DAY 5: If My Pain Will Stretch That Far
DAY 5: If My Pain Will Stretch That Far
Luffy can stretch and stretch, but he can't escape his pain.
I have a lot of Marineford-related stories for this Whumptober because I stil haven't gotten over it. And that prompt screamed Luffy, "if my pain can stretch that far", "stretch"? That's totally Luffy. Also I know one of the prompt is sunburn but you can also take it as "sun burn". Luffy, the analogy of the sun, burned by Akainu. I think I'm hilarious. Fandom: One Piece "Character(s) : Monkey D. Luffy Words Count: 1,350 Trigger Warnings: - Blood and Injury - Description of Scars - Past Death - Self-Harm (Luffy claws at his scar until it bleeds and reopens) - Suicidal Thoughts No. 5: SUNBURN Healing Salve | Heatstroke | "If my pain will stretch that far." (Lottery Winners, Burning House)
Some mornings, Luffy woke up with no pain, as if the weight of war had never touched his shoulders. Others—like today—he felt like lava was flowing through his veins and every breath was like swallowing hot coals. Everything hurt to the touch, as if shards of glass were stuck under his skin.
Luffy was pulled from his nightmare-filled sleep ( thank you for loving me! ) by a coughing fit, choking on ash and blood. His lungs burned, a raging inferno spreading through his body. His skin was raw, every nerve ending exposed, and the hand rubbing his back, trying to help, was agony.
Luffy felt like he would never be able to breathe again. After what seemed like an eternity (you know what’s the funny thing about time? it stretches out), Luffy managed, slowly and painfully, to catch his breath. He was prostrate on the ground, the tears on his cheeks like molten gold.
“Luffy-kun? Luffy-kun?”
His senses slowly returned to him: hearing (Rayleigh calling his name worriedly), sight (the sun above his head, burning, burning, burning), taste (blood and dirt on his tongue), smell (smoke and rotting corpses), and touch (everything hurt).
Luffy threw up, barely avoiding Rayleigh's feet.
Luffy lay down in the grass, arms and legs spread like a cross (was there a cross on Ace's grave?) and caught his breath, forcing air into his body despite the pain. Why did even breathing hurt? Luffy wanted to scream but it would hurt too.
Luffy didn't want to hurt anymore.
“Luffy-kun, can I touch your arm?” Rayleigh asked cautiously.
Luffy wanted to say no. Luffy didn't want anyone to touch him anymore.
(Ace had held him in his arms and Ace was dead.)
“Okay,” Luffy replied, his voice hoarse and broken.
Rayleigh gently grabbed his arm and helped Luffy sit up. Luffy rested his head on Rayleigh’s shoulder, the wind a blessing on his sweaty skin. Rayleigh handed him a canteen, metallic and cold under his fingers.
“Drink slowly,” Rayleigh advised.
Luffy’s arms shook with fatigue as he brought the canteen to his cracked lips. Water spilled down his chin and down his neck to his torso where his scar pulsed and burned. Listening to Rayleigh’s advice, Luffy drank slowly, washing away the blood and dirt in his mouth. Luffy hadn’t realized until then how dry his throat was. No wonder he was having trouble breathing.
(It reminded him of the deserts of Alabasta, dunes and golden sand as far as the eye could see. Ace was still alive at that moment, his crew still with him.)
"We should take a break from training today," Rayleigh suggested. "You're not in shape."
"No," Luffy protested, turning abruptly to Rayleigh. "I have to get stronger."
Luffy couldn't stop now. His friends were counting on him to get stronger. He couldn't stay weak, unable to protect the people he cared about. He couldn't lose someone again.
Luffy's vision blurred as his head spun until he couldn't tell which was up from which. Rayleigh caught him before he fell, stopping him from hitting his head hard on the ground.
"Rest today and we'll start training again tomorrow," Rayleigh said softly as he helped Luffy lie down properly.
But Luffy didn't want to sleep, because when he slept, nothing stopped his mind from taking him back to Marineford, to the screams of the dying, and to Ace's heart in his hands. When Luffy wasn't paying attention, he could still see Ace's blood on his hands.
"I don't want to—”
I don't want to be alone.
Luffy was sure he hadn't said the words out loud but Rayleigh looked at him with so much understanding that he ended up doubting it.
"You can't stay like that, you're covered in sweat and dried blood. Go to the river and wash yourself and then I'll show you some stretches," Rayleigh suggested.
"Silly Rayliegh, I don't need to do any stretching, I'm already elastic," Luffy laughed weakly, tugging on his cheek to prove his point.
Rayleigh smiled affectionately, a nostalgic glint in his eyes. "Stop protesting, little monkey! Go wash yourself."
Luffy stuck his tongue out at Rayleigh who walked away laughing. Leaning on a tree, he stood up, feeling the tension in each of his muscles, and headed towards the river, avoiding the passage of the wildest animals. Luffy didn't like washing, water—even if fresh water had a lesser effect—always made him all flabby and drained him of his strength.
Luffy sat down by the river, breathing heavily, the short walk through the forest having exhausted him. He let his feet touch the surface of the water, the icy temperature almost biting against his skin. Luffy let his feet sit in the water until he couldn’t feel them anymore, until he was numb to all sensation below his knees.
When Luffy finally stood up, walking a few steps to the middle of the river, he didn’t wince when the rocks at the bottom of the water cut into his feet. Luffy watched as the flow of blood was carried away by the ebbing river.
In the reflection of the clear water, Luffy could only see the scar that marred his torso. A bloody red cross, marking the place of his defeat. The proof of his failure. Even after months, the skin around the wound was still damaged and blistered, ugly and angry.
Luffy clutched his heart tightly, wishing it was numb as well. His fingers dug into the soft skin like claws, tearing at flesh and tissue. A terrible sob squeezed his chest, begging to be let out.
He couldn't breathe.
Luffy clawed at his heart, covering his fingers in red like an animal, bent double under the weight of the pain. His blood pulsed violently in his ears all the way to his fingertips. Luffy could hear nothing else. He could still feel Ace's heartbeat between his fingers, disappearing by the second.
He couldn't stop.
His knees buckled beneath him and Luffy fell into the middle of the river. He didn't see the translucent water turn red around him as blood poured from his heart down his limbs. With his eyes closed, Luffy couldn't feel the difference between water and blood. Not when he was drowning either way.
He couldn't breathe.
Luffy wanted to rip his heart out of his chest, the barrier of his ribs insignificant in the face of his grief. Blood stuck to his skin, seeping into his pores. (The last time his hands were covered in blood, Ace was dying in his arms.) Luffy clawed and clawed, like a pirate searching for treasure. If he gave his still-beating heart to Ace, maybe Ace could stay with him.
He couldn't stop.
His vision blurred as black and white spots danced beneath his eyelids. Dimly, Luffy realized that his head was underwater. Maybe that was why he couldn't breathe. Blood seeped into his lungs as Luffy let himself be pulled along by the now crimson river current.
He couldn't breathe.
It was cool to have brothers! They lived together in the forest, hunting alligators and playing all day long. Sabo would find treasures for him in the junkyard and Ace would hold him by the shirt so Luffy wouldn't get lost.
When night fell, they would fall asleep in the treehouse they had built, their pirate flag flying proudly in the wind. No wild animal (or angry gramps) could reach them here and Luffy had never felt safer than between his two big brothers.
Even when Luffy got eaten by an alligator or drowned in the river, Ace and Sabo always came looking for him. Luffy was never alone again.
Luffy drowned alone.
.
.
.
There was a hand in his.
Marked by age, covered in scars and calluses.
For a moment, Luffy thought that Gramps was by his side. But it was ridiculous, Gramps would never hold his hand like that, gently yet forcefully. As if the person holding his hand never intended to let go.
But Gramps always left.
(Everyone always left.)
(Ace was gone.)
The hand was still there.
I want to hug Luffy. Someone hug this traumatized child!
More Posts from The-stars-in-between and Others
DAY 8: Nightmares Don't Sleep
Zoro can't sleep, ghosts come to keep him company.
And here it is, it had to happen, first time (but not last time) that I'm late. I lasted a week so I'm happy. My mid-terms are starting so writing will take a back seat for me but I'm still going to try to finish Whumptober, even if it's not on time. I'll probably spend a few days to focus on stories that interest me more but I'll complete all the prompts. But for now, it's Zoro's time to suffer. This story will be in several parts (because I, too, need sleep and have yet to discover a way to write more than 10,000 words in two hours after class) and I promise, promise, promise there's comfort and fluff at the end. Not everyone will be so lucky this month. Fandom: One Piece Character(s) : Roronoa Zoro Relationship(s) : Mugiwara Kaizoku | Strawhat Pirates & Roronoa Zoro Trigger Warnings: - Multiple Electrocutions - Non-Consensual Body Modification (The Navy installs a chip in Zoro's neck while he's unconscious.) - Blood and Injuries No. 8: SLEEP DEPRIVATION Isolation Chamber | Forced to Stay Awake | "Leave the lights on." (Coldplay, Midnight)
HOUR 1
Zoro opened his eyes, the fog in his mind clearing as a brief but sharp pain spread through his ribs. Instinctively, his hand went to his haramaki but was met with air instead of steel.
Zoro sat up abruptly, the room spinning around him mercilessly. His mouth was pasty and he could no longer feel his tongue but the metallic taste of blood was not one he could forget. The screech of chains on the stone floor as he moved hurt his ears but he couldn't have covered them if he wanted to.
Zoro tested the chains that restrained him to the wall, the awkward position of his arms preventing him from going too far without dislocating his shoulder. His head felt heavy and he struggled to keep it straight, his eyes begging him to close for just a moment.
Still, Zoro found the strength—or the spite—to look down on the asshole marine who had just kicked him. It took a lot of skill to maintain such an arrogant attitude while being forced onto his knees, but Zoro was very good at what he did.
"Too afraid to hit me when I'm not tied up and unarmed?" Zoro smirked.
"Laugh while you still can," the marine ignored him — Bob, he looked like a Bob with his stupid mustache — and continued his villain monologue. "The unit in charge of escorting you to Impel will arrive in three days and I doubt you'll have time to laugh there."
Zoro didn't have time to come up with a sarcastic response (whatever drugs they'd injected him with to subdue him, cowards , were still in his system, so excuse him for being a little slow) as Bob leaned over to whisper in Zoro's ear.
"I'm sure you can ask your captain when he joins you in your cell."
The electric shock that ran through his body, leaving him spasming and drooling, was well worth Bob's cry of pain and horror as Zoro spat his torn ear onto the ground, red covering his teeth as he grinned victoriously. Bob slapped his hand where his ear had been seconds before, a thick trickle of blood running down his arm.
"You're a fool to think I won’t be gone by then. Pray your ear gets infected and you die before I get free,” Zoro threatened, his fingers still twitching uncontrollably.
Zoro had trained relentlessly for two years to become stronger, to never fail his captain again. It wasn't someone like Bob who was going to get in his way. He was just going to take a little nap and wait for the world to stop spinning before heading off to find his crew. They had probably gotten lost without him.
Zoro closed his tired eyes and the headache that was splitting his skull dulled for a moment. He just needed to sleep .
A second electric current went through him and Zoro could feel every single blood vessel bursting in shock. He convulsed violently, the rusty steel of his handcuffs digging into his skin, drawing blood. It took him longer to recover, resting his body weight against his chains, straining his shoulders almost to their limits, while he caught his breath.
(Zoro was used to the crackle of electricity in the air and the sound of thunder. But it lacked the smell of earth after rain and tangerines, the clink of gold bracelets and coins.)
When he raised his head (he only bowed his head to one man), Bob was grinning viciously. The blood on his jaw could have made him look menacing, but it only made him look like a child playing in the paint.
"I didn't think the chip would activate so soon," Bob sneered. "But let me introduce you to the new marvel of the Navy's science department. Whenever you're about to fall asleep, the chip in your neck will send an electric current through your body to keep you awake.”
Zoro twisted his neck, realizing that the dull bite in his neck wasn’t from the needle they’d used to drug him, but from a small silver metal chip.
Bob placed a finger against his cheek, pretending to think.
“A human being can go what… seventy-two hours without sleep? Pray that the Impel Down unit arrives before your hallucinations start talking to you. Or don’t. It’s your choice where you die.”
Zoro tugged fiercely at his chains and Bob looked frightened for a moment as pieces of the wall crumbled. But the wall and the chains stayed in place. Bob sighed in relief (bad idea, never show a predator that you’re afraid) and even allowed himself a small, strangled laugh.
“Enjoy your stay here, Roronoa. It’ll be your last.”
Zoro spat on Bob's freshly polished boots. "Run while you still can. You'll regret not killing me when you had the chance."
Face contorted with anger, Bob kicked him in the chin, his teeth clashing violently. He grabbed Zoro by the hair, forcing him to look up at a small remote control.
"I forgot, but luckily you seem very eager to get electrocuted, the chip can also be controlled remotely. If I were you, I'd start thinking about my attitude," Bob whispered, out of Zoro's range. He had learned his lesson at least. "You can start by apologizing."
"I'm sorry," Zoro began slowly, "that your mother abandoned you at birth. But I understand her, I wouldn't have stayed either."
The reaction was immediate, and damn if it didn't hurt a little—his vision went white and he practically choked on his tongue—but Zoro laughed as Bob walked out of the cell, still shaking with spasms.
Worth it.
For now, Zoro isn't suffering too much (from his point of view) and is more of a general nuisance than anything else but that will change as the sleepless hours progress. And speaking of which, go to sleep or take a nap, it'll do you good!
Shout-out to multilingual writers who are writing in their second (or third and so on) language.
The frustration of speaking it fluently, but still having to google basic words when you're writing.
The absolute joy of finding a word that sounds just perfect and conveys exactly what you mean.
Doubting all your grammar and being afraid to post it or even send it to a beta reader.
The euphoria of someone calling your use of this language, that is not your mother tongue, beautiful.
Three One Piece story ideas I might (or might not) write someday:
- The Faces I See In My Sleep: Ever since he was taken in by the Revolutionary Army, Sabo draws the same two faces over and over again without ever knowing their names. A little boy who smiles like the sun and another with stormy eyes and freckles like stars. And when Portgas D. Ace makes his debut on the high seas, Sabo can't help but notice the similarities between his wanted poster and the boy in his drawings.
- Pieces of Me: Nami had spent more than half her life serving Arlong. Arlong had stolen her mother, her childhood, and her freedom. He had taken everything from her. Her maps, her time, her hope, and her blood. Little by little, he had ripped away essential pieces of her, leaving behind only a broken, empty shell, just functional enough to be useful to him. But with the help of her crew, Nami becomes whole again, regaining the pieces of herself that Arlong stole from her.
- My Father Is The Worst Man Alive (And I’m His Favorite Daughter): After touring Wano, Yamato sets sail to see the world. His first stop: the grave of the friend he never got to know, the only person in the world who could understand the burden of being born of a monster, the pirate who gave him his first taste of freedom. Portgas D. Ace. It's been years since Yamato saw his vivre card go up in flames, but better late than never.
If this is something you would like to read, please let me know so I can motivate myself to write it. And if this is something you would like to write, please let me know so I can read it!
Conclusion after my first Whumptober participation: 11 stories. Not too bad, more than I expected, but the moment I realized I was allowed to sleep instead of continuing to write it was over for me. Overall it was a fun experience — for me, not for the characters — and the prompts gave me ideas I never would have thought of without it, so thank you @whumptober.
However! I will finish this challenge whether it is finishing the stories I already started or those that are not yet written. I am not giving up. My goal is to finish by the end of January considering that I have a big break for Christmas but nothing is guaranteed.
I leave you now the links of the stories that are already posted and I will update each time I post a new story.
DAY 1 & DAY 19: Every Day You Fight Like You're Running Out Of Time (Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester)
Sam gets lost in the forest. This action has consequences.
No. 1: RACE AGAINST THE CLOCK Search Party | Panic Attack | "If only we could hold on.” (Icysami x Renegaderr, Strangers.)
No. 19: BLOOD TRAIL Abandoned Cabin | One Way Out | "Is there anybody alive out there?" (Bruce Springsteen, Radio Nowhere)
Luffy relives the worst day of his life, over and over again.
DAY 2: Again. (Monkey D. Luffy)
No. 2: ALTERNATIVE Time Loop
Dean is going to die, Sam doesn't know what to think about it.
DAY 3: Did You Bring Me Some Pie? (Sam Winchester)
No. 3: SET UP FOR FAILURE Fingerprints | Wrongfully Arrested | "I warned you."
Law can't escape, even in his dreams. Especially in his dreams.
DAY 4: A Good Night's Sleep (Trafalgar D. Water Law)
No. 4: HALLUCINATIONS Hypnosis | Sensory Deprivation | “You're still alive in my head.” (Billy Lockett, More)
Luffy can stretch and stretch, but he can't escape his pain.
DAY 5: If My Pain Will Stretch That Far (Monkey D. Luffy)
No. 5: SUNBURN Healing Salve | Heatstroke | "If my pain will stretch that far." (Lottery Winners, Burning House)
Bobby is bleeding out, but family doesn't end in blood.
DAY 6: Blood On The Car Seats (Bobby Singer)
No. 6: NOT REALIZING THEY'RE INJURED Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms | Healed Wrong | "It's not my blood."
The heart of a demon, willingly given, is a powerful weapon for the one who wields it.
DAY 7: The Heart of a Demon (Crowley)
No. 7: ONLY FOR EMERGENCIES Unconventional Weapon | Magic with a Cost | "It's us or them."
Zoro can't sleep, ghosts come to keep him company.
DAY 8: Nightmares Don't Sleep (Roronoa Zoro)
No. 8: SLEEP DEPRIVATION Isolation Chamber | Forced to Stay Awake | "Leave the lights on." (Coldplay, Midnight)
Castiel is learning to be human. It hurts. In more ways than one.
DAY 10: Did It Hurt When You Fell From Heaven? (Castiel)
No. 10: BLOW TO THE HEAD Slurred Words | Passing Out from Pain | "I can't think straight."
No. 11: SEEING DOUBLE Convenience Store | Loneliness | “Leave no trace behind, like you don't even exist.” (Taylor Swift, Illicit Affairs)
DAY 11: Fade Away Into The Sunset (Sam Winchester)
No. 12: STARVATION Underground Caverns | Cannibalism | "Just a little more."
DAY 12: (Nico Robin)
The end of a crew. The end of a legend.
DAY 13: Till Death Do Us Part (Straw Hat Pirates)
No. 13: TEAM AS A FAMILY Familial Curse | Multiple Whumpees | "Death will do us part." (Set It Off, Partner's In Crime)
No. 14: LEFT FOR DEAD Hunting Gear | Blackmail | “Because I want you to know what it feels like to be haunted” (tiLLie, kooL aiD mAn)
DAY 14: (Shanks)
The cycle repeats itself.
DAY 15: The Father's Mistakes Fall on the Son's Shoulders (Dean Winchester, Jack Kline)
No. 15: CHILDHOOD TRAUMA Painful Hug | Moment of Clarity | "I did good, right?"
No. 16: NECROSIS Swamp | Wound Cleaning | "No, I can't feel anything."
DAY 16: Where Dreams Go To Die (Sanji)
No. 17: NOWHERE ELSE TO GO Ruined Map | Shipwrecked | "We had a good run."
DAY 17: In the Dark You Can't Tell Ink and Blood Apart (Nami)
No. 18: REVENGE Unreliable Narrator | Loss of Identity | “I see what's mine and take it.” (Panic! at the Disco, Emperor's New Clothes)
DAY 18: (Sabo)
No. 20: EMOTIONAL ANGST Shoulder to Cry On | Giving Permission to Die | "It's not your fault."
DAY 20: (Charlie Bradbury)
No. 21: BODY HORROR Body Horror | Tattoo Gun | Spirit Possession | “Let the bedsheet soak up the tears.” (Apparat feat. Soap & Skin, Goodbye)
DAY 21: D.E.A.T.H. (Trafalgar D. Water Law)
No. 22: BLEEDING THROUGH BANDAGES Tourniquet | Reopening Wounds | "Oh that's not good."
DAY 22: (Jack Kline)
No. 9: OBSESSION Broken Window | Bruises | “Frame me up on the wall, just to keep me out of trouble.” (Fall Out Boy, Irresistible) No. 23: FORCED CHOICE Public Display | Broken Pedestal | "I'm doing this for you."
DAY 23 (+DAY 9): The Hand That Saves Is The Same As The Hand That Wounds (Gabriel)
No. 24: RADIATION POISONING Collapsed Building | Equipment Failure | “I never knew daylight could be so violent.” (Florence + The Machine, No Light, No Light)
DAY 24: Embracing the Sun (Portgas D. Ace)
No. 25: SURGERY Stitches | Being Monitored | "It's for your own good."
DAY 25: Grit Your Teeth, Everything Will Be Fine (Sam Winchester)
No. 26: NIGHTMARES Breakfast Table | Parting Words of Regret | “I'm haunted by the lies that I have loved, the actions I have hated.” (Poe, Haunted)
DAY 26: (Claire Novak)
No. 27: VOICELESS Laboratory | Muzzled | “I have no mouth and I must scream.”
DAY 27: EX-FL02 (Portgas D. Ace)
No. 29: FATIGUE Labyrinth | Burnout | "Who said you could rest?"
DAY 29: Run Rabbit, Run (Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester)
No. 30: RECOVERY Hospital Bed | Holding Back Tears | "What have I done?" No. 28: ALTERNATIVE No-Holds-Barred Beatdown
DAY 30 (+DAY 28): When the Sun Dies, the Stars Go With It (Portgas D. Ace, Sabo)
No. 31: ASKING FOR HELP Therapy | Making Amends | "I'm alive, I'm just not well." (Elliot Lee, Alive, Not Well.)
DAY 31: The Hardest Things To Say (Dean Winchester)
I want everyone to know that this is me every time someone drops a comment on something I've written:
What is love you say ?
Love is my mom downloading the new Pokemon game to collect cards and trade them with my siblings as soon as the app made it possible. Love is the open invitation to my grand aunt's house with cats and chickens everywhere. Love is the lit candle and blooming flowers on my grandma's grave in the dead of the winter.
Love is a new comment on one of my stories or an update of one of my favorite fanfics. Love is rediscovering a song I listened to in middle school and still knowing every words. Love is sending each other reels saying "that reminded me of you".
Love is my sister calling me every time she sees a sunset so I can see it too. Love is eating ice cream with my brother while he complains about his teachers. Love is my mom listening to me talk about the latest book I read when it's late and we should really be sleeping. Love is my dad texting me every day during my exams to see if I'm okay or if I want to go home.
Love is taking pictures of my cousin who takes pictures of the rest of the family. Love is the picture of me and my childhood best friend that we both keep in our room even though we don't talk to each other as much anymore. Love is looking in the mirror and liking what you see for the first time in months.
Love is my friend who gives me the slice of pizza with the least amount of sand on it when we eat on the beach.
Love is my parents sharing a lemon tart every Sunday afternoon.
Love is my baby cousin sending us a letter with "i love you" written in every languages she knows.
What is love you say ? Love is waking up everyday and smiling to strangers in the street.
Love is to keep living even when it's hard because it's so worth it in the end.
Hot Girl Summer is reading soul-shattering fanfiction about dead gay wizards from the 70s.
I Will Carry You On My Shoulders To The End Of The Road — PART III: DREAMS
"Beckman?" Luffy asked weakly, his voice stuck in his throat.
"I'm here, kid," Beckman replied, relief relaxing his entire body. "I'm here."
Luffy clutched at Beckman’s shirt, his shaking hand clenched into a fist around the fabric and refusing to let go. Tears pricked Luffy’s eyes and his lips trembled. “I didn’t cry, I promise.”
“I saw that,” Beckman smiled, closing his arm around Luffy, enveloping him in an embrace. “But you can cry if you want to, especially if it hurts.”
“Good,” Luffy said shakily, tears streaming down his cheeks freely, “because it really hurts.”
“I know, you were very brave. How about we go back to Makino now?” Beckman asked, gently running his hand over Luffy’s back. “She’s very worried about you.”
Luffy nodded wordlessly and Beckman helped him onto his back, his head immediately coming to rest on his shoulder. Beckman set off, his stride long and steady, as Luffy wrapped his hands around his neck to keep from falling. The breeze blew gently, turning the large blades of the windmills along the path to the village.
In the distance, the sun disappeared behind the ocean horizon in a green flash, the moon already rising to take its place. For a moment, only the sound of Beckman's footsteps and Luffy's occasional sniffles broke the natural stillness of the night, a comfortable silence stretching between them. Luffy was not a silent child by any means but to those who knew how to listen, his silence spoke as much as his words.
Luffy leaned against Beckman, exhaustion seeping heavily into his bones and Beckman let him. The rock the waves came to rest on.
“Shanks is stupid,” Luffy finally said, his voice muffled by Beckman’s shirt.
Beckman chuckled, the vibrations of his laughter making Luffy laugh as well, albeit faintly. Well, it was a start.
“Nothing new here. But you know he cares a lot about you, right?”
Beckman felt Luffy nod, and even without seeing him, he could imagine Luffy puffing his cheeks in protest.
“It’s a lot of work being the captain,” Beckman continued. “So if you can, you should forgive Shanks for being stupid sometimes.”
“Why doesn’t he want me to come with you guys?” Luffy protested in a whiny voice. “I know I can’t swim, but I’ve been learning how to fight.”
Beckman hesitated for a moment, weighing his words in his head. Luffy, through his kid’s eyes, only saw the childish stubbornness that Shanks projected. And he was right in a way, but Beckman was the one who had found Shanks after Loguetown. He knew his captain.
But Beckman had been Shanks' protector for almost a decade, and that included his secrets. It was up to Shanks to decide what he shared with whom he wanted.
"Captain has his reasons," Beckman said instead. "And maybe he'll explain them to you one day, but for now, try to tell yourself that he wants the best for you."
"It's not easy when he spends his time making fun of me," Luffy retorted petulantly, before repeating. "Shanks is stupid."
"You'll just have to show him what he's missing by becoming a better captain than him when you grow up," Beckman replied amused.
They finally reached the first houses on the edge of the village and Beckman saw Makino in the distance, sitting on the steps of the bar, waiting for them to return. Shanks was with her, his arm around her shoulders, and looked up as he felt them coming.
"I'm going to!" Luffy declared loudly, straightening up and almost falling. "I'm going to become the Pirate King!"
"That's the spirit," Beckman complimented him.
DAY 10: Did It Hurt When You Fell From Heaven? (Like A Bitch)
Castiel is learning to be human. It hurts. In more ways than one.
Why is Castiel so hard to write? I have a lot to say about him and his character but he's so self-unaware that it's impossible to write. I love him but he's very frustrating. Fandom: Supernatural Character(s): Castiel Words Count: 1,317 Triggers Warnings: - Glaring Self-Esteem Issues - Minor Blood and Injuries (at the end) No. 10: BLOW TO THE HEAD Slurred Words | Passing Out from Pain | "I can't think straight."
The cashier sighed heavily and Castiel looked up long enough to offer a small, embarrassed smile before continuing to count the coins in his hand. The credit card Dean had given him had stopped working and was requiring Castiel to enter the PIN. But Castiel didn’t know the PIN, it was written on a post-it note and hidden in a book in his locker. He hadn’t had to enter the PIN in the few weeks since he’d left the Bunker and had simply used the “contactless payment” but now the “contactless payment” wasn’t working.
Embarrassed, Castiel set the money down in front of the cashier, the coins falling from his open hands like a waterfall and clanging against the metal counter. Behind him, the line continued to grow as the supermarket’s customers grew impatient in hushed tones.
“Is that enough?” Castiel asked.
“Dude, seriously?” complained the cashier.
With a glare, the cashier began counting the coins, much faster than Castiel could have. He was an angel (not anymore) , he had been an angel with all the knowledge of the world, past and present, but he couldn’t count a few coins.
Being human was much harder than he could have imagined. The world was both brighter and dimmer than it had been. He no longer heard the prayers of Humanity but heard the birds singing when dawn broke; he no longer saw the invisible forces of this world but saw animals forming in the clouds.
He also had to sleep and eat and wash and relieve himself and it never ended. It was exhausting .
The experience gave him a whole new appreciation for humanity—for Dean and Sam.
(Castiel didn’t know if he could do it.)
(Castiel didn’t know if he wanted to do it.)
A feminine hand rested gently on his shoulder and Castiel resisted the urge to fight or flee as his skin quivered from his shoulder to his heart (a blade cutting into his flesh, the buzz of a drill approaching his eye, the cracking of his bones under a punch) . Castiel calmed his pounding heart and turned, staring into deep green eyes.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” the stranger smiled. “Do you need help?”
“Oh no, it’s fine—”
“There’s not enough,” the cashier cut in impatiently. “Twenty dollars short.”
Humans only had two eyes, but Castiel could feel the weight of dozens of eyes on him, as heavy and terrible as the forces of Heaven. Castiel didn’t know until then that he could be embarrassed.
“Oh, I’ll go put some items back in then,” Castiel replied.
“I can take care of the difference,” the stranger intervened behind him.
Castiel didn’t have the chance to refuse, the cashier practically snatched the bill from the stranger’s hands and signaled Castiel to make room for the next customer. Castiel put his groceries in his bag and waited for the stranger, wanting to thank her and reimburse her.
“Thank you for your generosity, I can reimburse you if you so wish,” Castiel offered.
“It won't be necessary,” the stranger replied kindly. “You needed help and I was able to give it to you. A little help and kindness can go a long way.”
(Castiel couldn’t remember a time when he hadn’t had blood—that of his enemies and that of his friends —on his hands.)
(Castiel couldn’t remember a time when he’d been kind .)
“But if you want, you can help me carry my groceries to my car. I hurt my wrist last week,” the stranger explained. “My girlfriend’s going to scold me again for moving heavy loads.”
“Of course,” Castiel replied, carefully taking the bags from the stranger’s hands.
“Thank you very much,” the stranger smiled. “My name is Claire, I’d shake your hand, but it looks like your hands are full.”
“Steve, nice to meet you,” Castiel said, his throat tightening inexplicably.
But the hardest thing about his new humanity was the guilt , the memory of all the people he’d hurt. How did humans function when they felt so much? On the best days, Castiel felt like he was going to shatter under the weight of his emotions.
“Are you new around here?” Claire asked. “I don’t think I’ve seen you before.”
“It’s only temporary,” Castiel replied, knowing he was lying to himself.
(A part of him hoped Dean would change his mind, that he could go back to the Winchesters. But now that he was no longer an angel, he was nothing more than a burden, someone they had to protect and who would slow them down.)
(He didn't want to cause them any more trouble than he already had.)
(Dean had already been kind enough to give him enough money for the first few months.)
"I hope you like it here then," Claire said pleasantly, opening the trunk of her car. "It's a quiet but nice town."
"Thanks," Castiel replied, putting the groceries in Claire's car. "Have a pleasant day."
"You too Steve,” Claire returned the sentiment. “It was nice meeting you."
Castiel greeted Claire and left the parking lot towards the gas station. He still had time before his shift but he didn't want to be late. This job was the last thing he had in addition to being his place to live. He couldn't afford to lose it.
The sun was warm against his skin and a cat was lounging on the hot tarmac outside the supermarket. Castiel crouched down to pet it, a small smile forming on his face. The cat was grumpy, not appreciative of being woken up, and its scowl reminded him of Dean. Castiel pulled out his phone to send Dean a picture but changed his mind at the last moment. He didn’t want to bother him.
(He didn’t want to know if Dean would answer him or not. Probably because he already knew the answer.)
Castiel straightened up, the heel of his shoe digging into his damaged skin. Even walking hurted and Castiel didn’t want to spend too much money on bandages to cover his blisters. He just hoped he hadn’t bled through his socks again. He couldn’t vanish the blood off his clothes with a wave of his hand anymore.
(Humans were so fragile. Castiel wondered how they didn't die immediately.)
“Have a pleasant day,” Castiel said to the cat who curled up to resume its nap.
Castiel continued on his way, quickening his pace, and more than ever missed his wings. Not necessarily because he could cross the globe in a second if he wanted to—although that was very convenient—but because he couldn’t remember the last time he had flown just because he could.
(His wings had been clipped—by Heaven, by the Winchesters , by himself—long before his Fall.)
(His feet had not left the ground these days, not even in his dreams.)
(He had only himself to blame.)
.
He wasn’t the only one who thought that.
A sharp pain spread through his skull as a metal bar came down hard on the back of his head. Ears ringing in shock, Castiel dropped his groceries, his carton of tomato soup exploding as it hit the ground.
Castiel staggered, leaning on the wall to keep himself from falling. His head spun uncontrollably around him. He felt like he was falling off a building. But no one was there to catch him.
A warm liquid flowed from the back of his head to the back of his neck, his blood pulsing mercilessly in his temples. Silent tears ran down his cheeks as he fought back vomiting from the pain.
He couldn’t hear anything, he couldn’t see anything.
The pain clouded his vision, turning the world into a series of blurry, indistinct shapes. Every sound seemed distorted, like a distant echo, as terror began to overtake the pain.
Green eyes glowing menacingly were the last thing Castiel saw before he lost consciousness.
Dean.
Fun fact, the story with the credit card at the beginning happened to me when I was eighteen and got my first credit card (the part where I forget my PIN after only using contactless payment for weeks, not the part where someone pays for my groceries). So Castiel is going to experience my embarrassment too. Poor Castiel, he discovers that being human sucks. You have to sleep and eat and even worse you Feel Emotions. And that's not the worst thing that will happen to him later. Speaking of later, I have ideas in mind but given the number of stories I have to write, I think I'll only write it if you're interested. (Or in several months but it's not sure.) Let me know what you think.
oscillating between one piece and supernatural as my hyperfixation depending on the weather
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