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differentpostrebel · 3 months ago

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Lost and Found: A Pirate's Promise

The first gif cause Sanji is fine in this Gif, and the second gif adds to the story also lmfaooo

Chapter 28: A Dangerous Gamble

A/N: We are back at it again with another chapter! Don’t worry you guys I’m still creating that masterlist. But when I tell you the next chapters are cooking! Like we getting, all of the action. also Ive been seeing alot of edits on TT with these guys along with a few more I have in store and when I tell you I went FERALLLL!!!! Like someone hold me! Thank you guys so much for the follows, the likes, the comments, the interactions just everything! I cant wait for you guys to read what I have in store! But without further ado, let the adventure begin!

Word Count: 6.2K

Sanji X Reader, Sanji X Y/N, One Piece X Reader

Sanji POV..

“Yeah, we barely escaped, both the Navy and Doflamingo,” I spoke to Usopp via the transponder snail, my voice tinged with frustration. “Also, have any of you guys seen or even heard from Y/N?” My heart raced with worry.

“Wait, why? What happened?!” Usopp's voice cracked with concern.

“I lost her... and no one knows where she is,” I admitted, my hands tightening around the snail. “Doflamingo has something planned for her, and it pains me that I’m not there with her.”

Usopp’s expression turned grave. “We’ll find her, Sanji. We have to. Don’t lose hope.”

“I’m trying not to,” I said, “but it’s hard when I can’t even get a lead on where she might be. Every moment counts.”

“What's worse is we’re heading to Zou, so I won’t be able to kick some ass in order to find her,” I said into the transponder snail, taking a drag of my cigarette. My frustration was evident in my voice.

“What? Sanji, you’re not planning on leaving us here?!” Usopp’s voice came through, filled with alarm.

“Hold on a minute,” Franky’s voice interrupted, “What are Luffy and Law up to?”

As I was about to respond, I heard Franky’s question. “Zoro and Kinemon are outside the Colosseum trying to find Luffy so they can bring him up to speed. After that, they’re going to look for Y/N.”

“And Law?” Franky asked.

“Well…”

Law POV…

With the Sunny crew heading to Zou and the remaining Straw Hats carrying out their plan, I made my way to the bridge with Giolla. The blade was close to her neck, a constant reminder of the precarious situation we were in. My mind kept drifting to Y/N. I can only hope you are safe and far from Doflamingo’s grasp, I thought.

Footsteps echoed closer, the fog obscuring the figure’s approach. I tightened my grip on my sword, preparing for whatever was to come. As Doflamingo emerged from the mist, his mocking tone cut through the air.

“What’s the point in letting half of the Straw Hats escape?” he taunted. “The rest of them are still in Dressrosa. All I have to do is hold them hostage, and they'll hand me Caesar in exchange for them.”

“Many have underestimated them and paid the price,” I replied defiantly. “Do you really want to add your name to that list?”

“At any rate, my pirate alliance with the Straw Hat crew is coming to its natural conclusion. Do I have to spell it out for you? From the moment I met up with them, I was using them. They'll be destroying the SMILE factory, and as much as I want to revel in killing you, Kaido is going to do that anyway.” I retorted, gripping my blade tighter. “Beside, I want to make you pay for what you did thirteen years ago” I said, my anger evident.

“Make me pay... for what happened to you thirteen years ago?” “Come on, Law. Holding Giolla hostage isn’t going to change anything.” Doflamingo’s laugh was chilling.

“You're right. That’s not all you lost. With Caesar gone, you no longer have a hold on the SMILE factory,” I said, my voice dripping with contempt.

Doflamingo’s smirk widened. “My, you are still mad. Grudges aren’t good for your health, you know.”

“This isn’t a grudge,” I retorted, my eyes burning with determination. “I’m seeing his dream through to the end!”

With that, I launched a series of relentless attacks at Doflamingo. Each strike was fueled by the anger and frustration I felt

Sanji POV…

“You better protect my sweet Robin, understand, Usopp!” I said into the transponder snail, the urgency in my voice unmistakable. “And also, keep an eye out for my Y/N!” I added, as I took a drag of my cigarette. I hung up the call, letting out a long sigh. “This anxiety is killing me,” I thought, running my fingers through my hair. “Y/N could be hurt, injured, or worse…”

I shook those thoughts out of my head, trying to stay focused. “Is everything okay, Sanji?” Chopper asked, his voice filled with concern.

“I was just making sure that Robin is safe since she’s with Franky and Usopp right now. I wanted to let them know to keep an eye out for Y/N if they see her,” I explained, my voice tinged with worry.

“Okay, so if Kinemon and Zoro are with Luffy, that means they would need to find Y/N, right?” Chopper said, trying to piece things together.

“Well, knowing mosshead, that’s going to take 50 years, since he’s lousy with directions,” I grumbled. “Damn it! I knew I should have stuck with my gut and stayed.” I grabbed at my hair, a habit I developed when smoking didn’t ease my anxiety anymore.

“I’m awfully worried about Traffy and Y/N, though,” Chopper said, his voice low.

“Traffy is a big boy; he can handle it,” I replied. “Y/N, although I know she can handle anything, knowing what that creep wanted to do to her and what he planned on doing to her makes me sick.” I clenched my hands, the frustration and helplessness boiling within me.

Momo began recounting a memory he had of Doflamingo, but my mind drifted away to thoughts of someone who wasn't Y/N. “Ahh, why are you happy?!” he exclaimed, breaking through my reverie.

“Don’t worry, being taken hostage isn’t all bad, especially when it’s a beautiful woman doing it,” I said, swooning with a blush on my cheeks.

“You’re obviously thinking about something else; at least pretend to care!” Momo chided.

“That reminds me, Violet said she’d be okay too,” I said, as my mind wandered to our last moments together.

Flashback

“I’ll be fine. I talked to my friend, and I’m certain the government will protect me,” Violet said, as we rode the toy horse together.

“Really?” I asked, still concerned.

“Just trust me,” she said with a reassuring smile.

“Okay, I’d feel better if I could go along with you, but as long as you’re safe, I…” I started to say before Violet reached for my hand.

“You’ve done enough. How can I ever show you my gratitude?” she asked, her eyes filled with sincerity.

I blushed at her words. “Well, you could give me a kiss on the cheek, and then maybe a little kiss on the lips,” I said, my voice tinged with shyness.

With that, I felt the warm impact of Violet’s lips on mine. The kiss was soft but filled with gratitude. I was about to ask for more when Violet suddenly pulled away.

“Oh no, it would seem your ship is under attack by flying fish!” she exclaimed.

“What! What are those?!” I shouted, bewildered.

“No time; you must go!” she urged.

As I skywalked into the sky, leaving Violet behind, I headed back to the Sunny, the urgency of the situation driving me forward.

Flashback end

I sighed deeply, shaking the memory from my mind. “I hope Violet is okay,” I muttered.

Zoro POV…

Ten minutes before Y/N called…

“Hey!! I’m up here! You guys wanted to talk to me!” Luffy yelled, his voice echoing through the Colosseum.

“Luffy! Quiet down! We don’t want anybody to hear!” I yelled back, trying to keep my frustration in check.

Luffy laughed, clearly unbothered. “Wow, sorry! I was just happy to see you!”

“Ahh, so you met with the green-haired man. At first, I was apprehensive about trusting him, but he seemed quite eager to offer his assistance,” Kinemon said, his gaze scanning the area.

“Where is he now?” I demanded, trying to keep my focus sharp.

“I don’t know. He just, like, passed out…” Luffy said, sounding somewhat unconcerned.

“Passed out?! What the hell is wrong with him?!” I exclaimed, my frustration mounting.

“Hey, by the way, have you seen Y/N yet?” Luffy asked, changing the subject.

“Actually, yeah. She just called,” I said, trying to keep my tone steady.

“Really?!” Luffy’s eyes widened. “What did she say?”

“Something about her being safe and that she’ll call back in a few minutes,” I replied. “I’m worried about her, Luffy. She said she was chased down by three men block after block.”

Luffy’s expression shifted to one of concern. “Three men, huh? That doesn’t sound good. We need to find her as soon as possible.”

“I agree,” I said, my voice grim. Just then, a call from my transponder snail went through.

“Hello?! Y/N?!” I said urgently.

“Y/N?! Where have you been?!” Luffy’s voice crackled through the line, his grin evident even over the transponder snail.

“Hey, Captain. How’s it going? I was checking on your fight. I wish I was there to kick some ass too!” Y/N said, her laughter coming through, which was oddly comforting.

“Same here, Y/N,” I said, trying to keep my voice calm even though my concern for her was growing.

Y/N began to explain that Doflamingo had been tracking her since she arrived and that three men had been chasing her block after block. My rage spiked with every word.

“Where are you?!” Luffy demanded, his tone sharper than usual. It was one thing to mess with him, but to mess with his crewmate was a whole other story.

“Don’t worry, Luffy. I’m safe. I’m with…” Y/N said, but I couldn’t quite catch the last part. Her voice was muffled, and it sounded like she was with someone, but the connection was poor.

“I have a plan, but I want to ask your permission first,” she continued.

“What’s the plan?” Luffy asked, his focus entirely on the call now.

“I’m going to have Doflamingo take me to his palace,” Y/N said, calm but with an edge of seriousness that instantly put me on alert.

“Wait... AS IN KIDNAPPED?!” I yelled, my voice immediately rising. “ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR DAMN MIND?!”

“Yes, as in kidnapped,” she replied, unfazed. “I need to draw him away from the Colosseum. Once I’m in the palace, I’ll try to dismantle his operation from the inside. It’ll buy you guys time to get there so we can finish the job.”

“This is insane!” I snapped. “You’re not just walking into a trap—you’re running into it! How many things can go wrong here, Y/N? Do we need to pull out the list? You’re going up against a warlord who is psychotic, you could get thrown in a dungeon, or worse! And we won’t even know where you are!”

There was a pause, then Y/N responded with that annoying calmness. “I know the risks, Zoro. But it’s the only way to distract him long enough for you guys to make your move.”

Luffy, who had been quiet up until now, suddenly chimed in. “Y/N, this is risky, even for you...”

“I know,” she answered, her voice steady. “But I can do this. If I can get him off the streets and into the palace, it’ll give us the upper hand. You just need to trust me.”

“Trust you?” I scoffed, rubbing the back of my neck in frustration. “I trust you, but this plan is reckless even by your standards! Do you even know what you're up against?”

Another pause, and then Y/N let out a small laugh, which irritated me even more. “Zoro, I’ll be fine. Just make sure you guys get to the palace. I’ll be waiting.”

Before I could protest more, Luffy jumped in, cutting me off mid-sentence. “Okay, Y/N. If that’s what you want, we’ll trust you. But you better be careful! We’ll get there as soon as I figure a way out of this Colosseum.”

I clenched my fists, not fully convinced. “This is still a terrible idea... If anything happens to you, I’m coming to drag your reckless ass out of there myself.”

Y/N’s voice lightened, trying to ease the tension. “I know you will, Zoro. But you won’t have to. Just be ready when it’s time.”

The call ended with that, and I stood there, my frustration boiling under the surface.

“Damn it, why does she always have to make things difficult?” I muttered.

Luffy turned to me, his expression serious. “We gotta trust her. She wouldn’t do this if she didn’t believe it would work.”

I sighed, still irritated. “I don’t like it. But if Y/N’s already in, we need to make sure we’re ready to follow through. This is going to get messy.”

Law POV…

I struggled to stay on my feet, each breath feeling heavier than the last. The pain in my knees throbbed with every movement, but the thought of Y/N—captured, helpless—burned in my mind like a raging fire. I couldn’t let her be taken. Not her. Not after everything.

Doflamingo’s laughter grated on my ears, his voice full of mockery. “You look like you’re about to collapse, Law. Just how much longer do you think you can keep this up?”

I glared up at him, blood dripping from my wounds, but my focus was elsewhere—on Y/N. She was out there, trapped in his twisted web, and I was running out of time to save her. My hands tightened around my sword, trembling from the exhaustion.

“You can mock me all you want, Doflamingo,” I growled, my voice low but filled with fury. “But I’m not done yet. I’ll tear you apart before I let you lay another hand on her.”

But my body betrayed me. I could feel my stamina slipping away, the strength in my legs faltering. “Room!” I called out once more, though my powers flickered, weaker now. I felt my ability straining to stay active, but I refused to stop.

Doflamingo smirked, casually flicking away my efforts like they were nothing. “Pathetic,” he said. “But keep struggling, Law. It’s amusing to watch you crawl while I’ve already won.”

His words pierced through the fog of pain in my mind. I knew what he wanted—he wanted to see me suffer, to see me broken before he took Y/N away forever. The thought sent a surge of rage through me. I won’t give him that satisfaction.

I tried again, pushing my body to its limit. My sword swung, aiming for him, but Doflamingo dodged it effortlessly, almost playfully. His string bullets followed, slamming into my legs again, sending me crashing to the ground.

The pain was blinding, but worse than that was the sickening feeling of helplessness creeping in. I bit down hard, forcing myself not to scream, but I could barely move.

Then, his transponder snail rang, cutting through the chaos. I looked up through blurry vision, seeing Doflamingo’s smirk widen as he answered the call.

"Hello, this better be important," he said, his voice dripping with malice. The words that followed made my blood run cold.

"Sir, we got her… we got the girl, young master!" came the voice on the other end.

I froze, my heart pounding so hard it drowned out the sound of everything else. Y/N. No. This can’t be happening. She can’t be in his hands.

Doflamingo's laugh cut through me like a blade. "I knew she couldn’t run forever. Tied up nice and snug, is she?"

“Yeah, she is. She's tied up. Meet us at the Colosseum at the front, so you can take her,” the voice said.

Doflamingo’s eyes glinted with sadistic glee as he hung up. He turned to me, relishing in my helplessness. “You hear that, Law? Looks like your little princess is mine now. And you? You’re going to watch me take her. Let’s head to the Coliseum, I want you to see her all tied up, broken, and realize that you couldn’t save her.”

The weight of those words crushed me. Y/N. My breath hitched, my vision narrowing to a tunnel of fury and desperation. I forced myself to move, despite the pain, despite the exhaustion.

But unfortunately, Doflamingo launched one more attack, his strings cutting through the air with deadly precision, and before I could react, my body gave out and fell to the ground, powerless. As darkness crept in, the last thing I saw was his cruel smile, and the only thought in my mind was that I had failed her.

Zoro POV…

"Hey, mosshead! Any updates on Y/N?" Sanji's voice crackled through the transponder snail, sounding as impatient as ever.

I rolled my eyes at the snail, which mimicked his curly eyebrow expression. “Now you listen, curly brow…” I started, but then paused. “Actually, yes. She was able to get in contact with us.”

"WHAT? You did?!” Sanji's voice shot up an octave, panic immediately kicking in. “Is she okay? Did Doflamingo do something to her?!”

The transponder snail mimicked Sanji's frantic expression, and I could practically hear the others in the background, freaking out—Chopper, Brook, and Momo wailing in unison.

I sighed, trying to stay calm. “No, she says she’s safe. But…” I hesitated, knowing this was going to cause a scene. “She’s got a reckless plan.”

"RECKLESS PLAN?!" Sanji shouted, his voice nearly causing the snail to vibrate. "Mosshead, what did you say to her? Why didn’t you stop her?!”

“Tch, hey! It’s not my fault, curly brow! She decided this on her own!” I snapped back, gripping the transponder snail like it was his neck.

“Mosshead!” Sanji growled through the snail, his voice dripping with frustration. “What the hell is she thinking?! You didn’t just let her go, did you?! You know how dangerous Doflamingo is!”

I clenched my teeth, trying not to let him get under my skin. “She’s planning to go head-on with Doflamingo,” I said flatly, waiting for the inevitable explosion.

The transponder snail’s eyes widened comically. "SHE'S DOING WHAT?!" Sanji’s voice boomed through the receiver. "Why didn’t you stop her, mosshead?! Do you even understand what Doflamingo is capable of, what he plans on doing to her?!"

I gripped the transponder snail tighter. "You think I didn’t try? She’s as stubborn as hell you idiot! She’s doing this for a reason!"

There was a tense silence, only interrupted by the muffled sounds of Chopper and Brook still panicking in the background. Then Sanji's voice came through again, quieter but no less furious. “If anything happens to her, mosshead… I’ll make you regret not stopping her.”

I closed my eyes, feeling the weight of his words. “I know,” I muttered, my voice low. “But if it comes to that, I’ll be the one to cut down Doflamingo. I won’t let her fall.”

Before Sanji could respond, a deafening crash echoed in the distance. I snapped my eyes open, and the transponder snail mimicked Luffy’s frantic expression as his voice boomed through it. "Doflamingo! And Traffy!" he shouted. "What the hell is going on?! Traffy, why are you fighting Mingo?!"

We barely had time to process what Luffy was saying before we saw it. Doflamingo had his gun drawn, pointing it directly at Law.

Bang! The gunshot rang out, and Law’s body jerked back, blood spraying from the wound. “Damn brat,” Doflamingo growled, taking aim again.

Bang! The second shot tore through the air, hitting Law once more, sending him crashing to the ground. I cursed under my breath. “Not good!”

Just as Doflamingo was about to fire a third time, a sudden, blinding yellow light zipped through the chaos, cutting through the tension in the air.

"Get away from him!" a familiar voice yelled, echoing across the battlefield. The bright light morphed into a swift kick, slamming into Doflamingo’s chest and sending him flying into the nearby buildings. The impact was so powerful that the walls exploded into debris, raining down across the area.

As the dust and debris began to settle, a figure stepped forward, racing toward Law, who lay crumpled on the ground, barely clinging to consciousness. “I’m sorry, guys,” the familiar voice called out, softer now, filled with regret. “I was a bit late.”

The figure knelt beside Law, gently cradling his head, their voice trembling slightly. “I’m sorry, Law,” they repeated. “I couldn’t stop the first bullets... but I’m here now.”

As the last of the dust cleared, the blinding yellow light faded, revealing the face of the person who had saved him. My heart skipped a beat, disbelief and relief flooding through me.

"It’s Y/N!" I shouted, my voice filled with a mix of shock and relief.

Y/N POV…

As I watched Zoro and Kin'emon from my hidden spot, my heart raced with anxiety. I knew the odds were against me—this plan had a 95% chance of backfiring—but there was still that 5% hope, and I had to cling to it. My eyes flicked to the Colosseum again. “Sabo should be in there by now,” I thought, trying to reassure myself.

I reached for the two small hidden blades strapped to my sides, pulling them out as I remembered the lesson King had given me about these blades. His voice echoed in my mind, calm and mysterious.

Flashback…

“These blades, although they seem ordinary, can create quite a damaging effect,” he had said as he handed them to me.

I had stared at them skeptically. “So, what do they do?” I had asked, turning them over in my hands.

“They are meant to enhance your skills while helping you channel your abilities,” he explained, leaning back in his chair like it was obvious.

I had been frustrated by his cryptic explanation. “Well, how the hell am I supposed to use this?” I had muttered, annoyed that he was speaking in riddles rather than giving me straight answers.

He had simply smiled. “Once you channel all that energy, you will soon learn of their true purpose.”

End of flashback…

Now, standing in the shadows of the Colosseum, I gripped the blades tighter, trying to channel the energy within me, just as he had instructed. I could feel the familiar warmth building in my hands as a yellow light began to glow faintly around the blades.

Suddenly, a massive impact shook the ground, sending debris flying everywhere. I instinctively covered my face with my arms, the sharp dust and rocks pelting my skin. “Doflamingo must have arrived,” I thought, heart pounding in anticipation.

But when the dust cleared, my breath caught in my throat. Law. He was lying on the ground, bloodied and unmoving.

“Law?!” I whispered, shock and confusion hitting me like a tidal wave. "What the hell happened to the plan with Caesar? Did it fall through?"

The urgency of the situation took over as I heard two gunshots ring out, echoing through the air. Doflamingo had just shot Law again. My heart pounded as I saw him preparing to strike once more. Without thinking, I lifted my left leg, the yellow light around me intensifying, and dashed toward them.

"Get away from him!" I shouted, channeling all my strength into a kick aimed directly at Doflamingo’s chest. The impact sent him flying back, crashing into nearby buildings. Debris exploded across the area, shrouding everything in dust. As the light around me began to fade, I heard Zoro’s voice, full of disbelief.

"What the hell just happened?" he muttered.

Breathing heavily, I looked down at Law’s battered form. His lips trembled as he muttered broken words: "Cora... Y/N…" My heart clenched as I knelt beside him, cradling his head in my hands. My voice cracked as I whispered, "I'm sorry, Law. I wasn’t here in time to stop the first bullets... but I’m here now." The ache in my chest deepened, seeing him like this.

"Tell us what’s going on, please!" Sanji’s voice rang out through the transponder snail. I barely registered it as Zoro approached me, concern etched on his face.

“Y/N...” Zoro said, his tone more gentle than usual.

"What?! What’s going on?!" Sanji demanded again, his voice filled with panic as it crackled through the transponder snail.

Murmurs began to fill the air around us. I could hear the marine soldiers in the distance.

"She struck a warlord!" one of them gasped in disbelief.

"That’s Princess Y/N, she’s with the Strawhats!" another soldier pointed out, his voice trembling with both shock and admiration.

"No way... she actually landed a clean hit!" whispered another.

Kin’emon approached, bowing slightly in my direction. "It would appear that Lady Y/N has now arrived," he said, his tone filled with admiration and respect.

Before I could respond, Sanji’s frantic voice came through the snail once more. "Let me talk to her! Please!"

Kin’emon moved to hand me the transponder snail, but before I could take it, the sharp crack of a gunshot filled the air. My body tensed.

Doflamingo emerged from the dust, walking toward us slowly, a twisted smirk on his face. "My, my, that kick nearly took me out. I’ve got to hand it to you, princess," he sneered, his voice dripping with mockery. "I’m liking this side of you."

I stood up, my heart burning with anger. "Doflamingo…" I muttered, my grip tightening around my blades.

"Y/N, wait!" Zoro called out, his voice filled with warning.

"Y/N!" Law rasped, barely able to speak, his voice weak but desperate. “Tell me what’s going on?!” Luffy’s voice echoed from the Colosseum

I stared down Doflamingo, my mind racing. The tension was thick in the air, and everything seemed to freeze for a moment. Doflamingo’s smirk deepened as he approached, his voice laced with cruel amusement. "Princess, I was told you were captured, bound like a helpless little bird. It seems my subordinates were mistaken."

I grinned defiantly, reaching into the waistband of my skirt and pulling out a small momento I’d taken from the thugs. "Maybe you should hire better help next time," I said, tossing it at him. It struck his chest, and he glanced down, his amusement flickering into irritation.

"So, you’ve got some fight in you after all," he said, his tone mockingly impressed. "I thought you’d be running by now."

I held my ground, my fingers tightening around the blades, the faint yellow light beginning to glow again. "I hear you’ve been looking for me," I said, my voice steady. "Well, here I am."

Before he could respond, Luffy’s shout rang out from behind the bars. "Hey, Mingo! You’re gonna pay for what you did to Traffy!"

Doflamingo turned slightly, glancing back at Luffy with a smirk. "Law? That little brat used to work for me," he said, his voice dripping with malice. "Didn’t he tell you? Some ally you’ve got there."

My breath caught at his words, my gaze flickering to Law, who lay battered and barely conscious. But I couldn’t let this rattle me, not now.

Doflamingo’s attention snapped back to me, his grin widening. "Now, where were we? Ah yes... I was just about to capture you."

He moved forward, his fingers twitching as he prepared his strings. But I wasn’t about to let him think he had control. "Doffy," I said, smirking, "your subordinates—at least the one I knocked out—called you that. Funny, I thought you enjoyed the game of cat and mouse. What’s the fun in capturing me so easily?"

Doflamingo chuckled, clearly entertained by my defiance. "A game, is it? Alright, Princess, let’s play." His fingers twitched, strings flickering in the air. "But remember, I always win."

I clenched my blades tighter, the yellow light flaring to life. "We’ll see about that, Doflamingo. Let’s find out who’s really in control here."

I gritted my teeth, the glow from my blades flaring even brighter. "Kinemon, Zoro, get Traffy out of here!" I barked, my eyes locked on Doflamingo. I lifted my left leg, ready to dash toward him, determined to land a strike.

But just as my blade was about to meet its mark, I felt an immense force slam into my arm, redirecting my attack into the sky. "What the—?" I gasped, trying to react quickly, but the same weight crashed into me again, this time with enough force to send me flying into the Colosseum wall. The impact knocked the breath from my lungs, and blood dripped from the corner of my mouth as I slid down to the ground, stunned by the sudden assault.

"Y/N!" I heard Zoro shout, his voice full of alarm as he turned his attention toward me. The weight of everyone's gaze shifted to where I lay, struggling to get back on my feet, the air thick with tension. "Y/N!" Luffys voice cut through the chaos, a note of alarm piercing through as he turned his gaze toward me. For a brief, tense moment, it felt like time itself had slowed, all eyes converging on my injured form. "Are you alright?" Luffy’s voice, filled with concern, crackled through.

I struggled to rise, my body shaking with pain. "Yeah, Luffy, I’m okay," I managed to reply, though my voice was weak. "But what the hell was that technique?"

As I fought to regain my balance, I saw Zoro and Kinemon charging toward Doflamingo. "Pirate Hunter Zoro and Foxfire Kinemon," Doflamingo drawled, his tone mocking. "I also noticed that Momonosuke is unguarded aboard your ship." Kinemon’s face tightened at Doflamingo's words. "Don’t listen to that bastard! We would never let him take Momo," Zoro shouted, his anger palpable.

But before Zoro could strike, the blind man from before intervened, delivering a powerful blow that pinned him down. "Zoro!" I cried out, my heart sinking as the sight of him struggling to break free filled me with dread.

Doflamingo smirked, his eyes gleaming with malevolent amusement as he shifted his focus to Kinemon. With a swift, unexpected move, Doflamingo struck Kinemon, sending him crashing into the ground. "Kinemon!" I cried out, my voice trembling with urgency and frustration.

I struggled to push myself upright, clutching my sides where pain radiated. My grip on the blade tightened, the yellow light and electrical charge flaring brightly. "Hey, Doflamingo!" I called out, lifting my left leg. "Forget about them. This is our game."

Doflamingo’s attention snapped back to me, a cruel smirk spreading across his face. "Ah, my defiant princess," he drawled. "Your spirit is truly something to behold. Once I capture you, you’ll discover just how much fun I can have with someone as spirited as you."

"That’s what you think!" I retorted, gathering all my strength. I dashed toward him, using the momentum to leap into the air and aim a tremor kick at Doflamingo. But as I extended my right leg, it suddenly stopped in mid-air, restrained by an invisible force.

I gritted my teeth, trying to break free from the unseen grip. "What’s going on?" I shouted, my frustration mounting. Doflamingo’s laughter rang out as he floated up to my level, his presence imposing and taunting.

As I tried to attack with my right hand, still clutching the blade, another invisible force wrapped around my wrist, pulling it back. I struggled against the restraints, my heart pounding in my chest.

Doflamingo floated closer, his face mere inches from mine. His gaze was cold and calculating as he gently grasped my chin, forcing me to look directly at him. "So close, my princess. The power of the String-String Fruit is quite remarkable, wouldn’t you agree?" he taunted, his voice dripping with mockery. "It allows me to control and manipulate anything I desire." Doflamingo’s smirk widened as he stared into my eyes, his malevolent gaze unwavering. Slowly, he moved his hands from my chin, trailing down to my neck. His touch was cold and commanding, the invisible strings still binding me tightly.

"Ah, such fire," he taunted, his fingers tightening around my throat just enough to remind me of his power. "You really are a fascinating specimen, Princess. The way you fight against the inevitable, it’s almost endearing."

He leaned in closer, his breath warm and disturbing against my skin. "You see, my strings can control everything from the smallest details to the most grandiose displays. And right now, you're tangled in my little game. You're not just my captive; you're my plaything."

I glared at him, the struggle evident in my eyes. "I’m not done yet," I said, my voice resolute despite the pain. "I won’t let you win."

Summoning the last of my strength, I quickly maneuvered my free hand, still clutching the blade. With a swift, decisive motion, I cut through the strong bindings constricting my right hand. The strings fell away, freeing my arm. Without hesitation, I moved to sever the bindings on my right leg, slicing through them with precision. As I fell from the sky, my body propelled downward by gravity, I saw Zoro emerging from the debris, his face filled with determination.

“I got you!” Zoro shouted as he dashed forward, managing to pull me from the perilous height. He caught me in mid-air, his grip firm and reassuring as he guided me safely to the ground.“Thank you, Zoro,” I said, still feeling the tremors of pain as I tried to stand.

Kinemon hurried over, his expression a mix of concern and disbelief. “What’s a navy admiral doing with Doflamingo?” he asked.

My eyes widened in shock. “You mean to tell me that blind man is a navy admiral?” I asked, the revelation hitting me hard.

“Kinemon, is Y/N okay?” Sanji’s voice crackled through the transponder snail, filled with worry.

“Hey Sanji,” I said, trying to stay calm despite the sharp pain. “I’m okay. Sorry for worrying you.”

“Y/N…” Sanji’s voice choked up, filled with worry, but before he could continue, a sharp, searing pain tore through my left shoulder. I cried out, dropping to my knees as the pain overwhelmed me.

“DAMN IT!” I shouted, gritting my teeth, fighting against the agony. I looked down and saw blood trickling from a fresh wound—a bullet had struck me.

Doflamingo’s mocking voice echoed through the chaos. “Ah, look at you, princess. Already on your knees for me,” he sneered, his voice dripping with cruel amusement.

My eyes shifted to where Doflamingo was now holding Law,standing behind the Navy Vice Admiral, a smug grin on his face . “Don’t you dare!” Kinemon shouted, his voice filled with fear and frustration.

I managed to stand, determination burning in my eyes. "If he wants to fight dirty, then fine," I muttered, sheathing my blades. My body still ached, and the sting in my left arm reminded me of the situation’s urgency. Turning towards Zoro, I locked eyes with him. "There’s been a slight change of plans," I said quietly, still clutching my injured arm.

Zoro's brows furrowed. "What change of plans?" His hand was already on his sword, sensing something wasn’t right.

"I’m going to let Doflamingo capture me here." I leaned in closer so only he could hear. “I didn’t expect the Navy Vice Admiral to be involved, which complicates things. But the original plan stays. Capturing me here will still keep the plan in motion."

"Like hell it will!" Zoro snapped, his voice low but brimming with frustration. His grip on his sword tightened as if ready to strike. "You're not doing this alone."

Before he could make a move, I had already stepped forward, forcing myself into the spotlight. "Trust me, Zoro. We don’t have a choice."

“Doflamingo!” I shouted, trying to keep my voice steady despite the pain. “I thought this was our game of cat and mouse. Are you scared already?”

Doflamingo’s grin widened, his eyes glinting with cruel amusement. “Princess, such bravado. I must admit, I enjoy this side of you. It makes the victory all the more satisfying.”

As Doflamingo held Law like a puppet, I clenched my left hand, activating the power of my ring. I leaped into the air, raising my right leg, ready to deliver a powerful tremor kick. But just as I was about to strike, the navy admiral used his power to halt my attack mid-air. I was slammed back to the ground, crashing heavily into the dirt.

“Y/N!” Zoro yelled, his voice full of desperation. “Hold on! I’m coming!”

I struggled to rise. The air around me grew heavy, and invisible strings began to wrap around my body, lifting me off the ground. Doflamingo’s laughter echoed around us, cold and mocking.

“Wake up, Sir Law! Lady Y/N, are you alright?” Kinemon shouted, his voice filled with panic.

“Are you kidding me!” Zoro shouted in frustration, his voice crackling with anger and fear.

Doflamingo’s voice carried a sinister edge as he spoke to Fujitora. “Let’s take this conversation back to the palace. There’s much to discuss, and I’m eager to see how this little game ends.”

As Doflamingo’s strings tightened around me, I came face to face with him once more. His grip was unyielding, the pressure making it hard to breathe. I met his gaze, and despite the pain, a smirk formed on my lips. “Phase 1 of the plan is complete,” I thought to myself as the world around me started to darken.

As I began to slip in and out of consciousness, the smirk on my face remained, a silent declaration of our progress.

Zoro, visibly frustrated, prepared to make another move. But before he could act, the navy forces readied their weapons, their presence creating an impenetrable barrier. Doflamingo’s laughter filled the air, mocking and cold. “Look at that,” he said, his voice dripping with malice. “It seems your friends are in quite the predicament, princess.”

I fought against the strings, trying to regain some control, but it was futile. Doflamingo stepped closer, his face twisted into a sinister grin. “I’m going to savor this. I plan to enjoy every moment of it.”

As I was lifted away, the last thing I heard was Kinemon’s determined voice cutting through the chaos. “Both Sir Law and Lady Y/N have been seized.” The words lingered in my mind as consciousness began to slip away, leaving me with a mix of defiance and resignation.

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sassenach77yle · 2 months ago

Text

||COUNTDOWN ||SEASON 5 EPISODE 10 || MERCY SHALL FOLLOW ME||

#83daysofoutlander☆

July 10, 1776 THE

TIDE TURNED FROM THE EBB just before five o’clock in the morning. The sky was fully light, a clear pale color without clouds, and the mudflats beyond the quay stretched gray and shining, their smoothness marred here and there by weed and stubborn sea grass, sprouting from the mud like clumps of hair. Everyone rose with the dawn; there were plenty of people on the quay to see the small procession go out, two officers from the Wilmington Committee of Safety, a representative from the Merchants Association, a minister carrying a Bible, and the prisoner, a tall, wide-shouldered figure, walking bare-headed across the stinking mud. Behind them all came a slave, carrying the ropes. “I don’t want to watch this,” Brianna said under her breath. She was very pale, her arms folded over her middle as though she had a stomachache. “Let’s go, then.” Roger took her arm, but she pulled back. “No. I have to.” She dropped her arms and stood straight, watching. People around them were jostling for a better view, jeering and catcalling so loudly that whatever was said out there was inaudible. It didn’t take long. The slave, a big man, grabbed the mooring post and shook it, testing for steadfastness. Then stood back, while the two officers backed Stephen Bonnet up to the stake and wrapped his body with rope from chest to knees. The bastard wasn’t going anywhere. Roger thought he should be searching his heart for compassion, praying for the man. He couldn’t. Tried to ask forgiveness, and couldn’t do that, either. Something like a ball of worms churned in his belly. He felt as though he were himself tied to a stake, waiting to drown. The black-coated minister leaned close, his hair whipping in the early morning breeze, mouth moving. Roger didn’t think that Bonnet made any reply, but couldn’t tell for sure. After a few moments, the men doffed their hats, stood while the minister prayed, then put them on again and headed back toward shore, their boots squelching, ankle-deep in the sandy mud. The moment the officials had disappeared, a stream of people poured out onto the mud: sightseers, hopping children—and a man with a notebook and pencil, who Roger recognized as Amos Crupp, the current proprietor of the Wilmington Gazette.“Well, that’ll be a scoop, won’t it?” Roger muttered. No matter what Bonnet actually said—or didn’t—there would undoubtedly be a broadsheet hawked through the streets tomorrow, containing either a lurid confession or mawkish reports of remorse—perhaps both. “Okay, I really can’t watch this.” Abruptly, Brianna turned, taking his arm. She made it past the row of warehouses before turning abruptly to him, burying her face in his chest and bursting into tears. “Ssh. It’s okay—it’s going to be all right.” He patted her, tried to infuse some conviction into the words, but his own throat had a lump in it the size of a lemon. He finally took her by the shoulders and held her away from him, so that he could look into her eyes. “Ye don’t have to do it,” he said. She stopped crying and sniffed, wiping her nose on her sleeve like Jemmy—but wouldn’t meet his eyes. “It’s—I’m okay It’s not even him. It’s just—just everything. M-Mandy”—her voice wavered on the word—“and meeting my brother—Oh, Roger, if I can’t tell him, he’ll never know, and I’ll never see him or Lord John again. Or Mama—” Fresh tears overwhelmed her, welling up in her eyes, but she gulped and swallowed, forcing them back. “It’s not him,” she said in a choked, exhausted voice. “Maybe it’s not,” he said softly. “But ye still don’t have to do it.” His stomach still churned, and his hands felt shaky, but resolution filled him.

“I should have ki || ed him on Ocracoke,” she said, closing her eyes and brushing back strands of loosened hair. The sun was higher now, and bright.

“I was a coward. I th-thought it would be easier to let—let the law do it.”

She opened her eyes, and now did meet his gaze, her eyes reddened but clear. “I can’t let it happen this way, even if I hadn’t given my word.”

Roger understood that; he felt the terror of the tide coming in, that inexorable creep of water, rising in his bones. It would be nearly nine hours before the water reached Bonnet’s chin; he was a tall man. “I’ll do it,” he said very firmly. She made a small attempt at a smile, but abandoned it. “No,” she said. “You won’t.” She looked—and sounded—absolutely drained; neither of them had slept much the night before. But she also sounded determined, and he recognized Jamie Fraser’s stubborn blood. Well, what the hell—he had some of that blood, too. “I told ye,” he said. “What your father said, that time. ‘It is myself who ki. ||s for her.’ If it has to be done”—and he was obliged to agree with her; he couldn’t stand it, either—“then I’ll do it.”

She was getting a grip on herself. She wiped her face with a fold of her skirt, and took a deep breath before meeting his eyes again. Hers were deep and vivid blue, much darker than the sky “You told me. And you told me why he said that, too—what he said to Arch Bug: ‘There is a vow upon her.’ She’s a doctor; she doesn’t kill people.” The hell she doesn’t, Roger thought, but better judgment prevented his saying so. Before he could think of something more tactful, she went on, placing her hands flat on his chest. “You have one, too,” she said. That stopped him cold. “No, I haven’t.” “Oh, yes, you do.” She was quietly emphatic. “Maybe it isn’t official yet—but it doesn’t need to be. Maybe it doesn’t even have words, the vow that you took—but you did it, and I know it.” He couldn’t deny it, and was moved that she did know it. “Aye, well . . .” He put his hands over hers, clasping her long, strong fingers. “And I made one to you, too, when I told ye. I said I would never put God before my—my love for you.” Love. He couldn’t believe that he was discussing such a thing in terms of love. And yet, he had the queerest feeling that that was exactly how she saw it. “I don’t have that sort of vow,” she said firmly, and pulled her hands out of his. “And I gave my word.” She had gone with Jamie after dark the night before, to the place where the pirate was being held. Roger had no idea what sort of bribery or force of personality had been employed, but they had been admitted. Jamie had brought her back to their room very late, white-faced, with a sheaf of papers that she handed over to her father. Affidavits, she said; sworn statements of Stephen Bonnet’s business dealings with various merchants up and down the coast. Roger had given Jamie a murderous look, and got the same back, with interest. This is war, Fraser’s narrowed eyes had said. And I will use any weapon I can. But all he had said was, “Good night, then, a nighean,” and touched her hair with tenderness before departing. Brianna had sat down with Mandy and nursed her, eyes closed, refusing to speak. After a time, her face eased from its white, strained lines, and she burped the baby and laid her sleeping in her basket. Then she came to bed, and made love to him with a silent fierceness that surprised him. But not as much as she surprised him now. “And there’s one other thing,” she said, sober and slightly sad. “I’m the only person in the world for whom this isn’t mu. r. der.”

With that, she turned and walked away fast, toward the inn where Mandy waited to be fed. Out on the mudflats, he could still hear the sound of excited voices, raucous as gulls.

AT TWO O’CLOCK in the afternoon, Roger helped his wife into a small rowboat, tied to the quay near the row of warehouses. The tide had been coming in all day; the water was more than five feet deep. Out in the midst of the shining gray stood the cluster of mooring posts—and the small dark head of the pirate. Brianna was remote as a pagan statue, her face expressionless. She lifted her skirts to step into the boat, and sat down, the weight in her pocket clunking against the wooden slat as she did so. Roger took up the oars and rowed, heading toward the posts. They would arouse no particular interest; boats had been going out ever since noon, carrying sightseers who wished to look upon the condemned man’s face, shout taunts, or clip a strand of his hair for a souvenir. He couldn’t see where he was going; Brianna directed him left or right with a silent tilt of her head. She could see; she sat straight and tall, her right hand hidden in her skirt. Then she lifted her left hand suddenly, and Roger lay on the oars, digging with one to slew the tiny craft around. Bonnet’s lips were cracked, his face chapped and crusted with salt, his lids so reddened that he could barely open his eyes. But his head lifted as they drew near, and Roger saw a man ravished, helpless and dreading a coming embrace—so much that he half welcomes its seductive touch, yielding his flesh to cold fingers and the overwhelming kiss that steals his breath.

“Ye’ve left it late enough, darlin’,” he said to Brianna, and the cracked lips parted in a grin that split them and left blood on his teeth. “I knew ye’d come, though.”

Roger paddled with one oar, working the boat close, then closer. He was looking over his shoulder when Brianna drew the gilt-handled pistol from her pocket, and put the barrel to Stephen Bonnet’s ear.

“Go with God, Stephen,” she said clearly, in Gaelic,

and pulled the tri. gg€r.

Then she dropped the gun into the water and turned round to face her husband. “Take us home,” she said.

117SURELY JUSTICE AND MERCY SHALL FOLLOW ME~ A breath of snow and ashes

#outlander #the frasers #outlanderedit #outlander starz #outlander series #outlander fanart #sophie skelton #brianna mackenzie #roger mackenzie #stephen bonnet #outlander season 5 #outlander books #outlander book #outlander 5x10

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l-lend · 2 years ago

Note

Hello! I was wondering if I could request The Bad Batch Crosshair x fem!reader and the following needing comfort prompts for Crosshair:

“This is stupid--I’m stupid.”

“I-- please, help.”

“I can’t breathe, I don’t know what to do-- I can’t--“

"Am I really worth it?"

Like Crosshair is struggling with his feelings for the reader and they go on a mission and it goes wrong somehow and reader is trying to help him? I'm alright with lots of angst as long as there's light at the end of the tunnel 😅

Alrighty, I hit 2 out of the 4 quotes, but hopefully you enjoy this. I took a bit of liberty with the kind of mission as well. Anyway, here we go.

Warning(s): angst, descriptions of the ugly side of war and combat

“CT-9904”

The lithe clone glanced to his supervisor. His helmet concealing his boredom only presenting an expressionless gaze.

“Scout ahead and see if you can get eyes on the insurgent camp.”

He wordlessly plucked up his rifle. A bag of supplies already slung along his back.

“Take the medic with you. We'll fall back to your over watch position once we're done.”

The sniper never slowed his strides, but the footsteps trailing behind him was all the reassurance he needed. The usual stations for the squad during deployment. So much so that the medic was deemed his unofficial battle buddy during those long stretches of staring down a scope. Two of her strides equated to one of his. This proved to be bothersome during longer hikes, yet the medic adjusted her pace.

“Head still bothering you?” She asked once the pair were out of earshot.

The sniper gave a grunt.

“I know your eyes bother you some times. I can keep watch if you needed some down time.”

No response.

They traversed the terrain in near silence. The crunch of foliage underfoot being the only reassurance that the medic did not fall behind.

“Not much further.” The clone trooper announced through the modulator of his helmet.

The over watch position was mostly shrouded in shrubs and brush. The trooper dumped his bag on the forest floor to take up his prone post. The medic remained near the tree line and began setting up her casualty collection point in case troopers returned with any injuries.

She huffed a sigh as she doffed her TK helmet. The armor doing nothing but trap the heat and sweat to her form. The label within the helmet's brim listing her designation, TK - 0410, doing its worst at rubbing against her skin. Thankfully not yet breaking the skin.

Her gaze fell to the sniper.

“9904?”

Her only answer was the adjusting of his rifle.

“I'm..kinda glad you got assigned to us again.”

“Your squad mates not giving you enough to do?”

“Oh no, nothing like that. I just...it's nice to see that you were okay after your last mission.”

A huffed whispered past the sniper's lips. A hollow pang gripped his chest. A sensation that was a familiar prick to remind him that a mission had not claimed him just yet. Their comm links squawked to life.

“Alpha in position.” One team leader stated.

A smile tugged at her lips.

“Show time.” She murmured, flipping open her pack to keep her bacta patches within reach.

“Copy.” The sniper replied, lowering his range finder.

“Bravo moving.” stated another TK's voice over comms.

The pair on over watch waited in silence until the first explosion sounded. Smoke billowed up from the foliage giving away the teams' positions. Another rumble sounded in the distance.

Their comms roared with garbled traffic. Both team leaders seemingly stepping on and scrambling over each other. All information slurring together to fuse into one message: help.

“9904, 0410, switch to alternate channel.” barked the squad leader.

The medic's features creased. Why of all the times of radio silence why was it now appropriate to switch channels now. Her fingers fussed with internal knob in your helmet soon finding the frequency.

“0410 checking in.”

“9904 checking in.”

“Continue mission and push into the insurgent camp. Alpha and bravo will continue with the feint.”

Her heart dropped into her stomach. These were your comrades. You trained most if not all of them in first aid. Something that would not do any good if they were now gnashed meat in the forest.

She snatched up her bag and made a path for the smoke pillar. Something held her back after only a couple of steps.

“Let go.”

“This isn't your part to play,” He drawled, “We're finishing the mission.”

She jerked her arm free, “Fuck the mission those troopers need help.”

The glare you leveled at him could have easily melted durasteel. In that brief connection, something within the sniper snapped as his hand returned limply to his side.

“You care for them.”

“You damn right I do.”

No words uttered after that. The comms static maintaining a steady hum. Her gaze set in a hard line. That same gaze he had seen before but in different faces. He sighed.

“Be quick then we're back on mission.”

It was a small miracle she did not lose her footing as the pair descended into the fray. The stench of burning plastoid and bio brought bile rising from her stomach the closer they trekked to the smoke pillar. A groan from the shrubs announced her first patient.

“I - -please, help.”

Muscle memory from hours of training allowed her mind to wander. The faint hint of bacta hit the air, however once the patch was smoothed on, the trooper was still. The medic's brain and fingers scrambling.

“No, no, no. Come on.” She prayed, gloves stained crimson with each attempt at getting a pulse.

The sniper studied her. A weight sitting heavy in his chest as her efforts grew more futile.

“He's gone.”

“No he's not. I can still save 'im.”

A rough modulated exhale eased from his throat as his facade cracked. He flicked over the previous channel. Static reigned.

The medic's hands stilled; Her breaths coming out in haggard rasps. A vice in her chest tightening.

“I can't breathe,” Her visor locked on her stained hands, “I don't know what to do- - I can't - -”

His movements were swift. Helmet met the ground with a dull thud. His slender digits hooking under the lip of her own helmet. Their eyes met. His tone measured.

“We're moving out. Now.”

The medic straightened up as soon as his fingers retreated. She attempted to read his expression, but he was quick to shroud himself in his helmet once more.

The silence that was once welcomed between them now made the sniper's skin prickle and itch. This had to be part of the plan. Then, why was it a surprise to the team leaders? They were panicked. Was this what Commander Cody meant about living with decisions?

The pair picked up their pace heading deeper into the foliage.

“9904,” She spoke up, “We're...not going towards the objective?”

“Crosshair.”

“Wha-”

“My name,” He replied without turning back.

The corners of her mouth curled.

“Well, where are we heading, Crosshair?”

“Anywhere but here unless you want to join the fodder.”

His arm abruptly shot out capturing her as he inched them behind a large tree. His gaze trained on the edge of a clearing. A tense eternity stretched as they remained hidden. His fingers wrapped around her wrist. It may have been a nervous tic or perhaps a mute signal, but his trigger finger ghosted along her wrist. The digit gracing her pulse.

“Stay close.”

#crosshair x reader #tbb crosshair #medic reader #tk trooper reader

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stoopystuppy · 2 years ago

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PLEASE IM RIGHT BEHIND YOU DW 🏃‍♂️🏃‍♂️🏃‍♂️ 💀💀💀

all the drawings from today's aggie board thanks for joining you guys!! ahhh i love everyones art sm

(my page!! ^)

( @hotdof-notdof slaying away with the ship art ^)

( @rotten-debzee idk guys i think they like chansaw /sarcastic)

(@kureome1 also joined us!! p.s. im not sure if you wanted me to post that sketch !)

btw they died, r.i.p 😭 🕊

PLEASE GO FOLLOW THEM IF U DON'T ALREADY!! their art is *chef's kiss*

#dof replies

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measlyfurball13 · 2 months ago

Text

Omnes Affectus Valetis

Summary: four Marines reflect on the paths they've chosen.

2445 words.

There is a part of this Marine that understands what he is doing is wrong.

A vague twinge, sometimes, beneath his chestplate. Times where the blood seeps into his boots. Something in a symbol glints the wrong way, and the fraction of his mind that it still evolved from an animal thinks to tremble before it.

But that is before his friends grab his shoulderplates and pull him back to the dropship, jostling him against his brothers where they slam their helmets together. The impact, skull-to-skull, jolts his mind clear of any such worries.

And when they return to the ship, there is revelry. The clinking of glasses, the throwing of food- when he takes his helmet off, someone shoves something into his mouth, juicy and savory and succulent. And he laughs, some of the juice spilling out of his mouth and onto his armor, but that’s alright.

He walks further into the grand interior hall. Some of his fellow brothers from the mission have already doffed the parts of their armor that are easy to pry off, and if anyone needs help dozens of hands are willing to oblige. There’s musicians playing on a makeshift stage against the far wall- one of his brother’s ideas, constructed from spare materials from the previous campaign -and as they see the returning squad, the musicians stand with a cheer.

Played on hand-stringed bows and hand-carved horns, and on the one organ that’s still sort of working, thanks to some luck and a prayer, the music swells to a fast-paced swing. Couples push themselves from the table and begin to dance, the women far too small for his brothers’ arms yet they try anyway. One slips, finds her leg beneath the boot of her partner, and her shin shatters. She laughs. She’s alright, already swept off her feet by a brother, off to the medical wing.

The Marine is tired from the mission and he sits down at the table. Someone hands him a mug and he drinks it. Sweet, metallic, with a lingering finish.

“How are you faring?” A voice asks to his left.

He turns to find an elder brother from another squadron and he replies. “Quite alright!”

“Thirsty, I wager! Drink up, drink up, be glad that you’re alive.” The elder pushes the mug towards his chin with a smile. “But do know that you can tell us anything should you need.”

“I appreciate it,” He takes another swig from his mug and grasps the elder’s shoulder, giving a little shake, “but with your concern, all is well.”

“Good, good! Now go enjoy. There’s women, you know.”

“I know, I’ve seen them.”

“Then go say hello!”

A brother walks by with his wife on his arm. She’s been broken many times, but the red lines of the repair work make her complexion even more fetching in the dim light. She’s laughing, probably at something her husband has said, as he leads her off the dance floor and disappears into the hallways beyond.

“I think I’ll just enjoy the view for tonight.” The Marine replies to the elder. “It’s good to be home.”

“Never forget what we fight for.” The elder concurs. He then stands and leers over to another plate laid just out of reach on the table and adds more to his plate.

The Marine finishes his mug before standing; he weaves between dancers and revelers to the edge of the ballroom, where some of his more quiet brothers are standing. They give him a nod, as they too understand. A brother breaks down crying at the center of the dance floor, his mind so overwhelmed with emotion that he must let it out. Immediately he is swarmed by comforting hands, and through the effort of the crowd he is passed off to the quieter end of the hall where he may recover.

The Marine takes one last look upon the scene before departing the room. He is tired. The armorer is first, who makes quick work of the plating attached to him. An old injury of his acts up as the plating is removed, spilling from his side; the armorer deftly presses it back in and staples it together.

“It’s a gift that keeps on giving.” The armorer says. “Rather. . . interdepartmental.”

“A blessing from another chapter.” The Marine replies halfheartedly.

“Indeed.”

And the armor is off; he is free to enter his quarters. He dims the lights, straightens his favorite bookshelf, and approaches the bathroom mirror.

There’s something on his face he doesn't remember being there before. Red, throbbing, angry. He pokes and prods at it before his mental clarity zaps into his mind. This is the mark of those who saved him, the circled star, pointing in every direction that he may go if he so chooses.

He falls against his bed in prayer, thanking the gods who took him from the Imperium and showed him what it was like to feel again. It was worth every price.

II.

A lifetime ago, this Marine would be late for the ceremony.

And as he rushes into the prayer hall, that same acute sense of shame radiates from him, spilling into the air like a thick smog, he’s sure of it. He knows there’s no punishment, but it was never the punishment that bothered him; only the perception of failure glinting in the eyes of every commander he looked up to.

But when it is his turn to kneel down in front of the statue of his god, he finds no eyes at all. Only a mouth, curved into a soft smile. A sweet air spills from its lips, cradling his face. He breathes it in. The sharp edges in his mind begin to dull.

The part of him that still remembers looks over his shoulder. He’s the last to the altar, and his brothers are waiting on him to finish. But before he can stand, a brilliant shimmer erupts from the statue’s skin.

Rest, it tells him. There is always time.

He presses his face against the statue. It’s soft and cold, soothing the heat of shame from his face.

“Sometimes I worry.” He whispers into the statue’s skin. “That I do not deserve this.”

My gift is for everyone, the statue whispers back, no matter how long it takes to spread.

“Thank you.”

Something gives way beneath the flesh, and baptism rains down onto his head, running into his eyes and mouth. When he rises again and turns to find his seat amongst the congregation, his brothers begin to cheer. He smiles at them. When he sits, the others put their hands on him. One starts to get a little ahead of himself and licks his fingers when he pulls away. No one chastises this one, only gives him a small chuckle for his impatience.

And as the ceremony begins, the Marine’s world loses its edges. The sword of fear implanted in his mind by his creator lowers, and as he swells the sword fades into a pinprick.

—

When the Marine wakes, he is back in his quarters. The calm fades. Small worries trickle in. Has he missed anything? A drill? An alarm, perhaps?

He looks down only to find that his garments do not fit him anymore.

Immediately he panics- he is going to fail inspection, he must be some sort of defect, a mutant, an impurity to be purged. There is no room for a brother not in tip-top shape; it is either to the medical wing to get fixed or else his geneseed must be extracted before it wastes a second longer intermixed with his pathetic DNA. . .

But then he remembers where he is. He sags forward as the adrenaline leaves him.

He looks down at his body.

It’s. . . just a body, he realizes. And a body is a gift, one without obligation, if his growing sense of calm is to be believed. How it looks isn’t important. A low buzz fills him at the realization and a smile lightens his face.

The Marine walks to the door of his quarters. It takes him longer than he is used to. His limbs are different, softer, bulkier. It’s as if he’s learning to walk again, in some distant memory of childhood.

When he opens his door, outside is one of his brothers.

“It is good to see you. How do you feel?” The brother asks.

“I’m slower.” The Marine replies.

“That’s alright. That’s not important. How are you feeling?”

“I feel. . .” the Marine closes his eyes, “comfortable.”

His brother wraps his arms around him. It’s a bit of a stretch, now, but that’s alright. The Marine hugs back. It’s only when their chestplates bump together that he realizes he’s still wearing his armor.

Funny, the weight is gone. The aches of implant interfaces is no more. The armor feels like it is a second skin, not just something grafted onto him. Something distant in the back of his mind wonders if it was always supposed to feel this way, if something about him was simply broken from the start, but the more rational part of him prevails.

This body was a gift. He will treasure it with everything he can.

And his brother leads him to the sparring rooms, where those around him demonstrate how to make the best of his new form and share their own experiences to make him feel better. He trains as long as he needs, and when he feels ready, he is redeployed.

There is a part of him that is still impatient, of course. He is still himself. But now he simply channels that impatience into an eagerness to spread the wonderful gift that his god has given unto the world, with no expectation of repayment.

III.

This Marine sits at his desk. He holds the letter in gloved hands- even on the verge of something so great, he would not dare stain it with his bare fingers.

He grabs the letter opener, closes his eyes, and pictures the blade unsealing the letter’s seam with a precision no mortal hands could match. When he opens his eyes again, it is done, only a small wisp of blue energy trailing from the edge of the blade in response.

Carefully, he pulls out the letter’s contents.

It is a standard Imperial document, an I-800678, used across a hundred worlds. Every Departmento Processium office has millions of them, shoved on and behind every shelf, between cracks in the floor or used to stuff mattresses of the poor adepts who worked there. Unnumbered. Unsorted.

It has taken this Marine one thousand, six hundred years and forty-four days to find this exact letter.

He unfolds the paper.

The name printed at the top is Beril Tantia Rebiko.

He mouths the consonants and vowels, a preparation before he allows the name to pass from his lips.

Beril Tantia Rebiko was born on 7/123/692/M39. She was born in the capital segment of the Hive World Moltova, and as of the issuing of this document, she worked in a factory that manufactured boots from corpse leather.

The Marine closes his eyes and searches his mind until he can recall the scent; the stench of death as the door opened. A voice, telling him to look to the floor until she told him it was alright to look at her.

This form, the I-800678, was issued on 7/122/726/M39.

Beril Tantia Rebiko was a single day shy of 33 years old.

Thirty-three.

His own memory of being 33 is just as distant as the memory of her. Looking back to then is little different than looking back to when he was a child. So young. So blind. So foolish.

. . . there was so much she would never have known, her life defined by the little box she worked to call home for the two of them.

On the date this form was issued, she would never return home. On the date this form was issued, she would have seen the sky for the very first time, as she was marched to the spaceport. On the date this form was issued, she would be thrown upon that black ship to be consumed.

Beril Tantia Rebiko.

For every single year of his life until this day, he has only ever known her as “mother”.

Something now flows within the Marine’s veins. Relief? Ecstasy? Sadness? All three roil about within him, and rather than trying to define it, he allows it to course freely.

Carefully, he re-folds the paper and slides it back into the letter. He then encases the letter in a woven bundle of energy, before offering it to the gaping maw of the archives ahead of him.

An unseen force grabs the bundle and pulls before slamming shut. The Marine closes his eyes and awaits judgment.

The response that trickles into his mind is at first confusion, followed by intense pleasure.

“Is the knowledge of her existence so rare?” He laughs. Then his smile fades.

He is grateful that his god is pleased with the result of a journey he has been mocked for for a thousand years. But even without his god’s approval, satisfaction soars within him.

Emboldened, he asks, “Is she still there? In the Warp?”

Laughter trickles into his ears, and a thousand voices reply, “the only part of her that remains is within you.”

“Good.” He whispers back. “May she never be the same.”

IV.

This Marine is free!

The sound of metal clanging on metal no longer makes him jolt!

The taste of blood and flesh no longer makes him gag!

If his purpose is to be a weapon, then why was he ever made to struggle with such things? It’s only a distant memory now, the time when he was so painfully weak. When he was wracked awake by night terrors and sung to sleep by fear. Where his superiors insisted that he rid himself of the same weakness that they themselves only hid!

Instead of pushing it down or having to overcome it or having to reason and question and twist himself into knots, it is now gone!

The Marine cheers as he cleaves through the armor of his foe. Bones wrench from joints. Blood pours from the wound. All is a symphony.

There is nothing more to worry about. There is nothing more to fear.

He can finally enjoy what he was so carefully crafted to do.

And that’s better than anything the corpse-emperor ever did for him.

So proudly, with the next swing of his chain-axe, he proclaims this harvest for his god- the only one who ever cared enough to fix him.

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