air.

But Raya’s fury is far from quenched. Like a hurricane flown from the burning hells, she lunges towards her smithing equipment in one smooth movement before hurtling down the deck, running away from anyone in her line of sight - until, she realises, that there seems to be virtually no other person on the deck.

She stands there aloof, looking around in complete silence.

No one's here. The Sunny, for once, creaks silently across the sea, with no trail of voices echoing against its lumber.

She looks around, scanning for clues and then suddenly, warmth spreads across her chest as the realisation kicks in.

She stares at the anchor that's lodged into the depths of the sea.

They’ve finally reached an island.

While she was in there, bickering with the stupid asshole, they were in the midst of anchoring. Law’s ship floats behind the Sunny, anchored to its tail like a sodden trail of misfortune, but the sand that brushes against its metal is undeniable.

It’s an island. A temporary escape. From... him.

And just as suddenly, she takes a flying leap out of the ship.

Her feet sink into warm, golden sand, enveloping her ankles in a soft embrace. The sensation is pure bliss, and for a moment, she forgets about everything else. The sun beats down on her skin, its intense heat offering a welcome respite from the cold, sterile walls of the ship.

And with a war cry, she begins running.

She runs so hard across the landscape that her lungs breathe fire, and her metals screech in desperation. Her legs kick from beneath her like a stallion in the midst of overgrown fields.

Everything’s a blur; the world spins, and her thoughts are all jumbled in a mess of unorganised breaths. For one moment, for one instant, she lets go.

For one moment, for one instant, she allows herself to forget everything.

She breathes in the saltiness of the air and lets her feet feel the warmth of the ground as it slowly paves its way into the corners of her pumping heart.

She lets go until she no longer can, when her legs can’t keep up with her anger, and her heart begs for respite, and all her metals go crashing against the dense ground.

The world is silent except for her loud breaths, and Raya stands there, staring helplessly at the glimmering sword.

She feels a sharp prickle behind her eyes, an unwelcome sensation threatening to spill over into tears.

What was she thinking?

Her chest heaves intensely.

What was she thinking, allowing herself to succumb to her wants, to desecrate a dynamic with a person that did not need meddling with?

What is she doing, enjoying herself? Grinning, and drinking, and talking, and tinkering away in her beautiful little workshop on the top of a beautiful ship; meanwhile, Suki is hanging onto his life by a thread.

She clenches her fists, the sand slipping through her fingers as she struggles to contain herself.

And why him? She could’ve chosen anyone… anyone except for him. And for some reason, she let her, what, lust take over?

Instantly, she shakes her head. She does not lust for Zoro. No. She won’t let that happen.

She falls into the warmth of the sand, the sun casting a golden glow over her skin, the waves lapping so warmly from a faraway distance. It’s been an eternity since she last felt the solid earth beneath her feet, an eternity spent adrift on the boundless sea. But this, she realises, is her reality now—a life suspended between sky and sea, all for the sake of him. For Suki.

All for the sake of Suki.

Her gaze drifts to the sword cradled in her lap, Suki’s sword, a silent testament to her unwavering belief in his survival. She’s avoided it until now, afraid of what its touch might awaken within her.

Today, however, she reaches out to it, her fingers tracing the contours of its hilt with a mixture of reverence and trepidation. She understands now that avoiding his belongings only serves to betray her dwindling resolve. And she won’t allow herself to do that. She’ll let anything else to break inside of her except for her faith in that old man’s life.

So she sets about her task with a determination born of desperation, each stroke of the blade a whispered prayer, a vow to keep it sharp and ready for Suki’s inevitable return. With each pass of the whetstone, she imbues it with her unwavering faith, willing it to serve as a promise to seeing him again.

She ignores the searing pain in her arm, the steady drip of blood from her wounded fingers, focusing solely on the task at hand. Raya ignores the blood that tears through the skin of her fingers as she ruthlessly continues to sharpen and refine the blade.

The world fades away, replaced by the rhythmic scrape of steel against stone, the only sound that matters in her universe of silver.

A sharp jab to her arm breaks her trance, the syringe containing Chopper’s temporary cure dully tumbling to the ground. But she hardly notices, her mind consumed by the singular purpose of her work. She presses on, her wounds growing bigger, her movements fuelled by determination and devotion, until the blade gleams with an otherworldly brilliance.

A pair of sandy footsteps soon break that trance.

As their eyes meet, countless emotions flicker across Raya’s face - a mixture of surprise, heated resignation, and a hint of vulnerability. Zoro stands before her, a stalwart figure against the backdrop of the sinking sun. His typically steely gaze softens, revealing a trace of concern that simmers beneath the surface.

Raya’s exhale is heavy with weariness as she leans her sword against her thigh, the weight of her exhaustion and frustration palpable in the air. “I’m really not up for a fight right now,” she mutters, her voice carrying the burden of her fatigue. She raises a hand to shoo him away. “Off you go.”

Zoro’s response is swift, a shake of his head accompanied by a determined expression. “That’s not why I’m here.”

With deliberate steps, he closes the distance between them, his eyes narrowing as he notices the subtle tremor in her hands. His chest tightens with a mixture of concern and guilt as he observes the way her fingers clench and unclench, a silent testament to the turmoil raging within her.

And then he sees them – the raw wounds that mar her delicate skin, stark against the soft sand beneath their feet. His breath catches in his throat, a pang of distress coursing through him as he takes in the sight.

Clamping his teeth together, he suppresses the urge to voice his concern, his jaw tightening with resolve as he reaches for the worn bandana wrapped around his own arm. With practised movements, he unravels the cloth, his fingers tracing the frayed edges with reverence and regret.

Each fold of the fabric ruffles as his skin kisses hers. He wraps the bandana around her injured fingers with gentle yet purposeful movements, his touch tentative and uncharacteristically soft.

They sit in a cocoon of silence, the rhythmic melody of the waves crashing against the shore the only sound between them. Zoro’s gaze remains fixed on the ground, his fingers intertwined with hers in a silent symphony of solidarity.

Finally, breaking the stillness, Zoro’s voice cuts through the quiet like a gentle breeze.

“I went too far,” he confesses, his words barely above a whisper. “I’m sorry.”

Raya’s response is equally soft, tinged with exhaustion and resignation. “S’okay. Me too.”

The silence stretches on, punctuated only by the rhythmic sound of waves crashing against the shore. The salty scent of the sea fills the air, mingling with the fading warmth of the setting sun. Neither Zoro nor Raya feels the need to fill the void with words; simply being next to each other, sharing in the quiet peace of the moment, is enough for now.

Time seems to slow as they sit side by side, watching as the sky transforms into a canvas of vibrant colours, painted with orange, pink, and gold streaks. The horizon blurs, the boundary between sea and sky merging into an indistinct line.

Then, as the last remnants of daylight fade into dusk, Raya turns to Zoro, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. The weight of her question hangs heavy in the air, the gravity of her words palpable even in the fading light.

“Can I ask you a serious question?” she whispers, her voice barely audible above the gentle rustle of the breeze. Zoro meets her gaze, his expression softening with concern and curiosity. He nods, wordlessly encouraging her to continue.

The tension between them crackles like electricity, a palpable energy charging the air around them. Raya’s heart pounds in her chest, and the anticipation of Zoro’s response causes her breath to catch in her throat. She searches his face for any sign of his feelings, but his expression remains inscrutable, his eyes betraying nothing.

“How did you feel, really? Having to force yourself not to help Suki?” Her voice trembles with emotion, the vulnerability in her question laying bare the depths of her turmoil.

Instinctively, Zoro’s finger rises to brush away a stray tear from her cheek, his touch gentle and comforting. His gaze lingers on her lips for a moment, a fleeting and inexplicable hesitation flickering in his eyes.

He exhales heavily, his breath mingling with the salty air. “Haunted,” he admits, his voice weighted with a sense of heaviness. “I’m haunted by it.”

Raya’s chest tightens at his words, the weight of his confession sinking in like an anchor dragging her down. She feels a surge of emotion welling up inside her, but she suppresses it, unwilling to let herself unravel in front of him.

Silence envelops them once more, thick and palpable, as if it were a living, breathing entity settling between them. Raya’s nod is almost imperceptible, a subtle acknowledgement of the truth that lingers between them, a fragile bridge spanning the chasm of their unspoken words. It’s not an apology, but in that moment, it’s enough.

Zoro grunts softly, the sound breaking through the stillness like a stone cast into a placid pond. His gaze drifts to the sword nestled in Raya’s lap, a relic of a haunted past.

“Is that your old man’s?”

Raya’s eyes follow his, a bittersweet smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

“Yeah,” she replies quietly, her voice a whisper carried by the breeze. “Just freshening her up before she reunites with her owner.”

Zoro nods, his fingers inching closer to the gleaming metal as if drawn by an invisible force.

“How... how do you get it so sharp?” he asks, his curiosity piqued by the intricacies of blade maintenance. There’s a genuine fascination in his voice, a hunger for knowledge tempered by a deep-seated respect for the craftsmanship before him.

A faint smirk dances across Raya’s lips, her eyes alight with a mischievous glint. “Wow, Roronoa. You wanna learn? From me?” she teases. “Are you sure? I might stab you in the back once I catch you off-guard.”

Zoro shrugs nonchalantly, though his eyes betray a hint of genuine interest. “You do that, I’ll cut your equipment in half again.”

Raya’s laughter dances on the breeze, a melody of warmth amidst the cooling evening air. “Fair warning, then. Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” she quips, her eyes alight with playful mischief as they lock with Zoro’s.

With a gentle touch, Raya guides Zoro’s hands, each movement purposeful and sure. She demonstrates the art of blade maintenance with practiced precision, her guidance a testament to her skill and expertise.

Their proximity grows intimate as they work together, a silent understanding passing between them with each shared moment. It’s a dance of mentorship and camaraderie, their movements fluid and harmonious.

From behind, their silhouettes merge into one—a small bear embracing a larger one. Raya’s slender form nestles against Zoro’s broad shoulders, her breath soft against his skin as she leans in to inspect the sword. Zoro’s heart quickens at the closeness, his senses heightened by her presence.

Their hands, a study in contrast, find a natural rhythm as they interlace. Zoro’s rough, calloused palms envelop Raya’s calloused fingers, their touch a symphony of strength and grace.

“So what you gotta do first, is hold her like this...”

For a brief instant, time seems to stand still as they linger in the quiet intimacy of the moment. The gentle rhythm of their breaths mingles with the soft scrape of metal against stone, creating a symphony of sound that fills the air around them.

“So,” Zoro clears his throat, breaking the tranquil silence, “When’s my last sword gonna be fixed?”

The question hangs in the air, and Raya feels the air go out of her lungs. “Soon, I think,” she manages to force out, her voice strained with the weight of unspoken emotions.

Zoro’s brow furrows slightly at her response, a flicker of concern dancing in his eyes. “You know,” he murmurs almost to himself, his gaze distant as if lost in thought, “I wish you fixed that one first.”

Raya’s curiosity is piqued, her gaze narrowing slightly as she meets his eyes. “Why’s that?” she questions, her voice tinged with suspicion.

“Nothing, really. It… belonged to someone I knew,” Zoro replies cryptically, his voice barely above a whisper - as if sharing a secret too precious to speak aloud.

A surge of surprise courses through Raya, her heart skipping a beat at the unexpected revelation. “Who?” she demands, her voice trembling. “W-who? What was their name?”

Zoro pauses, turning to face her fully. His breath lays warmly against her skin, lips barely millimetres apart as he regards her with a questioning frown.

“Why d’ya wanna know so bad?”

Raya shakes her head, her eyes locked with his. “Tell me,” she implores, her voice barely above a whisper. “Her name. Tell me her name.”

Zoro’s eyes narrow at her persistence, but he leans closer, curiosity evident in his gaze.

“Kuina,” he answers quietly.

Before Raya can process the significance of his words, a sudden, sharp jolt runs through Zoro’s body, causing her to gasp in shock. Zoro recoils, his hand jerking back as if stung by unseen forces. His eyes widen in shock, accusingly locking with Raya’s.

She looks down, her heart pounding in panic. Blood seeps through Zoro’s palms, a gaping wound tearing through his skin.

Her hands come into view, and for a second, it feels like her body has stopped functioning.

She stares at her blackened palm, slightly tilting it under the light to see it… shining.

Silver adorns her skin like scales, glittering in what could only be called a menacing set of sharp steel.

“Raya! Raya!” Nami cries as she hurtles towards them from the forest, her words tumbling out in a frantic rush. “There’s a lead! I found a lead – I-I… Raya…?”

48 notes · View notes

firefirefruit · 2 months

Text

Steel in Her Veins, Chapter: Thirty

Read On: AO3 | Table of Contents | Next Chapter

Characters: Fem!Reader x Roronoa Zoro

notes: smiles sweetly.

MDNI - MINORS DO NOT INTERACT (thank you! :p)

Chapter Thirty: Fuck You, Too.

“This is a bad idea,” Zoro pants out, mumbling against her plump, wet mouth. He slides his teeth over her bottom lip – over the mouth that would always pout at him antagonistically, the thickness of her disapproval reflecting in the curve of her hot fucking frown. Just thinking about it makes Zoro grunt defiantly and tug his teeth at her lips, punishing her for all she’s done to him.

“We should stop,” he grunts again, a lot less convincingly now. Even as he speaks the words, his actions betray him, his grip tightening on her jaw, his fingers hungrily smoothening over her skin he constantly surreally dreams of marking with his very own mouth.

He wakes up from those dreams feeling horrified for what his mind would come up with - but even in his waking moments, he couldn’t deny his wants, couldn't hide it from himself. He wants to mark her, to bruise her in the only way one could gasp out in pleasure from.

He wants to test himself in a sort of different kind of battle, to see if he could conquer her disdain with the same ferocity he wield in combat. He longs to feel her breath hitch to ridiculous levels by the use of his own mouth, to see if he can win her through the use of his hands, to finally be able to tear down her repulsive distaste for him.

He still dislikes her, to be clear. He still finds her insufferable. Overemotional and haughty and obnoxious, she’s nothing he finds attractive in his normal, go-to woman.

So, why does he want to fuck her so badly then?

Fuck her so badly - so angrily – that she won't be able to even part her gorgeous lips to hurl out one of her typical insults at him. To fuck her so badly, that instead, she moans into the shell of ears, grasping at his hair as he thrusts in her harder.

“Yeah,” Raya breathes out a small, unwilling whimper at the feeling of his teeth pulling at her, untethering her bit by bit. Her skilled hands unapologetically slip from beneath his shirt, cold fingers gripping at his chest like protracting claws on a growling cat. And in an instant, she yelps out loud as she feels a pair of lips pressing firmly against her neck, his tongue lapping at her skin in desperate circular motions.

“Fuck,” she moans out, her fingers running through his green hair, gripping at the roots in defiance. Realising she just indirectly complimented his efforts, she clenches her teeth down hard, refusing to give Zoro any more of her evident satisfaction. “I-I mean… fuck you.”

Zoro smirks against her skin. Then, in one motion, he bites at her neck, making Raya whine out loud.

“Fuck you, too,” he murmurs roughly, his hand snaking around her shoulder and into the pool of her brown, curling hair. He tugs at it gently, angling her head to make her lock eyes with him.

Raya stares at him desperately, loathingly, powerless from beneath his touch. Her bare neck moves intimately as she swallows, silence dawning on them as they take a moment to consume each other through their watchful gazes.

She parts her lips, breathing out sharply, her chest moving wildly. She stares at him with those fucking glittering, pleading eyes, making Zoro clench his jaw even harder as he feels a shard throb go through him.

“Fuck me,” she whispers, her voice melting into the darkness.

Zoro freezes at her words, his breath catching in his throat as he registers the intensity of her gaze. For a moment, the world seems to shrink around them, leaving only the two of them suspended in a charged silence.

He searches her eyes, seeking some semblance of hesitation, of doubt, but finds none. Instead, he sees a raw, unbridled desire burning within her, mirrored by the fire that courses through his own veins.

With a low growl, he crushes his lips against hers once more, the kiss fierce and demanding, fueled by a hunger that he can no longer suppress. Abruptly, he pulls away, holding her face in one hand, staring at her with narrowed eyes.

“Say it again,” he roughly demands, his chest panting.

Raya's chest rises and falls with ragged breaths as she meets Zoro's intense gaze, her eyes reflecting a mixture of defiance and desire. She doesn't back down, though, not even when faced with his demanding stare.

She smirks in between his squeezing hand and wriggles her head so that her mouth lays underneath his thumb. She parts her lips, her tongue encircling his digit, her innocently-feigned doe-eyed gaze locked on his.

With no refusal, Zoro lets her do as she wants, silently drinking in her beautiful, vulnerable self positioned below him. She sucks, her hot breath and wet tongue lolling over his thumb in her mouth, her gorgeous plump lips squeezing around his thumb like a seal-tight enclosure. She revels in Zoro’s dazed, gasping stare as she continues to taste the salt of his sweat, lightly nipping at him in the process.

She pulls away with a pop to her lips, saliva drooling across his thumb in a thick tendril of taste.

“You heard me the first time,” she teases lowly. She raises an eyebrow, her meticulous fingers finding way to her bra strap, daintily pulling it off her shoulder. “I won’t say it again, Roronoa.”

Zoro's mind races with conflicting emotions, his body thrumming with anticipation and desire. He's torn between the urge to seize control and the intoxicating allure of surrendering to the fire that burns between them.

With a primal growl, Zoro closes the distance between them, his hand reaching out to grasp her chin firmly yet gently. He tilts her head upwards, forcing her to meet his intense gaze, his eyes blazing with raw desire.

"You think you can toy with me like this?" he breathes, his voice a low, guttural growl that sends shivers down her spine. "You think you can deny me what I want?"

Raya's smirk widens into a wicked grin as she meets Zoro's intense gaze, her eyes gleaming with defiance and a hint of mischief. She revels in the power she holds over him, the thrill of pushing him to the edge of control.

"Maybe I can," she purrs, her voice dripping with seduction. "Or maybe I just enjoy watching you squirm."

Zoro's grip tightens on her cheek, his thumb tracing the curve of her lips with a possessive caress. His gaze smoulders with raw intensity, his desire for her burning hotter than ever.

"You're playing with fire, woman," he growls, his voice low and dangerous. "But don't think for a second that I won't burn you right back."

Raya's laughter rings out like music in the darkness, a melodic symphony of defiance and desire. She knows she's pushing him to the brink, tempting fate with every word and gesture.

"Try me," she challenges, her eyes smouldering with a fire that matches his own. "I dare you."

Zoro’s large frame looms over Raya like a solid shadow, his hands taking his time to take off his belt. With a dark, narrowed gaze, he smirks in the moonlight, the sound of metal unhooking from leather ringing in the air.

He places a knee in between her legs, climbing over the table she’s positioned herself on. And gently, he shoves her against the table, her back landing softly on its wooden surface.

“Fuck you,” he snarls, aggressively palming at the imprint of his throbbing dick as he watches her laying there.

Raya reaches out and grabs him by the collar of his shirt, tugging him off balance so that he falls over her. Lips only millimetres apart, she smirks at him, her brown eyes intoxicated with alcoholic desire.

“Fuck you, too,” she whispers, and in a sudden, she slaps his hand away to palm over his covered cock. Her fingers can’t even manage to curl all the way around his size, his thick length springing against the fabric of his boxers.

Zoro's breath hitches at Raya's boldness, his arousal spiking at the sensation of her fingers tracing the outline of his erection through his boxers. He grits his teeth, fighting the urge to give in completely to the overwhelming desire coursing through him.

With a growl, Zoro grabs Raya's wrist, pinning it above her head with a forceful grip. His eyes blaze with a mixture of lust and determination as he leans in close, his lips brushing against hers in a teasing caress.

"You're playing a dangerous game, Raya," he warns, his voice low and rough with desire. "But if you want to play, then let's play."

With that, Zoro releases her wrist and slides his hand down her body, tracing the curves of her hips and thighs with a hungry touch. He reaches the hem of her skirt, his fingers teasing the sensitive skin of her inner thighs as he inches closer to her core.

Raya arches her back, pressing herself against him with a needy whimper. She can feel the heat of his arousal against her, the anticipation building between them like a wildfire ready to consume them both.

"You want me?" She breathes, her voice husky with desire. "You have me."

Zoro's primal instincts take over as he feels Raya's heat radiating against him, her intoxicating scent filling his senses. Without hesitation, he buries his face in the crook of her neck, trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses along her skin as he explores every inch of her with his lips and tongue.

Raya's breath hitches at the sensation of Zoro's mouth on her, her body arching instinctively towards him as waves of pleasure wash over her. She wraps her legs around his waist, pulling him closer as she grinds against him, desperate for more.

Zoro responds with a low growl of approval, his hands roaming freely over her body as he seeks to ignite every nerve ending with his touch. He teases her, tracing delicate patterns along her inner thighs before finally slipping his fingers between her slick folds.

Raya moans loudly, her head spinning with pleasure as Zoro expertly strokes her, driving her closer and closer to the edge. She bucks against his hand, her nails digging into his back as she rides the waves of ecstasy crashing over her.

“What a fuckin’ slut,” he murmurs roughly, pumping his fingers in and out in intense motions. “Who told you to get all wet for me?”

As Zoro's words sear through the haze of pleasure clouding her mind, Raya's eyes flutter open, meeting his smouldering gaze with a mixture of defiance and desire. With a wicked grin, she arches her back, pressing herself against him even harder as she revels in the feeling of his fingers driving her wild with desire.

"Who said I was wet for you?" she retorts, her voice dripping with sarcasm and seduction.

Zoro's eyes narrow at her boldness, his lips curling into a predatory smirk as he continues to pleasure her relentlessly. He's intoxicated by the sight of her writhing beneath him, her moans music to his ears as he drives her closer and closer to the edge.

"Doesn't matter," he growls, his voice rough with desire. The squelching of her pussy grows louder in between them as he fervently palms at his own cock. “’Cause right now, this cunt is mine.”

And as a demonstration, he slips a third finger into her hole, relentlessly fucking the shit out of her wetness.

Raya's breath hitches at the sudden intrusion, her eyes widening with a mixture of surprise and pleasure. She gasps, her body arching instinctively towards him as he consumingly plunges into her, driving her towards the edge of oblivion.

But just as she feels herself teetering on the brink of climax, Zoro abruptly withdraws his fingers, leaving her aching and hungry for more. With a growl of frustration and desire, she meets his gaze, silently demanding an explanation.

Zoro leans in close, his lips brushing against hers in a teasing caress. "You turn me insane," he breathes out, his voice rough with desire. "It’s only fair I make you feel the same way."

Without waiting for a response, he releases his cock from his pants, springing out aggressively and immediately slapping against her lower stomach; its head, swollen and engorged, glistens with moisture as it seeks out the warmth and wetness of Raya's eager cunt, making it spasm harder in the cold air, pleading for her entrance.

Raya's eyes widen as she takes in the sight before her, her breath catching in her throat at the sheer size and girth of Zoro's cock. It's a sight to behold, intimidating yet undeniably enticing, filling her with a primal hunger that cannot be denied. She reaches out tentatively, her fingers trembling with anticipation as she traces the length of his shaft, feeling the hardness and heat of him against her skin.

Zoro's lips curl into a wicked smirk as he watches Raya's reaction, relishing in the power he holds over her. He knows the effect he has on her, knows the way she craves him despite her best efforts to resist. With a low growl, he presses himself against her, the tip of his cock brushing against her slick folds, teasing and tantalizing her with the promise of what's to come.

Raya gasps at the sensation, her body quivering with need as she feels Zoro's cock pressing against her entrance. She arches her back, offering herself up to him willingly, desperate for the release only he can give her.

“Beg for it,” he whispers to her, licking at the shell of her ear. “Beg for me to fuck you.”

Raya's breath hitches at Zoro's whispered command, her body trembling with anticipation as she feels his hot breath against her ear. She knows she should resist, should maintain some semblance of control, but the overwhelming desire coursing through her veins drowns out any rational thought.

“Fuck me, you asshole,” she pants out, her eyes narrowing at him. “Show me what you've got.”

Zoro's lips curl into a wicked grin at Raya's response, his eyes gleaming with primal hunger as he savors the challenge she presents. He revels in her defiance, in the way she meets his gaze with unwavering determination, refusing to back down even in the face of his intense desire.

Without a word, he positions himself between her legs, his cock throbbing with anticipation as he guides it to her slick entrance. With a slow, deliberate thrust, he pushes inside her, filling her completely with his thick length.

Raya gasps at the sensation, her body trembling with pleasure as she feels Zoro stretching her, filling her to the brim with his cock. She arches her back, meeting his thrusts with eager enthusiasm, craving the raw intensity of their coupling.

With each thrust, Zoro's aggression becomes more apparent, his movements driven by a primal need to dominate and possess Raya completely. There's a raw intensity to his thrusts, a forcefulness that borders on the edge of control as he plunges deeper into her, claiming her as his own.

His hips snap forward with precision and power, drilling his cock into her with a relentless rhythm that leaves Raya gasping for breath. Each thrust is accompanied by a guttural growl of pleasure, a primal sound that echoes through the room as Zoro loses himself in the heat of the moment.

He grips her hips with bruising force, his fingers digging into her skin as he guides her movements, setting a pace that pushes them both to the brink of ecstasy. There's a possessiveness in his touch, a hunger that cannot be quenched as he seeks to consume her completely with his desire.

As he thrusts into her, Zoro's gaze remains locked on Raya's, his eyes blazing with raw desire as he watches her surrender to the pleasure coursing through her veins. He revels in the way her body responds to his touch, the way she arches her back and moans out loud, her nails digging into his skin as she rides the waves of ecstasy crashing over her.

Her walls tightening around his girth is what pushes him almost the edge. With an intoxicated grunt, he heaves himself forward, a hand gripping at her throat with unsatiated lust, his other hand fondling with her breast. He places his thumb in between her lips, seeking entrance to her warm, wet mouth, and she obliges with no restraint, her eyes as dazed as ever as she gurgles out semi-conscious moans from her throat.

“Look at you, acting all fucked and spent. Desperate fuckin’ slut,” he grunts out, his teeth gritting against each other. Her walls clench even tighter in reaction to his words, and Zoro can’t help himself but grin widely to that. “You like that, huh?”

Raya's response to Zoro's words is immediate and instinctive. With a defiant glint in her eyes, she bites down on his thumb with just enough force to send a jolt of pleasure coursing through his veins. Her teeth graze his skin, leaving behind a faint imprint as she meets his gaze head-on.

Zoro's breath hitches at the sensation, a low growl rumbling in his chest as he feels the sharp sting of her teeth against his thumb. He meets her gaze with a mixture of surprise and arousal, his desire for her burning hotter than ever.

"Fuck," he growls, his voice rough with desire. "Think you can play rough, huh?"

But before Raya is able to part her lips to retort something back, an ear-deafening crash rings through the workshop like a hell-sent thunderbolt. The sound reverberates through the workshop, sending vibrations rippling through the air and causing tools to clatter to the ground. Raya's words are swallowed by the cacophony, her mouth left hanging open in shock as she tries to comprehend what could have caused such a disturbance.

Zoro's instincts kick in immediately, his body tensing as he scans the room for any sign of danger. His hand instinctively goes to the hilt of his sword, his chest heaving aggressively in the tense silence.

But as the echoes of the crash fade away, a tense silence settles over the workshop, broken only by the sound of their racing hearts. Zoro and Raya exchange a narrowed glance, their eyes reflecting a mixture of apprehension and curiosity as they brace themselves for whatever may come next.

And then, without warning, the source of the crash reveals itself—a tiny, antler-headed figure standing in the doorway, bathed in the dim light filtering in from outside.

Chopper.

He stares, wide-eyed and horrified, of what lays before him.

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firefirefruit · 2 months

Text

Chapter Twenty-Nine: Stupid Fucking Plan

Read On: AO3 | Table of Contents | Next Chapter

Characters: Fem!Reader x Roronoa Zoro

Raya holds her breath, her eyes flickering anxiously over the dark figure that looms behind the door. Zoro, who stumbles into a crouch, breathes warmly on her skin, his lips only a few millimetres away from the croon of her neck – and Raya can’t help but gasp in surprise to the sensation, her breath catching in her throat.

Aggressive knocks shudder against the wooden door, the floor vibrating with each knuckled thud; and any thought that was about to form in Raya’s mind dissipates with each trembling smack, worry lines creasing deeply into her forehead in its place.

“I know you’re in there,” Law snarls, his voice reverberating through the door and into the apparent darkness. “I swear, if you're making adjustments on Kikoku without my explicit permission, I'll rearrange your anatomy piece by piece."

Zoro scoffs, instantly parting his lips hurl out a retort, but before he does, Raya’s fingers immediately brush over his mouth in a tight clasp. With a warning in the glint of her eyes, she stares at Zoro as he almost teasingly tries close his lips in a slow, languid motion from beneath her skin.

They stare at each other, his hot breath kissing her cold fingers, the outline of his mouth forming into an invisible sculpture Raya can only dream of replicating in the dark corners of her workshop.

In an abrupt crescendo, another set of footsteps hasten toward the door, their hurried rhythm pounding against the wooden planks with an urgency that borders on desperation.

"Law," a voice pants out, the breath labored and nearly alarming in its intensity. Raya's eyes dart away from Zoro as she recognizes the voice, a surge of relief flooding through her. With a fierce effort to contain her emotions, she nudges Zoro aside from the porthole to gain a clearer view of what's happening outside, earning a grumble of protest from him in the process.

Nami takes a second to control herself before she pushes herself up from her knees. With a curious smile and a raised eyebrow, she takes in Law’s growling presence with ease. “My, my, Law - if we were boring you down there then you should’ve just said something.”

"No, Nami, you're not boring me," he snaps, his voice sharp and clipped. "I’m just trying to get my sword back. Raya’s had her for quite long enough."

Nami's attention flickers to the porthole, her eyes widening when they lock onto a shadowed Raya. For a second, her breath falters, her mouth slightly agape as she stares at the terrified swordsmith. In response, Raya gives a slow, careful shake to her head, mouthing out, “get him away!” to her.

Raya observes with keen interest as the gears of Nami's mind grind into motion, her astute instincts swiftly assessing the unfolding situation.

With a flick of her gaze, Nami pivots around to face Law, her body language a canvas of calculated nonchalance. With an exasperated sigh, she theatrically raises a hand to her face, her eyes wandering lazily to inspect her meticulously manicured nails. Each movement is deliberate, a carefully orchestrated display of indifference designed to mask the quicksilver calculations beneath the surface.

"Of course, Law," Nami replies smoothly, her tone dripping with sarcasm. "Because we all know how much you love to micromanage."

Law's jaw clenches, his frustration evident even underneath the dim light of the moon. But before he can respond, Nami presses on, her voice taking on a note of distraction.

"But since I have you here," she says with a smirk, lifting her beer to her lips for a casual sip, "there's something I've been meaning to ask."

Law's brow arches slightly, his attention still fixed on the closed door as if he could bore a hole through it with his stare. "What is it?" he responds tersely, his tone edged with impatience, his hand poised as if ready to break through the barrier of the workshop's entrance.

Nami's gaze briefly shifts to Raya, a silent exchange passing between them before she presses on with her inquiry.

"I was just wondering," Nami begins, her voice dripping with faux innocence, "if you've had any success in tracking down that peculiar little coin you mentioned a while ago."

Law's expression shifts, a hint of suspicion creeping into his eyes as he turns to fully face Nami.

Nami innocently blinks, her fingers conspicuously toying with a small rounded object in front of her glass.

"What was it called again?" Nami muses. "Thrumble? Fumble? Timble?"

"It's a Triel," Law snaps, irritation evident in every line of his face. He crosses his arms and fixes his gaze on the glinting gold between Nami's fingers. "Is that the coin?"

Raya observes the exchange with bated breath, her muscles tensing as she awaits Nami's next move. Nami's fingers continue to toy with the small object in front of her, her gaze steady as she meets Law's stare head-on.

"Oh, I’m not sure," Nami says casually, her tone light but tinged with mischief, "I’m not a coin connoisseur, so I could be wrong."

A flicker of suspicion crosses Law's features, darkening his expression briefly before he quickly masks it with a neutral facade. "Then I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about," he replies tersely, his tone clipped.

Nami's smile widens, her gaze briefly flickering to Raya before returning to Law. "Well, that's a shame," she says lightly, her tone dripping with sarcasm. She stares dismissively at the golden coin in her fingers. “Might as well throw this in the sea, then.”

"No!" Law's outburst fills the room. Unable to contain himself any longer, he takes a step forward, his eyes fixed on the golden coin in Nami's hand. "Enough, Nami," he says, his voice low but firm. "Give me that."

Nami's smirk widens as she holds the coin just out of Law's reach, clearly enjoying the game she's playing. "Oh, so now you're interested?" she taunts, her tone teasing.

Law's jaw clenches, his patience wearing thin, like a frayed rope about to snap under tension. "Just let me see it," he demands, his voice a low growl as he reaches out to grab the curio from Nami's hand. But Nami, ever the elusive trickster, swiftly dances away, tapping a finger to her chin in mock contemplation. Her other hand extends over the ship's railing, the coin dangling tantalizingly close to the dark, churning waters below, as if mocking Law's futile attempts.

“You know... I think I saw some beautiful jewels back in your ship. It's a shame, really, for those to sink along with this odd little thing..." Nami's smirk widens mischievously, her eyes sparkling with amusement.

Law's irritation bubbles to the surface, his frustration palpable in the air like a storm gathering on the horizon. "Fine," he grits out through clenched teeth, his voice a barely contained snarl. "Take the jewels. Just give me the Triel."

Nami's grin widens into a victorious smirk as she watches Law frown at her, her triumph echoing through the air like the triumphant cry of a victorious pirate queen. With a theatrical flourish, she grabs Law by the arm, her grip firm and unyielding.

"I’ll give it to you after you show me your beauties,” she sings triumphantly, her tone dripping with satisfaction, like a cat who's just caught the canary and is now relishing in its victory.

Without another word, Law turns on his heel and strides towards his broken ship, the weight of defeat heavy on his shoulders. Nami follows closely behind, her steps light and confident, relishing in her victory over the formidable captain.

“Well, I guess I won't be owing Nami any more favors,,” Raya mutters, breathing out in relief. “Looks like Law’s got that covered.”

Zoro, in response, takes a long, deliberate swig of his sake, the liquid burning a path down his throat. His gaze, once piercing and focused, now seems distant, disconnected from the world around him. With a silent, almost resigned sigh, he stumbles towards the stool, his movements uncharacteristically clumsy. Slumping heavily onto the seat, he slings an arm over its headrest, his posture reflecting a weariness that goes beyond mere physical exhaustion.

Zoro turns around to her, an eyebrow raised.

“What else do you needa do, then?” He impatiently grunts, his eyes clouding with indifference. He takes another long swig of his sake, as if attempting to drown out the taste of his own thoughts. “Would be great if I could go back and enjoy the rest of my night.”

Raya's stomach tightens at Zoro's sudden change in behavior. She swallows hard, attempting to quell the rising discomfort that threatens to overwhelm her. Is it surprise? Disappointment? Or perhaps... embarrassment? The thought causes her to bristle with indignation. Get yourself together, Raya.

She forces herself to focus on the task at hand, turning her attention back to the half-mended sword on the table.

"I just need to solder the pieces back together," she replies, her voice steady yet forced. "It's easy work."

Zoro grunts in acknowledgment, his gaze fixed on his sake as if it holds the secrets of the universe. His silence speaks volumes, a barrier between them that neither dares to breach.

The workshop is cloaked in an uneasy silence, broken only by the sizzle of molten metal meeting its counterpart. Raya's fingers move with practiced grace, the golden glow of her pointer finger illuminating the dim surroundings as she meticulously fuses the fractured pieces of Kikoku back together.

The silence in the workshop grows thicker with each passing moment, wrapping around Raya and Zoro like a heavy blanket. It's as if the air itself is charged with tension, crackling with unspoken words and unresolved emotions. Raya can feel the weight of Zoro's gaze on her, but whenever she dares to steal a glance in his direction, he quickly averts his eyes, his expression guarded and inscrutable.

Just as the oppressive silence threatens to suffocate them both, Zoro's sudden movement breaks the spell. He rises from his stool with an abruptness that startles Raya, causing her to jump in her seat. With purposeful strides, he crosses the room and slams a drawing down in front of her.

As Raya examines the drawing, she realizes with a mixture of amusement and disbelief what Zoro has done. Instead of coloring the pirate ship in solid hues, he's filled the entire page with the word "swords" repeated over and over again, each one overlapping the next in a chaotic jumble.

Unable to contain herself, Raya bursts into laughter at the absurdity of it all. Zoro arches an eyebrow at her reaction, a faint smirk playing at the corners of his lips.

"Roronoa…" Raya manages between giggles, her laughter gradually subsiding as she meets his gaze. "You did not just turn a coloring page into a 'swords' manifesto."

“Hey, I coloured inside the lines,” Zoro retorts with a shrug, his smirk widening as he leans against the table. His eyes linger on the glow of Raya's hands as she meticulously mends the sword, a playful glint dancing in his gaze.

As Raya works, Zoro's gaze remains fixed on her, his eyes following the movement of her hands with a curious intensity. Eventually, he breaks the silence with a question that catches Raya off guard.

“Can I ask you something?” he murmurs softly.

With surprise, she looks up, her fingers pausing in the fast-paced momentum of her work. “Yeah?”

Zoro leans over the table as his fingers gently toy with his sake. “Do you ever... regret joining this crew?"

“Oh. I… don’t know,” she whispers. Her eyes remain on the sword in front of her, unwilling to look back at the swordsman. “Being here…it feels like home? In a sense, I guess? But… Every time I see you, it-it just flashes in my head...”

Zoro falls into a heavy silence, unsure of how to respond. His breath catches in his throat, a knot tightening in his chest with each passing moment.

Raya chews on her lips, fidgeting with her tools. “What about you? I know I haven’t… Don’t you sometimes wish I didn’t join the crew?”

Zoro's brow furrows as he considers Raya's question, his gaze flickering between her and the broken sword in front of them. He takes a moment to gather his thoughts, the weight of her words sinking in.

"I won't lie, Tenguyama. I have," he admits, his voice low and measured. "Having you on board has... fucked things up. A lot. It’s been really shit. Like, really—”

“Okay, I think we get it,” Raya interjects, her glare meeting Zoro's with a fiery intensity. Yet, in the tension of the moment, a flicker of amusement passes between them, and before they know it, they're both chuckling softly.

“I get it,” Raya repeats, her voice softer, more earnest this time.

Zoro gazes at her for a long moment, his expression thoughtful. Then, he averts his eyes and clears his throat. “But... still. No, I don't wish you hadn't joined the crew."

Raya's eyebrows shoot up in surprise. "You don't?"

Zoro shakes his head, his tone firm. "No. Despite everything, I think you belong here. You're strong.”

“I know I’m- “

“Yeah, I know you know that, too,” Zoro interrupts, folding his arms across his chest. He hesitates for a second before exhaling deeply. “And... I can’t lie. I might dislike you, but that’s also why I can respect you."

Raya dramatically sighs, as she feigns looking at her nails. “I’m not particularly fond of you, either, you know.”

Zoro offers a ghost of a smile, a rare moment of levity breaking through the tension between them.

"Well, at least we can agree on something," he mutters.

And then, as if summoned by the silence in the air, the workshop is assaulted once more by a furious pounding, the sound reverberating through the space like the thunderous roar of an approaching storm. Each thud sends vibrations coursing through the floorboards, rattling tools and trinkets alike, as if the very foundation of the room quakes with the force of Law's wrath.

Raya's head whips up with such force it threatens to dislodge from her neck. The urgency in Law's knocks jolts her from her reverie, sending a jolt of panic coursing through her veins.

Zoro's brow furrows as he turns to the door, surprise etched across his features. “He’s back already?”

“Raya, I swear to the Gods I will ‘room; myself into your workshop right now.”

The threat in Law's voice sends a shiver down Raya's spine, her heart rate pounding in her ears in response.

“Why hasn’t he done that yet, then?” Zoro mutters under his breath, his eyes narrowing in thought.

“That’s because I got Nami to slip in a few of my sea prism coins in his pockets,” Raya blurts out, her words tumbling out in a rush of desperation.

“Fuck,” she hisses. With trembling hands, she grabs the half-mended sword and frantically looks around for a hiding spot, her mind racing with panic. “Fuckfuck fuckfuckfuck fuck...”

The sound of Nami's voice echoes through the workshop, her urgent pleas mingling with Law's furious demands.

"Law, please," Nami begs, her voice strained with desperation. "You won’t want to see what’s happening in there."

Law's response is a series of loud thuds against the door, each one sending a jolt of fear through Raya's already frayed nerves.

"Raya!" Law's voice booms from the other side of the door, his tone sharp and commanding. "Open this door right now."

"Over there," Zoro instantly says, pointing to the floorboard. "It's our best shot."

Raya nods, relief washing over her as she silently tip toes to the corner and crouches to the floor. But before she can place Kikoku underneath the loosened planks, a sudden surge of power washes over the metal in her hands.

‘Revenge. Revengerevengerevenge Revenge. Revenge,’ It screams through Raya’s skull.

"What?" Raya mumbles in shock, her heart pounding in her chest.

She stares at the sword, her eyes widening as she feels the unmistakable thrum of Kikoku's presence reverberate through her veins. The sword seems to come alive in her hands, vibrating and rattling as if it possesses a will of its own.

And then, to Raya's astonishment, Kikoku begins to hover above her hands, defying gravity like some phantom apparition in the dim light of the workshop.

‘It is time. Itistime’

The sword aims its jagged end right in between her eyebrows, making Raya completely turn to stone.

And it slices.

SHING!

Kikoku doesn't rend skin or vein; it doesn't slice through flesh or muscle. Instead, its edge slices through the fabric of Raya's clothes like a sharp blade through silk, leaving behind a trail of torn fabric in its wake.

"What the bloody FUCK?" Raya's exclamation echoes through the workshop, a mixture of shock and disbelief coloring her tone. Her hair crackles with the static of her rising fury as she stares at Kikoku in sheer astonishment. “Are you being fucking serious right now, Kikoku?”

The shattered pieces of the sword seem to pulse with an otherworldly energy, vibrating with an intensity that sends shivers down her spine, as if they're responding to some unseen force, perhaps the very presence of Law outside the door.

With wide, disbelieving eyes, she lowers her gaze to her clothes, now rent in twain by the sword's inexplicable power. The fabric hangs in tatters around her body, leaving her skin exposed to the chill of the workshop air.

"What’s happening?" Zoro's voice hisses from a distance, carrying a sense of urgency that matches the pounding of Law's footsteps outside.

"I-I don't know," Raya stammers, her hands trembling as she tries to make sense of the inexplicable movement of Kikoku. "Kikoku... she moved on her own."

Zoro's eyes widen in alarm, his swords at the ready as he scans the workshop for any signs of imminent danger. "We need to hide," he commands urgently, his voice barely above a whisper yet filled with authority. "Now."

Raya shakes her head, her gaze unwavering as she meets Zoro's eyes. “I have a better plan. You won’t like it, Roronoa, but it’s our last chance.”

Zoro's jaw clenches, his expression tense with skepticism. "Do it."

Raya acts on instinct, slamming the loosened plank over the hissing Kikoku before hastily making her way to the safety of her work desk. She sits down abruptly, pulling Zoro towards her with a sense of urgency.

“This is so fucking stupid,” she whispers hastily, her breath catching in her throat. Her heart pounds against her ribcage, each beat echoing the urgency of their situation. “So fucking stupid it might actually work.”

Before Zoro can respond to her cryptic statement, she releases the fabric that clings to her body in limp strands, allowing it to slip over her bare shoulders like cascading silk, revealing her skin to the dim light of the workshop. The fabric unravels itself before her chest, revealing the subtle curves beneath.

Zoro stumbles backward, caught off guard by the sudden display, finding himself in between her legs with a mix of shock and bewilderment. His eyes widen, scanning the scene before him, unable to comprehend the sudden turn of events.

“What the fuck are you doing, Tenguyama?” Zoro immediately hisses, his voice laced with disbelief. He looks down to Raya, his gaze momentarily lingering on her exposed form before snapping away, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment. In a futile attempt to regain his composure, he awkwardly snaps his head upwards to the ceiling, as if seeking refuge from the awkwardness that surrounds them.

As the fabric slides from her shoulders, a rush of cool air kisses her skin, prompting a soft gasp to escape her lips. Raya's gaze meets Zoro's, and in that vulnerable moment, she discerns a myriad of emotions flickering across his rugged features.

There's a flash of shock, evident in the widening of his eyes, mingled with a hint of mortification that colors his cheeks with a subtle flush. Confusion knits his brow, adding a layer of complexity to the scene unfolding between them.

Yet, beneath the surface, there's something primal, something untamed stirring within the depths of his gaze— hunger.

She watches as Zoro's gaze flickers, his jaw clenching, his muscles tensing, in a futile attempt to mask the hunger that simmers just beneath the surface.

As the door to the crow’s nest crashes down, the thunderous sound echoing through the chamber, a surge of adrenaline courses through Raya's veins. Without hesitation, she reaches for Zoro, her fingers finding purchase on his neck, pulling him close as if drawn by an invisible force.

In a heartbeat, her bare legs encircle his torso, their bodies now intimately intertwined in a dance of urgency and anticipation.

Zoro's suppressed grunt resonates through the air in response to Raya’s tug, a low rumble that reverberates through her bones. His muscles coil beneath his skin, tense and ready, as he leans in closer to Raya. Their eyes lock in a silent exchange, the space between them charged with anticipation, each heartbeat echoing loudly in their ears.

“Close your eyes,” Raya's voice is a breathy command, laden with urgency and a hint of desperation. “It has to be believable.”

Zoro closes his eyes immediately and presses his forehead against hers. His breaths against her cheeks feel softer than before as his fingers come up to angle her chin to his lips.

He pauses in that spot, soft, plush lips angled up towards lips, his fingers smoothening across the nape of her neck like a sculpture, two brown eyes desperately searching for his.

And there he is, the Surgeon of Death himself, striding purposefully into the workshop as if he owns the place.

But the moment his eyes land on the scene before him, his confident gait comes to an abrupt halt.

Zoro, ever the intimidating presence, looks up from Raya's gaze, his expression a mix of defiance and annoyance as he locks eyes with Law. His fingers remain firmly planted against Raya's jaw, a silent warning to the intruding captain.

"What’s your problem?" Zoro snarls, his tone dripping with disdain as he challenges Law's unexpected interruption.

Law, usually quick with a retort, finds himself at a loss for words. His eyes widen in embarrassment as he takes in the compromising position of his crewmates. He clears his throat awkwardly, his cheeks rushing with incredible heat.

"I-I’m..." he stammers, his voice cracking under the weight of his embarrassment. He gestures wildly with his hands, as if searching for an excuse to flee the scene. "I-"

Zoro raises an eyebrow incredulously, his eyes narrowing even further into menacing slits.

“This room’s occupied,” Zoro spits out. And with his darkening eyes locked on Law, Zoro slightly brushes his lips across the corner of Raya’s mouth, his other hand curving over her waist. “You should go.”

“Yes,” Law quickly shouts out, his face remaining as neutral as possible. “I’m going now. Goodbye.”

And he makes a hasty retreat, practically lunging his entire being outside of the crow’s nest. As the door slams shut behind him, the room is engulfed in a heavy silence, broken only by the faint sound of Law's hasty footsteps echoing down the hallway, leaving behind a lingering sense of awkwardness and disbelief.

And the enveloping silence, Raya still has her arms around Zoro’s neck.

Their breaths mingle with each other, chests heaving with the remnants of panic and surprise. And when Raya finally looks up to Zoro, her breath gets caught up in her throat - because when she sees him, she fails to recognise the man that’s laying in between her legs.

A man with not only softness in his gaze, but of dark hunger.

“Stupid fucking plan,” Zoro grumbles, breaking the silence with a rough exhale that ruffles Raya's hair, his words a harsh echo of their earlier sentiment. The scent of alcohol lingers on his breath, almost making Raya wanting to taste it on her own tongue.

Raya breathes out a sharp laugh, warmth reaching her cheeks. “Worked, didn’t it?”

Zoro falls silent, staring at the girl who has her arms and legs wrapped around him.

He can’t. He can’t do this, he says to himself.

He has to resist it. All of this. He can control himself, of course he can. He’s a fucking swordsman, for Christ’s sake. All he needs to do is pull away and unwrap her bare legs from his torso. All his fingers need to do is to curve over the softness of her thighs and press downwards.

He stares at the infuriating swordsmith entangled in their feigned embrace, his jaw clenching even tighter.

All he needs to do is to pull away and walk it all off.

Her lips. Her eyes. Her skin.

Maybe take a cold shower while he’s at it, too.

Her warmth. Her fire.

And he unravels.

He slams his lips against hers, hungrily moving in sync to her furious gasp. It's not a gentle, tender kiss, no; rather, it's fuelled by bitterness and fury, an eruption of pent-up frustration and overwhelming desire.

With each movement, their mouths clash together like steel against steel.

Zoro's grip on her tightens, his touch bordering on bruising as he seeks to overpower her with the intensity of his desire. His teeth graze against her lips like a warning, a growl rumbling deep in his throat.

Raya meets his aggression with defiance, her own lips pressing back with equal fervour, a silent challenge crossing through her movements. She refuses to yield, matching his every move with a ferocity that borders on reckless abandon, licking his lips with soft, teasing flicks that makes Zoro growl even louder. What a stupid fucking plan.

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firefirefruit · 2 months

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SIVH UPDATE

HELLO HELLO

omg so it’s very busy days for me!! im graduating in a few months and i gotta bust out the best projects i can :0 (i’m designing a VR headset HAHAH save me)

BUT i promise SiHV will be updated very VERY soon - icl i’m kicking my feet and giggling manically typing this out cause the next chapter is gonna be very ………… interesting

THANK YOU for your patience my lovely readers !! <33

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firefirefruit · 2 months

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Steel in Her Veins, Chapter: Twenty-Eight

Read On: AO3 | Table of Contents | Next Chapter

Characters: Fem!Reader x Roronoa Zoro

Chapter Twenty-Eight: Sugar and Spice and Everything… Sooty

Raya races all the way up the ladder, her breath staggering in her lungs like a hellhound set on a bedevilled chase. She leans against the door, lips parting for the sharp and successive breaths to leave her system, her arms firmly curling over the heavy crate of alcohol she’s managed to swipe from the kitchen.

A heavy quake stammers across the surface of the crate, vibrations pulsing through the glass bottles like a fissure ready to spill. Almost unwillingly, she cranes her neck downwards to the mysterious assault, and when she realises the source of the ruckus, her lips fold into a heavy grimace.

Across the surface of the box lies the shattered remnants of Kikoku, humming and shuddering in such a startlingly low pitch, that its voice could raise devil spawn to grace human land.

Fuck, she hisses to herself. What has she gotten herself into?

Through the brown strands of her windswept hair, her eyes pierce down at Roronoa who reluctantly grabs the ladder by his firm hands as he heaves himself forward.

This is all his fault, she thinks to herself - a thought she finds herself repeating more and more often as a source of respite.

“I don’t get what you want me to do,” he grumbles out, a tied bottle of sake dangling from in between his teeth. His feet smoothly trace along the next ledge of the ladder. “I don’t know how to make swords. I don’t know how to -”

“Don’t try to weasel your way out of this, Roronoa. You’re guarding me,” Raya instantly replies, leaning over the high ledge of the crow’s nest. Her eyes briefly scan through the crowd of pirates, impatient fingers fumbling over the bannister like a worried mother.

“Guard?” Zoro immediately bursts into a scoff. He climbs the last ledge with one effortless leap, his boots creaking against the wooden panels of the floor. “You’re actually being serious?”

Raya doesn’t look at him - instead, she squints her eyes even harder, trying to filter through the mass of drunken moving bodies. “Look – he’s there.”

You subtly nudge your head downwards to a certain narrow-eyed pirate’s direction. Thankfully, after begging for Nami’s help to keep him distracted, it seems like he’s actually starting to loosen up. You notice there’s a beer curled within his inked fingers, and every so often he lifts that same bottle up to his lips, liquid pouring into his mouth with a sharp swig.

Into a smiling mouth, to be precise.

Raya gapes at him a little, and despite the hellish circumstance she’s in, a little grin appears on her lips as she takes in his countenance.

He’s actually been smiling for more than two seconds so far – isn’t that some sort of new record for Law or what? Raya thinks to herself.

"Look, he's all tipsy right now," she explains, turning back to face Zoro with a frown reserved only for the likes of him. "But we both know he'll snap out of it soon enough. And when he does, he's going to climb all the way up here and beat both our asses up. You're here to make sure he doesn't catch us off guard."

Zoro stares at her, clearly unimpressed with his designated role. "So, I'm the one who has to deal with his whining while you get to…?"

Raya stares back at him, clearly unimpressed with his reaction. “Roronoa, I’m fixing the goddamn sword you fell on. You guarding me sounds like a walk in the park compared to what I have to do.”

And for a moment, they’re locked in a silent staring contest.

Raya's eyes are narrowed in determination, her gaze like twin laser beams boring into Zoro's skull. She looks like a furious wet cat ready to swipe her paws at the source of her irritation - or maybe more like a stubborn toddler refusing to back down from a standoff with a particularly dead statue.

Zoro, on the other hand, looks like he’s trying to channel his inner rock, his expression stony and unyielding. But there’s a twitch in his eyebrow, a hint of something dancing in his eyes, as if he’s secretly enjoying this absurd standoff with her.

But just when it seems like the silence might go on forever, a small, involuntary twitch at the corner of Zoro's mouth gives him away. Raya catches it immediately and can’t help but smirk triumphantly, knowing she’s won this round.

"Glad you agree," she replies, her voice laced with sarcasm. She throws him a bottle of beer, flipping her hair in his face.

With an irritated grunt and a shuffle away, Zoro instinctively catches the bottle and takes a long swig, his gaze fixed on Law as he monitors his movements. For a while, the two of them stand in silence, the only sounds being the distant ruckus of music and voices and the gentle creaking of the ship blending beneath them.

“Whatever. Let’s go inside before he sees us fucking around up here,” he murmurs. And with a swift spin and snatch, the crates of clinking alcohol disappear from Raya’s arms and into the swordsman’s. While he casually strides into the crow’s nest. Raya remains standing there blinking stupidly, completely taken off guard by his quick-handed thievery.

With that, the realisation rises, a growl set on her face as she stomps after Zoro, hot on his heels.

“Don’t forget we’re sharing those!” she hisses.

In response, the swordsman rolls his eyes but doesn't protest, knowing that arguing with Raya will only prolong their time on deck where they risk being spotted by Law. He sets the crates down with a thud, and they both settle into a comfortable silence as they crack open the bottles and down their drinks.

Zoro’s expression is unreadable as he surveys the mess before him. "So, what's the plan?" he asks, his voice gruff but curious.

Raya sighs, running a hand through her thick hair as she tries to gather her thoughts. "First, I need to assess the damage," she says, leaning her elbows over the table above the broken sword. "Then… I guess I’ll get cooking…"

Zoro nods, leaning on the table beside her as he examines the poor mess of Kikoku. The once formidable blade lies in pieces before them, the jagged edges reflecting the dim light of the lanterns overhead.

"Well, it's definitely broken," Zoro says straight-faced.

"Thanks for that insightful observation," Raya snaps, reaching for one of the broken pieces of the sword. “Really, what would I do without your thought-provoking commentary, Roronoa?”

“Well, what else am I supposed to do?” He retorts, laying lazily against one of her stools. “I’m trapped in here, doing fuck-all.”

Raya looks at him indifferently and shrugs. “Sleep?”

“I’m not tired, I’m bored.”

Raya smirks, a sudden mischievous glint appearing in her eyes. Whatever idea she’s cooked up is getting her excited, with the way her teeth are gleaming in their full glory.

"Weeeell, lucky for you, I've got just the thing to cure your boredom," she says, reaching under the table and pulling out a tattered colouring book and a handful of crayons. She sets them on the table in front of Zoro with a playful grin. "Try this. I'm sure Chopper won't mind if you borrow it for a bit."

Zoro eyes the colouring supplies sceptically, his brow furrowing in disbelief. "You've got to be kidding me," he mutters, picking up one of the crayons and turning it over in his hand. Raya offers him a shit-eating grin when he raises an eyebrow at her.

"Come on, it'll be fun!" she urges, nudging the colouring book closer to him, repeatedly pushing it into his elbow like prodding a wad of lettuce on a stick to an unimpressed tiger. "And who knows, maybe you'll discover a hidden passion for art."

Zoro hesitates for a moment, then sighs dejectedly and takes the crayon, flipping open the colouring book to a random page.

"You’re gonna be the end of me," he mutters, leaning back in his chair and starting to colour in a picture of a pirate ship.

Raya watches with amusement as Zoro tentatively starts colouring - his movements, cautious at first before he gradually gains confidence, his strokes becoming bolder and more deliberate. She can't help but snicker at the sight, finding it oddly endearing to see the idiot swordsman engaging in such a seemingly childish activity.

For a while, they work in companionable silence, the only sounds being the scratching of crayons against paper, the clinking of metal and the occasional chug of beer as they take breaks to de-sober themselves. Raya finds herself relaxing as she focuses on the task at hand, the tension of the earlier confrontation with Law fading into the background.

But as they work, she can't shake the feeling of Kikoku's presence beside her, the broken pieces of the sword humming with a furious energy that seems to seep into the air around them. Raya glances at the shattered remains of the once formidable blade, a frown tugging at her lips as she tries to make sense of the strange sensation.

Kikoku seems to be muttering to her, the fragments of the sword vibrating with an intensity that sends a shiver down Raya's spine. She strains to make out the words, but they're muffled and indistinct like whispers carried on the wind.

"Kikoku, what are you saying?" Raya murmurs, reaching out to touch one of the broken pieces of the sword.

In immediate response, Kikoku screeches from underneath her fingertips, making Raya flinch her hand away in shock.

‘What do you fucking think, you incompetent excuse of a human being?’ It screams in Raya’s head, rattling her very bones in her body.

Raya clenches her teeth, anxiously running a hand through her hair. "I’m sorry, Kikoku. I really am. I don’t know how it all… If you let me, I promise I’ll be able to fix you."

Kikoku hums angrily in response, the vibrations of her broken body resonating against the desk. It swirls around on the wooden surface, almost trying to will itself to spiral around into a flurry of blades.

‘Not enough. I seek for revenge. Not enough. Not enough.’

"Kikoku, please," Raya pleads softly, her voice laced with desperation. "I understand that you're angry, but I can fix you. Let me help you.”

Again, the sword vibrates with an almost manic energy, its broken edges glinting ominously in the dim light of the lanterns.

"I’ll find a way to make things even, I promise," Raya continues, her voice tinged with determination. "But for now, I have to focus on fixing you. Once you're whole again, we can figure out what to do next."

‘What are you planning, human?’ she spits, her voice sharp and demanding. ‘Let me listen to your pathetic attempt at salvaging my trust.’

The swordsmith takes a deep breath, steeling herself for what comes next. "First, I need to assess the extent of your damage," she says, reaching for another piece of the broken sword. "Then, I'll figure out a way to repair you. And if that's not enough... well, we'll cross that bridge when we come to it."

Kikoku's response was a begrudging silence, the vibrations of her broken pieces slowly starting to calm. Raya took it as a small victory, a glimmer of hope in the midst of uncertainty.

Raya offers a tentative smile to the sword. “I won’t let you down.”

Hours pass in a blur as Raya meticulously fits the broken pieces of Kikoku back together, her hands steady despite the weight of the task. It's slow progress, but with each piece she adds, she can feel Kikoku's energy shifting, becoming less volatile and more... resigned.

"I'm sorry," Zoro blurts out suddenly, the words tumbling from his lips before he can stop them, his voice slightly slurred from the amount of alcohol in his system.

Raya’s head snaps up, surprise flickering in her eyes as she meets Zoro’s gaze. Her fingers pause in the momentum of her work, work now being the last thing on her mind.

"I… For what?" She mutters out.

Zoro leans over the table, his fingers gently spinning the bottle around in his hands.

"For...for breaking the sword," Zoro admits, his voice tinged with regret. "I didn't mean to...I mean, I know that doesn't excuse what happened, but I just...I'm sorry."

Raya pauses, taken aback by the unexpected apology. She stares at Zoro, seeing the sincerity in his eyes despite the haze of alcohol clouding his judgment.

His lone grey eye remains steadfast on her, and although he tries his best to mask himself into indifference, a flicker of something breaks through when Raya really looks at him with her soft brown eyes.

Something breaks within him – or more so, something loosens up within him, and his control over himself - albeit hanging on by fragile and intoxicated threads - has finally been torn apart.

Raya doesn’t know why, but her breath catches in her throat when he does this. When he really looks at her. With that grey eye, intense and relentless with feeling.

In a panic, she immediately disengages from the stare and looks down to her lap, one hand fumbling with a hammer, the other shrouded in a red-hot flame for blade-tempering.

For a moment, silence envelops them, broken only by the faint sound of their breathing and the occasional crackle of flames from Raya's hand. She's not used to hearing such sincerity from him, especially not when it comes to admitting fault. It catches her off guard, leaving her at a loss for how to respond… and now, she doesn’t know what to do.

Instead, she focuses on the task at hand, the broken pieces of Kikoku spread out before her like a jigsaw puzzle waiting to be solved. She takes a deep breath, trying to steady her hands as she reaches for another piece of the sword.

"It's... I know, Roronoa," Raya finally manages to say, her voice barely above a whisper. She can feel the warmth of Zoro's gaze on her, his silent offer of forgiveness hanging in the air.

Raya can’t control it any longer. She has to look up at him again, and when she does, her warm brown eyes latch onto his enraptured gaze with such ease, with such naturalness.

And then, Zoro’s stare softens.

Raya doesn’t even recognise this… look on the swordsman, this out-of-place soft glint that consumes his face, like he’s finally uncoiled his hands from the tight reins of his self-restraint.

Zoro doesn’t know what else there is to say. He doesn’t know how he’s supposed to feel at this moment, either. But in his drunken courage, his hand acts out of its own will, lifting up and away from his bottle as his eyes flicker down to her mouth.

Raya’s breath halts as she remains still. Her own senses have vanished away, along with her train of thoughts, and all she wants to do is to lean into his hand.

And they do. Zoro’s fingers press against her jaw, deftly lifting her chin up. He makes her stare straight at him with no room to escape. And Raya is completely breathless. She gives in to the pressure of his fingers, blinking at him curiously, observing the all-consuming focus on his face. His eye flickers down from her gaze to her mouth, his thumb laying idly only a few millimetres away from her skin.

And with no thought in those eyes, his thumb reaches and presses to the corner of her lips, swiping in one circular movement. For a moment, Raya’s lost in the intensity of Zoro's gaze, the heat of his touch lingering on her skin like a brand.

A subtle breath releases from his lips when he touches the corner of her mouth.

He moves his thumb again, unsatisfied with the singular touch, now placing it ever-so softly over Raya’s lips. He looks at her in the eyes, his gaze darkening and unwavering, as he brushes his thumb over her mouth, parting them ever so slightly, so softly, so slowly.

But then, as quickly as it came, the moment passes. Zoro pulls away, his expression once again hardened into a mask of indifference. He picks up his bottle, taking a long swig of sake as if to wash away the lingering traces of emotion.

He shows his thumb to you, a layer of dark black powder coating his skin.

“You had soot on your face,” he mutters out roughly.

Raya blinks in surprise, her heart pounding in her chest as she processes what just happened. She can still feel the lingering warmth of Zoro's touch on her lips, the ghost of his thumb brushing against her skin, the heat of his breath hitting her skin.

And for a moment, she's at a loss for words, her mind reeling from the unexpected intimacy of the gesture. She looks up at Zoro, her gaze searching his face for any sign of what he might be feeling, but Zoro's expression remains impassive. His eye remains unreadable as he wipes the soot from his thumb with a nonchalant air - it's as if the moment never happened, as if he's already moved on from whatever fleeting emotion prompted his actions.

She swallows hard, trying to push down the heat that surges within her. She knows that she should say something, to retort back with a typical Raya joke or simply say something really sarcastic, but all of the tricks in her conversational mind die right at the tip of her tongue, right at the entrance of where his fingers were laying against only a few moments ago.

But before she can do anything – to recover any tiny piece of dignity that still remains within her, a sudden crash from outside the crow's nest shatters the moment, sending them both scrambling to the porthole with hushed breaths.

As they silently peer into the window, they’re met with the sight of Law stumbling towards the door, his movements erratic and unsteady, a wild look in his eyes.

"Shit," Raya curses under her breath, her heart pounding in her chest. "He’s early."

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firefirefruit · 2 months

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Steel in Her Veins, Chapter: Twenty-Seven

Read On: AO3 | Table of Contents | Next Chapter

Characters: Fem!Reader x Roronoa Zoro

Chapter Twenty-Seven: Alcohol. Love It or Hate It.

“Keee-kohh-kuuu,” you sing out loud, wriggling on a mattress you’ve managed to slug away from the front of the Sunny to the back – of course, it wasn’t an easy feat, what with having to shoo a stringy Luffy off its surface. But with an evil grin and a few deft fingers, you managed to throw the mattress spinning in the air, peeling your captain off it like a sticky toy.

He fell flat on his face, his body only a rubbery plane of thin paper, and with a grinning “Good game, Captain!” you patted him on his squashed shoulder as you pranced away from the hubbub of the festivities.

You kick your legs in the air, your belly pressing against the feeling of sweet victory of softness. Although your body springs softly upwards in response, your fingers are anything but reckless as they fumble over Law’s prized possession.

‘Kikoku.’ A voice hisses in your head, clearly aggravated by the dizzying display of your giddiness. ‘If you’re trying to talk to me, then at least get my name right.’

“Ah, sorry…” your lips sheepishly form into a crazy grin from behind the beer bottle that rests against them. Meanwhile, you distractedly shuffle over and peer over the wall, observing the chaos of celebrations.

The party doesn’t seem to be slowing down by any means – and that makes your muscles unconsciously dig deeper into the mattress. You needed this – a break from real life, to drink and nerd out with your best friends... Your swords.

And you couldn’t be more thankful to Luffy for coming up with the idea. To Luffy, it seemed perfectly natural to hold a mattress party – to Luffy, Law and his crew taking refuge on the Sunny equated to having a never-ending slumber party with his friends.

This party isn't being thrown only because he’s formed yet another alliance with Torao, no. Moreso, it was managing to hold him and his crew hostage, indefinitely, on his ship, that Luffy felt was definitely something worth celebrating.

“Shut up, Mugiwara. We’re not friends!” Law had bitingly snapped back, glaring at the toast Luffy had just made on welcoming the new crew members aboard the Sunny.

Regardless, the rest of Trafalgar’s crew roared consumingly after Luffy’s toast, throwing him in the air like some sort of prophet, and, somehow, you had a slight inkling it was because of the alcohol they were downing like water. With a stubborn growl, Law immediately jumped into his crew and took care of that, as expected... Or, well, at least he tried to before his own crew grabbed him by his arms and dragged him into the centre of the noise.

Franky and Usopp did their absolute godsent best at decorating, as always. With hundreds of mattresses sprawling across every breathable space, you can’t even manage to see the wooden planks of the deck that rests underneath them. Nami brought her fluffiest pillows and Robin, her thickest blankets, and with a copious amount of candles and fairy lights you’d scrounged around in your storage, the whole place looked like an evening none of you’d ever forget.

And trust me, you'll notedly never forget this one.

Brook lays casually like a lounging cat across a mattress, strumming his bones thoughtlessly across his guitar with one of his newest melodies. You and Nami start downing shots, competing with each other’s tolerances as Robin smiles widely behind a glass of wine.

And later on, something unexpected happens. Law comes stumbling and tripping over the springing ground towards you, his face scrambled with overcoming embarrassment, with Kikoku hanging in your face. You gape at him in surprise.

He rolls his eyes, his arm unwavering. Somehow, he knew you hadn’t been able to have time to really inspect her, what with…circumstances eating up at your delicious time. True to his word and refusing to owe debts to anyone, he gifts her to you with a pointed warning flashing in his eyes and a slight twist of his lips.

And you…well you’re quite fantastically drunk right now.

‘How impetuous. How dare my wielder offer my body to the likes of you,’ Kikoku snaps, the metal humming furiously in your fingers. You raise an eyebrow and snap your neck down to the sword.

“I’ll have you know, you’ll never be wielded by someone like me again,” you mutter, taking a large swig of your beer. “Don’t come complaining to me when you’re all broken after battle.”

A raucous laughter erupts from the other end of the deck, drawing your attention away from your conversation with the sword. You spot Bepo attempting to teach Chopper how to fold his small arms into a heart, while Law and Sanji engage in a heated argument over who can cook the best barbecue.

You stroke the blade affectionately, relishing in the way it vibrates with energy beneath your touch, and despite Kikoku's protests, you can sense a begrudging acceptance of your presence from the sword.

“Tell me, what’s your wielder like?” You ask softly, rolling around so that your back lays against the mattress.

Kikoku hums sharply in the resemblance of a human scoff. ‘What do you think? He’s worthy to wield me.’

“Gods, deflate your ego at once or I’ll start adoringly calling you Kiki,” you smile, a devilish grin stretching across your cheeks.

Kikoku emits a low, disgruntled hum, clearly unamused by your joke.

‘You may jest, but my wielder is a formidable warrior,’ it retorts with a hint of pride seeping into its tone.

You chuckle, taking another swig of your beer before setting the bottle down beside you. "I don't doubt it," you concede, feeling a strange sense of excitement for the sentient blade. "But tell me, what's he like when he's not swinging you around in battle?"

Kikoku emits a low, contemplative hum as if considering your question carefully. “I… admire him. Burdens weigh on his heart - a lot of them. And he may not know this, but I have vowed to protect him until death parts us.’

You almost choke on the alcohol in your mouth, eyes brimming wide in shock. “You willingly protect him? Isn’t that, like… suicide in the sword realm?”

Kikoku hums in affirmation. ‘I must admit, I have not been as giving to my previous wielders as I am now. Before, I demanded to be protected. To be kept safe amidst battle - as would any other sword, with any other wielder. But with Law…well, he is worthy. He needs me.”

"He's lucky to have you," you murmur, a newfound respect for the swordsman blossoming within you. "And you're lucky to have him."

The metal vibrates softly in your hand. 'Indeed, we make quite the pair.'

And then, you hear heavy footsteps.

RORONOA ZORO

Zoro’s drinking. A lot.

A lot more than usual, actually. More than his already high tolerance can surprisingly handle.

But really, can you blame him?

Look, he knows this. Guilt and alcohol don’t mix well – and, normally, Zoro wouldn’t disagree. Being a swordsman meant being in control of your feelings, of the way you present yourself to yourself, of staying still and accepting the thoughts that come and go like a soft breeze that passes through hanging leaves.

But this time, he couldn’t reign it in. He couldn’t keep himself under control. And so he drank – he drank until his jug went dry, and then some more.

Anything to release the convulsing storm in his muscles, the tension in his brain. The thoughts of guilt and grief and swords and the swordsmith and the swordswoman and…

“Oi Zoro! Where ya goin’?” Luffy shouts from a few metres away, his eyes brimming with an unquenchable light amidst the dark sea. “Can I come?”

Zoro waves him off, a few fingers loosening from the jug of his sake. “Need to walk a bit. I’ll be back.”

Luffy stares at him, silently taking in his first mate, a resigned purse of his lips affirming his observation.

I’ve got you, Luffy’s eyes say as they meaningfully squint in a smile. All ya gotta do is ask.

Zoro huffs out a short breath and nods. His captain really is something, isn’t he?

And with a spin on his heels, Zoro slips away from the buzz of the party.

As he trudges along the deck of the Sunny, the weight of his heavy eyelids threatens to drag him into the depths of sleep – but, somehow, he fights against it, knowing that the demons lurking in the recesses of his mind will only torment him further in his dreams.

Each step feels like an eternity as he weaves his way through the maze of mattresses and bodies strewn across the deck. His muscles ache with fatigue, protesting against the relentless march of time and the burdens he carries upon his shoulders.

The alcohol coursing through his veins offers little respite, its numbing effects doing little to ease the turmoil within him; instead, it serves only to cloud his thoughts further, blurring the line between reality and the haunting memories that plague him. The rhythmic sway of the ship beneath his feet threatens to send him toppling overboard at any moment, but Zoro presses on, driven by a primal instinct to escape the suffocating confines of his own mind.

And then, like a spectre rising from the shadows, a stray mattress materializes before him, its presence a cruel reminder of the shitty obstacles that are always thrown in his path. He tries to manoeuvre around it, but his coordination’s too impaired by the haze of alcohol and exhaustion.

With a sudden jolt, he finds himself hurtling forward, his body careening uncontrollably towards an unseen obstacle. His heart lurches in his chest as he braces for impact, his mind racing with thoughts of surprise and confusion.

And then it happens.

KOZUKI RAYA

In an instant, time seems to slow as Zoro's body careens toward you, his form hurtling through the air like a falling boulder. With a gasp of shock, you brace yourself for the impact, instinctively raising your arms to shield yourself from the impending collision. But as Zoro slams into you with unexpected force, the realization of what happens strikes you like a bolt of lightning.

With a sickening crunch, the blade snaps in half, the sound echoing like a gunshot in the still night air

Kikoku.

For a moment, there is silence as you lay stunned on the ground, the weight of what has just happened sinking in like a heavy stone. You stare at the broken sword in disbelief, your mind racing as you try to comprehend the magnitude of the damage.

Kikoku, Law's prized possession, lies broken at your feet, its once formidable form now reduced to two jagged pieces. Panic grips you as you stare down at the shattered remains, the weight of what has transpired hitting you like a physical blow.

"Oh, fuck," you gasp, your voice barely a whisper as you reach out to touch the shattered remains of Kikoku.

As Zoro staggers back to his feet, his eyes widen in shock as he takes in the scene before him. His gaze flickers from the broken pieces of Kikoku to your stunned expression, and a string of curses escapes his lips.

"What the hell did you do?" he growls, his voice thick with disbelief and anger as he glares down at you.

You bristle at his accusatory tone, your own frustration bubbling to the surface as you shoot him a glare of your own.

"Me? What about you, stumbling around like a drunken bull?" you snap back, your voice sharp with irritation.

"Shut up. This is your fault," he seethes, his voice low and dangerous as he gestures towards the broken sword.

“Last time I checked, you were the one tripping over your own feet," you retort, your tone dripping with disdain.

Zoro's nostrils flare with anger, his eyes flashing dangerously as he takes a menacing step forward. "Watch your mouth," he growls, his voice low and threatening.

“Watch your feet,” you retort.

Zoro rolls his eyes, taking a huge swig of his sake. With a tired exhale, he rests himself against the banister, observing you sprawled over Kikoku like some sort of distraught mother. "S'not like you can't fix it," he mutters tipsily, his breath splintering against the cool air.

And that literally makes you growl.

You snap your neck upwards, pushing yourself up from the ground as you stumble towards Zoro.

"Fix it? In less than – what – a day?" You snap, getting in his face. You throw your finger in the direction of the sword. "Do you have any idea how difficult it is to repair a sword like Kikoku?"

Zoro's growls impatiently, his jaw clenching. "You know that's not what I mean, woman."

You take a deep breath, trying to reign in your frustration as you survey the damage before you. The broken pieces of Kikoku lay scattered on the ground, the once formidable blade now reduced to a jagged mess.

"I'll need a miracle to pull this off," you mutter. Your gaze hardens as you turn to face Zoro. "And you, Roronoa, are going to help me make it happen."

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firefirefruit · 2 months

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Steel in Her Veins, Chapter: Twenty-Six

Read On: AO3 | Table of Contents | Next Chapter

Characters: Fem!Reader x Roronoa Zoro

Chapter Twenty-Six: Simple. Practical. Easy

Zoro doesn’t know how to deal with all of…this.

Really – he may be many things, but dealing with…feelings is simply not his forte. Nor when he has to talk things out. And, God save him, when he’s given the task to comfort others.

Zoro silently rests himself on one of Raya’s stools, standing on the precipice of not knowing whether he should leave, but not quite wanting to just yet. He flips the beautifully crafted Enma between his fingers, a soft frown set on his lips.

With swords…well, you don’t really need to do all of that. You don’t gotta bare your soul to it. To comfort it and tell it everything’s going to be okay. To apologise sincerely and express your own grief.

After all, in Zoro’s opinion, a sword is just a sword. You swing, you slice, you offer gratitude to it, and it’s a job done.

Zoro knows, that if Raya was here, she would’ve adamantly disagreed with that logic. She would’ve said something about how swords have souls, and that they understand the complexities of human feelings as much as we do. For a split second, Zoro takes an odd solace in that thought, his fingers fumbling over Raya’s lovingly wrapped leather over the hilt of his sword.

But after a paused moment, realisation flickers across the samurai’s face. He looks away from the humming Enma, helplessly turning his head around within the empty workshop. Out of all things, he’s thinking about what she thinks? He kisses his teeth. Some resolve he has.

See, swords don’t make him feel like this. They don’t hurt his head or press heavily against his chest with no way of escape. They lift, they slice and they charge onwards, tongue constantly sharpening for their next foe.

Swords don’t scream. Swords don’t cry or grieve or burst into flames when a tragedy occurs. They don’t hiss or give you the silent treatment, either.

Swords don't have skin, where inked fingers can trace over its body so delicately, so intimately, that it feels like Zoro’s accidentally intruded in on a forbidden moment. Swords don’t sarcastically wave at him from a distance, either, and flick a switch upwards to keep his watchful eye away.

And eyes. Swords don’t have eyes. They don’t have eyes, brim with fire he’s never experienced before. With grit and hatred that pools suffocatingly around his presence. They don’t show their wonder and curiosity and wisdom through the use of pupils, nor does their quick-wittedness or sharpness translate through the use of looking.

Only through metal and a sharpening stone do they offer their most acceptable use.

And on that thought, nor do they have lips – soft, plump ones that fold underneath a little appearance of teeth, deeply thinking, considering a problem that secretly renders them anxious. The only tell of their discomfort being of their pulled-in lips and softly chewing teeth.

They don’t cry. They don’t have the power to spin their own bodies around like a threatening whip, broken words unfolding at the tip of their tongue, tears pooling up in shells that do their best to keep them at bay. They don’t make him feel…

They don’t make him feel…

Well, how did he actually feel?

The looming samurai shakes his head with a grunt, running a hand through his tousled hair.

No. Fuck feelings. He doesn’t need those.

All Zoro knows is that his chest felt tight and his breath rendered shallow after he bore witness to those stinging words.

And unlike some people, swords don’t withhold their thoughts or feelings. They're always straightforward and honest, without any reservations towards Zoro, and they most certainly do not prefer to disclose their inner secrets to the Surgeon of Death over the likes of him.

Swords are swords. They’re simple. They’re practical. They’re easy.

But this…

Whatever’s churning around in his stomach, whatever’s making his heart stutteringly displace its beats…

Well, he hasn’t felt this way since…

He clenches his jaw, the muscles of his neck tensing. His eyes flicker to the Wado Ichimonji, its broken shards nestling within a makeshift cocoon of a dark blue blanket.

He hasn’t felt this way since Kuina’s death.

Zoro raises his eyebrows. Is that was this feeling is? Is it grief? Is he grieving over the old man the way he grieved for Kuina?

Or is it guilt? The guilt of standing there and watching him and doing fuck all.

No, Raya was right. There's no honour in spectating, in standing by while someone else suffers. And yet, that's exactly what he did when she needed him the most.

The weight of his inaction settles heavily on his shoulders, a burden he's carried with him for far too long. He thought he had buried those feelings deep down, thought he had moved on from the guilt and regret that had haunted him since Kuina's death. But now, staring at the shattered remains of her, he realizes that they were never truly gone.

He reaches out a trembling hand to touch the Wado Ichimonji, his fingers tracing the familiar contours of the broken blade. Memories flood his mind, memories of a time when he was young and foolish, when he believed that strength alone could conquer any obstacle.

What would Kuina think if she could see him now? Would she be proud of the man he's become, or would she be disappointed by his failures?

The thought gnaws at him, twisting like a knife in his gut. He can almost hear her voice, sharp and cutting, chastising him for his weakness, for his inability to protect those he cares about.

Zoro squeezes his eyes shut, trying to block out the memories, but they refuse to be silenced. They taunt him, torment him, reminding him of his shortcomings, of his failures.

If it were Kuina instead of Sukiyaki in that moment, would he have ignored her honour code? Would he have furiously snapped at her to shut up and to let him fight? Would he have saved her regardless, and interfered with her martyred resolve?

Zoro holds his breath.

Yes. The simple answer would be yes. He would have.

Zoro's heart twists with the weight of his realization. He knows, deep down, that if it were Kuina in that moment instead of Sukiyaki, he would have acted without hesitation. He would have thrown himself into the fray, risking everything to save her, consequences be damned.

But Sukiyaki was not Kuina, and Zoro's loyalty to the samurai code had bound him in place, like chains forged from honour and duty. It's a bitter truth to swallow, knowing that his commitment to honour had cost him the opportunity to intervene and potentially save someone's life.

The echo of Kuina's voice rings in his ears, her words a cutting reminder of his perceived weakness. She would have scolded him for his failure to live up to the ideals they had both cherished, for his inability to protect those in need. And as the weight of her disappointment settles upon him like a suffocating blanket, Zoro can't help but feel the crushing weight of his own inadequacy.

And amidst the pain and the guilt, there's a sense of profound loneliness that threatens to consume him whole. He is adrift in a sea of his own making, lost in the depths of his own despair.

A shuffle of heavy feet burrows its way into the heel of the workshop, a long shadow dancing through the soft splinters of candlelight. There’s a heavy silence, and Zoro, for a second, doesn’t want to turn around. His chest tightens once more, teeth clenching hard together.

Is it Raya? It must be. But is he even able to face her right now?

He doesn’t know. Most of all – he doesn’t want to. Because right now, he’s not ready.

He sits on the stool, hands firmly gripping over the one and only thing that offers him a modicum of comfort. His sword. So practical. So easy. So simple.

“Zoro-ya?” A male voice reverberates within the fragile air. Zoro hears him advance a few steps further, and he can just feel the questioning expression of the man behind him - one eyebrow raised, a pair of dark eyes narrowing, arms tucking comfortably together.

Law’s voice interferes with the silence once more, his voice louder, and a lot closer now. Zoro, still, does not turn around. Simply, he does not want to.

“What are you doing here?” Law asks.

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firefirefruit · 2 months

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Steel in Her Veins, Chapter: Twenty-Five

Read On: AO3 | Table of Contents | Next Chapter

Characters: Fem!Reader x Roronoa Zoro

Chapter Twenty-Five: One More Sword

His eye remains on you. It always remains on you. Even as he pushes his foot down against the floor, leaning on only one stool leg. Even as his slender, yet firm, fingers fumble in between the folds of his towel, delicately drying each knuckle with a tender swivel. Even as he rewraps his bandana over his bare skin, muscles rippling underneath a layer of fresh perspiration. He claims the hand-crafted stool as his own, widely parting his legs as if the seat was crafted specifically for him.

With a languid stretch, he leans towards you, his soft breaths brushing against your cheeks like a threatening greeting. His arm, adorned with sweat and scars, snakes over and around your waist, his fingers brushing against the wooden desk beside you.

He slams his towel onto it with a resounding thud.

Without retreating, his face hovers over incredibly close to yours. The hot breaths that trace across your skin feel feral - primal, almost - filled with hard-headed demands and silent, creeping wants.

"You’re telling me everything,” he whispers, his voice a low growl that reverberates through the air.

Instantly, your fingers clench tightly over the edges of your seat. Swallowing hard, you look at anywhere but at his lips - at his cruel frown that rests upon his mouth so deliciously, so naturally curved downwards like a snarling animal. No. You're not looking at them. Instead, you pierce your eyes back into the samurai's watchful gaze, battling your will against his, and strain a fake smirk across your lips.

Then, you part them.

"And what if I don't?"

In immediate response, Zoro's own lips curl into a half-smirk, half-snarl, his eyes narrowing into dangerous slits. He shakes his head slowly, his eye never leaving yours. "S'not an option for you. You've been hiding something. Keeping something from us."

His eye flickers down to your arm and then back up to you. “Frankly, I just don’t trust you.”

That makes you sharply exhale - a precise and deadly huff of bitterness. Your palm reaches out for his wet chest, splaying your fingers out across his skin. And with one motion, you shove him a few steps away.

“Roronoa,” you tut, your palm still lingering over him. “Remind me, when have I ever cared about earning your trust?”

Zoro's gaze darkens at your bold response, his muscles tensing beneath your touch. His jaw clenches, a silent warning flashing in his eyes as he takes a step closer, closing the distance you've created between you.

"Don't play games with me," he warns dangerously. "I can see right through you. And you're going to tell me everything."

“I’m playing games?” You raise an eyebrow, snarling your words out like a growling demon, your fangs bared over your lips in bewilderment. “Weren’t you the one who kept losing your grip on your weights? At only… was it your second, or your third rep? No… now that I think back on it, I don’t think you even did one.”

Zoro's expression tightens, his gaze burning with a mixture of irritation and defiance at your pointed accusation. His jaw clenches visibly, the muscles in his neck tensing as he struggles to maintain his composure under your scrutiny.

"Don't try to distract me," he growls, his voice low and gravelly, each word laden with barely contained frustration.

And you grin a little. You're relishing in it, you can't lie - you've finally managed to get under his skin.

"Who's distracting who, Roronoa?" you retort, your tone dripping with sarcasm. "You were the one who couldn't handle Law's presence without losing your focus."

"Watch yourself." His eye narrows dangerously, a flicker of anger flashing in its depths as he takes a step closer, his hot, quick-paced breaths looming over your mouth like a warm cloud of thunder.

You innocently cock your head. "Or what? You'll lose your grip again?"

Zoro's nostrils flare with frustration, his grip tightening over the edge of your desk, his hand laying so close to the skin at your waist.

"You think you're clever, don't you?"

“For God's -- No, Roronoa. I’m protecting myself!” you snap. “I’m allowed to tell other people the things I don't feel like telling you. Fucks' sake, I’m allowed to have my own secrets! To have my boundaries!”

"Secrets breed mistrust," he retorts, his voice edged with a hint of resignation. "And mistrust breeds discord."

"Oh, spare me the moral lessons, Roronoa. You're not exactly a paragon of trustworthiness yourself – or would you like for us to revisit that matter again?"

“God fucking damn it!” he exclaims, his voice coming out strained as he continues choking on his intoxicating fury. He swivels himself away from you, his body acting as a boulder for his unrestrained feelings, his muscles moving in motion to the aggressive breaths that he's taking. His fingers are strained tightly into a scrunched up fist, the bulging veins through his arms coursing with a different type of adrenaline that he's normally used to. “When the fuck are you going to stop hanging that over my head, Raya? When are you going to fucking understand that I couldn’t. Do. Anything?”

Your heart stops for a second. The breath in your throat dissipates into some other vortex, the world slightly spinning under your feet like rolling a pair of tabletop die.

You realise that this is the first time he's ever acknowledged you by your first name.

"Raya."

It's as if the world around you pauses, every sound muffled, every sensation heightened. His voice saying your name feels like a revelation, a seismic shift in the dynamics between you, a crack in the stoic facade he's always maintained.

You swallow, trying to compose yourself and steady your wobbling vocal cords. It's not just the sound of your name on his lips that affects you—it's the way he says it, the weight behind the syllables, the depth of emotion that you can hear in his tone.

"Raya."

You struggle to find your voice, to articulate the whirlwind of emotions swirling within you. His gaze, intense and penetrating, holds you captive, as if he's searching for something in your eyes, something you're not even sure how to name.

"Your or my Gramps' samurai honour means nothing to me... You know what does?”

Your voice is barely a whisper, barely audible over the pounding of your heart - but you say the words with conviction, with a newfound sense of clarity.

And in this moment, all the pretences fall away, leaving behind only the brutality of your anger. Your ground your teeth into dust, heat rushing through your skin like an unquenchable storm of fire.

“Life. Living. Being aware that the entire balance of one person’s fate rests within your control. And doing something about it. But you? You didn’t do anything. To me, that’s not honour, no.” You shake your head, tears glossing over your eyes as you furiously try to blink them away. God, if only you could singe those feelings away from your soul, you would. You'd do it a hundred times over if it meant you'd become stronger.

You part your mouth again, your lips quivering with no rhyme or reason - with no sense of the word, 'control.'

“That’s idiocy. That’s unforgivable. That… broke me." Your voice wavers. "And I resent you for it."

And there it is.

The truth.

You finally admitted it, said out loud - not to him. But more to yourself.

That's the truth. You're angry because you're hurt. No - you're angry that he even had that power to begin with. You're angry with yourself, too, for not being strong enough. For begging for his help like some sort of pathetic deer, your limbs stuck in a pool of mud as a typhoon of wind consumed the very breath you were taking. You were wriggling, like a cockroach on a matt of glue. Squealing. Begging.

Begging.

You begged for his help and that was the most vulnerable you have ever been to someone.

And he...Heard straight past you, as if you were just some wail of wind from a faraway distance.

Silence rushes into the workshop like a thunderstorm. It seems like the samurai is finally rendered speechless – unknowing of what to say, what to do, or where to go.

Instantly, your fingers grab for the sheathed Enma, the silent child observing the present battlefield with an ironic sense of helplessness.

Without looking at him, without tilting yourself upwards or even acknowledging the outline of his shadowed figure, you slam the masterfully refined sword against his chest with meaning.

“One more sword, and my debts to you are cleared,” you mutter out, staring in the opposite direction from his presence. “One more sword, and we're done.”

Fiercely, you slam the door shut on the way out.

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firefirefruit · 3 months

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Steel in Her Veins, Chapter: Twenty-Four

Read On: AO3 | Table of Contents | Next Chapter

Characters: Fem!Reader x Roronoa Zoro

Chapter Twenty-Four: You Want to Come Over and Touch Me, Too?

Swallowing hard, you face Law’s burning gaze with a pretence of hot-headedness.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you respond, narrowing your brown eyes into a feline glare.

What with Bepo’s word against yours, you’re aware that lying would be an incredibly weak attempt at brushing off Law’s accusation; regardless, with a sense of overcoming pressure washing over you, you’re willing to say anything but admit to a confession.

As expected, Law scoffs at you hugely. He pulls his arms into a tighter cross. “Really? You’re trying out that tactic with me?”

And for the next few moments, you’re locked in a combative, narrow-eyed staring contest with one another.

Leave it alone, your eyes say as they slope further into more threatening slits.

Law’s eyebrow’s twitch bemusedly. I don’t think so, they counter.

CLANG!

The resounding crash of metal against metal reverberates through the crow’s nest like a war cry, prompting you to whirl around, your senses honing in on the source of the disruption. There stands Zoro, towering like a behemoth, his grip on the weights loosened deliberately to create the cacophony.

Your eyebrow arches with scepticism, a silent question hanging in the air. Zoro's response? A nonchalant shrug that screams anything but nonchalance, accompanied by a sardonic grunt that could rival the roar of a disgruntled bear.

"Oops," Zoro deadpans, the word dripping with sarcasm so thick you could cut it with one of his swords.

Rolling your eyes at the dramatic gesture, you turn back to Law, your arm quickly thrown out in his face.

“Pretend to examine my arm and I’ll talk.”

As Law's inked fingers grasp at your skin, you can't help but flinch slightly at his cold touch, albeit his handling is soft and gentle. But instead of merely feigning his examination, as you had half-expected, it becomes evident that Law is taking his task quite seriously. His demeanour shifts from bemusement to intense focus, his brow furrowing as he meticulously examines your arm.

You swallow, your throat suddenly feeling like it’s swelled up to twice its size. “What I’m about to say stays between us and Bepo, understood?”

Law pauses his examination, his gaze lifting from your arm to meet your eyes. There's a spark of curiosity across his countenance as he gives you a singular nod.

"Understood," he replies evenly, his voice low and hushed. "But firstly, why are you hiding yourself from your own crew?”

You pick up the Uchiko ball that softly drapes itself over the Enma. Like a lover holding onto its source of dear respite, it reluctantly rolls away into your fingertips – fingertips that twirl with such effortless precision, you could mistake them for a horologist’s.

You sigh, frowning at the powder ball - as though this little tool has been your main source of trouble from the very start.

“Because, if word gets out about my identity, then I’m a danger to all of those who I care for. If I tell the crew, there’s a chance it could accidentally be spread to others. That not only some mysterious force wants me, but also that a former Wano hotshot, related to Oden, has left the country and has a 'free snatching for all!' sign written on her head.”

Law’s dark eyes are lowered as he wipes your arm with an antiseptic, a needle laying idly in one of his medical kits. “So, people are after you.”

You nod, now touching the Enma by her hilt. Newly leathered and greased, she’s ready to go back to her owner. You dab the ball on her sharp edge, powder releasing across its shimmering surface.

“I have no idea what all these fuckers want from me. Random outlaws, the CP-0 and now…creatures that I never knew existed until...” You choke out the last part heavily, biting on your lower lip hard to stop yourself from tearing up. “That’s how…Suki was taken.”

Law snaps his head up to you. “Kozuki Sukiyaki? By who?”

You furiously shake your head, feeling the burn in your other hand slice through you as you experience the pain of losing your Gramps all over again. “Something…It swallowed him whole like some fucking jelly. It sucked the life out of everything it touched. I-I can’t get it out of my head.”

Law stares at you gravely, his cold fingers tightening over your wrist almost imperceptibly. His tone is serious now – almost demanding – as he proceeds to question you through gritted teeth.

“What did it look like?”

You look back down at him, something clicking in place for you, too. Law must know something about it - must have experienced something similar.

You answer with only one heavy word, the tip of your tongue burning in resentment for the shadowed being. You breathe it out, choking on its taste, its gel-like macabre invading your vision once more.

“Eyeballs.”

Law's expression shifts incredibly into a sort of contained fury. His eyes narrow slightly, a flicker of understanding crossing his features.

"Eyeballs," he repeats, his voice barely above a whisper. The air lays thick as the shadowed body itself – translucent and unbreathable - as he processes your words, his eyes holding a type of withered rage within them.

CLANG!

The sharp clang of metal reverberates through the crow’s nest yet again, cutting through the heavy silence like a blade slicing through cloth. Startled, you and Law both turn towards the source of the disturbance, your gazes locking onto Zoro, who stands amidst the weightlifting equipment, his expression unreadable but his body language speaking volumes.

"What now?" you mutter under your breath, irritation lacing your words as you eye the swordsman, who seems determined to disrupt your conversation with Law.

With a casual shrug that belies the underlying tension, Zoro meets your gaze head-on, his demeanour challenging. It's as if he's daring you to confront him, to question his motives for disrupting your discussion.

You exchange a quick glance with Law, who remains stoically observant, his gaze flickering between you and Zoro with a hint of intrigue.

With a grumbling sigh, you turn back to Law, silently urging him to continue the conversation despite the Bull-Head’s intrusion; there are matters that need addressing, and you refuse to let Zoro's antics derail your focus.

Law's gaze remains fixed on Zoro for a moment longer before he turns his attention back to you, his expression guarded. For a moment, there's silence between the two of you, the weight of your confession hanging heavy in the air.

Then, without a word, Law begins to open a freshly packaged needle.

"I've encountered them before," he finally admits, his voice low and tinged with bitterness. "Penguin - one of my crewmates… he was taken. Before your Captain rammed into us, we were trying to find him.”

You feel your heart thrumming on the tip of your tongue. “Why him?”

“I don’t know yet. I think they mistook him for me, as ridiculous as that sounds,” he says between gritted teeth. He nudges his head to your skin. “Did this happen after Kozuki-ya was taken?”

You give a terse nod.

“Then that’s one problem crossed out; the trauma of Eyeballs has triggered the transformation. But what I’m more curious about is whether your transformation would have happened regardless. Is this inherited or was it done by an external factor?” he mutters the last sentence more to himself than anything.

He runs his inked fingers across your arm, tracing the blackened and iridescent blue veins of your skin ever so lightly, ever so softly, that your stomach uncontrollably drops in response.

CLANG! TWANG! CLANG! CRASH!

Your frustration bubbles to the surface as you whirl around again, expecting to find Zoro once more amidst the weightlifting equipment.

Sure enough, there he stands, his imposing figure casting a shadow over the room as he eyes you and Law with an unreadable expression. But this time, there's a subtle shift in his demeanour, a tension that thrums beneath the surface as his gaze locks onto Law's hand gently caressing your arm.

You raise your eyebrows at Zoro, your eyes completely dead-panned.

“You want to come over here and touch me, too?” you call out.

Zoro's expression flickers with a mixture of surprise and annoyance at your blunt remark. He opens his mouth to respond, but no words come out, his usual retort lost in the face of your bold challenge.

Meanwhile, there's a small smirk on Law’s mouth as he watches the events unfold like some sort of referee.

And before Bull-Head finally finds his voice, you brazenly interrupt him with a sarcastic smile and a dramatic flick of a switch.

The unused walls that partition the floor of the gym and the workshop now groan from its wake, slowly rising to its now-welcomed intrusion. With the last few glares that you receive from the samurai, you dramatically wave back at him with a devious cock to your head.

As the mechanical walls shudder in its succession, you turn back to Law with a satisfied smirk. In response, Law watches you with amusement twinkling in his eyes, clearly entertained by your bold maneuver to ensure privacy for your conversation.

And finally, the rumbling stops, the barriers are in its full splendour, and you can now go back to business.

"Well, that takes care of that," you remark, crossing your arms and leaning against one of the now-closed walls. "Now, where were we?"

Law flicks up a needle in his hand. “You okay if I take some of your blood with me?”

“You creep me out, Trafalgar,” you mutter, giving him a heavy side-eye. Alas, Law stares at you with a pointed look, waiting for you to give your actual consent; in reply, you smile at him a little, thrusting your hand out. “Go for it, doc.”

As the needle gently finds its way into your skin, you silently watch Law draw your blood with a sense of ease and nonchalance, as if he’s done this a million times – good, you think to yourself. You were a little worried that he was lying about his profession for a second.

Law decides to suddenly break the silence whilst idly watching your blood seep into the vial's reservoir.

“I hope you know that we’ve been to Wano. Your crew have met people you’ve probably not seen for a decade.”

Your heart stammers incredibly hard in your chest from his sudden comment, the realisation of his words slamming into you like a ton of bricks. You have not heard about Wano since you left - nor did you ever want to. But the fact that your crew has now seen and met the people that you have not even…

It scares you.

Because - what do they know?

Because - what has happened since you were gone?

But - should you care? You've revoked your title and all that comes with it to receive a legal grant to leave the country. You are basically a stranger to your home, now – a home you absolutely despised, if that soothes any discomfort that lays within your chest. But you can’t lie that you miss the peace. And the people. Well, some of them, at least.

Law looks at you suspiciously, realising that maybe you haven't known about this particular fact until now. He flickers his focus back to the needle in his hand. “I heavily advise you to read through one of their logbooks.”

You swallow, tilting your head to the side. “I don’t want to.”

“You have to,” he responds instantly, a firmness lingering in his tone. “Trust me.”

You pretend to ignore his insistence by turning to the Enma. With a bitten-back lip, you thoughtfully polish the Enma with your other hand, gently puffing the ball on the different areas of her body.

Law takes notice of the sword in your grasp whilst he gently removes the needle from your arm . He slightly purses his lips, pondering amidst the awkward silence on whether it’s a good idea to bring that matter up or not.

Finally, he sighs. He points to the Enma that lays in your hand.

“I can’t believe I’m asking you this, swordsmith, but where do you think Zoro-ya got that from?”

Surprised, you look up at him – and for the first time in the conversation, your voice doesn't come out so self-assured. You furrow your eyebrows.

“Well, we don’t really have that kind of friendship. I-I just assumed someone illegally smuggled it out of Wano, and he found it somewhere.”

“Well,” Law says as he shifts himself off from the mahogany stool. He sweeps off his equipment from the table. “Maybe you should ask.”

You raise an eyebrow at him. “Are you going somewhere?”

“I’m…going to see Mugiwara-ya. To form…another alliance.” He chokes out the last word with a withered sigh, irritation colouring his face like you’ve never seen before. He looks down at you, his jaw clenched. “It seems that we both have a common objective to reach. It would be easier for Tony-ya and I to work together on your arm, too - I would like to document it for future purposes.”

“Hang on - what about Kikoku? Our deal?” You splutter out, vindictively narrowing your eyes at him.

He offers you a rare smile. “Keep it. I’ll come back in a few hours, anyway.”

And as he beelines to the barrier’s door, you can’t help but voice out one last lingering thought.

“Can I ask you one last question?” You call out.

Law silently turns around, leaning himself against the wall. A silent ‘go ahead,' if anything.

You breathe in deeply. “What was my tell? The one that revealed my identity?”

And immediately, Law's lips find its way into a devious smirk as he meets your gaze, a glint of amusement dancing in his eyes. He pauses for a moment, considering his response, before finally answering.

"Let's just say, it was what you said - and also how you said it," he replies, his smirk widening ever so slightly.

And with that enigmatic statement hanging in the air, Law takes his leave, striding confidently out of the room and – quite intentionally – leaving the door between the gym and the workshop hanging wide open. You watch him go, his departure leaving you with more questions than answers.

As you ponder over Law's words, Enma laying loosely within your fingertips, your thoughts are instantly interrupted by the thrum of demanding footsteps.

Turning towards the noise, your eyes lock with his, his imposing figure drawing closer with each step. His wet green hair glistens in the light, and his gaze is sharp as it meets yours.

Zoro's approach is slow and deliberate, his movements fluid and purposeful like a predator stalking its prey. With each step, his presence looms larger, casting a shadow over the room that seems to swallow everything in its path.

With a raise of your eyebrow, you watch him take his place in front of you, leaning his side against the workshop table. He runs his glistening, calloused hands through a damp cloth, his darkening grey eye never leaving yours. You stare up at the lion, the predator that's now silently observing you, as his rumbling voice departs from the tip of his tongue.

“You’re telling me everything,” he lowly demands, sprawling himself on the mahogany stool.

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firefirefruit · 3 months

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Steel in Her Veins, Chapter: Twenty-Three

Read On: AO3 | Table of Contents | Next Chapter

Characters: Fem!Reader x Roronoa Zoro

Chapter Twenty-Three: Children of the Beyond

What’s the worst thing that could happen to a person who treasures knowledge?

Simply, they’re refused education.

Well - let’s refine that a little bit further:

They’re refused the education that actually matters, and they’re given the one that’s supposed to turn one into a highly-esteemed Wano lady.

You were not the ideal female blueprint of what they were expecting. When you came out of your mother’s womb, it was barely a private matter; the Kozuki higher-ups of the clan circled around the event of your birth, watching, waiting to see what would come out of this woman.

Was it going to be a prideful and celebratory matter - an honourable boy, prepared to carry the Kozuki title for another generation?

Or would it be…something else. Something not even dared to be uttered between each other in the fear of it rendering true.

Another pretty face added into a group of closed-mouth, fluttering pretty faces? Albeit their feminine forms and minds graceful, as composed as wolves that prowl before a rippling moon, they will never amount to anything in the Land of Wano.

Instead of being allowed to embrace their true forms, they would become domesticated. By man.

And when your mother would grunt and scream for one last push, sweat donning her back and face in such an overbearing substance of what could only be called hope, she would think in that moment – ‘Curse all these men who watch me. They will never understand the pain and joy of offering life.’

And with her last breaths, with her last warrior-like pushes and her last venomous thoughts, you would come into the world.

Not in the hands of your dying mother, but in the scrambling hands of those desperate to see your sex. You scream like a ferocious animal within those hands, wriggling away like an uncontainable soul.

“A girl,” someone would say in gasping breath, their voice faltering immensely.

There’s a crushing silence within the bedchambers. No one even attempts to look at each other, their breaths lodged in their throats like a large, repulsing bone in the midst of what was supposed to be a delicious meal. Instead, their eyes droop furiously onto the woman that lays dead in her bed.

“Even within her last breaths…she was a disappointment,” one hisses, slamming his cane against the brushed wooden floors. “Dishonourable woman!”

Kozuki Sukiyaki was in that room. Not often did he utter a word within those four walls. Not often did he react to the news of his granddaughter, or even the death of his daughter. He merely stood next to the closed door, his expression unreadable within the shadows of the daylight.

“Raya,” Kozuki Sukiyaki would manage to voice out loud, one of the few things he would say within the history of this moment.

Everyone would turn to their Shogun, the shuffles of their footsteps could only be described as flustered and clumsy.

“I…I’m sorry, my lord?”

Sukiyaki looks up to the clan, the beams of sunlight crossing the stricken face of a man who just lost his child, and he tightly purses his lips.

“If you were listening to my daughter’s last words, you would have known the child’s name,” he growls. “Raya. That is her name. The child of the Sun.”

They look down at the howling baby in their repulsed fingertips, not knowing how to react, or what to say, in the midst of their Shogun.

Raya. The child of the Sun. Born within light, and roaring like fire, you would rise like the sun for the next generation of Wano.

What you would not have known, though, was that for the next eight years of your ferocious life, you would try to be extinguished. A hand cupped over your small, brimming flame, pinching at the light that dared to seep in through the cracks of your eyes, you would merely be trained to become a lady.

That’s all they would try to do to you – to contain, smother and cool you off like a promising young lady.

And while you sought for knowledge – and, you mean, the real type of knowledge – within the literacy of what they gave you, it was not enough.

You wanted to read. Fuck, you wanted to swear. You wanted to be improper, and get dirty, and fight like a boy. To get bloodied, and muddied, and scream for the first time in your life.

So you did exactly just that.

You would steal books; read about the sciences, medicines, how to cure or bandage different injuries. You would read of true literature - illegal scripts of fictional stories about girls who acted like boys.

You would run away from home – to fight with the boys in the army, to grasp the hands of reluctant girls at your age, trying to show them a different way of freedom.

You would sneak into Sukiyaki’s workshop to play with his swords – slam them with no finesse against blocks of wood sprawled within a box of scraps, and then accidentally hit your head on his anvil.

You would look through his books of swordsmithing, read the ways of the Samurai, of sword-wielding and Ikigai, and you fell in love with the art of it. You fell in love with not only the idea of becoming a powerful Samurai, but of creating the very weapon that would lay within your fingers, become a part of your sought-for honourable identity.

You would get thrown into your rooms, locked for days. You would get slapped. Hit on the areas that were not visible, of course, because heaven forbid they mark the face or hands of a woman. Because then, she wouldn’t be desirable, but merely an opened and tainted piece of food.

They would scream at you, as the tears you would try to furiously suck back in would inevitably stream down your angry little face. They would point at the blue-haired girl in the corner, who would always stare at the tongue-lashing, wide-eyed and frightened every single time it would happen to you.

“You are an animal!” they would scream, spitting with such hatred - for when they looked at you, they saw your dishonourable mother within your glittering eyes. “Follow in your dear cousin’s footsteps, or you shall be thrown away!”

You turn around to the direction of their venomous pointing finger, and you stare. With loud, furious tears in your eyes, you would stare back at the little girl who, in turn, had quiet, sad ones painted across her rosy cheeks. Hiyori.

Hiyori, the child of the Moon. The perfect epitome of what a woman should be.

Raya, the child of the Sun. Tainted, animalistic and sunburnt. Marked as dishonourable.

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firefirefruit · 3 months

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Steel in Her Veins, Chapter: Twenty-Two

Read On: AO3 | Table of Contents | Next Chapter

Characters: Fem!Reader x Roronoa Zoro

Chapter Twenty-Two: The Doctor Just Pinched Me

“What did you just say?!” Sanji sputters, a cigarette spat airborne from his lips. You furrow your brow at the cook.

“What do you mean, what did I say? I said ‘let me play with your—‘” Realisation dawns on you and you swear even your blackened arm sizzles in humiliation. You reflexively bark out a nervous laugh. “Oh, for fuck’s sake, Sanji.”

Usopp, on the other hand, bursts into laughter, doubling over as he struggles to catch his breath; you shoot him a scowl and shove him hard, but his resounding cackles only intensify. Meanwhile, Sanji's stunned expression slowly morphs into a shit-eating smirk, and you can practically see the gears turning in his devilish head.

"You…dirty-minded fiend." The cook wriggles his eyebrows. "I didn’t know you had a thing for doctors."

Zoro whips his head around so hard you think for a second, he’s actually snapped it off. He glares at the cook, frustration colouring his face from his lack of understanding. “What you talking about?”

Sanji, undeterred by Zoro's glare, flashes a smug grin and leans back against the railing, crossing his arms over his chest. "Oh, nothing much, just that Raya wants to play with Law’s sword."

Yet again, Usopp breaks out in belly-aching laughter, his knees knocking onto the floor. “Oh, this is the highlight of my day!” he gasps.

“Sanji? Can you shut up now?” you scowl, feeling the familiar smell of your hair singeing in embarrassment.

Zoro furrows his eyebrows and blinks obliviously. “Yeah, it’s just a sword. What’s it to do with doctors?”

“Tch. Meathead,” Sanji grumbles under his breath, flicking his cigarette butt into the sea before strolling back into his kitchen.

“Zoro…” Brook gapes at the samurai. “Surely, you get it…you know…maybe try putting the words into a different context?”

His brows knit together in a knot of confusion, his gaze bouncing from one smirking face to another like a befuddled spectator at a carnival sideshow.

Then, like a slow-motion replay of a pratfall in a comedy of errors, realisation begins to dawn on Zoro. It starts as a flicker of recognition, a tiny flame of understanding struggling to ignite amidst the murky depths of his mind. He blinks once, twice, his expression morphing from bewilderment to incredulity in the span of a heartbeat.

Suddenly, it hits him like a ton of bricks, and his eye widens with the sudden revelation. And with all the subtlety of a charging bull, Zoro turns his gaze upon Law, his eye shooting daggers with the precision of a seasoned marksman.

"Already preying on our crew-mate, Law?" he roughly mutters out, his tone clipped short.

“Oh my God, I didn’t mean it like that!” you exasperatedly exclaim, hands flailing in the air. You turn to Law, desperation in your eyes. “I didn’t mean it like that.’

Law, ever composed, merely shakes his head with a small smirk. "I know."

"Okay, okay, so, what about it?" you quickly press on.

He glances down at the sword in his hand, then back up at you, his lips twitching with the hint of a smirk.

"You want to play with Kikoku?" he asks, the corners of his mouth lifting into what was, you suppose, an attempt at smiling. Regardless, you nod eagerly, your eyes lighting up with joy; Law looks at you in curiosity before the next set of words part from his mouth.

"I want to know why first."

You shrug nonchalantly, trying to play it cool despite the sword-like butterflies that are totally geeking out in your stomach. “I like swords."

Zoro scoffs hugely hearing this, while Usopp snickers at yet another one of your sentences, earning him a humongous slap on the head before you swerve around to Law and hiss, “You did that on purpose!”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he smoothly replies, his eyes fixing on you with a twinkling gaze. He looks down to his sharp-bladed partner, twirling her body under the sunlight like a marionette. "If there's even a dent on her, I'll be teleporting you into different pieces."

You meet his gaze with determination, a smirk rising on your lips. "Fine with me."

With a nod to you, the doctor turns to your old furry friend, making your heart squeeze again at the fact that he’s really a few steps away from you. Soon, you'll be able to talk to him. To see how he's lived, t know where he's been, who Law really is to him. And, of course, to ask where Zepo is.

“Circle the rest up and bring them on board. I’ll explain the situation to them later.”

And with a firm, “Aye, Aye, Captain!”, Bepo turns to you, giving you a large, meaningful grin - in a way that wordlessly says, 'we need to talk!' and goes to climbing over the deck, only slowly descending from your sight.

Law looks at you expectantly, his sword extended in the air between the two of you. “Let’s go, then.”

✦

As you and Law make your way up to the crow's nest, you can’t help but analyse the weight of Kikoku in your hands, its presence so thrilling, yet so bashfully reclusive. You can’t wait to see if you’re able to talk to her, to see what she’s really like, whether she's happy with her owner or, rather, incredibly displeased.

You steal a glance at Law, who walks beside you with his usual deadpanned demeanour, but you can't help but notice a flicker of amusement in his eyes as he watches you.

Reaching the crow's nest, you open the door and step inside, the familiar scent of wood and metal greeting you as you enter your side of the workshop. You gesture for Law to take a seat on one of the refined stools, and he does so with a raised eyebrow, his gaze lingering on the array of gadgets and contraptions scattered around the room.

"A gym and a workshop?" He comments, his tone casual as he begins to push his sleeves to his elbows. “Interesting design choice.”

You laugh a little, lovingly spreading your hand across your desk. “We have a living skeleton as our bard, and our Cyborg lives off of cola in his stomach-fridge. Wouldn’t say this is the weirdest one out of them.”

Law exhales a breath from his nostrils, not quite wanting to commit to laughter, yet still not being able to control his reaction. “Fair enough. It’s a nice set-up you have here, regardless.”

You nod in agreement, a sense of pride swelling within you at the compliment. "Thanks. It’s my baby, in a way."

Law nods, his eyes flickering to you and your arm, and before you can pick up and begin to truly get a sense of Kikoku, he ‘rooms’ it to his lap with a flick of his inked finger.

“Hey!” you snap, glaring at him. “What about our deal?”

“I'll take a look at your arm first," Law simply says. “The deal’s still on.”

Rolling your eyes, you begrudgingly comply, pushing up your sleeve to reveal the blackened charcoal of what used to be your arm. And with a soft tug, Law examines it closely, his cold fingers deftly tracing the contours of the markings as he murmurs to himself in thought.

"Well, it is a transformation," he concludes after a moment, his expression grave. "But it's different from any I've seen before. I’m going to do a few tests to understand what we’re dealing with."

You shrug, stuffing a wrapped sweet you found in one of your desk drawers in your mouth. “Do as you like, but only if it doesn’t interfere with my work.”

He purses his lips, looking deeply into your skin. “Do you have any Devil Fruit powers?”

You nod. “I do. The burn-burn fruit, specifically.”

“And can you still use them?”

“Why don’t you have a look?” A shit-eating grin begins to grow across your face before fire from your hand explodes into Law’s face – albeit you used the harmless version of your power, Law glares up at you, his eyes blown into massive saucers.

“What the fuck were you thinking?” He snaps, staring furiously at you.

You wince and inhale sharply, your upper arm punishing your childish shenanigans by pulsing angrily through you. “You’re supposed to be laughing, Law. I was trying to mess around.”

Still unamused, he looks down to your skin. “So, in short, you can use them, but it hurts like hell.”

But just as Law’s getting into the groove of his expertise, you both hear heavy footsteps cramming themselves in the entrance of the door, and you turn to see Zoro loudly stumbling into the crow's nest, his expression unreadable. Your eyes widen as he looks at you, a flicker of suspicion crossing his face.

"What are you doing here?"

Zoro shrugs nonchalantly, though there's a hint of defensiveness in his stance. "Working out," he mutters, his gaze flickering between you and Law.

You raise an eyebrow, pushing the sweet in your mouth into the corner of your cheek. “You don’t normally work out around this time.”

“I don’t remember you asking me these types of questions, either.” And with a twitch to the samurai’s eyes, he stands from afar, facing you and Law, and peels his shirt off.

He flings it in the corner of his gym, his eyes never leaving Law’s, as he begins to stretch out and flex his arms. “Got a problem?”

Law’s mouth twitches upwards slightly. “Thanks for the entertainment, I’m sure my patient’ll need it.”

You slap a hand on the side of your cheek, definitely not entertained by any of this. “Is this another dick-swinging contest I’m gonna have to watch?”

Law chuckles softly, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes as he looks at Zoro. "Looks like it," he remarks, his tone light yet tinged with a touch of irony.

You shoot him a sideways glance, a smirk playing at the corners of your lips.

"Well, let's hope it doesn't turn into a full-blown showdown," you quip, your gaze flickering between Zoro and Law. You dramatically sigh, earning an eye-roll from Zoro. "May I remind you that you're dealing with a wounded patient, here?"

"Please," Law and Zoro both mutter.

As Law begins to conduct his examination of your arm, Zoro's presence looms in the background like a silent sentinel, his watchful gaze never wavering. You can't help but feel a pang of annoyance at his intrusion, yet there's also a strange sense of comfort in having him nearby, like a lion you’ve so begrudgingly befriended. Always on your shoulder, always watching, always growling.

Law, unfazed by Zoro's presence, focuses intently on his task, his movements precise and calculated as he ‘rooms’ in a set of his medical equipment that you assume was salvaged at the last second from his sinking ship. Then, he prepares himself to conduct the tests on your skin.

As he lowers his head closer to your blackened arm, his hands rub together in sanitiser; the smell of distilled alcohol wafts into your senses and a tiny part of anxiety wedges into the depths of your stomach. What are you both going to find out? Or – will the tests come back inconclusive? You don’t know. Honestly? You're not sure if you want to.

“This might hurt, so breathe deeply for me,” Law’s voice intrudes into the babbling of your thoughts as a mild warning, as he gently places your hand over his palm, his other hand resting over the skin. With a silent nod, you inhale and grit your teeth, ready for the familiar pulse of pain to ring through you, to turn your world upside down yet again.

And he pinches the skin at your fingertips, hard. A pause. He pinches again, but in a different section, a lot harder this time, from the way his fingers are turning white from pressure. Pause.

And nothing.

You blink, looking down at a curious Law as he pinches at the skin yet again, his eyebrows furrowed as continues to observe your reactions.

He raises his eyebrows. “You’re not pretending to feel anything, right?”

“Not at all.” You huff out a laugh, looking as intrigued as him as you flex your affected hand out over his. You cock your head, deep in thought.

“The contusion appeared from my hand first, so compared to the rest of my arm, my hand should be just a bunch of…dead, old cells. Which would make sense - that I'm not feeling anything at your attempt of contusions. Weird that you tried to bruise me, Law," you mutter, giving him a side-eye at his odd idea of doctorly testing. You then begin to prattle off on more of the medical knowledge you once used to know from your heart. From way back in Wano. From both the books they gave you, and the books you would steal. You continue, your voice now softer, more thoughtful, as you talk more to yourself than to him.

"But how am I still in control of it? How are my muscles still convulsing, if they're supposed to be dead? Shouldn’t I be unable to even move my hand, let alone use my powers?”

Law looks at you, leaning back in his chair. He retracts his hand, folding them into a tight cross, and continues to stare at you with an emotion you can’t quite place.

You stare back at him, then awkwardly look around the room. Was it something that you accidentally said?

“…What?” you mutter.

He smirks, carefully looking at Zoro and then to you. And with the lowest, quietest voice, he mutters the next few words in the stilled air between you two.

“Bepo was right. You really are her. Kozuki Raya.”

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