Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Put me down, you creep!”

“Stop struggling, woman!”

Roronoa Zoro looked lazily to the side to see the wooden railing in front of his gaze. There was grumbling in his mind—it had been days since his last successful nap. Luffy and the rest of the nitwit crew had made sure that his naps on the deck of the ship were interrupted at every turn. He thought staying with the ship while the others were on shore getting supplies would mean getting some decent sleep.

I told you! It was not what it looked like!” This was a woman screaming, and there was a male Marine’s voice.

Oh—to Hell with it. Zoro’s curiosity was peaked if nothing else. Maybe there would be shut eye after the show. He stretched out to see the commotion. There was a man walking on the pier with a woman thrown over his shoulder—looking to be a classic case of a small man taking retribution on a woman with sense enough to reject him. Zoro put a hand on his katana.

“Yea, right, pirate. Don’t worry, lady. The whole of the Marines will be here in as little as 5 minutes.”

The woman tossed her head back and kicked her feet harshly. “I saw you. You have devil fruit powers, and you were stealing. At the very least, you’re a devil and a thief. I’m a Marine lady, I couldn’t in good conscious let you go.” There was a nasty smile on his face.

She let out a frustrated yell and made one last attempt to free herself. The woman kicked her feet up again and tried to twist them around his neck, which Zoro could see would have worked had the man not crushed his boorish arms around her waist. Her frustration became sharp pain until she stopped moving. He dropped her on her feet, and she held her side where blood seeped into the clothing there.

Zoro felt his teeth clench and his thumb touch the cool surface of the sheath but did not move.

This could be bad-

She leaned desperately against her abuser. Her hands clawed at his uniform—she abandoned any care for her wound and it bloodied faster. The soldier started to look uncomfortable now and he tried to no avail to keep her hand still. “You’re right, Marine. I’m no good. I’m a devil. I’m a thief…” Her eyes were darkened by the hair that fell over them, but it was easy to tell from her voice that something was happening. Zoro perched up on his elbows, but not enough to draw attention. The woman continued to cry. “I’m weak. I’m small-”

The clawing became violent, like she was trying to climb the man in front of her. The Marine looked confused—hell, Zoro was confused—if this was an escape attempt or a change of heart. Her ravings continued as she reached at his shoulders “-abandoned. I’m just a woman.”

Zoro was not familiar with women by any means, but he was positive that abused women rarely kiss their abusers. But the Marine fell backwards and pushed the woman off of him as she did just that. The samurai pirate watched as man and woman settled onto the wooden pier, waiting to see what would happen next, and by the look in the woman’s eyes, it was surely to be a spectacle.

Rather than stand, the Marine fumbled for his weapon, but it was stuck in his clothing. The woman rose and walked closer to the man whom she now towered over. “I’m this woman. And this one. Better yet, I’m also a man. And this one—and don’t forget this one.” Zoro wouldn’t admit it, but even a chill ran through his blood. The Marine looked frozen over. Where the woman was standing, was a person flickering in and out each time with a new face. Her hair—the structure of her face—down to the shape and color of her eyes. In the place of the woman stood a man with the same face as the Marine.

“A demon! She’s—It’s a demon!”

She laughed loudly, she sounded close enough to be on the boat beside Zoro. “A devil indeed.” The woman lost focus and oriented toward a noise. The noise was all to familiar to Zoro and it made him hunch in reflex.

Footsteps. Damn near fifty of them—all Marines swarming on a prize.

The pier was surrounded in a moment and all these men and women were armed. A lone figure parted the sea of white and blues. It was a tall man with a captain’s dress, but no loaded weapon. As the woman looked at her fate in the eyes, she didn’t begin struggling until the captain locked his hand around her throat and lifted her up. The pirate couldn’t breathe, but she looked at him with death in her eyes.

“Tybil,” the mortified Marine still on his ass, “What do you charge this woman with?”

Asshole, not yet recovered, said “Piracy, sir. And devil fruit powers.”

“Interesting. What powers?” The captain searched her face. Freckles faded in and out and her eyes where never the same color from moment to moment.

“The devil can change her face, sir. A woman one minute and a man the next!”

The pirate started gasping for a lack of breath as she spoke with a rueful grin. “So much. For. No. Kiss and tell.” As a final parting gift, the pirate spat in the face of the captain.

“It’s wounded, soldier. What happened?”

“A gunshot wound, sir.”

Damn, I’ve waited too long. If I had known there would be this much company, I would have cut the Marine down sooner. Zoro thought for a terrible moment that he would watch the superior Marine officer attempt to strangle the young woman. If that were the case, he would have to intervene publicly. That was the unpopular choice—

No. That’s too gruesome and called for too much documentation. He’s going to—

“I hereby sentence you, Changeling Pirate, to death for piracy and the assault of a Marine.” Everyone in attendance watched with horror in their eyes as a woman struggled against the iron grip of a man two times her size as he brought her to the edge of the pier.

The Sunny is parked close…This water is easily above her waist one hundred times over. She won’t be able to swim. Maybe that’s not such a bad thing—

“Sir, does she not get a trial—”

The captain didn’t look backwards as he spoke without mercy “A trial for a pirate that can change her face—if this even is a woman. Does it sound like a fair trial when a Marine testifies that a woman bested him as a man sits in the stand?” Her changing eyes started to close and her lips started to ashen. She stopped struggling.

The bastard dropped her and watched as her frame broke the surface of sea without resistance.

Zoro did not consider himself a bright man by many means, but he considered himself a reasonable man. He knew that devil fruit users were doomed in any sort of water, but he had to wait until these Marines cleared out or he risked the safety of everything he held of value. His life, the Thousand Sunny, his crew mates. The shape shifter lady would have to wait—he would dive in after her as soon as it was clear.

Many of the Marines stared at the bubbles rapidly popping at the surface of the water, but as their Captain, proud of his feats, summoned them as he passed, they walked after him. Zoro measured the distance with his eyes when a splash would not be noticed by the damn murderers. In his mind, the distance kept changing as his blush rushed.

The breath he drew in preparation began to wear thin and Zoro knew the Marines didn’t matter now. If he waited longer, he would be pulling a body out of the water, not a person. A new breath was all Zoro took with him as the rail left from under his feet and the drum beat in his ears were louder than the waves.  

Chapter Text

It was not the ending Angie imagined, but as the Marine Captain held her over the water, it seemed natural. She could feel the freckles on her face burning to the surface and then coolly retreating. Her devil fruit powers, though—both a blessing and a curse—were the furthest thing from her mind.

In fact, it didn’t feel like she could think of anything except the thin air passing through her lungs.

Angie started gasping for a lack of breath. Maybe it was the all-consuming rage, or the spite that fueled her, but she gave precious oxygen to utter her words. “So much. For. No. Kiss and tell.” It felt as though she had exacted some revenge. The Marine in his dress whites, soiled by the kiss of the one they struck down as foul. Sinful. Pirate.

The nasty Marine looked shamed. She felt satisfaction.

What she looked like—who she looked like—she could only guess.

The Captain talked about trials and fairness.

Angie knew all about fairness and the degrees that exist within. The gunshot that burned just above her hip bone didn’t feel fair and she imagined the salt water would make it even less so. The vice grip on her neck didn’t feel fair either, but the lives of pirates were not often fair. She had never held any delusion her life was meant to be fair. Was it fairness or just plain luck that the Captain’s lips looked totally uninviting? Her only line of defense in her state would be her shifting; however, the repulsion she felt for the person in front of her made it easier to deny that route of self-preservation.

Kissing the person locked on in confrontation, Angie found, was a guarantee in freaking the person out enough to slip away. Shifting her face to match that person, Angie found, was an effective scare tactic to show a monster its reflection. Today it seemed that would only damn her further. To confirm the testimony of the Marine would be certain death, but if she could pull some sympathy from the old man… it was her only hope.

That being said, Angie hung helplessly from her neck. Of course, the Captain would believe the story from his men more than he felt pulling at his heart string. Forming the word ‘please’ took more emotional energy than physical and she had long since run out of both. Begging for her life, even if she was a not a big-time pirate with a bounty, seemed worse than giving herself willingly to the waves.

A voice that rang from behind those unappealing lips stated her fate. It was in her nature to gasp factiously, but a hole in her gut and bruised windpipe had her literally holding her breath. “I hereby sentence you, Changeling Pirate, to death for piracy and the assault of a Marine.”

“…the assault of a Marine.” Now that’s a little ridiculous, even for the authorities.

Angie felt nothing and saw nothing as she fell. She only heard a horrific rip, but she imagined that was her breath returning to her lungs from the bent straw she still had for a windpipe. The chilled water comforted her with its ruthlessness, only because death came swiftly for people like her, in a place like this. Sea water forgave no one, certainly not those dealing with the devil’s fruit.

It was the suspension that held her like death’s hand and Angie decided she liked his grip better than the Marine’s. Peaceful and dark, she made a choice.

Angie, as she watched a simple piece of sea moss drift close, took a deep, joyful breath.