FIC: Take it Like a Man (One Piece, 30_wounds #4)
30_wounds : prompt table
A rather ironic take on this prompt because I wasn't quite sure how I was meant to be interpreting it. PG-13 for violence. Gen. 1200 words.
4. Take it Like a Man
--And the ground is suddenly back underneath him as he's slammed face-down into it. That hurts more now than it used to, although it doesn't hurt much; it'd hurt more still if he wasn't made of rubber, but Luffy is starting to get seriously mad.
He's fighting a giant rat Some stupid rat guy shouldn't be able to push him around like this! And, damn it, if his body would just stop tripping him up and falling short and working against him...
The end of the tail's still around his ankle, which means his chin hits the ground again when he tries to scramble away. Can't really blame his body for that one.
Stupid...
Before he can dig his fingers into the pink coils, the tail flexes and whips him up, and he's flying through the air again. His back slams into a crumbling stone wall, one of those stone ruins strewn all along the coastline here on this island. It doesn't hurt much, and at least his ankle is free. He slides down the wall, and bouncing up from a heavy landing, manages this time to get out of the way, so that rat-guy's rat-charge, in full animal form now, ends with a heavier impact than planned.
"Take that, stupid mouse!" Luffy shouts, stomping back to his feet. It's not over; his enemy is shaking his head and picking himself up, blurring back into a burly human.
Luffy stands, waiting, ready, glaring fiercely. He jerks his fist and thumps himself in the forehead, hard, once and then again. He has to get a hold of himself, damn it. He is not going to break out Gear Second or Third against a giant rat. Tail or no, this guy isn't Lucci. He's not even any of Lucci's friends. Even if he is a pirate captain who's taken his crew of thugs almost half the length of the Grand Line, this guy is just a greedy, ambitious jerk who got lucky. Less than a month ago, Luffy could've beat this guy in his sleep. The clawed marks across his arms and belly and the bite in his knee tell their tale of his difficulty now.
He raises his fists and they're shaking -- and it's not because he's afraid of the stupid, small-time brute he's fighting. It's the blows he's missed because his arms are shorter (not much, but a little bit shorter, and the difference of a few feet when they're stretched). It's the blows that didn't do the damage he expected because he's a little bit lighter. And it's the blows that never came close to landing because his body mass isn't balanced the same way it used to be, and his co-ordination sucks.
When rat-guy's face stretches into a grin more like a leer and he says, "You're tougher than you look," with that sly, slimy edge, the shaking turns to rage because he's so, so tired of assholes who say things like that.
"You're uglier than you look, rat-bastard," he growls back, and it turns into a roar as he charges, whipping his arms back and springing them forward again to deliver a bazooka punch that, this time, does land.
Except he's still not quite on balance, and can't dodge the tail that curls around his waist, so he gets dragged along when rat-guy crashes back, landing on top of the big man in a sprawl. "If there's a treasure on this island, it's belongs to me," Ratty growls. "Not some pansy crew willing to be led by a captain like you." Luffy struggles as beefy arms try to grapple, and clamps his hands around wrists he can barely span halfway, forcing them outwards. He butts forward, hard, with his head. The smack as his forehead crushes the other man's nose is loud. Close quarters is easier, he's still almost as strong, after all. It just has its other risks. He head butts again and the wrists in his grip go limp. He releases them and hauls back to bury a punch in rat-guy's face.
--Yells as the suddenly sharp teeth in the suddenly huge hairy maw close on half his arm; brings around his other fist hard and fast to make the teeth let go. "Bastard!" He's fighting slippy, greasy fur that he can't get any purchase on. Claws rip the front of his shirt and gouge four deep, red lines across the soft flesh of his chest. "Why, you--"
He reaches out with his bleeding arm, snaps stretching rubber fingers to coil around the hairy snout and seal closed the sharp jaw. He kicks upwards a stretching leg -- and it's a blow he uses to bring down buildings, so it should do to bring down a guy like this. His other hand is locked with one hairy paw, and there's nothing he can do about the claws that desperately shred his back until his rising, stretching foot reaches its limit and makes its descent.
Beneath, the ground cracks. Ratty coughs up a spray of blood. Luffy drags free and staggers and drips onto the sandy dirt, light-headed with blood loss. There's barely more than rags left of his shirt, two scraps hanging over each shoulder. He pants heavily for breath as rat-guy, glazed-eyed, lurches upright again as well.
Luffy sees red as he finds the focus of his enemy's eyes isn't really in the fight anymore.
He growls, and flings his hand back in his pistol punch, leaning out and pushing his centre of gravity to get the arm to fully extend. He glares at rat-guy, at the trance-like quality of his gaze, and as his fist reaches its limit and snaps into reverse, he yells furiously, "STOP... STARING... AT MY... CHEST!"
Ratty doesn't even try to avoid the blow, his eyes don't so much as blink... and as he keels over backwards like a discarded, flea-bitten toy, it's yet another fight that Luffy can't say he won on the merits of his fighting.
His arm jerks back to its usual length with a pop. He hisses as the stretched wounds shift, too many marks of teeth and claws. He looks down at his chest and baring his teeth at the sight, hunches and folds his arms across them, trying to to at least partially hide the bouncy mounds of flesh that he's still not used to. Then he trudges off through the ruins to find Zoro.
Zoro, when found, has a few scratches but looks mostly bored. He seems to have dealt with his opponent without any problem. He takes one look at Luffy and does that "GYAH!" thing that's becoming so familiar; drags his t-shirt off, pounces and bundles it desperately over Luffy's head.
A few minutes later, when the swordsman's got his nosebleed stopped and his skin colour's returned to normal, Zoro looks him over again, and winces for other reasons. "Shit. Luffy... you need to stop doing this. Damn it, look at yourself. You're a mess. You have to start remembering... you're not quite as strong as you used to be anymore."
Luffy freezes.
He slowly raises his eyes. He stares at Zoro. He says, very quietly, very low, "Shut up."
He doesn't know what Zoro sees in him right then, or what causes the misty distance and faint shock that passes behind his eyes, but the swordsman doesn't say another word on it. Not then, and not ever.
A rather ironic take on this prompt because I wasn't quite sure how I was meant to be interpreting it. PG-13 for violence. Gen. 1200 words.
4. Take it Like a Man
--And the ground is suddenly back underneath him as he's slammed face-down into it. That hurts more now than it used to, although it doesn't hurt much; it'd hurt more still if he wasn't made of rubber, but Luffy is starting to get seriously mad.
He's fighting a giant rat Some stupid rat guy shouldn't be able to push him around like this! And, damn it, if his body would just stop tripping him up and falling short and working against him...
The end of the tail's still around his ankle, which means his chin hits the ground again when he tries to scramble away. Can't really blame his body for that one.
Stupid...
Before he can dig his fingers into the pink coils, the tail flexes and whips him up, and he's flying through the air again. His back slams into a crumbling stone wall, one of those stone ruins strewn all along the coastline here on this island. It doesn't hurt much, and at least his ankle is free. He slides down the wall, and bouncing up from a heavy landing, manages this time to get out of the way, so that rat-guy's rat-charge, in full animal form now, ends with a heavier impact than planned.
"Take that, stupid mouse!" Luffy shouts, stomping back to his feet. It's not over; his enemy is shaking his head and picking himself up, blurring back into a burly human.
Luffy stands, waiting, ready, glaring fiercely. He jerks his fist and thumps himself in the forehead, hard, once and then again. He has to get a hold of himself, damn it. He is not going to break out Gear Second or Third against a giant rat. Tail or no, this guy isn't Lucci. He's not even any of Lucci's friends. Even if he is a pirate captain who's taken his crew of thugs almost half the length of the Grand Line, this guy is just a greedy, ambitious jerk who got lucky. Less than a month ago, Luffy could've beat this guy in his sleep. The clawed marks across his arms and belly and the bite in his knee tell their tale of his difficulty now.
He raises his fists and they're shaking -- and it's not because he's afraid of the stupid, small-time brute he's fighting. It's the blows he's missed because his arms are shorter (not much, but a little bit shorter, and the difference of a few feet when they're stretched). It's the blows that didn't do the damage he expected because he's a little bit lighter. And it's the blows that never came close to landing because his body mass isn't balanced the same way it used to be, and his co-ordination sucks.
When rat-guy's face stretches into a grin more like a leer and he says, "You're tougher than you look," with that sly, slimy edge, the shaking turns to rage because he's so, so tired of assholes who say things like that.
"You're uglier than you look, rat-bastard," he growls back, and it turns into a roar as he charges, whipping his arms back and springing them forward again to deliver a bazooka punch that, this time, does land.
Except he's still not quite on balance, and can't dodge the tail that curls around his waist, so he gets dragged along when rat-guy crashes back, landing on top of the big man in a sprawl. "If there's a treasure on this island, it's belongs to me," Ratty growls. "Not some pansy crew willing to be led by a captain like you." Luffy struggles as beefy arms try to grapple, and clamps his hands around wrists he can barely span halfway, forcing them outwards. He butts forward, hard, with his head. The smack as his forehead crushes the other man's nose is loud. Close quarters is easier, he's still almost as strong, after all. It just has its other risks. He head butts again and the wrists in his grip go limp. He releases them and hauls back to bury a punch in rat-guy's face.
--Yells as the suddenly sharp teeth in the suddenly huge hairy maw close on half his arm; brings around his other fist hard and fast to make the teeth let go. "Bastard!" He's fighting slippy, greasy fur that he can't get any purchase on. Claws rip the front of his shirt and gouge four deep, red lines across the soft flesh of his chest. "Why, you--"
He reaches out with his bleeding arm, snaps stretching rubber fingers to coil around the hairy snout and seal closed the sharp jaw. He kicks upwards a stretching leg -- and it's a blow he uses to bring down buildings, so it should do to bring down a guy like this. His other hand is locked with one hairy paw, and there's nothing he can do about the claws that desperately shred his back until his rising, stretching foot reaches its limit and makes its descent.
Beneath, the ground cracks. Ratty coughs up a spray of blood. Luffy drags free and staggers and drips onto the sandy dirt, light-headed with blood loss. There's barely more than rags left of his shirt, two scraps hanging over each shoulder. He pants heavily for breath as rat-guy, glazed-eyed, lurches upright again as well.
Luffy sees red as he finds the focus of his enemy's eyes isn't really in the fight anymore.
He growls, and flings his hand back in his pistol punch, leaning out and pushing his centre of gravity to get the arm to fully extend. He glares at rat-guy, at the trance-like quality of his gaze, and as his fist reaches its limit and snaps into reverse, he yells furiously, "STOP... STARING... AT MY... CHEST!"
Ratty doesn't even try to avoid the blow, his eyes don't so much as blink... and as he keels over backwards like a discarded, flea-bitten toy, it's yet another fight that Luffy can't say he won on the merits of his fighting.
His arm jerks back to its usual length with a pop. He hisses as the stretched wounds shift, too many marks of teeth and claws. He looks down at his chest and baring his teeth at the sight, hunches and folds his arms across them, trying to to at least partially hide the bouncy mounds of flesh that he's still not used to. Then he trudges off through the ruins to find Zoro.
Zoro, when found, has a few scratches but looks mostly bored. He seems to have dealt with his opponent without any problem. He takes one look at Luffy and does that "GYAH!" thing that's becoming so familiar; drags his t-shirt off, pounces and bundles it desperately over Luffy's head.
A few minutes later, when the swordsman's got his nosebleed stopped and his skin colour's returned to normal, Zoro looks him over again, and winces for other reasons. "Shit. Luffy... you need to stop doing this. Damn it, look at yourself. You're a mess. You have to start remembering... you're not quite as strong as you used to be anymore."
Luffy freezes.
He slowly raises his eyes. He stares at Zoro. He says, very quietly, very low, "Shut up."
He doesn't know what Zoro sees in him right then, or what causes the misty distance and faint shock that passes behind his eyes, but the swordsman doesn't say another word on it. Not then, and not ever.