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A light breeze tousled your hair, bringing with it the smell of salt and sea, and the calls of the seagulls that circled overhead, their keen eyes on the rolling waves and the meal they would find beneath them. You curled your bare toes in excitement, letting them sink into the cool sand under your feet. He’s back!
It was not long before the sails of the great ships came into view, peeking over the rim of the horizon. You watched them come, a familiar feeling spreading in your chest. You grinned widely when you sighted that familiar blond head at the bow.
“Marco!” you called, waving energetically.
But something was wrong.
Your grin faltered as they grew nearer. A dark aura hung above the heads of the crew, bearing down on them like a great weight. A low keening filled the air, almost like lyrics made to accompany the song of the crashing waves – a song of sorrow and loss.
Oh no…
A flash of red caught your eye from afar, and your gaze was drawn to the ship that sailed amongst the fleet, the Jolly Roger on its flag instantly recognizable. Red-Hair Shanks. Your eyes narrowed. What is he doing here? And suddenly you understood.
The war was over.
The time had come to bury the dead.
You watched in silence as they unloaded the bodies. Shanks carried the smaller form himself, a look of grim determination on his face. Marco aided in transporting the larger. The glance he offered you was one of such pain you felt your own heart break.
And so the grim procession made its way forward across the sand, up the hill to where the cold earth awaited them. The ceremony was short and informal, yet in that short space of time the ground was watered with a thousand tears.
You approached the grave markers, a wreath of cherry blossoms in each hand, and placed them at the site. Loose petals drifted on the breeze and out onto the crowded shore. You turned to Marco an offered him a sad smile, reaching up to cup his stubbled cheek. It was free from tears, but you could tell it was taking all his strength just to hold them back. You brushed away one that had escaped with the pad of your thumb, then slipped away, leaving him to mourn with the others.
When night had fallen, he stood alone before the silhouettes on the hill. Shanks had left after paying his last respects. The others had filed away one by one in search of a tankard or a woman in which to drown their sorrows. You approached hesitantly.
“Marco?” you said softly. He did not acknowledge you. “Marco, it’s late. It’s been a long day, you need to sleep.”
“How can I possibly sleep?” he choked. “My world was shattered in a matter of hours. How do I know tomorrow will still be there when I wake up?”
You placed a gentle hand on his arm and turned him to face you. You cupped his face as you had earlier. This time, his cheeks were damp.
“I promise you, it will be.”
You kissed him long and soft and when you pulled back his eyes were shut tight, silent sobs racking his body. He sank to his knees in the sand before you, and you went with him, holding him in your arms. The grit beneath you still held the heat of the day, though it did little to ease the pain of the last twelve hours.
“Tomorrow will come. And the day after. And the day after that,” you whispered, holding him against you, letting your warmth wash over him. “The world is not gone – it’s still here, it’s still spinning. Your heart is still beating and so is mine. I promise you, we’re not going anywhere.”
“They weren't just my Captain and my crew mate – they were my family, my father and brother torn away from me by the government’s sick delusions of justice. How is that justice, [Name]?”
He pulled back to look up at you, voice thick with despair.
“It’s not,” you admitted sadly. You pulled him into another tight embrace and closed your eyes, listened to his laboured breath and anguished cries.
“It’s not justice at all.”
A light breeze tousled your hair, bringing with it the smell of salt and sea, and the calls of the seagulls that circled overhead, their keen eyes on the rolling waves and the meal they would find beneath them. You curled your bare toes in excitement, letting them sink into the cool sand under your feet. He’s back!
It was not long before the sails of the great ships came into view, peeking over the rim of the horizon. You watched them come, a familiar feeling spreading in your chest. You grinned widely when you sighted that familiar blond head at the bow.
“Marco!” you called, waving energetically.
But something was wrong.
Your grin faltered as they grew nearer. A dark aura hung above the heads of the crew, bearing down on them like a great weight. A low keening filled the air, almost like lyrics made to accompany the song of the crashing waves – a song of sorrow and loss.
Oh no…
A flash of red caught your eye from afar, and your gaze was drawn to the ship that sailed amongst the fleet, the Jolly Roger on its flag instantly recognizable. Red-Hair Shanks. Your eyes narrowed. What is he doing here? And suddenly you understood.
The war was over.
The time had come to bury the dead.
You watched in silence as they unloaded the bodies. Shanks carried the smaller form himself, a look of grim determination on his face. Marco aided in transporting the larger. The glance he offered you was one of such pain you felt your own heart break.
And so the grim procession made its way forward across the sand, up the hill to where the cold earth awaited them. The ceremony was short and informal, yet in that short space of time the ground was watered with a thousand tears.
You approached the grave markers, a wreath of cherry blossoms in each hand, and placed them at the site. Loose petals drifted on the breeze and out onto the crowded shore. You turned to Marco an offered him a sad smile, reaching up to cup his stubbled cheek. It was free from tears, but you could tell it was taking all his strength just to hold them back. You brushed away one that had escaped with the pad of your thumb, then slipped away, leaving him to mourn with the others.
When night had fallen, he stood alone before the silhouettes on the hill. Shanks had left after paying his last respects. The others had filed away one by one in search of a tankard or a woman in which to drown their sorrows. You approached hesitantly.
“Marco?” you said softly. He did not acknowledge you. “Marco, it’s late. It’s been a long day, you need to sleep.”
“How can I possibly sleep?” he choked. “My world was shattered in a matter of hours. How do I know tomorrow will still be there when I wake up?”
You placed a gentle hand on his arm and turned him to face you. You cupped his face as you had earlier. This time, his cheeks were damp.
“I promise you, it will be.”
You kissed him long and soft and when you pulled back his eyes were shut tight, silent sobs racking his body. He sank to his knees in the sand before you, and you went with him, holding him in your arms. The grit beneath you still held the heat of the day, though it did little to ease the pain of the last twelve hours.
“Tomorrow will come. And the day after. And the day after that,” you whispered, holding him against you, letting your warmth wash over him. “The world is not gone – it’s still here, it’s still spinning. Your heart is still beating and so is mine. I promise you, we’re not going anywhere.”
“They weren't just my Captain and my crew mate – they were my family, my father and brother torn away from me by the government’s sick delusions of justice. How is that justice, [Name]?”
He pulled back to look up at you, voice thick with despair.
“It’s not,” you admitted sadly. You pulled him into another tight embrace and closed your eyes, listened to his laboured breath and anguished cries.
“It’s not justice at all.”
Literature
One Piece Valentine's 5: Zoro
You were lounging on the deck after a long couple of days on the sea. Your swords propped beside you on a barrel, in case of an emergency. The rest of the crew were in town restocking the ship and had been gone for sometime now. Come to think of it, they should be getting back soon. About the time you were thinking this someone called out your name. " ______! we're back!" Pepper called as she boarded the ship. The rest of the crew filed on behind her. All carrying various things for the ship.
You lifted your head smiling at your first mate. " Great, I trust you found all the things we needed?"
She nodded affirmative, " Yes captain"
" did y
Literature
Burning Passion~ Sabo x Reader pt18
You shiver awake, eyes closed. A warm arm pulls you into a warm body. You relax a bit, pressing into the warmth. Your tired eyes ease open to find tan chest marked with a familiar scar. You blink exhausted at it for a bit, trying to remember who the scar belonged to. "Zoro," Your voice cracks as you remember. He pulls back to look at you.
"You're awake," He breathes. You blink at him weakly, tears suddenly coming to your eyes.
"Zoro," You murmur again, making him stiffen. "I was scared."
"It's okay, you're safe now," He says softly, holding you against him.
"Is she okay?" Law's voice sound
Literature
Burning Passion~ Sabo x Reader pt4
He carefully takes the blade from your grasp with his teeth, tossing it away before picking you up. "I keep telling ya Lizard, I'm not a princess so fight me," You growl at him.
He shakes his head. You fold your arms.
"Then what are you gonna do to me? Send me back down the mountain?" You question.
He nods in response.
"Even if you do that I'll just keep coming back for your head," You inform him stubbornly. The dragon sighs at your statement, and opens his wings.
"Please don't," You say. Too late, he already took off into the sky. You cover your eyes, frowning heavily. "
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Another sad one, I'm sorry D; I was seriously drawing a blank for Marco ^^'
Boy oh boy, am I excited to write Bartolomeo next. Lemon incoming ^^
One Piece belongs to Eiichiro Oda.
Boy oh boy, am I excited to write Bartolomeo next. Lemon incoming ^^
One Piece belongs to Eiichiro Oda.
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Oh the feelz when you figure out who their talking about.