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mydearlybeloathed · 2 months

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𝐈 𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐌𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐈 𝐇𝐀𝐃 𝐘𝐎𝐔 ⁴

𝐢 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐦𝐞, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐰𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐛𝐞 𝐩𝐢𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐬, 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐫𝐲…

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: on the night of your promotion, you ruminate on just how far you've come, and make the harrowing realization that you've gone too far down this road. with only whispers as a guide, the deserter sets out to find the strawhat, finally done running from your problems.

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: opla!luffy x gn!reader

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 9.7k (wow)

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭: use of Y/N, gn reader, mentioned death of a mother, the crisis climaxes, alcohol like once i think, the happy ending :)

𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐬: the night we met, your hands are cold

series masterlist

The party—gala, more like—was in full swing. Violins swelled and a piano forted, and somewhere out of your sight was a woman singing opera. The music would have been lovely had you been anywhere else, but here you are.

At a Marine Gala of all places. You heaved a heavy sigh, sipping at your champagne as you forced a smile, pushing back your shoulders.

The heavy gaze of your father rested on you from across the ballroom, worry lining his face at the thought that you might do something to disgrace your family name. That thought had never been more tempting, but you were nothing if not calm and collected.

So you busied yourself with being a wallflower, dwelling in the itchy fabric of your outfit. It was nice, you gave it that, a rich blue color you might have picked for yourself if you had the option, which you hadn’t. Your father chose this outfit, like he made most of your decisions these days.

He didn’t think Koby was a good influence? He had you transferred to another ship. He didn’t think you were ready for that promotion? He told your superiors just that. You hated him. You wanted to end him. You smiled at him from across the room as he raised a glass in your direction, speaking to Vice Admiral Garp in a low tone.

You downed your glass and wiped your chin, resting your eyes for a moment. Your father had risen to the rank of commodore recently, which had been a major boost to his ego. You’d been feeling the brunt of it for weeks. But maybe, things were about to change. This party was for you, after all.

The partygoers grew sparse for a moment, and as if light were shining down in a heavenly glow, there was Koby, his eyes scanning the room as he rose on his tiptoes. A wide smile split onto your face, and not even Helmeppo bobbing up behind Koby could sway it.

Uncaring of your father or proper etiquette anymore, you waved wildly and called, “Koby!”

A few strangers cast you dark looks as Koby’s bright eyes found yours. He all but raced in your direction, speed walking across the floor to maintain some level of poise. He nearly hugged you, nearly spun you around he was so happy, but settled on taking your hand and shaking it firmly.

You returned the gesture with a roll of your eyes. “Pleasure to see you, Captain Koby.”

“The pleasures all mine, for certain,” he answered, barely able to keep the mirth out of his tone and eyes.

Helmeppo caught up to his friend, looking from you to Koby before doing a double take. A little grin slid onto his lips. “Oh, Commander.”

You nearly replied when Koby swatted his arm and gestured to the medal pinned over your heart. “Captain, remember? We’re at their promotion gala.”

“It’s not just my gala,” you said, shuffling your feet. “There’s others promoted too… And don’t call me Captain.”

Koby’s eyes darkened slightly, his gaze flickering all over your face. He was disappointed to find that even more light had left your eyes since last he saw you. This world was draining you of everything beautiful about you, and he feared the day the proud yet haunted cadet he’d met swabbing the decks all those years ago would be gone for good.

“Helmeppo,” Koby said distantly. “Can you get me a glass of wine?”

Instantly the boy perked up and clapped a hand on his friend's shoulder, muttering something as he went off in search of a drink. You watched him go, tired eyes fluttering, and as soon as Helmeppo was out of sight Koby set a hand on your shoulder and began to usher you deeper into the crowds of people, well out of your father’s line of sight. “Koby—?”

“You look miserable,” he drawled, squeezing your shoulder. “C’mon. Let’s get outta here.”

“I…” You thought of several reasons why, like the consequences if your father found out, or maybe being mugged on the streets, before you grew sick and tired of this awful anxiety you’d been dealing with for years.

Letting out a determined huff, you nodded, allowing a smile to show. “Okay.”

જ⁀➴

A laugh ripped out of you at some awful joke Koby made as you walked through the night chill, heart light and shoulders relieved of that weary weight usually stacked on them. Koby bumped your shoulder. “You feelin’ better?”

You nodded despite yourself. “Yeah. A bit.”

The truth was, you never were better. You’d perfected the art of going numb, ignoring the ache of regret always looming in the back of your mind. But then, just some months ago, you’d seen stupid Red Hair Shanks, and he planted all these thoughts in your head. Just like he planted them in Luffy’s.

Your steps faltered, face falling, and you came to a halt to turn out to the sea on your left. The boardwalk of the city dropped off into deep blue waters splashing up against it. You shivered, wrapping your arms around yourself as Koby noticed you’d stopped.

He slowly inched up beside you, following you gaze. “What is it?”

You fiddled with the medal pinned to your clothes, a symbol of your new position among the Marines. “Do you think I’m a good person?”

The question caught him off guard. “Uhm, yes? I mean, of course I do.” He ducked to catch your gaze, growing increasingly worried when you simply closed your eyes. “What’s wrong?”

You hung your head and chewed at your bottom lip. “I… I’m tired, Koby.”

The bags under your eyes were evident, and so Koby nodded. “We can head back to base. I’ll tell your dad you’re sick—”

“Not just physically,” you choked out. Eyes pressed shut, you hissed out a sigh. “Mentally. I’m so tired of—of this.” You gripped your medal and ripped it off your chest, tearing a hole in your outfit. “I didn’t think I’d get this far. Now, I’m a captain. As a captain, I’m in charge of so many more people. So many more people will see me as this—awful thing that I’ve become.”

“Woah, hey.” Koby reached to take the medal from your vice grip, but you weren’t done, jerking away from him and looking right at him, eyes ablaze with years and years of thoughts better left unsaid.

“You know I never wanted this,” you nearly whispered. Your hands shook around the cold metal. “Koby… what if I can’t get out?”

For the longest time, all he did was stare at you, eyes slightly wide, and you feared you’d crossed a line. Regret pooled in your eyes as tears swelled at the corners. You half wished to return to the party, allow your father to berate you for disappearing, and continue a horrid night with your only friend angry with you.

Koby turned suddenly, expression unchanging, and trudged down the boardwalk, toward a row of buildings overlooking the sea. Hesitant, you followed, running your thumb over the back of your medal.

His pace slowed to allow you to catch up and walk beside him, your eyes stuck to the ground as you let him lead you blindly into the light of a hanging street lamp. You glanced up, gut going cold as you met eyes with Monkey D. Luffy.

You’d seen his wanted poster so many times you’d found every little detail you could, yet you still jumped out of your skin every time.

Instantly, a burn welled up in your chest, fists tight at your sides. “Why…”

“You love him, right?” Koby asked.

Dazedly, you scoffed, lost in the poster. “What kind of question is that?”

“He feels the same,” said Koby, watching you gaze at Luffy’s picture like one might gaze upon a magnificent fresco.

“You think so?” you wondered.

“I know so,” he replied with certainty.

Swallowing your tears, your eyes wandered around the wall in front of you, scanning over the several other wanted posters pinned up. Luffy’s crewmates took up much of the space, each looking so brave and fierce. Even Shanks’ poster was there, though slightly faded.

Luffy. Shanks. Even Koby. They all had something in common: that brave fire you’d always been too fearful to ignite.

Your fists started to shake. If courage was a fire, then you were a pile of wet logs, desperate for some kindling. Eyes flickering back to Luffy’s wide smile, plastered up on this wall, illuminated by lamplight, you forced down the taut coil in your gut, and exhaled.

As your eyes fell closed, every crashing wave and calling bird fell silent. You barely even heard yourself breathe. Love. You loved him. You craved to see him. A thought hit you so sharply, you didn’t believe it was your own: did you love him enough to do something reckless?

The tether tight on your soul quivered, sending shockwaves across the sea and right to the heart of a boy made of laughter. His laugh grew brighter till you swore he was right beside you, but as you opened your eyes, there was only Koby, staring at you with some concern.

“Y/N?” he spoke tentatively, causing you to force down a thick swallow.

Breathing uneven, you blinked widely at him. Yes, you answered the question. Go, it replied. “I can’t stay,” you said so quietly Koby almost didn't catch it.

But he knew. He understood. Koby reached for your hand, taking the shiny Captain’s medal from your enclosed fist, and glanced out at the ocean. When he placed the medal back in your hand, you moved instantly, rushing at the water and hurling the medal far into its arms. The splash was too far away to hear, but you felt the medal sink into the depths as another of the binds tying you down snapped.

Your blood rushed in your ears, that same exhilaration from when you’d chased down Shanks some months ago. This time though—you heaved a hefty breath, shock written all over your face—this time you were taking the first chance you got.

A laugh was dragged out of you as you raked your hands through your hair, finding Koby behind you when you whirled around. “Shit… my dad’s gonna kill me.”

Yet, the thought didn’t hold much power when you considered that Luffy used to promise he would take you far, far away from that man. Maybe… maybe you could take yourself away. To Luffy. Hopefully, he would recognize you after all this time.

And when you raisec your gaze to Koby, he was smiling, eyes squinted as he reached to grab your shoulders and tug you into him. Your arms wrapped tight around his middle, and he hugged you all the more tighter, his hand finding the back of your head. “I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll miss you more,” you murmured, dragging a watery chuckle from him.

“It’s not a competition.”

Jerking back, you scrutinized his face, swearing you would never forget him as long as you lived. Perhaps you’d see him again some day, long down the road, when he’s some big shot marine and you’re—well, you’re a pirate.

It had always been Luffy’s dream, his calling. For the longest time you had no clue if you had a dream of your own; you had one now. I’ll be brave, and Luffy will be proud. I’ll be proud. You wanted so dearly to be proud of yourself for once.

“Here.” Koby shoved a pouch of money into your hand. “Take this. Ask around for a way off the island. Y’should ditch the fancy clothes too.”

Nodding, you glanced down at your attire, deciding you’d snatch something off a clothes line and leave some beri on a windowsill. “What about you? You know my dad will suspect something.”

Koby simply shrugged it off, sporting a grin. “I’ve been with Helmeppo all night. No idea where you ran off to all of a sudden.”

Suddenly out of breath, you flattened your shaky hands against your sides, beaming up at him. This is it. My second chance. So many years of wishing and hiding had led you here. No more running, you decided.

“Tell him I said hi,” Koby murmured. He turned to look back down the street, where far off out of sight the marine gala went on through the night, unaware a deserter was gathering their nerve. “Go now. Get off the island before sunrise.”

You nodded, and despite the cold chill running all over your skin, you shoved out your hand to shake Koby’s, chin quivering. “Goodbye, Captain.”

His smile faltered, his eyes glassy as he shook your hand firmly. “See you, Y/N.”

The moment he retracted his hand you set one foot in front of the other, holding your breath as your fists closed around your pant legs. You didn’t dare to look back even once all the way through the city. Finding clothes wasn’t too much of an issue; you found a clothesline running between two buildings fairly easy, swiping what looked like a mens shirt and a pair of work pants. You snabbed a hat for good measure, and left a handful of beri in your wake.

Down to the docks you rushed, setting eyes on a quartet loading crates onto a small ship nearly the twin of the one Luffy had left Dawn Village on. You were gone before the sun ever rose above the horizon, and Koby was none the wiser as to where you had gone, and he told your livid father just that, all while Helmeppo swore up and down they lost track of you at some point during the night.

Free of your uniform, free of your title, free of your father—free of it all, you stood on the deck of that little ship, doing what you could to help, your smile unrelenting against the wind whipping against your face.

“What’re you smiling about?” asked the young son of the merchant who owned the ship.

You gave him some stupid answer about the sunrise being pretty, which it was, but you didn’t feel like explaining the euphoria you never thought you’d ever get to feel firsthand.

Luffy once tried to explain the feeling the sea gave, how he got so thrilled by the adventure being a pirate would bring. You never understood, simply nodding along to whatever he said, because he looked pretty when he smiled like that.

But you could feel it now. Deep in your chest danced a mix of nausea and excitement and dread all at once, but none of that mattered when the salt spray made your hair damp. You understood him now, and you couldn’t wait to tell him so.

You only had to find him now.

જ⁀➴

Luffy had been thinking for a while now, and it had his friends a bit worried.

Thinking about food, and the one piece, and the usual things he thought about—but mostly you. He’d been wondering a lot about when he’d find you again, and if he’d ever have the chance to get you back. So much time had passed, his grand adventure getting in the way of tracking you down, if he even could.

And sometimes, on odd days, he also wondered—what if you didn’t want to come home? That question was daunting, leaving him in a daze for a whole evening. It couldn’t be true. How could you ever want to stay there, wherever you were?

Surely, surely, you wanted to find him as much as he wanted to find you. Luffy longed to stand beside you as the sun longed to stand aside the moon. He ached to hold you close and never let you go, like he should have all that time ago.

Luffy knew you—probably better than you knew yourself. You’d done something heroic that day on the beach, dragging his grandpa down with you. But maybe… maybe if he’d done a better job at chasing away your fears, then you’d be with him now.

He hardly noticed when Robin sat beside him at the kitchen table, only blinking awake from his reverie when her shoulder pressed against his. “Luffy?”

He grinned. “What’s up?”

She shrugged. “Nothing. Just bored.” Her eyes found the sheet of paper lying before her captain, specifically the crudely drawn picture scrawled across it. “Uhm… what’s that supposed to be?”

Luffy’s eyes brightened and a smile split onto his face. “Oh!” He shoved the drawing in Robin’s direction. “Ya like it?”

Nodding, Robin wagered he’d drawn something between a stork and a windmill. “Mhmm. I like the… dynamics. What is it exactly?”

Nami walked by, mumbling reminders for the day under her breath, and she turned to smile at the pair, catching sight of the drawing. “That’s a nice drawing of Y/N, Luffy.”

“Thanks!” he beamed at her.

Robin watched a giggling Nami leave, slowly returning his gaze to Luffy. “Who’s Y/N?”

As if he needed a reminder of why he’d been upset. Luffy’s face threatened to fall before he pulled himself together and smirked. “A marine. A special marine.” His eyes settled on the drawing. “My marine.”

No further explanation provided itself, but Robin almost didn’t need one; the way Luffy’s entire being softened at the name revealed just enough. All afternoon she inquired about this marine, hearing stories from Luffy’s past that all included the missing person.

“Where are they now?” she asked when he was done, and he tilted his head. “The marine. Where are they?”

“Oh, I dunno,” Luffy shrugged as he added a few more details to his drawing. “That’s the problem, I guess.”

Robin poked his shoulder. “You don’t have a lead?”

Luffy shrugged. “Nope. Just that they’re with the marines. I always figured they’d give me a sign when they’re ready to be found.”

Though she hardly understood that logic, Robin nodded as she set a hand on his shoulder and took her leave. Luffy examined his drawing, letting out a near-depressing sigh, and wished beyond wishing that you’d send him a sign soon.

The truth of the matter was, Luffy had tried to track you down. He’d interrogated each marine he came across, getting tidbits of information about the notoriously cold Commander Y/N. But whenever he thought he’d come this close, you slipped through his fingers, always a few steps out of reach. Like you didn’t want him to catch you.

Let me find you, he begged, and the very last of the tether tying you to land broke in two, throwing you head first into the life the sea had raged for you. Haha!

Luffy jerked around, swearing he’d heard… something. But he was all alone, everyone off to their own devices. He shook out his shoulders, but nothing could rid him of the goosebumps.

જ⁀➴

You’d been somewhat well-known within the marines, but as a deserter? You were something of a celebrity.

Sure, hiding your face everywhere you went was tasking, but at least you looked nice in your wanted poster. You liked to think Koby had chosen the picture used, doing you yet another favor even as you ran for your life.

And your poster didn’t go unnoticed by any means. Nobles who’d crossed your path, fellow marines you hadn’t seen in years, they all gasped at the sight of your poster being added to their roster. A few in particular were rather noteworthy…

Nia, far too sweet for such a world (one wonders why she’s a marine), stood frozen for five whole minutes when she saw it, not sure whether to be horrified or giddy you’d finally done something about the forlorn look in your eyes. She balled up her fists, and wondered what freedom tasted like.

Vice Admiral Garp himself laughed so hard he nearly fell off his desk chair, startling the poor cadet instructed to take the poster to him. He swiped up the paper and wiped at a tear, positively thrilled. “Finally! The coward’s grown up!”

Red Hair Shanks, so tipsy he nearly missed it, before Beckman gripped his shoulder and smiled so big his cigarette nearly fell from his teeth. Shanks ripped the poster off the wall, admiring the number on your head. “Well I’ll be… They did it.”

And Monkey D. Luffy, wandering a port town with Nami’s hand on his shoulder to keep him from running off. Unsuspecting Luffy, griping that he didn’t need an escort.

Nami tightened her hold, steering him through the crowd of shoppers. “Listen, this is supposed to be a quick supply run. I can’t take any chances.”

“Nami,” he drawled, rolling his eyes. “You’re hurtin’ me! Let go. I promise I won’t get distracted.”

She shot him a skeptical glare, assessed his innocent smile, and scoffed. “Fine. But I swear—”

She released him, leading the way to a bread stall. His eyes roamed over the busy market place, the scent of fresh flowers mixing with grilled foods. Some little kids played a game with a ball in an alley they passed, and two seagulls fought over scraps on the corner. A normal little town, full of life by the look of it.

“Oof!” Luffy ran right into Nami’s back, stumbling as he righted himself. He cast her a glower, huffing, “Now who’s sidetracked. This is a quick supply run, Nami—”

“Shut up,” she snapped, lips parted and she sightlessly reached for his shirt and started to drag him along once again. He huffed and puffed until Nami stopped again, this time in front of a long wall lined with poster upon poster of wanted criminals.

She snapped in his face, silencing his complaints. Nami wasn’t sure what to say, unsure if she’s right, yet somehow confident she’s not wrong. So she simply grabbed his face and turned it toward one poster in particular; the picture was of a person around their age, standing rigid and proud in a marine get-up. Their lips were pulled into a tight grin, but their eyes were dead and blank.

“Is that…?” Nami trailed off, watching with bated breath as Luffy reached to take it down, the corners tearing from the tacks used to pin it up.

Luffy held the poster like it was glass, eyes flickering all over, checking for inconsistencies. He found none, bringing the poster closer to his face, a soft chuckle slipping past his lips.

Former Captain Y/N L/N. Wanted dead or alive for ten million beri.

He hardly believed his eyes. His sign. You’re ready.

The whole town heard his victory shout, rattling windchimes and alerting everyone around that, “THEY DID IT! They’re free!” He whirled on Nami and shook your poster in her direction. “Nami, we have to find them! How do we find them?”

“Not sure,” she said, unable to help the grin on her face. “But we will.”

Now it was Luffy doing the dragging and Nami doing the whining, all the way back to the ship, and the whole crew was witness to the blinding smile spread on their captain’s face as he brandished your wanted poster to them.

What would he do? What would he say? Luffy figured he would apologize first—for what, he didn’t really know, he just felt like he should—and then he’d yell at you for feeling like you had to stay, before attacking you in a hug sure to drag you to the ground.

And then he’d kiss you, probably, definitely. You were long overdue for one of those.

He just had to find you first.

Sanji and Zoro stood leaning on the banister around the ship’s helm, watching as Luffy rattled on about how you’d love Robin’s library, when the cook turned to the swordsman, taking out his cigarette to speak.

“So we’re bounty hunting Luffy’s lost marine?” Sanji mused with a half grin, drawing a smirk from Zoro.

He cast Sanji a look and shrugged. The cook laughed wryly and stubbed his smoke on the banister. “This should be fun.”

જ⁀➴

Within a week the rumors had spread like wildfire across the sea: ex-marine Y/N L/N was searching for Monkey D. Luffy.

“Did you hear?” said a baker to his neighbor. “That marine deserter stole Yuri’s boat!”

“I thought they looked familiar!”

And some miles off, a widow whispered among her friends. “And as they were sailing off they shouted, ‘Tell Strawhat Luffy I’m after him!’ And off they were!”

Three islands later, the people of a lonely village began to whisper as Y/N the Deserter stepped off a little sloop. Your void expression, calloused hands, and narrowed gaze were intimidating enough, but what was more nerve-wracking was your silence.

As you did on every island before, you headed right for the closest bar, and without much pretense, you asked if Strawhat Luffy had been seen in the area. Usually, the answer was a nervous twitch followed by a thoughtful silence, and then, usually, a no.

Receiving the expected answer once again, you gave a frustrated sigh and said no more, sitting solitary at the end of the bar, shooting glares at anyone who dared to look at you too long. Deep in your thoughts, you wondered if this was payback for hiding from Luffy for so long, always slipping through his fingers as he was yours now.

All this happened five more times, three of which nearly gave you hope, but Luffy was always leaving as you were arriving, always just out of reach. Each time you left a village, you left with the same message: “If you see Monkey D. Luffy! Tell him I’m looking for him!”

No one was quite sure if the Deserter Marine meant to kill the Strawhat, or meant some other kind of pirate business. Either way, your intentions were clear to those you crossed, so you can imagine one small island’s sudden excitement when shortly after your departure, in sailed Monkey D. Luffy and his crew.

The restlessly bored daughter of the mayor wasted no time in rushing up to the pirate captain and explaining in long-winded detail your declaration. Luffy started to laugh almost maniacally, grinning from ear to ear as he turned to shake Zoro by his stiff shoulders.

The rumors stretched even to the marines, tirelessly searching for their escaped soldier, primarily the group led by Captain Koby, who forced down a laugh when the information reached him.

“I’m sorry,” he told his superiors. “We’ve searched for months, and honestly, we’re exhausting our resources over a deserter. I think it’s time we give it a rest.”

Slowly, your wanted poster was overshadowed by those around it, and people stopped whispering about Y/N the Deserter, who traveled from island to island, village to village, entering a spectral and leaving a spectacle.

You fought off bounty hunters and swindled food vendors, using all your money on information alone. A stolen sword on your hip and a suspicious maroon stain on the cuff of your sleeve, you looked more and more like a pirate by the hour.

Months. And nothing. No sign of him.

Nothing.

Till just now.

You weren't exactly sure if you were seeing right, squinting through the blazing sun as you slowly walked down the dock of the latest island. A ways away, pocketed away between two large vessels, was a caravel with a creative masthead; a lion, to be precise. That isn’t what stopped you in your tracks, though—emblazoned on the sail was a skull and crossbones, the typical jolly roger… accompanied by a Straw Hat.

So many days… you’d very nearly given up, the idea always at the back of your mind, wondering if all of this was foolish, if you’d made tragic mistake after tragic mistake and now you would never see your best friend and the love of your life ever again—yet here you stood, breathless, eyes locked on the ship you’d only ever dreamed of seeing.

On tentative feet, you walked down the docks, weaving in and out of busy sailors to reach that ship. The sky was cloudy and dark, and it would probably rain later that day, and still you swore a beam of sunlight was shining down upon the vessel. The Thousand Sunny.

“I’m gonna be sick,” you whispered, clutching at your gut as your skin got all clammy and cold and suffocating. “Oh, god.”

Hah! Was your mind playing tricks, or was he really so close you could hear his laughter just up on the deck of the ship. You barely realized when you stopped moving, only aware once your heart started thumping in your ears.

Your fists tightened with resolve at your sides and you surged forward, forcing step after step till you reached the gangway of the ship. Blood rushing, hands shaking, heart racing, you set one foot on the beginning of the wooden ramp, eyes raising to where the gangway opened up to the deck.

“Sanji! You changed the combination on the fridge again!”

Frozen in your tracks, you realized you’d forgotten what his voice sounded like. He sounded different now—older. Either way, you couldn’t move, listening closely as a man replied, “Yeah, I did. No clue how you cracked the first code.”

The scoff to follow was so clear you could picture the boy rolling his eyes perfectly. Your pulse thundered, drowning out every other noise, a chill passing through your blood once again. You could do this. You would do this. Luffy was right there.

“Hey.” You jerked back, wild eyes finding a man leering down at you, suspicion all over his face. One hand rested on the hilt of a sword, one of three. “What d’you want?”

Zoro’s brows met as he assessed the stranger staring blankly up at him, their jaw dropped as they searched for an answer. The stranger backed away like a frightened animal, cursed softly, and bolted deeper into the town.

“Okay…” Zoro tilted his head, wondering why he had the feeling he’d seen them before… Oh. Oh. Zoro’s eyes widened and he misstepped, nearly falling overboard as he raked a hand through his hair. “Shit—Hey! Hey, wait!”

Nami rushed to the edge of the ship in an instant, book abandoned on her chair. In seconds she zeroed in on the figure ducking into the crowds, her breath catching. It couldn’t be. It was too perfect. “That’s…”

Zoro barked a laugh. “Yeah!”

Her jaw set and she whirled on him in a flash, brows met. “You let them go?!”

“What—” He sputtered a response as she punched his bicep. “I didn’t—”

“What’s going on?”

Nami and Zoro froze, heads whipping back to face their captain as he hopped down from the helm, a pair of deer in headlights. Luffy’s head was tilted, his hat snug on his head, looking as chipper as ever. Nami tried to speak, yet her throat had run dry, only a squeak escaping.

Zoro expelled a sigh as gravity of the situation fully set in. Years and years he’d been listening to Luffy rabble on about first first-mate, his best friend, the one he’d lost to the marines. The true story of how you were separated was muddled and confusing, for sometimes it was you who’d left and sometimes it was him. You’d been as strange and elusive as the One Piece itself until the day you’re wanted poster was found, and Zoro realized you were a real person and not just some fictitious story.

You meant as much to Luffy as his dreams, and to Zoro, that was something sacred.

The words found him instantly, eyes locking with Luffy’s and voice laden with solemnity. “They’re here.”

Luffy’s face drained of color and Zoro nearly went to make sure he wouldn’t fall. “What?” he croaked.

“They’re here,” Nami gasped at last, a smile working its way up her face. Luffy turned his eyes to her, all wide and disbelieving. “We found them.”

The edges of Luffy’s lips quivered upward, gaze flickering between his friends. “I—I told you that innkeeper wasn’t lying!”

Nami rolled her eyes. “That’s what you’re focused on?”

Not even a beat went by when, “He did tell you so.”

“Yeah,” Luffy laughed. “You said we shouldn’t trust ‘em.”

She wasn’t in a fighting mood, not at a time like this, so she gritted her teeth and relented, “Fine, you told me so. Can we go? They ran off and who knows where they’ve gone.”

And just like that, Luffy snapped to attention, brows vaulted as his eyes darted to the crowded streets beyond the docks. “They ran away? Why?”

“Zoro probably scared them,” Nami grunted, swatting the broad shouldered man who huffed in reply.

“Whatever!”

The crew was rallied in ten minutes, their ranks spreading through the city in a matter of moments. Really, it was only a matter of time before they found you, at least Luffy told himself that.

But he couldn’t get it out of his mind. Why did you run away?

જ⁀➴

The only reason you stopped sprinting was the driver who shoved you aside to help his lady into her awaiting carriage. Otherwise, you might have run from one end of the island to the other, just to be safe.

Teetering on one foot then the other, you spat a curse and hunched over, clutching at the collar of your shirt as you hurried into the awning of an alley. You muttered over and over, hitting the heel of your palm to your head. Slumping against the wall, you mocked yourself, “Oh, Tell Monkey D. Luffy I’m looking for him! Did you really think you’d be able to face him? You’re so stupid!”

And now, his friend had seen you. You’d have to escape the city somehow, sail far away, and start anew. A new name would have to be decided. Hopefully Absolute Fucking Idiot the First wasn’t too common.

Right after the foolishness was the shame—how could you come this far just to sprint as fast as you could from your him? The one you would travel every sea twice to find, if only you could find the nerve.

Clawing at your arms, inhaling deep, you allowed yourself a moment of peace (it didn’t work). Dark spots crept up your vision, wide eyes blinking fast, a cold sweat forming. You needed to sit down, preferably not in a damp alleyway.

You found your way to a bar, a scene you’d grown familiar with over the years. Though your ears and eyes were peeled, you couldn’t help the sneaking feeling that man was going to find you. You assured yourself it was a stupid, that you were good at hiding, that you’d made an art of it—but what if?

What if something inside wanted Luffy’s friend to find you? To drag you back? To give you no choice but to see Luffy and know him again? On that thought, you lifted your gaze and ordered a glass of juice, because you’d rather have a clear head when that crewmate of his didn’t stop searching.

Sipping at your drink, you sat a while in thought, chin rested on your palm as you swirled the juice around with a straw, creating little whirlpools. You nearly fell asleep like that when the bell over the bar’s door jingled. You peeked out the corner of your eye, seeing a pretty woman gazing around, looking for someone.

Her long dark hair draped around her shoulders as she crossed her arms and sighed, defeated. You turned back around and drank the rest of your juice, ignoring how familiar that woman looked. It was probably nothing; probably just another pirate off one of the many wanted posters you’d been presented with.

“You’re Y/N, right?”

Every muscle in your body stiffened, all breathe lost at the mention of your name. You whipped around to find the woman a few inches away from you, her eyes now intently locked on yours.

You licked your lips as your panic swelled. A bounty hunter perhaps? “Who?”

“Y/N,” she repeated, undeterred. “The Deserter. Is that you?”

Leveling her with a glare, you stood and set a hand on your sword. “You’ve got the wrong person.”

Taking in her blank stare, you sidestepped and made to weave around her, heart racing once again, when she grabbed your tricep in a grip stronger than she looked capable of. You jerked away, but she only tightened her hand.

“Luffy’s looked for you a long time,” she whispered, shooting icicles donw your spine. “You mean a lot to him just to run off when he finally finds you.”

Slowly, you met her gaze, jaw slack as you heaved in deep breaths. “He… what?” You tried to get away, weaker this time. “Who are you?”

A grin slid easily onto her face, giving her an air of danger. “So it is you.” She extended a hand to you even as she kept you in place with her other. “Nico Robin. I’ve heard a lot about you, Captain.”

Instantly, every fiber of your being crawled, a sneer taking your face. “I’m not a captain.”

“Not anymore. Luffy was so excited when he found out.” Robin released you, grinning when you stood frozen in place. “Could we talk?”

You’re not sure how Robin got you sitting at a shadowed booth near the back of the bar, but there you were, sitting across form her as she stirred her drink. You felt stiff all over, hands folded in your lap. “Listen, I’ve been looking for him too.”

“We know,” Robin said after a sip. “We got your messages.”

Your skim warmed. “Right, uhm. I was headed for your boat—ship—Sunny…” You gaped, grasping at words that practically sprinted away from you. Were the walls closing in? Was the air getting thinner? You snatched at the first feasable sentence. “But I couldn’t...”

When you lifted your gaze, you’re not sure what you expected. Maybe for her to be angry, disappointed, amused even. But instead, she looked curious, her head tilted slightly, her eyes scanning your face.

“Why?” she asked ever so simply.

You felt very small, looking anywhere but at Robin, fiddling with your thumbs. Deflect. Deflecting is good. “Is Luffy okay? Good, I mean. Is he good? I heard him. He sounded happy.”

She didn’t answer. She only sat in silence, a brow raised. You cracked your neck from side to side, too awkward for comfort, desperate worries boiling up your throat and—

“I think… I think, sometimes, he’s still better off without me.” Your leg bounced up and down. “Like, what if I see him, and I haven’t changed at all? I’ve always been a coward. What if that’s all I’ll ever be?”

Robin watched you very closely, her heart aching as a part of her regretted being so harsh with you before. She’d only been thinking of Luffy, but still. She leaned closer and set her arms on the table, trying to catch your flickering gaze. “Hey.” She held your stare firmly. “You deserted the marines. A coward wouldn’t do that.”

“But I ran away.”

“No,” she said with a shake of her head, offering a slight smile. “You’re here with me.”

Robin never swayed in her direct attention to you, and though her gaze burned into you, something about its blaze was warm. Your mother had always been a blur on the forefront of your mind, killed in action some years after your birth. The one memory you had of her was of a scolding, when her eyes burned into you just like this.

“He looked for me?” you asked, tapering off.

Robin smiled. “Since he saw your poster a few months back. I suspect he’s been looking for clues even longer.”

“But… he’s gotten so… great. Everyone knows his name.”

“And yet…” Robin ensured she had your attention. “He never forgot yours.” She pushed aside her half-full glass and inched toward the end of the booth. “Why would he? To me, it seems like you’re the love of his life—maybe even above the sea.”

She left you dazed, not breathing nearly enough air, and you stammered as she stood to her feet. “Where are you going?”

“Back to the Sunny,” she shrugged, stretching. “Feel free to follow.”

You slipped to your feet as well. “You won’t make me?”

Now was when she looked amused. Robin’s lips quirked as she shook her head. “I can’t make you do anything. But, if you wanna prove you’re not a coward—”

She pivoted, hands in her pockets as she called over her shoulder, “—you know where to find him.”

And she was gone and quick as she appeared, out of the bar and down the street in a matter of seconds. Rattled, you leaned on the table and collected your wits from where they’d been scattered all over the ground.

You could have been standing there for three minutes or three hours—you couldn’t tell—but when you finally shook yourself back to reality you swiftly paid and set out into the street. You shielded your eyes and looked toward the sun, catching it hiding just behind the tops of the buildings on either side of the street.

A lot happened in those few moments of looking at the sun.

You were nine years old again, holding a training sword and having no idea what to do with it. Your father had shouted at you for not catching on quicker. Your mother’s grave was newly dug. You were only nine, yet expected to be so much more. You wanted—needed to be so much more.

A little boy watched on, wondering when you’d stop staring at the ground and notice him only a few feet away. After ten minutes, he grew bored and jumped off the log pile he’d been perched on.

“What’re you doing?” he asked, startling you.

You blinked widely at him. “Practicing.”

He grinned crookedly. “For a staring contest?”

“To be a marine,” you said forcefully as you thrust the little sword out pathetically. “Father says I have to be the best.”

The boy plopped down on the grass in front of you, pulling at pieces of it and sprinkling them back down. “Yeah, my grandpa says the same. Too bad for him though.”

You examined him carefully, letting your sword drop to your side as you slowly knelt beside him. “Why too bad?”

A wicked grin crossed his face. “I’m not gonna be a marine.”

“What will you be?” you asked when he didn’t go on.

“I dunno. Happy, I guess.”

“Can marines not be happy?”

“Not the ones I’ve met.”

He had you there. You puffed up your cheeks, took a quick look around, and leaned in very close to whisper, “I don’t wanna be a marine either. But that’s a secret!”

The boy nodded quickly, his smile so bright you felt warm under its shine.

You wandered down the street, head in the clouds, as a ghost of that little boy dragged you along with him, your hand trapped in his. A smaller you was stumbling to keep up, your strides too short.

“C’mon! Shanks is back!”

“Wait! Luffy, you’re too fast!”

He always let you catch up. Always. You blinked and the little boy wore a straw hat now and had a scar on his cheek. He was terrifying you, slingshotting himself across a forest. He was holding your hand and scowling up at your father, slapped across the face a moment later. He was telling you about his dreams, and how in every one, there was you.

“I’ll be captain of a mighty ship! And you’ll be my first mate, won’t you?”

And he was watching as you remained on shore, standing beside his livid grandfather, left to face the consequences on your own. Left behind of your own accord, feeling as if there was never any other choice.

“But there’s always a choice,” you whispered, and it hit you like a train; you’d been making all the wrong ones.

The street fell to the background as you lifted your gaze from the ground, finding the docks right there in front of you. Somewhere, the Thousand Sunny rested on the water, her masthead peering out as if watching for you. All you had to do was step beyond the sidewalk and onto those wooden platforms.

Feet itching to step both forward and back, you held your breath as your muscles locked up. Your world dug in its heels yet the sun continued to set, ignoring your hesitance, growing tired of waiting on you. As your fingers dug into your pants, you willed time itself to stop, just to let you think this through a bit longer.

You were denied.

“If you wanna prove you’re not a coward, you know where to find him.”

You expelled all your breath in an utterance: “I’m not a coward.”

Shaky legs carried you down the docks, past little sloops and grand vessels, around lumbering sailors and lanky merchants. The air chilled your bones as night grew closer, winds casting in from the sea. Salt air filled your lungs and pushed at your back, wrapping around you and shoving you forward still.

You walked and walked till you hit the edge of a gangway, falling forward and landing on your palms with a yelp. Heaving a sigh, you glanced up, finding the top of the ramp you’d seen earlier. No burly swordsman stood at the top. No one stood in your way.

But could you get out of your own?

Jaw set, you shoved to your feet and stomped up to the deck, steps faltering when you finally made it. How… lackluster. You released your stiff shoulders as you cast a look around, finding no reason for alarm or vigilance. No armageddon or catastrophe. Only a peaceful ship deck, drifting upon calm waves.

Not a soul stood on deck. A bucket hinted that someone had mopped recently, and a book lay closed atop a beach chair. Somewhere below deck was a shouting, but you couldn’t make it out. Whatever horrible fate you’d expected to face was nowhere to be found.

You were here, and all was well.

A small sound came from behind you, and it sounded like your name.

For once in your life you didn’t think before you whipped around, gut lurching. The boy was so close. He looked older, like you thought he would, but still very much the same. A new scar ran across his chest, revealed by the open shirt across his shoulders, but it was without a doubt Monkey D. Luffy.

His eyes pierced you, reality sinking in and crumbling you. After all the years and worries and waiting, he stood only a few feet away. The world didn’t break. The sky didn’t fall. You weren’t struck down by some mighty force of fate. Luffy didn’t look angry at all—in fact, he looked almost happy.

A small smile trembled on his lips, eyes so bright. “You came back.”

His name left your lips like a gasp as you stumbled for him on unsteady legs. You hadn’t even blinked and he was there, hands grabbing at your shoulders and running down your arms so delicately, as if you might turn to mist right then and there.

You reached for his hand and clutched it tightly, lacing together your fingers and marveling at how easily they fit—a pair unhindered by time. Your eyes flickered up from your interlocked hands to find his eyes. The softness of his features knocked the breath out of you.

You broke the bated moment, throwing your arms around him and pulling him close, your chin finding his shoulder. Luffy held you tightly with his eyes wide and his breathing heavy.

“I’m sorry,” you gasped, ducking your chin to press your forehead to his collarbone. “I’m so—I won’t ever leave. Never. Please don’t—don’t—”

“I won’t,” Luffy murmured in your ear. His rubber arms extended to wrap around the two of you twice, for only once would never be enough. “I’m sorry.”

Just as tears began to break past your lash line Luffy took you by your arms and jerked you away from him, keeping you a breath away. “You never had to stay,” he practically hissed. “Why did you think you had to stay?”

He made it hard to think when he wiped the tears off your cheeks. All you could do was lean into his hands, stammering. “I just thought you’d be better—”

“No.” He shook his head. “No. No, why would you ever think that?”

You blinked, at a loss for an answer. “I dunno. I—I’m just fucked up like that. Self-destructive and… what-not…”

Luffy didn’t let you lower your head even as your cheeks warmed his hands. His fingertips traced the apples of your cheeks, memorizing the feel of your skin. He leaned closer, catching your gaze with a reassuring smile and stroke of your face. “I won’t leave you if you won’t leave me. Ever.”

Slowly, you nodded, a burn rising in your neck. “Deal.”

He pulled you into an impossibly tighter embrace, one hand cradling the back of your head, the other around your back. You hooked your hands around his shoulders and breathed ever so gently as his hand settled on your back, soothing the tension wrought throughout your body.

You shivered, nails slightly clawing at him. Close was not close enough. “I missed you.”

“Me too… Worm.” And the moment was broken as the most unflattering laugh left you. You pushed him off with a scoff, grinning wide as his brows vaulted innocently.

“Shut up! I don’t even read anymore!”

The smile quickly slid off his face, replaced by a face so cutely quizical. “Why not?”

“I just…” You thought of how to phrase it. “I don’t have anything to read, and if I did, I still don’t have the time.”

Just a beat later he had you by the hand, determined as he started to tug you along with him. “I’ve got something to show you.”

You were dragged below deck before you could say a word, led swiftly through the dimply lit hallways. His snickers and beaming smile flooded your head and left you helpless to ask anything at all, following after him as best you could. You passed by an open door that presumably led to a kitchen, briefly spying a crew of people gathered around a table as you zipped on by.

Luffy stumbled to a stop right outside a closed door. Chest heaving, you rose a brow. Luffy grinned, squeezed your hand, and pushed inside. It was dark, voidish shapes scattered around. Luffy left your side, rushing to a lantern and igniting it, casting the room in a warm glow. Jaw falling slack, you spun around, gaze flickering this way and that.

“A library,” Luffy said needlessly, at your shoulder once again. “Like I promised.”

On every wall a floor to ceiling shelf was littered with books tall and wide and thin. Your hand brushed the many spines, the deep warm colors and soft leather and canvas covers running under your fingertips. You pinched yourself next, heart hammering in your chest as you swiveled around, blinking quickly. “Luffy…”

It was one thing to hear that he’d never forgotten… but it was a very different thing to be standing in the tangible proof that Luffy never stopped believing.

It felt as if you were seeing him for the first time all over again, all doubts cast away and dashed out. He was the same Luffy, but he was stronger, mightier than the Luffy you’d known. More determined, if it was possible. As he stood there before you with a hope laden gaze, his dream felt real.

A shiver ran down your spine; Luffy would be the Pirate King, and by God, you’d be there to witness it.

Your fear had gone somewhere you couldn’t find nor feel it, and though it left a gap in your chest, that gap was quickly being filled by a ten-fold love for this boy.

You took his hand and held it in both of yours, peering into his eyes all glassy-like. “Thank you. For not giving up.”

He grinned, asking, “Was there ever any doubt?”

You’d get into that later, perhaps with a therapist should you pass one on the seas. For now, you scoffed a laugh and pulled him closer, a hand reaching for the scruff on his neck and carding through it. He leaned into you, nose brushing yours, as he pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead.

You pursed your lips despite sighing at the soft touch. “You missed.”

“I did?” Luffy snickered as you rolled your eyes. He caught you off guard, darting in to kiss you slowly, drawing you in close.

“Join my crew,” he asked—stated, more like—holding so much hope in his eyes that you had to stop just to admire him. You relished in the fact that he was right inf ront of you, reaching to trace his face from his temple to his jaw, vowing to never take him for granted ever again.

The tethers and cords of your souls melded back together, as they should have remained from the very beginning. “Yes, Captain,” you replied, laughing at how his smile grew brighter.

He gripped your hands in both of his, tugging you along as he retreated for the door. “Wanna meet the others?”

You dug your heels into the floor, chuckling dryly. “You know, maybe we should hold off till tomorrow, yeah?”

Luffy paused, brows meeting, blinking slowly. “Okay, if that’s what you want…”

Purring your lips, you looked from each of his eyes to his nose to his forehead, sighing when defeat found you. “You really want me to meet them now?”

The squeeze he gave your hands, along with how the smile grew back on his face, was answer enough. Another sigh pulled at your chest as nodded. “Lead the way.”

By the end of the hour, the entire crew had come to a decision: you fit in perfectly, even if they had to (gently) jam your piece into the puzzle just to get you to converse with them. “They’re nervous,” Luffy not so silently whispered to the others, causing heat to crawl up your neck as you pinched your nose.

Gathered around on various modes of seating, you found yourself wrapped in an uncanny warmth despite the chill of the sea air. You shared a crate with Luffy, thigh to thigh, his hand playing with your fingers as he recounted story after story of his adventures with his friends.

A bittersweet smile sat on your lips, happy he was happy, wondering what could have been if you’d gone with him. Stop it. It’s in the past.

“What about you,” Robin interrupted Usopp’s next inevitable tangent, eyes zeroed in on you. “Surely you’ve got stories.”

All eyes shifted to you, and the warmth fled the moment instantly. You shook you head quickly. “Nah, nothing as interesting as yours.”

Luffy bumped your shoulder, suddenly excited. “Then tell us a boring one! I wanna know what you’ve been doing.”

Grinning softly, you stared at your feet, twindling the toes of your boots.”I don’t want to think about it.”

That surely sucked the happiness out of air, replacing it with an ominous vagueness. Luffy’s side pressed against yours, and with a sigh you quickly broke the awkward silence. “Not all of it was bad, though. I had Koby—Oh! He says hello, by the way. I did some good things too, or I hope I did. Like, this one time, my captain at the time got a call from a nearby village.”

“The call was from this girl, I think,” you recalled. “She pleaded for help. These pirates had come in and plundered everything… The call ended in a gunshot.”

You had the whole crew’s attention then, the silence almost eerie. You cleared your throat. “So we took maybe twenty marines and headed to the island. By then the pirates had hostages at the center of the town.” You pushed back your shoulders, imitating your superiors. “Surrender now, said the captain, and the leader of the pirates obviously laughed in his face. Captain Gozi—that’s his name—kept pressing in, acting so docile, even as the pirate captain pressed a gun to the head of this young boy. Gozi is a good man, but we had differing opinions on how to go about the situation.”

Nami interjected, “How did you want to solve it?”

You hesitated before admitting, “Well, I did wind up solving it, and Gozi wasn’t too happy about it.”

“What did you do?” asked Chopper, his ears flitting back against his head.

“The pirate captain kept on laughing, and when Gozi continued to try to negotiate, the pirate threw the boy down and was about to shoot—so I shot first. Right here.” You tapped your forehead. “That’s actually the reason I was promoted to captain. They made me out to be a hero.”

“Woah,” Usopp sighed.

Zoro tilted his head. “So you shoot and you use a sword?”

“I’m sort of a jack of all trades, master of none.”

Sanji shrugged. “Still better than master of one.”

Before you could say something quippy in return, a swift peck was left on your cheek, leaving a blooming warmth on your skin. You whipped around to blink wide eyed at Luffy and his lopsided smile.

“What?” you laughed.

He gently kicked your foot. “I just really love you.”

A series of coos erupted from Nami and Chopper, along with some snickers from the boys, and you sat growing increasingly flustered under the attention. You rammed your forehead into Luffy’s shoulder to hide your face, dragging a bright laugh out of him.

Minutes later, when the focus shifted away from you and toward the next elaborate tale to be strung by the Great Usopp, as he called himself, you leaned into Luffy and murmured softly. “I really love you too.”

High above, the stars shined and wove themselves through the night sky, no longer tiring themselves with transferring the love of a pair between the edges of the seas—they were together again, at long last, and the stars rested easy now that Fate had had its fun.

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @its-not-too-late-for-coffee @khaleesihavilliard @gingernut1314 @lifesurfer2475 @shuujin @maybe-a-bi-witch @bi-narystars @luciledreamz @awenthealchemist @baku-boneless

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moonlightpetalz6 · 8 months

Text

Kinktober Day 8 (Food Play)

Character: Monkey D. Luffy x Reader

Reader: Fem Reader!

Warnings: NSFW, MDNI, smut, pet names, harsh language, spit/drooling into Luffy's mouth, lots of spit, use of food (Whipped cream, popsicles, chocolate syrup), oral (F receiving)

Wc: 4,066

A/n: I made this fic so filthy and gross I deeply apologize as I don't know what came over me. I tried my best to get all the warnings written above! I apologize if I missed any!

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"Geez, it's so hot out!" Nami whined while trying to fan herself with her hand. Robin nodded her head in approval as the three of you sat under an umbrella, trying to avoid the sun's torturous rays. "I know what you mean. I'm dying here!" You cried, wiping a few beads of sweat from your forehead. You look at the rest of the ship with a heavy sigh, watching your fellow crewmates mess around on deck. Luffy and Usopp were running around fishing poles in hand, with giant smiles as they perched themselves onto the ship ledge. You smiled, seeing your joyful captain/boyfriend still being able to enjoy today's weather before tugging at your top, watching as some beads of sweat trailed down into the area between your breasts, causing you to cringe at the feeling.

"Ugh! I hate this heat!" You yelled, gaining some glances from the other crew members, who laughed at your outburst. "Ladies~!" Sanji's voice calls out as the door leading to the kitchen swings open, revealing the grinning cook who held what appeared to be three popsicles in his hands. Turning your way, Sanji started dancing towards you with hearts for eyes. "I thought you lovely ladies would enjoy a cool treat on such a hot day!" His voice held so much enthusiasm and love, causing a slight giggle to leave yours and Robin's lips. Nami just sighed as she held her head in pain. "Why, thank you, Sanji," Robin spoke, placing aside the book she was reading as she took one from the blonde's hand.

"Sanji, my savior!" You cheered happily, accepting the yummy treat and instantly putting it in your mouth. The coolness of the frozen treat immediately sends a refreshing wave throughout your body as you savor the taste. Sanji just smiles, a bright dust of pink across his cheeks. "Anything for you girls~" He cooed, happy to see you all enjoying the cool treat. Luffy, whose ears had perked up at the sound of 'treat,' was looking in your direction, his eyes sparkling at the sight of the popsicles in the three girls' hands. "Heyyyy! Sanjiii! I want one, too!" Luffy yelled from his seated position, waving an energetic hand towards the cook, Usopp, following his lead, both laughing. You watch Sanji's face fall as he glares at the two men.

"Get your own dammit! These are for the ladies!" You watched as the three started yelling at each other. Usopp and your boyfriend complaining about how it wasn't fair, and that Sanji was a big jerk. Sanji cursed them out with a vein popping on his temple before walking away, ignoring the childish shouts from below. You hummed, twirling the popsicle around in your mouth as you watched the pout form on your adorable boyfriend's face, causing a small smile of your own. 'Oh, Luffy, you're just too cute!' You mentally gushed before standing up, gaining the two girls' attention. "You're not gonna offer him your popsicle, are you Y/n? You can't keep spoiling him like this!" Nami scolded, knowing you all too well as she watched you give a shy smile and a nervous laugh escaping your lips as you waved bye to them.

You make your way down the steps, watching as the popsicle starts to melt a bit now that it is directly under the heat of the burning sun. You shrug it off as you approach your boyfriend, watching his gaze stay focused on the fishing line. "Luffyyy~" You call, a slight hum in your tone as you step behind him. Luffy's ear twitches as he spares a glance back at you, eyes filled with curiosity. You tilt your head to adequately meet his gaze as you give one of your signature sugary sweet smiles that always made his heart feel like it would rip from his chest with how fast it beat. The pirate captain watched as you held your popsicle out towards him, face flushed from the heat, your skin shining from all the sweat dripping down your body.

Luffy gives you a giant smile as he jumps up from his seat, tossing his fishing pole aside as he hurriedly runs towards you. His hand reaches out to snatch the yummy treat from his girlfriend's generous hands, only to stop when he notices the sticky liquid dripping onto your hand, slowly trailing down your wrist. "Luffy?" You ask, a smile still on your face as you reach the popsicle further towards him. He quickly shakes his head and grins, snatching it from you, shoving the treat into his mouth, and humming at the flavor. Your flavor. Luffy blushes slightly as he picks up the slight taste of your saliva that had been left sticking to the flavored ice. His eyes travel over you carefully, landing on your plump lips that you carefully lick, probably trying to take in the lingering flavor you had moments ago. His gaze falls, watching your hand still covered in the melted juice. His eyes narrowed slightly as he thought of how your skin was becoming sticky, and boy, did he love seeing you all damp. His tongue twirls around the popsicle, his jaw tightening as he wonders what it would taste like if he went and licked it. Would it taste sweet like the popsicle or salty like your sweaty skin? Or even better, would it taste like a perfect mixer of both?

Luffy mentally groans at the thought, his throat expanding as he heavily swallows the saliva building up inside his mouth. He never understood why those kinds of ideas would pop into his mind, but whenever it came to his two favorite things, food, and his sweet girlfriend, he just couldn't help but inappropriately mix the two together in his mind. Your boyfriend is soon snapped out of his thoughts when he hears the shouts of his fishing buddy yelling at you. "No fair! Y/n, why can't you spoil me?!" Usopp cried dramatically, causing you to laugh as you gave a slight apology, clapping your hands together. You tell the sniper you were sorry and would make it up to him with a wink. This wasn't new, as the three of you were always playfully throwing flirty jokes or remarks at each other.

However, at the moment, Luffy felt a bit possessive and didn't like what he saw. 'Mine.' The childish thought ran through his mind as he went and snatched your wrist up into his hand, dragging it towards his face just inches away from his lips. "Luffy?" Your confusion is evident as you look at the man in wonder. Luffy doesn't say anything as he keeps eye contact with you, his eyes slightly narrowed as the light that usually sparkled so bright within his carefree orbs was dimmed as he went and licked a line up your wrist. Your eyes went wide in shock, your face going a deep red as your heart began to beat against your ribcage. Usopp's mouth dropped as he looked at his captain as if he had just said the most unbelievable thing. A slight blush soon adjourned his cheeks.

"H-hey Luffy! What's the big idea?! That's so gross!" Usopp yelled though he couldn't deny he found the scene a little hot. Luffy didn't say anything for a moment, his bangs falling in front of his eyes as his tongue took in the pleasurable flavor of your salty skin mixed with the sweetness that lingered throughout his mouth. He wanted more. "L-Luffy, I could have taken care of it myself!" You flushed from embarrassment as you tried to tug your wrist away to rub off the rest of the sticky substance from your fingers. Luffy's grip didn't let up as he beamed with a bright smile, a loud laugh booming from his stomach, causing the two of you to relax slightly, a few nervous laughs leaving your lips from the captain's usual nature.

"Sorry! I just didn't want it to go to waste!" He laughed, watching the two of you sigh, shaking your heads at the man. 'He's hopeless.' You both think in defeat. Luffy hums as he finishes the popsicle, tossing the stick behind him before smiling at you, eyes locking. "Y/n, I want more! Help me get past Sanji!" He pleads as he hugs you, almost causing you to fall onto the deck's wood. You giggle at him, nodding as you find you could never tell your captain no. Luffy's smile only seems to grow at your response as he quickly drags you towards the kitchen, leaving Usopp to continue fishing alone. Luffy's eyes give your wrist a quick glance, his heart running wild as he secretly licks his lips. Unknown to you, your adorable and innocent boyfriend was planning something filthy for when you got into the kitchen.

He pushes the door open with a bit too much energy as it crashes against the wall, causing the cook inside to flinch as he glares in your direction. "Sanjiiii! I want some popsicles!" Luffy demanded with a giant laugh as he dragged you inside after him. "I told you no dammit! Don't drag poor Y/n in here just to get what you want!" Sanji scolds while drying his hands with a small rag. You look between the two, knowing the situation will go nowhere, as you bring a finger to your chin in thought. After a moment, an idea pops into your head, a smile gracing your lips as you carefully clear your throat to get the men's attention. "Sanji, I actually wanted to come to ask you a favor." You lie innocently, placing a hand on your chest.

"A favor?" The blonde questions while fully taking in your words. His face soon lights up as he throws his arms in the air. "Of course, my dear Y/n! Anything for you, I am at your service!" He cries lovingly. Luffy's eye twitches in annoyance but goes unnoticed as you continue to execute your little scheme. "I was wondering if you could bring Chopper some cold water and possibly some treats, he likes. I'm worried for him due to this heat." You felt terrible using the adorable doctor as an excuse to help your boyfriend sneak food from the helpless romantic, but Luffy's needs came first in your eyes. Sanji clenches his heart as his jaw clenches. "Y/n, my dear, you are just a pure angel!" He groaned before quickly snatching up what you requested and dashing out the door. You let out a little giggle, shaking your head.

"I feel guilty." You admit, looking back at your boyfriend. Luffy just hums, kissing your lips quickly, catching you by surprise as he gives you a cheeky smile before lifting you up by the waist, causing you to let out a small squeak. He laughs as he places you on the table, slightly squeezing your thighs as he approaches the fridge and freezer. You hummed, kicking your feet as you patiently waited for him to finish raiding the refrigerator, hoping Sanji wouldn't return while you were still there. Your mind suddenly goes back to Luffy's earlier action, the look on his face burning into your memory, causing you to blush as you press your legs together, shamefully, feeling yourself getting turned on by something Luffy had admitted was of pure intent. Right?

Suddenly, you feel something cold press against your lips, causing you to flinch back as you look to see Luffy pressing a popsicle to your lips. He smiled, shoving it back onto the tender skin. "I got this one for you!" He smiles, arms full of all kinds of things. You take note of the chocolate syrup, whipped cream, and one other popsicle. You raise a brow at these choices, not fully understanding what he could possibly make with such a strange mixture. Luffy notices your gaze, and his smile slowly turns into a smirk, eyes narrowing with lust as he opens his mouth to speak. "Come on, Y/n, be a good girl and take it." The darker tone of his voice shocks you, along with his choice of words. You go to say something only to gag slightly as he takes the opportunity to shove the cold treat into your mouth, the tip lightly hitting the back of your throat. The small gagging noises cause Luffy to beam with joy as he watches your lips cutely wrap around the already melting treat.

"It tastes good, right?" He questions while carefully spreading your legs so he can stand between them as he sets the items in his arms next to you on the table. You give a shy nod, unable to keep eye contact with your boyfriend, as this side of him always turns you into a flustered mess. Luffy laughs as he brings his hands to your thighs, gently stroking them with his thumbs as they slowly trail up your body. "Y/n, everyone always says how you spoil me, right?" He whispers, placing a kiss on your cheek as he goes to lick the part of the popsicle that wasn't in your mouth, his eyes taking in your embarrassed expression. "You're always so sweet and good to me~ I love it so much!" He laughs as he goes and pins you against the table.

"So, will you spoil me right now, sweetheart? Can I play with your body while getting my tasty treat?" He begs, eyes shimmering with desire as his chest tightens while awaiting your response. You hum against the popsicle, not having a free hand to remove it as Luffy holds your wrists above your head. He smiles happily, removing the popsicle from your mouth and watching some of your saliva mixed with the color of the treated juice slide past the corner of your lips down your chin. Luffy bites the inside of his cheek, feeling his shorts getting tighter as he places the popsicle in his mouth, tilting his head as he waits for you to speak. The sight gets you going as a blush forms on his face while he desperately sucks at the treat. "Okay, Luffy, I'll spoil you again today, okay?" You breathe lust developing in your beautiful orbs. Luffy smiles, removing the popsicle as he hungrily kisses your lips. You moan, feeling his tongue quickly slip past your lips as it swirls all around inside your mouth, desperate for our taste.

Luffy pulls away a few pants falling from his lips as he looks down at you with a needy expression. "So sweet…your taste is so good mixed with the popsicle." He admits as he goes and shoves the melting treat back into your mouth. "Keep sucking on it, sweetheart~ I wanna make sure your mouth tastes really yummy once I get my fill~" He laughs, giving you a toothy grin. You cock your head to the side, not fully understanding your lover's words until he is yanking your shirt down, exposing your breasts, still damp from the heat. Luffy licks his lips as he reaches for the whipped cream, eyes sparkling with excitement as he goes and carefully places the cold substance against one of your mounds, causing a chill to run through your body from the feeling.

"It feels nice, right?! I wanted to put cool things on your body because I knew you were complaining about the heat!" His happy laugh causes your eyes to soften as you look up at him lovingly, finding the way he's still thinking about you even though he's getting so caught up in his desires. It's absolutely adorable as you swallow some of the melting juice, a small gulp echoing in the room. Luffy smirks as he grabs your waist with both hands, leaning just inches away from the covered mound. "Don't worry~ I'm a fast eater~" He teases before wrapping his lips around the sweet cream, the texture of that and your soft, squishy flesh driving him wild as his tongue twirls around your nipple feeling it starting to grow harder under his tongue as he goes to sink his teeth around it causing a muffled gasp from you as you went to pull the popsicle from your mouth to scold him. "If you take it out, I'll stop!" He pouts up at you, whining like a child. Your hand twitches as you slowly release the stick; you feel too worked up to let him leave you like this. He nods in approval before continuing to suck and pull at your swollen nipple wanting to get every last lick of the cream from your tasty skin. After getting all of it, he pulls away with a satisfied pop, watching his saliva fall back onto your sticky skin.

"It's so tasty, Y/n! I love how salty your skin is right now. It tastes so good with the whipped cream!" He praises as he goes and opens the chocolate syrup. "Now let me try the other one~" He giggles, eyes watching with so much hunger as the brown liquid falls to your skin, slowly dripping down the squishy mound. "Oops!" He cried quickly, going to lick up the places where the thick syrup ran down on your breast. "Can't have any of it going to waste right baby~" He purrs, going to suck on the mound moaning at how your taste seemed to get even better with the new sweet treat that enhanced your already delectable taste. Luffy's mouth was salivating as drool started slipping from his lips, making sure to leave your chest covered in spit.

Luffy snapped out of his trance when he felt your legs tighten around him, signaling you were feeling good from his actions. Luffy hums, loving that he could make you feel this good with his newfound interest as he slides his hand down your shorts, the tips of his fingers coming in contact with the drenched spot of your panties. "Are you turned on Y/n?" He asks, though he already knows the answer as he goes and pulls the half-melted treat from your mouth. You gasped as you felt your jaw relax from the loss inside your mouth as you tried to swallow all the spit. Luffy stops you as he grabs your cheeks with his free hand. "Don't swallow it." He growls, not wanting to miss a single new taste that was to come from his filthy desires. You watch as he goes and slides your pants down, taking in a small breath as his eyes take in just how wet you are, his erection painfully pressing against his shorts, causing a slight whine to leave his throat.

"Sit up for me, baby." He mumbled, helping you sit up on the table as he wrapped his arms around your waist, looking up at you with an almost drunk expression." I want it in my mouth, baby~ I bet it tastes delicious~" He sings, opening his mouth, tongue sticking out. You feel your pussy throb at the sight of you, having never seen Luffy so aroused before. You do as told, allowing the mix of your spit and the melted treat to fall down your boyfriend's needy throat. You watch his eyes roll back from the taste as he quickly closes his mouth, allowing his taste buds to savor the flavor. It was just so good that Luffy felt he couldn't last much longer.

"Shit, so fucking tasty, baby! I love how much you spoil me~" Luffy moans as he reaches for the other popsicle he had gotten, watching as it leaked as soon as he pulled the wrapper away, watching as it got all over his hand. Your eyes are narrow as you gently grab his wrist, catching him by surprise as he watches you slowly lick at his digits, carefully taking them inside your sweet little mouth. The sight drove your captain mad as he went and pulled your panties down, pressing the cold melting treat to your folds, earning a tiny squeak from you. "L-Luffy, it's cold and sticky! That's so gross!" You whined, the strange feeling between your thighs causing you to wiggle and squirm from your seated position. Luffy just smiled loving the way you were acting as he found you to be the cutest girl on these seas, he decided to set sail on.

"Awe, come on, Y/n~ Please let me do this~ I promise I'll clean it all up!" He whined, pressing his chest to yours as he gave you an adorable pout. You mentally cursed as you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him in for a passionate kiss. Luffy smiles at this as he goes and presses the popsicle past your folds, listening to your slick mix with the sticky syrup. It was music to his ears. You continued to whine at the feeling while Luffy's kisses grew hungrier by the second. "You're gonna taste so good." He whispers, pulling away from the kiss with a shaky breath as he slides down to his knees to get a better angle of the sticky mess between your legs. He removes the popsicle, holding it up to you, wanting to see you taste what he was about to aggressively consume with his drooling mouth.

You slowly take the dripping treat, eyes locked with his as you slide it into your mouth, tasting yourself amongst the sweet flavor, causing a moan to rumble in your throat. Luffy licks his lips as he spreads your legs more, allowing him to see just how sticky he made your pussy. "I'm starving." He whined before hungrily eating away at your pussy, the noises echoing off the kitchen walls as Luffy tasted what he deemed to be his new favorite meal. You moan, tossing your head back from how fast your boyfriend's tongue was lapping at your pussy occasionally twirling the wet muscle around your clit. Luffy moans, feeling his brain go fuzzy as he shakily pulls away for a moment, heavy pants leaving his mouth as he looks up at you through lidded eyes.

"You're pussy tastes so good, Y/n." He whines, going to rub your clit with his thumb as he leaves bites along your inner thighs, his hunger only seeming to grow as he lets out a few whines while palming himself through his pants. You finish the popsicle slowly, bringing the stick from your lips as you release a few pants. "You always say that, Luffy~" You whine, though you loved him complimenting your body as it made you feel special. Luffy smiles, giving you his signature laugh as he goes and gives your pussy a few long licks, his tongue not getting enough of your taste.

"But Y/nnnn! Your pussy is extra tasty today! I just want to eat it forever~" He whines, sliding a finger into your twitching hole, causing you to buck your hips at the sudden pleasure of letting out a deep moan as Luffy continues his assault on your needy mess. "So good, sososo yummy! My sweetheart's yummy pussy!" Luffy moans, feeling your walls clench around his fingers as he continues to stroke himself through his shorts, his cock twitching as precum leaks from his tip. Your fingers entangle with his black locks, sweaty palms gripping and pulling on his hair as you feel the knot inside becoming too much.

"Luffyyyyy~ Gonna cum! I'm gonna cum!" You whine, legs twitching. Luffy moans at your words wanting to taste your cum on his sticky tongue as he sucks on your clit. "Come on, sweetheart spoil your adorable captain~" He coos, removing his fingers as his tongue replaces them, sliding as deep as it would go the taste of your walls, something he would never get sick of. "I wanna get my tasty treat~" His words are muffled, but you can still hear what he says as your back arches, eyes rolling far back into your skull, feeling your orgasm rushing through your body. Luffy quickly swallows all of it, not wanting to miss a drop of his girl's sweet juices as he feels himself cum, his hand getting coated in thick white strands as he lets out the most resounding groan you've ever heard. After a moment, he pulls away, face drenched in your release as he happily licks his lips, a pussy drunk look on his face as he swallows more saliva.

"Y/n~ I wanna be spoiled again~"

#one piece luffy #one piece #one piece smut #one piece x y/n #one piece x reader #one piece x female reader #kinktober 2023 #x reader #fem reader #fanfic smut #smut #fanfic #fanfiction #monkey d. luffy #luffy #luffy x reader #luffy x y/n #straw hat luffy #luffy smut

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moonywritez6 · 5 months

Text

Kinktober Day 8 Food Play (Reupload)

Character: Monkey D. Luffy x Reader

Reader: Fem Reader!

Warnings: NSFW, MDNI, smut, pet names, harsh language, spit/drooling into Luffy's mouth, lots of spit, use of food (Whipped cream, popsicles, chocolate syrup), oral (F receiving)

Wc: 4,066

A/n: Hello my sweets! Unfortunately, I got locked out of my old blog account, so I had to make a new one! So, chances of you having seen this before are high as it's on my old account! (I am so sad about it honestly). But I am going through all my old accounts posts and reuploading them here! I hope you can still enjoy my works!

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"Y/n~ I wanna be spoiled again~"

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sweetandgentlecreature · 10 months

Text

Homeward Bound

Author’s Note: Hello, lovely readers! I’d like to introduce myself. My name is Amanda, and I’ve been a long-time fan and lurker of every iteration of the Cavill tag. As a southern(ish) small town native myself, I have quite the soft spot in my heart for our sweet military Captain. I absolutely adore all of the works and worlds we’ve created around a character that doesn’t even have a first name. It’s been a long time coming that I finally dust off the old chromebook and give it a crack as well. I hope you enjoy my first take on ole Sy.

The only warnings I have for you this time are for explicit language and implied mentions of smut, so please do not interact if you are under the age of eighteen. All mistakes are my own, gif credit goes to the owner. Otherwise, please don’t hesitate to reach out, share your thoughts, or just fangirl along with me. Thanks for stopping by!

“Shut the fuck up! Cowboy’s got an old lady?! Who’d wanna fuck that ogre?”

Liquor flowed like the newly established running water in that small, nameless village they’d been exiled in for far too long. Two more weeks in this shithole and they’d be on the first redeye outta here. Sy could almost smell the fresh texan air, feel the warm breeze blowing in through the open window of his old pickup. Crickets chirped behind his closed eyelids, fireflies danced in the treeline behind the house. The steady creaking of that old porch swing made his heart hurt as he thought about her bare feet urging it to rock back and forth, back and forth. For a moment, he could taste the sweet tea in his favorite mason jar, fresh brewed and ice cold as it clung to his mustache in sticky, damp droplets. He licked his dry lips and shook his head, chuckling softly under his breath as he eavesdropped on the conversation as it unfolded in the next room.

“Have you lost your mind, Private? Do you want him to put your ass on latrine duty for the rest of our stay? He catches wind of you talkin’ shit about his woman, and they’ll be shipping us all back in pine boxes.” Cole scoffed and shook his head. They’d spent nearly a year out here busting their asses to get the water flowing again and he wouldn’t let the actions of one drunk jackass get him in trouble with the boss. He took a heavy pull from the amber bottle in his hands and sighed. “For the record…even a blind squirrel finds a nut every now and then.” His comment sent the rest of the platoon howling with laughter. Sy simply smirked. He got that one from me.

Cracking open the old metal tin with his name spray painted across the top, Syverson took out the stack of letters he’d accumulated over the last several months he’d spent away from home. “One last time, darlin’” he promised her. “Then I’m all yers. Ye’ll be sick’a me. Beg me ta’ get outta yer hair.”

In truth, the thought of returning to civilian life scared him a bit. He enlisted the moment he could on the day he turned eighteen. Signed his life away, threw himself to the wolves, and got married to the job. Two decades later, he wasn’t sure he’d be any good at keeping a normal schedule. Johnny at the sawmill promised he’d hold a place for him when he got back, but spitting sawdust day in and day out somehow seemed worse than dodging bullets. His last tour was shorter than this one was. He’d barely been home long enough to shit, shower, and shave before word came down the line that he’d be shipping out again. The look on her face when he sat her down for dinner that night to break the news…he’ll never forget it.

Sy brushed a thumb over the stack of neatly folded letters in his hand. He’d read and reread them a million times while he waited for a new one to come in. Phone calls weren’t guaranteed out here. Even the satellite phone struggled to hold a connection. Conversations over noisy interference were brief. “How ya doin’, baby? How’s yer mom an’ them?” “Has the screen door been given’ ya fits again? It’s first on my list” “Alright, darlin’, I best be goin’. Keep sayin’ yer prayers fer us. Good girl. I love ya, sugar.” Nervous energy churned in his gut as he thought about laying eyes on her again. He wondered how long her hair had gotten. She knew he liked it long. Long enough to wrap around his fist and pull her back into him as he… Fuck. He couldn’t think about that right now. Two more weeks. Two more weeks and he’d be home. Home for good.

—

Life bustled around him as heavy, dusty boots thudded dully across the floor of the Houston airport. Men in suits talked into cell phones and toted briefcases as they brushed past him to get their luggage. Kids headed off to their fall semesters embraced their parents one last time before heading to the gate. Sy moved with a smooth, calculated accuracy to dodge the crowd as his eyes scanned faces for a familiar one. His heart thudded hard in his chest, the rush of his pulse flooding his ears over the sound of muffled last calls over the loudspeaker above.

Syverson wasn’t one to worry too much, but when he couldn’t find her right away, a voice in his head scolded him. “Ya must’a told her the wrong day, ya dumb motherfucker. Now what’re ya gonna do? Ain’t got no cash ta pay for a cab. Hitchhike? Flash a tit for a ride back ta’ town?” But then, he heard it. Clear as day, loud enough to rid the thoughts from his mind and send goosebumps skittering up and down his tanned forearms.

“Clayton.”

Sy stopped suddenly, nearly bumped into the couple who walked behind him, and turned on his heels. He mumbled a half-assed apology to the disgruntled folks he plowed into as he brushed by them. The man was on a mission. Ditching the old green duffel bag at his feet, he threw open his arms as she met him half way and threw herself against his chest.

He was an impenetrable wall, the force nearly knocking the wind from her lungs as she crashed into him. Tears brimmed in her eyes, wide and wild, the color of sea glass, gleaming in the fluorescent lights above as she searched his face. The lines at the corner of his eyes were deeper, a new scar graced his left temple and was already a soft shade of pink as it faded. A soft, satisfied smile spread across her freckled cheeks as she smoothed a hand over the center of his chest, letting it fall to rest over his heart. The steady thump of each beat against her palm gave her a sense of peace. He was whole; he was home.

“You’re late,” she chuckled, fisting his clean, pressed t-shirt and tugging him down for a quick kiss. Sy grasped her tightly, a rough hand coming up to hold the back of her head to keep her still. His eyes were alight with a silent warning as he held her close. Nuh uh, lil girl. Yer not goin’ anywhere.

“Nah, baby,” he breathed out, a playful smirk tugging at his lips as he brought them down to meet hers once more. “I’m right on time.”

—

“What’s this I hear about us getting a dog?” Sy had his arm slung over her shoulder as they walked out of the sliding double doors. He toted the duffel higher, up over his other shoulder as they paused at the curb and let traffic pass by.

“She’s in quarantine right now. Once she’s cleared, we can pick ‘er up in a couple of weeks. Ye’ll love her, scout’s honor.”

Her laugh was music to his ears, as she shook her head and rolled her eyes at him. “Of course. You just can’t quit picking up strays, can you, big guy?” They crossed the path and headed out to the parking lot to find the beat up old Chevy that awaited them. The thought of her having to scoot the bench seat all the way up to peer over the steering wheel made him grin.

“Hey, I picked you up. Look at us now.” That earned him a swat across the chest as she broke away to unlock the driver’s side door. Boy, was she a sight for sore eyes. This. The whitty back and forth. This is what he missed the most.

“Oh, shut up, asshole. You were drunk. I had to drive us back to your place, remember?” Sy stopped her before she could get the door open. He dumped his bag into the bed of the truck and backed her up against the side of it, reaching out to brush her hair over her shoulder.

“Let’s make a pitstop on the way home, alright? It’ll be quick.”

Her face burned bright red, and she giggled nervously as her eyes darted around them, worried that they might catch the attention of some nosy onlookers if she’d heard him right. “Clay…we haven’t even made it out of the parking lot yet. Let’s just go home and–” He let out an amused snort as he shook his head. Devil woman.

“Nah, baby…not like that.” He slipped his hand into the back pocket of her jeans to draw her in close as he met her gaze. His voice was soft and sure. His mama was right. She’d been waiting on him long enough.

“I was thinkin’ somethin’ a little more…clerical. We’ve got some business ta’ attend to. At the courthouse.” Sy squeezed a handful of her backside, just enough to earn a little yip of surprise from her parted lips. “Gotta change yer last name.”

#captain syverson #syverson fanfiction #syverson fluff #syverson smut #henry cavill #henry cavill smut #henry cavill fluff #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill one shot #fic rec

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jpitha · 1 month

Text

Between the Black and Gray 30

First / Previous / Next

Fen could only describe the next few days as odd. Around her extended family Zhe started to change. Her language became more gruff and she carried two soar-knives. They were thin, razor sharp leaf shaped blades connected to her wrists with a reel of monofilament wire. She showed Fen how they're used. She can toss them lightly or with force and they fly from her hands and soar across a room. If they don't find a target, she can swing her arms and cause the monofilament to fly around, causing mayhem where they touch. They were originally developed by the Gren who never really developed traditional throwing weapons, but their bladed weapons were bar none. Fen thought it odd that they made the soar knife one that could be thrown, but Zhe explained that it was developed after the Gren made it to space, so it was probably an accommodation for microgravity.

Regardless of why it was developed, it was a wicked weapon and Zhe was a master in its use. Fen started carrying around her battle rifle as well, slung to her back. It wasn't out of place, most of the pirates were armed on the Heap. Fen offered Northern a pistol to carry, but she turned her nose up at the weapon. "The day I need a gun to defend myself is a sad day Fen." She refused to elaborate.

Everyone onboard was friendly, but standoffish. Fen was willing to chalk that up to them being new on the Heap, but Zhe was worried. "Sure, they're careful about visitors, but I'm family for Ancestors sake. Once I vouch for you, it should be songs and drinking time. Instead they're... polite." Zhe's ears twitched, irritated. "Something is going on."

"Like what? Do you think Hemmi is causing trouble?" They were back onboard the Frigate. Northern wasn't connected, so it was just some rooms and a kitchen for them. The airlock was sealed though.

"Or in trouble. If he was here, I'd have a better handle on everyone. Hemmi has been in charge for cycles. He's practically an institution."

Northern glanced at Fen who tried not to make a face.

"What?" While they were with the pirates, Zhe also seemed to become more aware. It was fascinating to Fen. She was practically developing into another person - or her real personality was starting to surface.

"I wonder if we arrived at a bad time, Zhe. It feels like leadership on the Heap is changing."

Zhe's tail started to flick back and forth. "You're thinking a coup? Hemmi wouldn't stand for it, he'd space everyone he could find that was planning to oust him. It's not like he's never done it before."

Fen blinked, "He... spaced people?"

"Sure, how else are you going to send a message that insubordination won't be tolerated. Hemmi is in charge, what Hemmi says goes."

Fen leaned forward, fascinated. "Hemmi is like your father, right?"

"Like? Hemmi is my father." Zhe smiled.

"K'laxi don't normally care about that sort of thing. At least my famililal line didn't. There were the adults, there were the kids and there were the elders. Who came from whom was never discussed."

"Hemmi was not into that whole thing. He cared about the kids he sired and where they came from. Moms thought it was silly, but he always ran paternity tests. I was Hemmi's kid and he was raising me to lead after him." Zhe turned away from them. "Then, I left to go straight and I know it broke Hemmi's heart. I hope he's all right. I want to see him."

While Zhe was brooding in the kitchenette, there was a repeating tone over the speakers. Northern looked up and made a face. "Fen, that's a radio beacon. We're being hailed."

Fen unfolded her pad and tapped and slid until she found ship controls, and then tapped and slid again until she found the radio. The signal was scratchy and weak, from far across the system. "-dentified frigate, unidentified frigate, this is Hemmi Navarren and I'm hoping you're here to lend me a hand." His voice sounded out of breath and tired.

Zhe's ears pricked and she shouted. "Daddy! It's Zhe, what's wrong?"

There was a pause on the line. Fen had thought it was cut, but then there was a shuddering sigh. "You came back sunbeam. You came back. Ancestors, it's good to hear your voice." As soon as he heard Zhe's voice he sounded stronger, as if he was given a burst of energy. "Listen sunbeam, there's trouble. Rev knows about it, but he has declared himself to be neutral. Have you been aboard the Heap?"

"Yes Daddy, everyone seems standoffish, but they were polite enough."

"That's because they knew what was happening, and didn't want you to know. I imagine they were hoping you would come, and then leave right away."

"Wait wait wait, everyone was treading on eggshells because they didn't want Zhe to know? Why?"

Even through the weak radio signal, everyone could hear Hammi's grin. "Because Zhe is merciless. Once I turn her loose, It will be like a hull breach. It will be like a hurricane." He pronounced the human word oddly, like he wasn't used to speaking Colonic. "Zhe hon. They tried to kill me. They nearly succeeded. I beat them back and spaced the rest, but my runabout is damaged. I'm printing some parts to fix the wormhole generator, but I won't be able to link to the Heap until tomorrow. Can you do me a favor?"

"Anything Daddy." Zhe's voice was a tight whisper, and her furred hands were already gripping the soar-knives.

"Go take care of them. Leave Rev, leave Elmar, and leave Xiian."

"See you soon Daddy."

"See you soon, sunbeam."

The line was cut. Fen listened to the backround of radiation of space for two beats before she looked over at Zhe. She was already making her way towards the airlock. "Zhe! Wait!"

Zhe turned and whipped her face around to Fen, her mouth a snarl, and her ears vibrating. "Fen, either come help or lock yourself in the frigate until I'm done. I've got work to do."

Fen spun her rifle to the front and racked a fresh round. "You're not doing this alone. If you're sure this is what you need to do, I'm with you all the way."

For just an instant, Zhe's face registered something Fen was surprised to see. She saw, anger. Anger at Fen coming along? Fen found it odd, she was having an easier time reading body language. She was always decent at it, but now it was like nobody had any secrets for her. She then softened. "It will be dangerous Fen."

"The way everyone here is frightened of you? The way Hemmi said you were like a hurricane?" Fen winked. "I'll come along. I need to make sure you survive to meet Hemmi at the dock."

Zhe turned to Northern. "And you?"

Northern held up both her hands. "And ruin my clothes? These are the latest from Hyacinth. No, I'll go become the ship again and keep an eye out for people trying to make a getaway, and waiting to hear from your Dad."

"Thanks Northern, thanks Fen." Zhe pushed the cycle button on the airlock. "Let's go make sure my Dad has a place to come home to."

As they stepped into the Heap, there was a K'laxi that Fen didn't recognize standing around. His gun - a human pistol modified for K'laxi use - was in its holster around his chest, and his tail was limp and his years droopy. He was clearly bored. Zhe flicked the soar knife at him and took his head off before he even registered their presence.

With a twist of her wrist, the soar knife reeled itself back to her hand, the blood flying off as it returned. "This way Fen." She pointed towards one of the doors over to the side. Striding up to it, the door slid open automatically.

"Oh Hey, Fe-" Another K'laxi's head removed before they could even finish their sentence. As they continued down the hall, Fen would see someone, kill them, and continue on. Fen followed mute, wondering what was going on. Surely there would be an alarm by now? Wasn't there some kind of central administration? Was the Heap really just a pile of ships loosely tied together?

They reached a bar or cantina or something. There were a few dozen people inside eating, drinking, playing games, nothing special, nothing specific. Zhe walked in and scanned the crowd. She gestured for Fen to stand back. As they did the bartender looked up and said, "Hey Zhe, are you here-" As their head was removed.

Zhe flicked both soar knives out and spun. This time, there was enough people that the screams could be heard. Fen would stand and gesture with her arms as the nearly invisible monofilament wire careened about the room. Tables, chairs, lights, flesh, nothing stopped it. People would stand up to reach for their gun and their top half would slide off their bottom half. They'd drop to the floor and try and shimmy away, and the blade of the knife would find the back of their neck. All Fen could do was watch and see if anyone got away.

None did.

Eventually, the screams turned to gurgles and whimpers, and then stopped. Zhe reeled the knives back to her hands and turned. In the corner was Rev, who was standing still as a statue, his hand still holding his drink, halfway to his mouth.

She was next to him in a flash, one of the knives in her hand millimeters from his eye. "Hemmi says you live." She looked down at his arm. "But living is a spectrum, isn't it?" She twisted her wrist awkwardly and the hand holding the drink popped off like it was a toy. To his credit, Rev didn't scream, but Fen could see the color run from his skin under his fur. Zhe reached into a pocket and slapped a portable med over the stump. "If I find that you reattached it, I'll take another and cauterize the stump with a laser." All he could do was nod.

"We're not done yet, Fen." Zhe didn't even look back as she left the bar.

They continued on, and there was a sound like thunder, distant and rumbling" Northern's firing the slug throwers." Zhe's answer was distant, distracted.

"Sorry ladies, had a ship try and make a break from the Heap. Zhe, do you want it destroyed or just disabled?"

"Disable it. No sense in wasting scrap. We'll take care of the crew and strip it for parts later. If nothing else, it'll have a wormhole generator." She stopped and thought. "Actually Northern, can you hole it? We can patch a hole, and that saves us the effort of boarding."

"If I couldn't do that, I'd have no right piloting a frigate, Zhe." They heard a sound like a single loud muffled thump, like someone dropped a dictionary in the next room. "They're holed. I can see them venting atmo. Should be gone by the time you're done with your massacre."

"Thanks Northern" Zhe continued on. "That ship probably held Xiian, daddly will be sad he died, but he'll understand."

"Who is Xiian?" Fen had decided a while back her only job was to follow along and give Zhe someone to talk to when she needed it.

"He's the one who tried to usurp daddy last time. He kept him alive as a warning."

"A warning about what?"

"A warning to others about what happens when you cross Hemmi Navarren. The idea was that anyone who got ideas would speak to Xiian and he'd set them straight. Worked for a few years, until it didn't." Almost as an afterthought, an alarm sounded throughout the Heap. Zhe looked up and frowned. "That'll be Elmar. She thinks that I won't kill her."

"Why would she think that?"

"She's one of my moms."

"Oh." K'laxi mating practices are... chaotic. Part of the reason that they didn't tend to place a lot of emphasis on who came from who was the fact that that nobody was ever really sure. Hemmi was unusual that he would run paternity tests to find 'his' kids, but apparently he never did that to find out which one of the females birthed them.

Zhe broke into a run and she took off down a hall. Fen ran to catch up. "Zhe, it seems like there's not a lot of people here?"

"Yeah, I think most of them left when word of the coup got out. People either loyal to Daddy but who didn't want to get involved, or people who wanted to just wait for it all to blow over. Makes our job easier at least. Hey Northern!" Zhe had toggled her comm. "Anyone else try to leave?"

"No Zhe, not yet. Though, I think I see your dad's runabout. I just caught a glimpse of a ship linking in nearby. They're a good distance out though, and keeping station."

"Yeah, that'll be dad. He's giving me a chance to finish the job."

"You have an odd family, Zhe."

"Oh, they're fine once you get to know them Northern. We'll have a reunion soon."

#humans are deathworlders #humans are space orcs #sci fi writing #humans are space oddities #humans and aliens #jpitha #writing #humans and ai #humans are space capybaras #humans are space australians #Between the black and gray

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mean-scarlet-deceiver · 3 months

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😘

For Valentine's Day, here are shipping... not headcanons so much as scenes that I would like to put into fic form but, let's be for real, I'll only ever get around to writing 1 out of 6 of these. So instead let me just tell you how the scenes go!

(Note: They are all silly but they are not all fluffy.)

Henry x Bear:

Henry bringing Bear to his forest (which is actually a spur off the Peel Godred branch line) for the first time circa 1971-ish and being kind of gruffly shy about this because This Is His Heart and he's trying to sound soooo offhand as he mentions that he just likes to visit here sometimes… get away from it all… for the past fifty years cough… and Bear just looking around and having a heart attack at how some roots are literally driving up the track ahead of them and measuring the four inches between them and the foliage and being like HENRY. HENRY I’M SORRY BUT. HOW. HOW IS THIS LEGAL. HOW HAVE YOU NOT CAUSED A FIRE HERE

I guess this one doesn't end on a very romantic note but it does make me laugh.

Edward x BoCo:

This one is even more messed-up but it also makes me laugh. I tend to imagine occasionally even work on a way-too-complicated WIP of Edward and BoCo getting to know each other during the three years before “The Diseasel” and also things on the mainland are, like. Bad. Really, really bad. BoCo is way too busy chronically dealing with stress levels set to 9 out of 10 to in any way acknowledge his growing romantic feelings about Edward…

… until one day when he’s been working further inland for a few days and as he starts returning ‘home’ he hears word that Edward was left in Barrow shed for a day and somehow spent the day out and about on B.R. jobs and BoCo RUSHES back - albeit a quiet, understated sort of way - all but teleports! - he NEEDS to find out RIGHT AWAY if his oh-so-innocent-cinnamon-roll is even still ALIVE :( let alone finding out how bullied he’s been :( only at the end of three hours in a sort of moving heart attack to find Edward at Barrow shed apparently now pals with everyone and swapping tales of Furness past and present with all the worst characters imaginable eating out of his palm and being like oh hello! yes i did get out and about it’s been lovely :) and BoCo trying not to shout in front of everyone I THOUGHT THERE WAS A REAL CHANCE YOU WERE DEAD OR KIDNAPPED AND SENT HALFWAY ACROSS THE COUNTRY BY NOW I CAME PREPARED TO COMMIT MURDER and Edward with an unbroken smile being casually like Oh yes :) Five different diesels tried :) No dw you can see I’m fine haha :) Incidentally at least a few of your brothers would sell you to the Gronk mafia for a corn chip :) yes the ones I’m sharing a chummy laugh with rn :) I had no idea things here were so bad I am putting you under protective custody on Sodor immediately :)

Mavis x Daisy:

Mavis has been down coz things have been so dull.

Daisy comes to her beloved's rescue!

... by throwing the world’s fakest mechanical breakdown at Ffarquhar and being like ‘oh DEAR i am ILL I am FALLING APART i NEED my dearest Mavis to HELP ME WITH THIS ONE MILK TANKER or else my SWERVES will IMPLODE’ and literally every human on scene doing a facepalm.

Mavis has a grand time although - when they manage to swing this journey all the way to Tidmouth Harbour - Mavis shows how much more forward she is about striking up conversations whereas Daisy is actually quite socially anxious (much as she tries to hide it) and winds up getting jealous at Mavis talking to everyone but her.

And then (finally noticing Daisy in a tizzy) Mavis rolls her eyes and kisses her at the same time.

Most everyone whoops and shouts some good-natured razzing. Cranky, however, is all like ‘OY A LITTLE LESS OF THAT IN MY DOCK’

Thomas x Bertie:

Maybe this one is a straight-up headcanon, I dunno. And I think this ship is a QPR. But anyway I like to imagine Bertie swinging all the way out to York to visit Thomas during his stint at the NRM.

It’s a super lovely surprise.

Up to and including Bertie responding to “But how?????” with the world’s smarmiest: “Well, I’m allowed to travel on mainland roads, aren’t I? Roads 1,459 Rails 0 :D”

James x Porter:

This is me, the captain of an empty ship, I know. (It's fun!)

Porter has been screwing with James’s head for fifteen years now by doing Grand Romantic Gestures but with Pokerfaced Watertight Plausible Deniability.

Like if there’s ever a cargo of flowers to go out, he always makes sure James gets it.

He always just so happens to be on James’s track when there are fireworks.

Forever making remarks like “Oh yeah, you go on first, you need your beauty routine” to let James go on and get wash down ahead of him and then bouncing so that James spends the entire time fruitlessly parsing the tone. It’s not biting or mean. It’s not flirtatious or teasing. But it's definitely not quite matter-of-fact. What does he MEAN by it???

No one knows. (Not that James cares!!!!!!!!) Porter, who has intimacy issues, is having way more fun living in James’s head rent-free than he ever would actually making a move on the most difficult and dramatic love interest on the railway (James: Everybody’s Ex™)

… at some point this will get resolved only when James snaps and drags him along on one of his fast freights out of the harbour. For once Porter is flustered (“Whoa! Whoa! James, put me down! I don’t go this fast - ”) and James just laughs, suddenly exhilarated because now he’s finally hauling Porter off and at the end is gonna force him to address all this shit (“C’mon, you’ve played Thomas before, haven’t you? Let’s moooooove -!”)

#cranky lives at tidmouth harbour truther right here #ttte shipping #... i still have no idea how to tag this it's not fic snippets exactly but it's not hcs either?#whatever fine #ttte headcanon #ttte #ttte multiple characters

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metroid-prime-ribs · 11 months

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Why Can't Metroid Crawl (Into My Heart)

Update the soft, of course

Update the soft, of course! What would they think if your suit had issues connecting to the Fed’s interface for data disclosure and other communications? Accepting the prompt you sit back in your beanbag chair and watch as the bar begins to crawl across the screen.

[00%]

[00.1%]

[00.4%]

[00.9%]

[01.2%]

[01.3%]

…Maybe you should’ve done this the night before. Either way, you’re sure that it will be complete by the time you arrive at the Olympus. In the meantime, you decide to get a few chores done around the ship. The dust geemers have been building up a battalion behind the cabinets.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Fuuuuuuucck! Fuck Fuck Fuck! The progress bar was still only at 89% like it had been for the past 20 minutes and you were docking with the Olympus NOW. You had to do something fast, otherwise you were going to have to show up to a meeting with the best of the S rank bounty hunters wearing only joggers and an anime t-shirt. You rush around your ship, your mind racing to come up with a solution.

Suddenly, you trip on something and fly face first into the console.

Shaking off the headache, you wipe a bit of blood off of your face and the console screen.

[100%] Process complete

Thanks to your mad skills as a techie, you just had to use your head. You tap away at the controls for a moment savoring the satisfying clicks of mechanical systems, not that holo-touch crap that a lot of ‘high end’ ships have. You would take mechanical redundancies over easy to break and/or miscalibrate trendy garbage. You press the last button to release the suit containment latches and they snap open with a satisfying snap-hissssss. The handle to the polycarbonate window is cool to the touch and you swing the door open with haste, quickly getting the suit to cover your form.

Your body relaxes into the comforting pressure of your suit. The wetware accepts the neural handshake as you let it boot up for a few moments. The lines of code flew past your vision as the systems check ran through its standard procedure. Finally you see the all green and step out of the suit storage and make for the cockpit. Your ship’s autopilot has successfully landed in bay five on the pad with a few other gunships that you vaguely recognize from their action figure counterparts that you may or may not have in your apartment. You decide to lock down your ship, only allowing access from the hatch to the cockpit until the ship picks up your biosign on board. You drop down the ladder and head to the chokepoint where Federation officers are waiting for you.

“Welcome aboard the GFS Olympus. The Admiral is waiting for you in the conference room just off the main bridge. Feel free to use the shooting gallery before you head up the ramp, too.”

You nod your thanks to the two troopers on duty and continue past them coming to the ramp that leads deeper into the Olympus, or the side hall that leads to the range.

#metroid #metroid art #why cant metroid crawl (into my heart)#metroidprimeribswrites #metroidprimeribs #choose your own adventure

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the-technicolor-whiscash · 6 months

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I think Hulu is tryina do a Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy series or something rn but fuck them I should be given the rights and should be allowed to make a limited run hitchhikers guide series under my grand vision

Important steps:

It will be filmed mostly in someone’s backyard and in sets constructed entirely within disused office building on the cheap

It will be crowdfunded so everything has to be cheap. Having 15 full minutes of kickstarter credits adds to any project.

Every member of the cast will be a rando nobody except for whatever low budget horror movie actors/big budget British stars past their prime I can get on the cheap who are willing to play side characters. I’m thinking we can swing Bill Nighy as Vogon Jeltz.

Arthur’s bathrobe will be as dirty as physically possible and will vary inconsistently in filth throughout the series.

The only real money spent will go into special effects like prosthetics and makeup except in the case of Zaphod’s second head, which will be carved and painted styrofoam. Marvin will be a real robot we’ll commission for the project voiced, ideally, by Frank Oz.

The Heart of Gold will be a leftover Star Trek Picard set that we’ve converted to our needs. Because of this, there will be a framed picture of Patrick Stewart on the ship that is never addressed or explained, treated in the same way one would treat a picture of Jesus Christ hung above their bed.

The book’s footnotes will be accounted for in the form of the show pausing, the narrator (ideally another austere British actor like Colin Firth. More likely, I call in my dad and have him run some lines in a British accent) explaining the footnote with a graphic overlaid on the screen, and then the show resuming. The pause is not an actual pause of footage, instead the actors will be frozen in whatever position they were at the beginning of the footnote and will periodically glance at the camera, fear and hatred in their eyes, before they can begin moving again.

It will be crunchy science fiction except for the Heart of Gold. That can have the sleek iPhone look. Everything else should look like a dirty used toaster you found at a garage sale that you think someone will end up buying even though there’s a big red stain on the side that might be blood.

Arthur and Ford will be gay but it will not be explicitly stated. Instead, it will be revealed to the viewer through a series of vignettes of Trillian and Zaphod accidentally catching the two of them rawdogging it across the ship. Zaphod asks to join them. They tell him no, as they’re pretty sure he has some kind of space herpes. He insists that having three arms and two heads makes him a better lover, since he can suck two dicks at once.

The music will be composed by a series of musical artists who made music for the PlayStation 1

As many of the props will be from dumpsters or thrift stores as possible. I’m talking old pots and pans and used coffee makers painted to look like scientific instruments.

The Restaurant at the End of the Universe serves exclusively the Chili’s menu. Someone orders a fajita. Instead of sizzling, it is loudly complaining about the fact half of it is still lukewarm, having not been properly microwaved.

#the whiscash administration

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katashikat · 1 month

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Welcome to the Carnival

A Carnival!Jax fanfic..

The main character is my OC.. a cat neko with blue eyes, black hair and neko features, named Katashi.. this fanfic is a self ship and may or may not get spicy later on.. I don’t take credit for Carnival!Jax or the idea, he belongs to his creator, but this fanfic was inspired by @an-albino-pinetree

“Chase you can’t be serious about this..” Kat protested as she watched her friend use a bolt cutter on the chains around the wire gate. The chains snapped and fell with a loud thud to the dirt below, the gate swinging open slightly at the lack of weight.

“And why not? You love adventure right?” Chase said flashing her a toothy smile, his blue cat neko features reflecting the light of the full moon above them.

“This place has been shut down for years and there must be a reason.” Kat said laying her ears back as Chase carefully stepped through the gate before turning to face her.

“Don’t be a scaredy cat, I’m sure there’s nothing in there except cool stuff to look at, now come on before the cops drive by.” Chase argued motioning towards the building behind them. Katashi looked around a moment before sighing in defeat and stepping through the gate. The two walked up to the decent sized building, it was an old movie theater that shut down from bankruptcy, at least that’s what they say. The building was boring even before it started deteriorating, the grey walls and brick covered with plants and poison Ivy wrapped itself around the poles surrounding the entrance. The lettering on the signs above the doors were missing random letters and for a second Katashi thought she saw the words “RUN” and “BLOOD”. But she shook away the thought as they approached the already cracked open door.

“Looks like someone made it here before us.” Chase mentioned as he pushed the door open. Katashi stood back as Chase went inside and the echo of his footsteps played back to her as he disappeared from sight.

“This place is lit!” Chase yelled out as he kept looking around the lobby.

Katashi laid her ears back as she slowly stepped inside the building, the old wooden floors creaking under her weight.

“Chase??” She called out into the darkness as she took slow and cautious steps into the lobby.

“Down here!” He called back from down a hallway. Katashi’s tail flicked with anxiety as she walked around the lobby, some of the shelves still held candy, the wrappers now covered with dust. One of the candy shelves was knocked to the floor, candy scattered across the floor with empty wrappers creating an unknown trail into the darkness. The counter was a mess with popcorn boxes and cups covering the floor, the old computers glitched, hinting that there was still some power in the building somewhere. The entire building was eerily quiet with the faint sound of static echoing down the hallways, the best Katashi could see was lighter patches of black mixed among the length of the room. As Katashi walked around she suddenly tripped over a knocked down fence barricade, which sent her to her hands and knees, catching her breath she looked down to see large paw prints sketched into the dusty floor, her heart stopped as the rapid steps covered the floor before seeming to head towards a specific hallway. The paw prints weren’t like that of a dog, but large with long strides between each one.

“Uh Chase..” Katashi called out as she slowly stood, dusting herself off. Getting no answer Katashi walked off in the direction of the prints, coming into a long dark hallway, striped wallpaper tearing from the walls, Katashi noticed streaks of red drawn onto the walls, which urged her to walk faster.

“Chase!” She called out as she turned to a doorway on her left, walking into what appeared to be the theatre room. Stairs lined each side of the room, seats filling most of the room while a white screen, giving off the faint static sound she had heard earlier sat in front. Katashi stared at the white movie screen, its brightness filling the room other than the shadowed corners in which dark curtains hung, hiding the back entrance of the screen. Katashi walked down the stairs as she looked around, her ears swiveling as she listened for Chase. Speaking felt like a sin in this room, as if your voice would be the tool to your death. Nearing the bottom of the stairs Katashi looked around, the static from the screen beginning to make her ears hurt. She hoped Chase was just playing a trick on her, but he knew the consequences of such an act. He still holds a scar on his arm from the last time he attempted one. Katashi searched all the seats hoping to find him waiting for her, but he was nowhere to be seen. Katashi walked up the set of stairs leading to the screen, gently grabbing ahold of the curtain and pulling it back slightly. Her pupils shrunk to pinpricks as fear caught hold of her. In the room behind the screen, stood Chase, his hands covered in blood as he clutched a wound on his side, he was backed up against the wall, his blue hair splattered with red while his clothes had tears. Chase pinned his ears back as he stared ahead of him, his legs clearly trembling with fear. Katashi was about to speak when a large figure came into view. As Katashi looked up at him she realized what made those paw prints. Grey, colorless fur, black pants, the sound of metal grinding, it froze Katashi in place as she fearfully watched, the sound of her heartbeat about to betray her. Once fully coming into view Katashi saw a tall rabbit man, his ears nearly scraping the ceiling of the room as he walked towards Chase, the metal sounds were chains that were locked around his neck, weighing his head down noticeably. His large rabbit paws took wide steps as his noodle-like arms held a bloody knife. His eyes were large, with black pupils that nearly filled the entire space, an unnaturally wide smile was spread across the rest of his face as he stepped up to Chase, raising his knife.

“STOP IT- PLEASE- LET ME GO-“ Chase cried as he pointlessly backed up against the wall. The rabbit only stared down at him with no emotion, other than the smile that seems to be permanently placed on his face. With a sudden tilt of his head the knife plunged into Chase, his chest resisting the knife only so much as the rabbit pushed it deeper, Chase gasped as blood spilled from his lips before his body slowly slid to the floor at the rabbits feet. The rabbit then whipped his head in Katashi’s direction causing her to scream and run. She scrambled to the stairs as the rabbit walked out from behind the curtain. Katashi leaped up the stairs as fast as her cat like flexibility would let her, but when looking behind her, the rabbit was sprinting on all fours, his long ears pinned back against his head as he reached the top of the stairs in half the time, he jumped in front of her and Katashi slid to the ground before pushing away from him, sending herself falling down the stairs. She hit the ground and groaned as the rabbit hopped down to her. Before she could try to stand the rabbit gripped her by a handful of her hair, lifting her off the ground. Katashi yowled in pain and squirmed to get out of his grasp but he simply slammed her head into the wall before dropping her, letting her unconscious body rest on the floor.

Katashi woke up to find herself in a large room, when attempting to move she realized her arms and legs were chained to the wall. Pinning her ears back in fear she looked around for the rabbit, who stood in front of her, his blank stare drilling holes into her. Katashi whined and backed up as she stared up at him, remembering what happened to Chase.

“W-who are you- what do you want-“ She cried attempting to back up against the tight hold of the chains.

“I want you..” He quietly spoke, his lips moving but his teeth remaining clenched together, his ears twitched occasionally, while the rest of his body stood stiff, the bloody knife he used to kill Chase still in his hand, now dripping with more blood than before. Katashi blinked away tears as she stared up at the rabbit, foolishly pulling at the chains as if they would suddenly free her. The rabbit stepped closer to her, his large paws making soft thuds against the cold concrete floor.

“I always wanted a pet..” The rabbit spoke more to himself than to her as he reached out towards her, his white glove brushing against her cheek as Katashi closed her eyes, turning away.

“Don’t worry kitty, it won’t hurt that bad.” He said raising his knife to her as his smile slowly grew in size. Gently he placed the knife against her cheek, it’s edge resting dangerously against her soft skin, Katashi closed her eyes as she prepared for her death, but only a slight cut was carved into her cheek. The rabbit pulled back, his pupils now pinpricks as he licked the blood off the knife, his smile still wide. Katashi stared up at him as blood dripped from her cheek onto the floor, her heart pounding enough to burst out of her chest. After the rabbit licked the blade clean of her blood, he stepped up to her, quickly gripping a handful of her black hair and lifting her up to him, the chains pulling back in protest. He lifted the knife to her throat and a low chuckle echoed through his clenched, blood-stained teeth. He traced the knife down her throat and chest before resting the edge against her stomach, Katashi gasped and sucked in her stomach, attempting to make room between her skin and the blade, the rabbits large eyes sparkled as he pushed the knife closer to her, getting pleasure from watching her struggle in fear. Before he could give her another mark, a sound echoed from down the dark hallway causing his long ears to stand at attention and turn towards the noise. He growled at the interruption and backed away from her setting the knife on the table.

“Don’t go anywhere~ I’ll be back.” He grinned before hopping down the hallway on all fours.

Katashi breathed heavily as she watched him disappear into the darkness, the knife sitting ever so teasingly on the edge of the table.

“What the fuck is this place..” Katashi said as she once again glanced at the walls covered with bloody tools.

To be continued….

#carnival!jax #the amazing digital carnival #fanfic #oc rp #I write fanfics for a hobby #i hope someone likes it

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doyouhatetheglasses · 2 months

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𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐂 𝐆𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄𝐒

BOLD what applies to your muse, ITALICIZE if there's potential / it's dependent on external factors. CROSS OUT if there's NO potential under any circumstances

Repost, don't reblog.

Tagged By: @invidentius Tagging: anyone who wants to snag it :D

#[ following a lead ] dash games #[ predestined written in stone ] about #[ swing my heart across the line ] shipping #[[#THE CHEESIEST SAP TO EVER SAP #also sorry about the last bite to whoever ends up with him #he just eats it too fast before he even thinks of it 99% of the time #]]

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himbos-hotline · 11 months

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from the vulnerable confession prompt list 'how long have you known?' for hangmega with kota haunting the narrative

Angel to me // Watashi ni totte tenshi

Word count: 2364 words Ship: "Hangman" Adam Page/Kenny Omega, Nick Jackson/Kenny Omega [if you squint and turn your head sideways], Golden lovers Characters: "Hangman" Adam Page, Kenny Omega, The young bucks, Kota Ibushi [mentioned] Triggers: None that I can really think off... Authors note: I wrote fluff yesterday and now its impossible for me to write something cute or wholesome. This grabbed me by the balls again and I think it has some of my best lines in....The japanese at the end translates to 'coming soon angel' according to google translate. READ ON AO3

Kenny mostly sees Kota in his dreams. Clattering through his mind, knocking everything out of the apartment in his mind like a cat knocking glasses off the table, until it's just the two of them. Kenny stares at him with wide eyes, flooded with emotions as Kota collects a needle and thread, stitching the broken seams of the man he remembers. Kenny lets his hands wander across his damaged frame, watching as Kota weaves red ribbon around mental scars and embroider little hearts around bruises. He stares Kenny in the eye, hunting through the darkness and the pain for a flash of the soft, blond curls and bright eyes of the man that he fell in love with.

Kota always appears in Kenny’s dreams but he never gets to speak, plush lips part and a soft pink tongue dart out to wet them and Kota’s chest shudders under his shirt, rolling little balls of thread around his fingers. His mouth opens and Kenny recognises the tune that plays; loud and frustratingly stubborn. His alarm always cuts Kota off from speaking and by the time Kenny opens his eyes, his body is still just as broken as before he went to bed. He’s only healed in his dreams.

The tight hands of sleep release Kenny the way people release butterflies; all hopeful and gentle hands, watching as they flutter away all while having the silent dread that sometime, eventually. The butterfly will die or be eaten and all that time will have been wasted. He swings his legs out from under the covers and his knees pop in protest, skating pain wrapping itself up around his thighs and around his back like vines wrapping and strangling a rose. He sighs, dragging bare feet across the carpeted hotel room, shivering slightly at the chill that only hotel bathrooms have. The suns barely started to rise over whatever city they're in and Kenny watches it for a few moments through the dirty glass of the bathroom mirror as he brushes his teeth, purposely keeping his eyes off the reflection in the mirror.

He spits into the sink and listens to the water run, watching it twirl down the plughole and disappear, gurgling through the pipes before wandering back into the hotel room. He dresses quietly, pinning a hair tie between his teeth as he wrestles his feet into battered sneakers and snatches his phone off the bedside table. Kenny double checks he has everything; phone, room key, headphones, overwhelming sense of longing for he’s never going to see again? Check, check, check.

He runs, works machines in the gym and stumbles back to the hotel, gripping a take away mug of coffee in his hand hard enough that ring-worn nails are leaving behind small crescent moons in the styrofoam. In the elevator, Kenny counts the floors and stares at the mirrored walls, tracing the pattern of the marble and not the tiredness that floats in his eyes. The doors purr open and Kenny steps out slowly, nodding politely at a mother who apologizes as her child goes careening around Kenny’s legs, smacking into his hip with his backpack. For a few seconds, the child stares up at Kenny and something twists in his heart; there's a flash of innocence and adoration that paints the child's dark brown eyes. Kenny signs a few things, making small talk and ruffles the childs brown hair, smiling as he gasps and bounces away to his mother, poster flailing behind him gripped tightly in his chubby hand.

Kenny waves as the elevator door closes and so does his smile, he fixes his headphones back in his ears and stumbles down the hall, mind fixed only getting home. Kenny closes his eyes as he hunts for his room keys in his pockets. The child's eyes flash through the darkness behind his eyelids and he flinches them open, blinking brightly under the overwhelming yellow glow of the hallway lights. He’s seen the look a thousand times before in fans eyes; starstruck and stunned but there was something different this time, like the child with coffee coloured eyes was apologizing for something, looking at someone over Kenny’s shoulder that only he could see. Chills tangle their way up Kenny’s spine and as he jiggles the key in the lock, he looks over his shoulders, sighing when he sees the hallway empty. Just Kenny and his shadow and the vastness of unshakeable loneliness that's mixed in Kenny’s bloodstream.

The door opens with a pop, the latch clicking satisfyingly as it reveals the hotel room to Kenny, he walks through patches of golden sunlight decorating the floor and tosses his phone onto the white sheets. He showers and changes clothes again, leaving damp curls to fan around his shoulders and frame his face as Kenny crawls back under the covers, eyes half closed.

The body next to him is warm and still mostly asleep, face highlighted by strands of golden sun as it dances in and out of heaven. An arm wraps around Kenny’s middle and like a dog craving attention, Kenny follows. Letting the body maneuver him against its side, forehead tucked in Kenny’s neck as it stumbles through the last sections of sleep. The body breathes against the dents of Kenny’s collarbone and he plasters a smile on his face as it speaks, Virginian accent thick and quiet. “G’mornin’ angel.”

Kenny looks down at Adam’s face; at the half lidded green eyes, growing in alertness like moss growing over an abandoned gravestone and he catches the nickname still caught in Adam’s teeth; the color of molded fools gold. It's a common enough nickname, especially for Kenny but it still takes him by surprise. He’s heard it before, sure, but in a different tone, in a different voice, vowels shaped differently and he feels an ever familiar pang in longing in his mind.

“Good morning.” He whispers back instead, trying to kiss the nickname out of Adam’s teeth and off his mouth, trying to kiss the coppery taste of uncanniness into an ever-familiar gold.

The two of them move together in the uncoordinated bliss of early morning sex; bodies pressed together moving slowly with no real goal in mind. Adam whines against Kennys shoulder and Kenny tangles one hand into his curls, still messy and tangled from sleep. There's a growing pressure behind his eyes, almost like Kenny wants to cry. So he closes them tighter and rolls his hips with purpose. It seems to be enough as soon Adams spilling, warm and wet across Kenny’s fluttering stomach and the crisp white sheets, cum sparkling silver in the sunshine. Kenny pulls out slowly and flinches inwardly when Adams head comes to rest against his racing heart, breath spilling across his stained chest. “Where were you this morning?”

Kenny pauses his movements, his palm stopping against his chest. He thinks for a few seconds, looking down at Adam’s quietly questioning eyes. Wrapped in his own head? Trying to run away from a golden star that’s still hung in Kenny’s sky by a red string that links people forever, a constantly glowing North Star that Kenny looks at for advice, for comfort.

“Gym.”

“Oh…” Adam nods, giving Kenny a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes as he scrambles his legs out of bed. There's no pain that paints itself across Adam's eyes as he moves, working his way to the bathroom. Kenny wipes himself off and stares pathetically for a few seconds at his body before he hears Adam call from the bathroom, asking about food or something that Kenny doesn't quite pick up over the sound of running water, so he stays quiet. Adam doesn’t let up, he calls Kenny’s name over the sound of the shower pounding against the floor.

Kenny makes a small sound, trying his best to sound interested as Adam asks for his toiletries back. Kenny takes it to him and leans against the shower door as Adam washes his hair and body, humming softly as he does so. The two of them share a glance and Kenny steps under the hot water, arms wrapped around Adam middle like he's holding onto someone different; fingers spreading against his chest and mouth already nipping and biting at his earlobe.

Kenny’s teeth graze against a sensitive spot on Adam's jaw and he gasps, forehead resting against the wet tiles of the bathroom shower.

“I love you.”

Kenny feels the confession more than he hears it; feels the creak of Adam’s jaw joint against his teeth, feels the tender syllables slide against chewed pink lips and into the mold in the tiles grout. There’s beats of silence where Kenny’s ears catch up and he pulls away, hands untangling from around Adam's hips. He blinks, body going cold and numb under the beating heat of the shower. Adam’s eyes widen and his body stills, forehead smacking against the tiles as he turns “I-..I didn't mean it..” His voice shivers out between worn down lips, hands trembling at his side.

“Yes you did.” Kenny whispers, digging his nails into the fat of his hips as he steps away from Adam and out of the shower. He feels like he can’t breathe and the pressure in his skull feels like a drumline. It beats out Adam’s confession louder and louder until it's the only thing Kenny can hear, even over his ragged breathing. He shakes his head, leaving Adam standing alone and panicking in the shower.

They avoid each other for the rest of the day until the show starts. They’re both squished in a locker room; Adam sitting on the couch while Kenny slumps over in a chair, staring a hole into the floor. The two of them barely look up when Matt pushes the door open, engrossed in an animated conversation with his brother.

“And so I told him-” Matt’s voice drawls away, eyeing the two of them on opposite sides of the room before staring at Nick with a waring look in his eyes. The door pops closed behind the two of them as they sit on the floor, between the two of them. Kenny looks up, almost like he's surprised to see Nick’s sneakers, highlighter yellow in his eyeline.

“Hey Nicky” Kenny smiles and straightens himself against the chair, chuckling when Nick takes his place on his lap, head tucked sleepily into his shoulder. “Tuckered out hmm?”

Matt speaks from his place on the floor, legs stretched out in front of him, before Nick gets his mouth open. “The idiot drank my coffee. Y'know how he is with caffeine, you remember the time in Japan where-'' Matt stops abruptly and Adam looks up from his phone, confusion painted on his face.

Nick looks at his brother and then at Kenny, blue eyes reading their faces before nodding and returning to his brother's side. “What happened?”

“Nothing.” Adam answers, too quickly for him to be telling the truth. Kenny glares at him from across the room. Matt rolls his eyes, tapping his finger against the back of his brother's hand. Nick nods and finishes the silent conversation with his brother by standing up, dragging Matt to his feet by his wrist. Almost like they’re on the same path of thought, Matt and Nick turn to leave, Nick squirming out the locker room first, running away like a startled deer as Matt looks over his shoulders; brown eyes narrowed and tired as he glares at the two of them.

“Whatever the fuck has happened, sort it out before out match tonight yeah? We have to win this.” Matt orders, finger wagging between Adam and Kenny before he slams the door.

The two of them are alone again, staring at each other dead in the eyes. Adam worries at the inside of his cheek and Kenny frowns at him.

Silence settles over the room the way a storm settles over the world;thickening the air and wrapping the very air in your chest in anticipation, making it heavy and stone-like at the bottom of your lungs. Kenny takes a small breath of air.

“How long have you known?” He asks, voice thumbling like thunder over the locker room. It strikes Adams ears and his eyes look down at the dry floor, scuffing his boot across the floor. “Adam. How long have you known that you…” Kenny pauses, gripping his hands together. The words stop just behind his teeth, sticking to the roof of his mouth.

“That I love you?” Adam asks rhetorically, voice taking a sour tone as he glares at Kenny from behind his curling eyelashes. “You can't even say it, can you?”

That question isn't rhetorical, his eyebrows raise and he gestures his hand out as if presenting the perfect opportunity for Kenny to spill his heart. In his mind, Kenny pictures Adam holding a dagger and a platter, twirling the blade under the arena lights as he waits for Kenny to rip his shirt open and bare his chest so he can carve his beating heart out. He opens his mouth and closes it again, fiddling with the buttons on his shirt, tugging at the fabric of his jeans.

Adams sigh, small and defeated, speaks more words that Kenny has ever heard. It sounds like a gust of wind breaking and snapping the tops of trees and Kenny’s eyebrows pinch together when Adam stands, hand resting sullenly on his shoulder. Kenny follows his eyes up Adam's arm and stares into his eyes, blue eyes flooded in apology. “Adam I-”

“I know Kenny..” Adam looks just above Kenny’s head like he’s looking at something angelic. “I know.” He presses a soft kiss to the middle of Kenny’s forehead and walks himself to the door, his fingers twisting around the door handle.

The door opens and Adam stares at Kenny sadly from the threshold. “I hope you're happy…”

The door closes and Kenny sits alone, staring longingly at the door. “Me too..” He croaks out, eyes downturned to the floor as the overhead light flickers off.

In the darkness, Kenny’s phone lights up from its spot against his suitcase.

⭐ One imaged attached もうすぐ到着します天使

Taglist: @allelitesmut @homoeroticgrappling @dustinslovehandles @paradoxunknown @katries @mrsmatt @echoxshxrx @malewifemoxley @kass-the-kitten @racerchix21 @jacedoe @itsnoosetome @chuckstaylors @old-no7 @thekadster @mandiableclaw @tahiri-veyla

#kenny omega #hangman page #golden lovers #hangkenny #hangmega

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amiedala · 1 year

Text

SOMETHING HOLY

CHAPTER 2: Fault Line

WARNINGS: explicit sexual content, power play, canon-compliant violence

SUMMARY: "When I say devour, cyar’ika,” he says, pressing down until the stars multiply, “I mean destruction. Can you handle that?”

“Yes,” Nova squeaks, breathless, air taken right out of her lungs.

“I don’t think you can.”

She feels dizzy. This is exactly what she wanted, this devastation. This devastation that loves her. This devastation that’s carved out a place of its soul for her, this devastation that she knows by name.

“I can take it,” Nova whispers, whines, into the shattering green dark of this place around them. “I can take anything.”

Din smiles down on her, bright enough to shatter the stars above. “That’s my girl.”

AUTHOR'S NOTE: HAPPY SOMETHING HOLY SATURDAY!!! a little late, but she's got the spirit ;) hope you love it!

If you're new here, Something More & Something Deeper are the first installments in this series, available on here & ao3!

The fault line glimmers and cracks, swallowing pieces of them all. Nova can feel it—a seismic, vantablack change, desperate and leaching. She grabs hold of Din’s arm, stumbles toward Bo-Katan, just trying to reunite all of them, to hold onto pieces before they fracture.

Ezra Bridger’s frantic message is playing and replaying in front of them, azure, desperate.

“What,” Bo-Katan states, just as plainly as before, “the fuck.”

“I don’t know,” Nova murmurs, but the hair on the back of her neck is standing up, full tilt. “Play it again.”

“It’s playing on a loop,” Bo-Katan hisses, low but not angry. Nova ignores her.

“If you're watching this,” Ezra repeats, for what may be the tenth time, “that means I’m too late.” He pauses, hair swinging in his face before he looks over his shoulder, “and you guys need to run.”

Nova swallows. That frantic, frenetic expression on his blue face—she’s worn it. She’s seen it in her head. She’s seen it in the mirror.

Something moves at the corner of the hologram. Nova watches it blur and obscure, then disappear entirely. A blaster shot, maybe? The sharp gunsmoke of light flits by, fleeting, going, gone.

Primea is so quiet. The silence is so loud, pressing into their eardrums like an oil slick. There’s no frequency here—like the planet has been glassed and reduced to nothing, yet is still masquerading like there’s life. Nova shivers, even though she’s not particularly cold.

“‘Too late’,” Din mutters, and it’s the first thing he’s said since they found the hologram. Three sets of eyes find him, silver and reflective, helmet cocked to the side. “What’s too late? To save Ezra’s life?”

Panic jolts across Nova’s heart, bisecting it, dropping it into her belly. “No,” she says, but it wavers, coming out more like a question. “No,” she repeats, stronger this time, “I would have felt it if he were gone.”

“Was there more with the ship?” Wedge murmurs, hand on his chin, thumb brushing over his bottom lip. It’s a repeated action, one that reminds Nova so much of her father that she has to look away. “Was it just Ezra who… escaped? Or does that mean that the Chimaera and her forces are still out there?”

“They’re out there.” Bo-Katan’s still staring at the hologram. “But there are no forces. Just them.”

At this, everyone’s expression shifts. Wedge looks surprised. Nova’s eyes narrow. And Din’s head snaps over to her.

“I thought you said you didn’t know who—”

“I lied,” Bo-Katan says, and the word cracks in half. “I—”

But the earth beneath them shifts, and all of them move. Forward, together—tossed against each other like a moorless ship, heaving over the waves. Nova yells as she’s pitched into Din, as the smoking escape pod’s floor cracks beneath them. It’s such a physical manifestation of how she's feeling that at first, Nova doesn’t quantify it as true, as reality. A giant, gaping maw opens up through the steel floor. Nova screams, grabbing an arm, a leg, wrenching her people back, away from the mouth coming out of the silt and salt, suddenly immobilized with fear.

“Grab the hologram!” Wedge roars, kicking off the sideways wall to reach it, a blinking thing—almost like a bounty puck, Nova muses, like her mind can’t focus on the danger at hand.

Together, with Herculean effort, the four of them sift through the cracking ship, avoiding teeth as massive as their forearms, running for the opening that once used to be a door. The escape pod is tiny, and they fall out of the wreckage—one, two, three, four, in quick succession—and shoot towards the hills where they came from. Wedge is still holding that beacon in his hand, blinking softly, a satellite unaffected by the seismic change.

Something is wrong. Nova can feel it in the air, a chittering, screeching pulse coming from the creature behind them—underneath them. Is it entirely from the creature? She can’t tell. The white, salt-cracked ground is fracturing still, and Nova stares down at it shuddering underneath her, completely unmoored.

“Faster!” Bo-Katan roars through the modulator, and they all try, feeling the earth shake beneath them. Nova isn’t a fast enough runner—her legs are too short, her hips are too full—and the rest of them outstride her. Bo-Katan is built, but lithe; Wedge is still tactically trained from the days the Rebellion was active, and Din—well, Din is an optical illusion, a bullet made of beskar. Hulking, tall, yes, but nimble, still built for running like it’s aerosolized in his blood.

Suddenly, something wraps around her waist, and Nova shrieks, a loud, guttural yell that splits the air in front of them.

“It’s me,” Din yells—no, he’s not yelling, they’re just soaring through the air and his voice is cutting through the sound of the wind, propelled up by jet fuel strapped to his back, “it’s me, sweet girl—”

Nova sobs, fractures, feeling completely unhinged, unglued. She sinks into Din’s steel grip, an iron trap, burying her face in the beskar. They’re flying horizontally, alongside where Bo-Katan has plucked Wedge off his feet, trying to gain velocity and move vertically, but her small jetpack isn’t strong enough for two people.

The monster behind them is sneering, huffing—a scaly, terrible thing, made entirely of shards of ice and salt, a predator designed to blend in with its wasteland. Nova can feel the way the ground is still shaking, even though they’re off of it.

“Maker,” she says, the word ripped straight out of her mouth, and then panic seizes her again. “Grogu—” she cries, and she pounds against Din’s pauldron. He’s so tiny, so impossibly small—he wouldn’t even register as food to this hulking creature, he wouldn’t even be a snack—

And then they’re rounding on the ship, Bo-Katan and Wedge lagging slightly behind, and Nova screams out, looking down at the creature again—

“Let everything run out of you backwards.”

They’re Luke’s words, but in Ezra’s voice, and it’s like the two of them materialize and possess her. The answer is so simple. Nova can’t believe she didn’t think of it back there. She does, closing her eyes, tuning out the rattling of her skull, the fear in her bones. Slowly, carefully, she reaches out a hand from over Din’s shoulder, pointing it at the monster still shaking the ground, and pushes it forward until the earth stops threatening to fall apart.

She’s not strong enough—not alone, not by a long shot—but it slows the creature down, letting the four of them close the distance between them and the ship, enough for Bo-Katan to storm the cockpit and lift them up out of there, enough so that Nova can pry Grogu from his crib and press the scent of his skin to her nose, enfold him in her arms—

They get out, but just barely.

It’s a blur. Nova’s heart doesn’t peter back down to a normal range until they’re out of the atmosphere and off of Primea’s surface entirely, and even then, panic still lives inside of her, gilding that fault line, licking at the cracks.

None of them speak for an abnormally long time. Fighting off a monster—a true monster, one made of salt and bone and teeth, not one who walks the galaxy on two legs—was somehow entirely unexpected. Nova’s still cold, clutching Grogu to her chest. Bo-Katan and Wedge are silent in the cockpit. Din’s quiet is otherworldly, pressing—but he doesn’t dare breach that silence, the one that all of them are suddenly slaves to, the hologram of Ezra’s panic still blinking on the dashboard.

For what feels like seconds—or days, time isn’t solid out here—no one speaks. No one speaks at all. Then, finally, Wedge breaches the barrier between the cockpit and the back, outfitted in orange, lines in his face pronounced. “We have to stop for fuel,” he says, gently.

“Where?” Nova asks, and it comes out pleading. They’re so out of their depth out here. Ezra is nowhere to be found. It’s the five of them against impending doom, and right now, Nova feels like the impending doom is winning. Grogu coos against the swell of her chest, and she smooths a hand over his ears like her mother used to over her hair.

“Soon.” It isn’t the answer to the question she asked—it was the one to the hidden, obscured question, the one hiding from the light. They’re running out of fuel. They’re running out of time. And the Unknown Regions are a wilderness pit, someplace destitute and unlawful, and there’s no information on where fuel even is, or if this hole of blank space is devoid of anything except crushing, complete darkness.

Nova reads in between the lines. They’re really low.

She cracks her sore neck to the side to relieve some of the pressure, trying to regain control like she’s in the pilot’s seat on Kicker. She rolls her shoulders back, considering. “I don’t know where to go,” she says, finally, coming up with nothing. “Ahch-To is out here, somewhere, but it’s just… mountains and ocean. What little fuel Luke has, he needs for his own X-Wing.”

Nova doesn’t miss how Wedge stiffens, blinks, readjusts at Luke’s name. “We need fuel, Nova,” he says, lowly, “soon.”

Swallowing, Nova regards him in the half-light. That prick on the back of her neck is back, like eyes she can’t see are watching her. “I don’t know where to go.”

Din’s voice, sighing like honey through the modulator, stops them both in their redundant conversation. “I do.” He exhales, low and despondent. “But none of you will like it.”

They land on a planet called Parnassos. Nova can feel the anxiety, taut against Din’s hulking frame. It’s curled inside his belly in the same way it’s curled inside of hers. The atmosphere is toxic, not enough to kill you, but enough to hurt. Din and Bo-Katan have pressurized air in their helmets. Nova and Wedge aren’t as lucky.

“You should stay here,” Din expresses as Bo-Katan drives her ship down to the planet’s smoggy, smoky surface.

“Absolutely not,” Nova hisses.

Din’s helmet is still on, but if it wasn’t, Nova knows that he’d be shooting her an exasperated expression. “Novalise—”

“We need someone to get fuel,” she whispers. “And we need to get food, too. That means two groups of people. And I don’t think any of su should go off alone.”

“I’ll stay,” Wedge volunteers, nudging his way into the conversation. “I’ll stay here with Grogu. That way, if all of you need a fast exit… I’ll be here.”

Nova eyes him. There’s a stiffness to Wedge that she hasn’t ever seen before, a rigidity that’s seeped in like poison. Primea was so unsettling—a ghost town with something scarier lurking under the surface—and it’s affected all of them in different ways. This is Wedge the war general, not Wedge her friend. “Okay,” she agrees, softly, wrapping her shawl around Grogu’s sleeping body, swathing him in orange. Reluctantly, she hands him off to Wedge, cooing in his sleep.

Bo-Katan emerges in the doorway after she’s landed the ship on Parnassos’ rocky, unyielding surface. “Ready?”

Nova’s breath hitches. If the atmosphere is toxic—they can’t be out there for long. She can’t be out there for long. Not without armor, not without a failsafe—

Bo-Katan tosses a blur of orange and grey through the air. Nova catches it—her helmet. Her Mandalorian helmet, the one she initially said she couldn’t don, the one that made her feel like an imposter instead of a leader. She stares down at it for a second, considering, and then slides it over her head, the airlock hissing her into safety. Din grabs something off the dashboard, blinking. Ezra’s hologram.

“Wedge, if anything happens—”

“It won’t,” he says, firmly. “Just get out there, get fuel, get food, get back. Four easy steps.”

“What if we run into something?” Nova asks, her own voice distorted through the modulator. Chills erupt across her arms, down her spine.

“We won’t,” Din says, sighing, “You’ll see.”

Parnassos’s surface is war-torn, haunted. It’s the first thing Nova feels—not sees, feels. Visceral and raw, like no one is supposed to be here.

She shivers, stepping carefully over the terrain, rocks and glass crunching underneath their feet. For what feels like hours, the three of them walk in tandem silence, a multi-headed animal, a desperate triumvirate. Bo-Katan is precise in her movements. Din is walking like he’s hunting something. Nova hangs back, eyes tracking their heat signatures, their movements, trying to forget the feeling like she’s the dividing line come to life, the physical representation of where Din and Bo-Katan stand.

For miles, they walk, traversing difficult terrain. Large geyser pits spit clouded, toxic steam.The planet is red, but muted, like whatever anger used to be held in the atmosphere left a long time ago. Din steps on ahead, a man on a mission, knowing where he’s headed. Bo-Katan stumbles and Nova catches her arm, latching onto her the second she falters.

“I’m fine.”

“I’m not.”

Bo-Katan stops to study Nova, cocking her head to the right.

“What the hell did you mean back there?”

Bo-Katan clears her throat through the modulator, moving on. Nova walks in lockstep, heart hammering wildly. “I know that the Chimaera wasn’t fully armed. It was just Ezra and who he disappeared with.”

Nova blinks, brow furrowing. “How do you know that?”

Bo-Katan doesn’t speak for a long time. “Nova, I wasn’t intentionally keeping it from you.”

Running her tongue over her teeth, Nova tries to read between the lines. “Why didn’t you say something sooner, then?”

“I did.” Bo-Katan stops. Nova can feel her stare. “I told you Ezra disappeared in the ship with someone who sounds terrifying.”

“Who?” Nova asks, pressing down, trying to hit Bo-Katan’s pressure point, to get past the guarded exterior, to pry it free. “I don’t understand—you told us so much back on Mandalore, Bo-Katan. If you know who he disappeared with—”

“I didn’t know him myself,” Bo-Katan interrupts, “I just…heard stories.”

“What stories?” Din is so far ahead of them at this point, Nova fears losing him to the smog. “Please, Bo-Katan, I understand he’s…scary, but we have no hope of beating him if we don’t work together.”

“He’s not human. Near-human, maybe, but something completely…different. He doesn’t have a conscience, but he’s not unhinged. He’s brilliant. Ruthless. Taking apart the Rebellion one piece at a time.”

Nova steps carefully around a geyser, considering. “How do I not know who this man is?”

Bo-Katan steps up over a boulder. Din’s armor glints in the reddish haze in front of them. “He ran in different circles than you did. Orbited your Rebellion, but never touched it.”

“Why?”

“He disappeared with Ezra into deep space before any of the big battles happened.”

Nova stops.

“Keep moving,” Bo-Katan says, harshly, “we can’t linger.”

Nova’s legs are so tired. Her mind is exhausted. She wants to rub her eyes, but she can’t reach under her helmet, can’t breathe in the tainted air. She can feel a threat hanging against the horizon, and it’s not just the haunted setting of the planet. She feels watched, like whatever they’re doing is ten steps behind, like someone’s eyes are assessing their every move.

“Everything he’s done, though,” Bo-Katan continues, once they’re through a rock outcropping, “it lived in the Empire. And I can still feel it.”

Nova blinks. “Wait, what do you mean?”

Bo-Katan stops, just for a second, and Nova can sense the uneasy expression on her face. “I think whatever the First Order is, whatever they’re trying to do, it’s out here. In the Unknown Regions.”

“Bo-Katan—”

“Everywhere we’ve been has been wrong,” Bo-Katan says, finally, gaining speed. Nova can’t keep up, physically or mentally, “and I think there’s something bigger at play here.”

“Like what?”

Bo-Katan considers. “Like we’re walking into a trap.”

A terrible, awful beat of thrumming silence. “Whose trap?” Nova asks, her voice small, scared.

“That’s the problem,” Bo-Katan sighs, “I don’t know.”

They’ve only been out here for an hour, but it feels like days. Nova’s sweating, chilled to the bone by the unsettling planet they’re walking, the threat literally hanging in the air. But she doesn’t dare unzip her jacket, doesn’t try to let any of the poison in. She keeps moving, trudging after her two experienced Mandalorians, thinking about anything other than that feeling of being watched, of playing right into someone’s trap.

Get out there.

Get fuel.

Get food.

Get back.

Four easy steps. Nova repeats it silently, like a mantra, like a salvation. When Din and Bo-Katan finally stop, it takes her a beat to catch up. They’re talking low and hushed. When she approaches them, Bo-Katan raises her helmeted chin. “We’re splitting up,” she declares.

“No,” Nova answers, immediately. “Not a good idea.”

“You and Din go get food,” Bo-Katan says, ignoring her entirely, “I’ll get fuel.”

“Bo-Katan,” Nova says, low and desperate, “there’s no edible food here.”

“There’s a town center,” Din says, “and inside, there’s a greenhouse. Right at the center.”

Nova looks at him. “How do you know?”

Din shifts uncomfortably. “I… I’ll tell you on the way.” He looks back at Bo-Katan. “Fuel is at the outpost, down the main road, to the left. Be quick. If you run into anyone—”

“Shoot first,” Bo-Katan says, nodding. “Ask questions later.”

They have an unspoken agreement, one Nova isn’t privy to. She watches as Bo-Katan disappears into the smog, the straight ramrod of her back dematerializing until she’s completely gone. Swallowing, Nova turns back to Din. “I don’t like this,” she says, trying to sound derisive, clear, but her voice shakes.

He brings a gloved palm up to cup her helmeted cheek. “I knew you wouldn’t.” He sighs. “I don’t either, but the rest of the planets out here are either wastelands or… worse.” He turns on his heel, making his way to the center of the decaying, toxic city. Nova follows him, outlining the shape of the man she loves under the armor, trying to uncover what lurks in his silence, what’s buried underneath.

“Din,” she chances, after a handful of minutes descending deep into the ruins of the city, “how do you know this place?”

He sighs again, long and languid. Nova waits, patiently.

“I used to live here,” he says, finally, sourly.

Nova stops in her tracks. “What?”

“It was for a short time,” Din continues, scaling a small boulder. His boots crunch as he lands, lifting up an arm to help Nova climb over the obstacle, visor trained ahead instead of on her. “Back… back when I was with—”

“Xi’an,” Nova supplies, softly. Din flinches. She doesn’t miss it. “You… lived out here? In this wasteland?”

“It was only for a few weeks,” Din says, turning left, right, in quick succession. The buildings around them are crumbled, in ruin. Nova doesn’t know if it was from the atomic devastation or if it was simply from disuse. “I never took my armor off. Her skin—her brother’s, too—they aren’t affected like humans are. It didn’t bother them, living in a radioactive zone.” He huffs a laugh, mirthless, so unlike him. “Guess that’s because they were radioactive, too.”

Nova looks up at him. “Din,” she starts, completely out of her depth, “how long?”

He cocks his head to the side, refusing to look at her. “What do you mean?” Together, they twine deeper into the city center, the buildings less and less destroyed. Nova can glimpse glass in the distance—the greenhouse, she assumes, but she doesn’t mention it aloud.

“How long were you trapped here?” she asks, softly, and with that, he turns, abrupt, enclosing Nova against a crumbling brick wall.

“I wasn’t trapped,” Din spits, and it’s totally unlike him, a crack straight down the middle, that Nova’s breath catches in the hollow of her throat, body slamming into the brick. “I liked it, Nova. I was a machine back then. I wasn’t—I wasn’t who I am now. I loved the hunt. I was as ruthless as they were. I liked it.” He steps forward, body flush against hers, and Nova swallows, her mouth running bone-dry under the helmet. “I am not good, Novalise.”

Tears spring to Nova’s eyes, warring with the dark plunge of excitement that hungers low in her belly, desperate, unhinged, voracious. “You are now,” she manages, “and whatever you’ve done doesn’t scare me—”

“I did what I needed to survive,” Din snarls, “and I liked it.”

“Din—”

“Your lover was a killer,” Din croons, and Nova stares up at him, that vantablack, desperate feeling unhinging once more, threatening to consume her like it did in her dream. “Does that scare you, cyar’ika?”

Nova lifts her chin up to meet his, throwing her shoulders back, stepping forward. “You could never scare me.”

“Oh, that’s not true,” Din says, and Nova can hear the wicked smile in his voice, “you just like to be scared.”

Want is a desperate, knifing thing. Nova reaches up, wanting to pull Din closer, needing to have his body against hers, even in this torrential wasteland, even in this place of radioactive air—

“Novalise,” Din says, but he’s not pressed up against her, he’s not crooning, he’s not haunted. Nova blinks once, twice, then—the smoke clears, and he’s a few feet away, head cocked concernedly, arm stretched out to pull her forward. They’re at the greenhouse, glass gloomy and reflective against the clouded red sky.

“What—?” Nova looks back, back at the place Din had just had her anchored against the wall, but they aren’t there. Nothing that just happened was real—or if it was, it was minutes ago, not right before—the flash cut scares her, sends adrenaline rocketing through her veins. She shakes her head, trying to clear it, looking back up at the man she loves, warm concern written all over his hidden face.

“Are you seeing things?” Din asks, low and worried, and Nova’s cheeks flare with heat. “It happens, it’s the air, you need to keep your helmet on—”

“No,” Nova says, trying to sound convincing, pointing up at the greenhouse. “Can we get in?”

Din nods, leading her around the back of the building. Nova looks over her shoulder, half-expecting evil to materialize, for something horrible to show its face to her, glinting in the awful amber haze. Nothing does.

They’re alone out here, alone with each other and all their ghosts, alone with the fear of something happening. Against a razor’s edge, both hidden and glinting. Alone with want, with hunger, with fear.

Nova doesn’t know what scares her more.

The greenhouse is exactly what it’s advertised as—green, lush, sprawling. A tiny sanctuary in the middle of a war torn city, a ghost town, a wasteland.

It’s beautiful, the greenness of it, the life growing here. Tiny white flowers dance across the ground, even without a breeze. Nova marvels at that, at the little life still growing here, after all the devastation.

“Look for things we can eat,” Din says, the toe of his boot softly nudging her calf. “Divide and conquer?”

Nova nods. “How much should we take?”

Din looks around, visor trained on the reddish haze of the outside world against the frosted windows. “Everything we can.”

Nova swallows, looking at the expanse of greenery spread across the floor in front of them. Large vines crawl up a staircase, spiraling up to another level. Those tiny, white flowers, signets of peace, lean back and forth in the windless greenhouse, driven by something other than the breeze. Tall grasses grow every few feet, guarding the pockets of edible greenery, of carrots and radishes and things that grow in the rich, deep soil, undisturbed by the horror here.

“Shouldn’t we leave something?” Nova asks, “for anyone else who travels here?”

Din regards her for a second. “No one else will travel here,” he says, finally, his voice quiet, “and if they do, they’re someone who deserves to starve.” He turns away to gather his own food, letting that red line tethered between the two of them go slack. Nova swallows.

Her dream was right, she concludes, as she starts to gather—peppers, mushrooms, lettuce—Din is haunted, possessed by something she can’t put her finger on, cannot name. She slips her gloves off to root through the soil untouched, and the glint of her ring catches in the low light. For a second, Nova stares down at it. It’s a testament of love, but it’s more than that—the band made of beskar, the embedded crystal glowing like a Kyber, white and glassy, otherworldly. The engagement belonged to a Nova in another universe, where the only evil she knew was Gideon, where the only love she knew was as Novalise.

Softly, she swallows a sob, tucks it away for later. It used to be so simple—she fell in love with a Mandalorian who was a bounty hunter, between missions and quarries, out in the crush of space. This life they live now—all this, and heaven too—is desperate, wanting, belonging to forces beyond tangible reach. Before all of this, they were just a Rebel and a Mandalorian—and now the Rebel is the Jedi ruler of Mandalore and the Mandalorian is worshiping the Jedi Rebel. Things have changed—in cosmic, drastic ways—and they’re hunting for something more, something deeper, something holy—something Nova doesn’t even know exists.

She would like it too, though. Stars, she wants it to.

Tucking her ring with the stone down, she gathers food, stuffing it into the small pack Bo-Katan gave her before they disembarked the ship. She layers the smaller vegetables within the leaves of lettuce and cabbage, unfurling them enough to tuck them in safely. Din has disappeared over the other side of the greenhouse, form rustling in the tall grass. Her section is picked clean, and Nova turns to head up the spiral staircase, metal preserved in this tiny safe haven, but creaking with disuse.

Din doesn’t turn as she rises, but Nova can see him, on his knees, sifting through soil for more food. Love springs to life in her heart as she watches him, the hunter—gathering, bending to the earth below them. She forces herself to keep moving, keep rising, keep going upward—want seizes in her belly again, and she would rather ignore it than find out it was never real at all.

The second floor is darker, even though it’s closer to where the sun would be, if the sun could shine on Parnassos at all. Large panels cover the roof, but they’re not to let the light in. They refract in the darkness, like a funhouse of mirrors, something Nova’s read about but has never actually seen. She makes her way through the thick vines and trees above them, navigating the haphazard maze of boxed-in gardens, flowers and thorns overflowing and running into each other. Freesia, marigolds, tulips, carnations, rhododendrons—thousands of flower species from planets all over the galaxy tumbling together, hidden from the sunlight but shining just the same.

Nova’s breath catches in her throat as handfuls of Yavin violets, impossibly purple, spring up from between the vibrant oranges and deep blues, blooming just for her. She leans down to smell them, forgetting that she’s wearing her helmet, forgetting why she’s wearing her helmet—

Nova disengages the airlock, completely focused on the flowers calling her home. She doesn’t think about the toxic air, the radioactive wasteland outside, if the greenhouse is safe enough to breathe in. She touches the tips of her bare fingers to the skin of the flower, the petal recognizing her by name, that ultraviolet light pulsing through the stem, so utterly alive against all this wreckage.

It calls out to her. It knows her by name.

Nova falls sideways into a vision. It’s slippage, so seamless that she doesn’t realize it at first—but then that unsettling feeling materializes, slips back in, making itself a home underneath her skin.

Insidious, Nova recognizes, that’s the word. Creeping into her bones, her marrow, until she herself is tainted.

A doorway. In the vision, there’s always a doorway. It’s so familiar, something ancient, something brand-new. It knows her all the same. Everything in the greenhouse fades away, shearing into something dark and deep-blue. Laughter echoes in the background, not like a whisper—like she’s too far away to hear it up close. Nova shivers, turning, trying to get back to that open doorway, trying to step back towards reality.

But she doesn't want to relinquish her grip on this otherness, not yet. She wants to scry into it, wants to find its absolution.

Nova spins, feeling herself drip through space. Suddenly, everything is black and white. She’s on a dais, but it's not the one back on Jedha, and it’s not the one from the woods in Naator. It’s a reflecting pool, in disguise as a mirror. She looks at herself, expecting to see Andromeda, Novalise, something she’s been before.

She doesn’t.

The woman staring back to her is Nova with all of her Nova-ness missing. Her eyes are haunted, black, obsidian. The color has seeped out of her face, everything in grayscale. She flickers the fingers on her left hand—in possession or in recognition, Nova’s not sure. She feels her own hand come up to meet her vision, her alter-ego, to touch the looking glass and reconcile the differences.

Her shadow-self pulls Nova straight through the mirror.

“Hello, me,” she croons, hand traveling up to Nova’s face, skating across the expanse of her cheeks, tucking dark ringlets behind the shell of her ear. “I’ve been waiting for you.”

“I am not you,” Nova manages. She feels like she’s moving through amber, or honey—suspended in place, unable to run. She has been planted into this black, rotting earth. “I will never be you.”

Her shadow-self curls those wicked lips up into a smile. It’s devoid of emotion, shattering, a destroyed star, a thousand knives pointed in her mouth, glittering like teeth. “Don’t be so sure,” she whispers, like a hex. She shoves that same left palm into the center of Nova’s chest, sending her spiraling back through the doorway, unspooling the haunting as she goes.

Nova thuds on the ground, hearing laughter echo and dance in the back of her skull. Like, now, it’s coming from inside her head. When she looks up, she’s in the tall grasses of Yavin, back home. Her parents are smiling down at her—Piper’s long, black hair catching in the sunlight, Arokel’s freckled face tipped back to laugh.

“We caught you, Andromeda,” they’re saying, teasing, gilded, laughing. “We caught you!”

It morphs, and her mother’s teeth snap into Sparmau’s, clicking so close to Nova’s face. She cries, skittering backward on her hands, needing to get away, to escape—Sparmau’s palm comes up and clutches her ankle, yanking Nova back to her. “I caught you, Andromeda.”

“You’re dead,” Nova manages, kicking her heel into Sparmau’s stomach, hard, sending her ghost sliding back to the ground, barren and dark under a thousand shining stars, winking in her favor. “You’re dead, and you can’t haunt me anymore.”

Sparmau grins. “I don’t need to. You’re doing an excellent job of it yourself.” Her teeth are so white, so poisonous. She snaps them at Nova again, once, twice. “And he’s coming for you, Novalise. He will destroy everything you love and then some.”

Nova blinks. “Who?”

“He’s baaaaack,” Sparmau goads. “And he will tear you apart.”

Nova rushes forward, anger surging in her chest like a live wire. “Who?” She spits again, clawing at Sparmau’s exposed skin with her nails, wanting to scissor her into ribbons, wanting to draw blood. Sparmau slips away like she’s just a ghost, disappearing like vapor in Nova’s hands.

“You already know,” Sparmau says, her disembodied voice floating higher, higher. “You’re already losing.”

“I have not lost!” Nova yells, but her voice sounds unhinged, dark. When the vision changes, she’s here. On Parnassos. Confused, she blinks, wiping her sleep-crusted eyes, trying to make the stars fade back into reality. Cautiously, she steps forward. There’s a giant ship in front of her—a Star Destroyer, but decidedly not the Chimaera. She doesn’t know how she knows it, but she does. Nova peers in, stepping through the metal doorway, as quiet as a whisper.

It looks broken, worn-down. This entire planet feels haunted, she realizes, and this ship even more so. It’s reduced to an exoskeleton, but Nova can sense the evil gathering here in the dark, a schematic of what will be, rather than what once was.

She steps forward, once, twice, and the scene shifts. It’s nothingness, just the crush of the Unknown Region. Nova turns, looking over her shoulder, certain she can feel something lurking, skittering towards her in the dark. Watching her.

This entire place is haunted.

Nova feels haunted, too.

It shifts again. Nova peers into a tank, where a creature is curled inside. Like a fetus, but it isn’t—it looks older, a mesh of purple skin, light and violet, a terrible feeling. The tank bubbles and multiples.

Out of habit, Nova looks over her shoulders, and there’s Grogu—terrified, in chains, staring up at the tank, too, quivering. She moves forward, wanting to shield him, to protect him, to cover him from this unsettling creature—

He presses his tiny, three-fingered hand against her temple. Nova gasps, pitching backward. She sees the outline of a vision, something that looks so uncertain it has to be futuristic, has to be something that’s yet to come, not something that once was. She sees the flash of lightsabers—one that effervescent Skywalker blue, one that’s an awful angry scar of red—and that purple creature on the throne, one that’s a grown, morphed mutated version of the tiny thing in the tank, laughing high and angry.

He peers through the vision, this creature, locking eyes with her. “You,” he whispers, reaching out a clawed hand, seeming to rip Nova across the sidelines, bring her across the room to him. “You have something we want.”

“No,” she manages.

He smiles. “Then we’ll take it from him, instead.” He points that awful hand at Grogu, summoning him—

And Nova shrieks, breaking the scene.

Now, Novalise stares down at her hands, her own hands—she knows them. They have fought off evil. They have belayed threats. They have killed and loved and tortured and saved. They’re imperfect, desperate, horrible, wonderful, a lifeline. She examines her palms, like tracing maps of the stars, finding truth in every ridge, every map.

Nova has fought off the darkness. She can close the fault line.

Desperately, she punches forward, trying to get her hands to ignite, to summon light, to feel the grasp of her lightsaber in her hands, to bring herself back down to earth.

Ezra’s face materializes through the dark. Nova abandons the tether, tripping toward him, arms outstretched.

“Where are you!” She cries, and she sounds tiny, so little, like a petulant, emotional child. “Ezra!”

“I am in every star,” he says, dreamlike, in a trace. His purple eyes are clouded, like the frosted glass of the greenhouse windows. Like he’s possessed. “I will find my way back home.”

“Ezra,” Nova says, panting, trying to hold his wrists between her hands. He keeps slipping away, amorphous, liquid. “I need to find you. Please, we’re trying to find you—”

Lucidity snaps back into his eyes, and Ezra snaps his hands, clawed and determined, to Nova’s shoulders. “Don’t come after me.”

Nova blinks. “Ezra,” she says, as steadily as she can manage, “we already have.”

Panic seized his face. So close to hers, so similar. Close, but not exact. “Then we’ve lost.”

Fear lurches up in Nova’s chest. “What do you mean?”

“I kept him away as long as I could,” Ezra says, “but he’s back, and that means the galaxy is in danger.”

Nova swallows. “The galaxy is always in danger,” she offers, trying to get him to smile, trying to coax them back from this cliff edge, back to reality.

Ezra looks straight through her, onto some other plane of existence. “Not like this.”

Shivering, Nova tries to move forward. Ezra’s iron grip keeps her in place. “Don’t throw it away,” he says, and all the times he’s said the same four words before are like a shock to her system, defibrillating her panicked heart.

“I didn’t,” Nova says, gently, gesturing behind her like that can encapsulate everything that happened with Sparmau.

“This is a different kind of danger,” Ezra says, haunting, like a spell. “This is a different kind of danger.”

Nova feels sick. “Why?”

“Can you feel the evil there?”

She stares at Ezra, so distant, so close. “Yes.”

“Then you’re aware of what’s coming.”

Nova can feel herself trembling. This is not what she was expecting—ever since the ground opened up underneath her to reveal rows and rows of awful, giant teeth, she’s had the feeling she’s been pulled into that open mouth, that gaping maw, that black hole. “I don’t know what’s coming,” she whispers, “do you?”

Ezra looks at her, considering. “It’s all connected,” he says, and then he’s spinning her around. A dematerialized blue face appears in front of her, red eyes, dark eyes. Nova is paralyzed with fear. He smiles at her, with the same kind of powerful, awful rows of teeth that Sparmau had, all aiming to kill.

“Hello, Novalise,” he whispers, his voice rumbling in the dark around them, “I’ve heard so much about you.”

Nova screams.

“Not yet,” he croons, “save that until I can hear it for real.”

“You’re not real,” Nova whispers like a mantra, a litany, something to protect her. “None of this is real.”

That smile, devastating, dangerous, shines on. The rest of the stars have striked from the sky. Just Nova and this blackness and the terror in front of her. “It’s not real yet,” he says, his voice like a caress, “but it will be.”

And Nova crashes out of the sky.

When he grabs her, Nova yells.

“It’s me!” Din yells, panicked, desperate, repeating himself over and over again until she’s grounded, until she recognizes the voice in front of her. “It’s me, cyar’ika, it’s just me—”

Sobbing, Nova lurches forward, launching herself into Din’s arms, desperate, wanting, reduced to nothing except herself.

“What happened,” Din murmurs, hands roving over her body to check for damage, for injuries. “I saw you disappear up here and a second later, you started screaming—”

“A second?”

Din stops, staring down at her under the helmet. “Yes.”

“I saw everything,” Nova whispers, her voice shaking, coming out chopped through the modulator, “in pieces.”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s all connected,” Nova says, shaking in Din’s arms, shivering with the weight of it all, the horrible place that she’s stuck and moored in, remnants of the vision dueling in her head, desperate, fragmented,. “It’s all connected. Ezra, and who he brought back with him. Sparmau, and the man Ezra’s with. This planet, the Unknown Regions, Gideon, the First Order, all of it—” she stops, a sob threatening to rip her chest open, an awful shard of truth, “Maker, Din, there’s so much we have to fight—”

“We will.”

He’s so resolute. It makes Nova ache.

“What if we don’t?” she whispers, still so unsteady. She feels disconnected from herself, unanchored, like she’s not fully back yet. “What if we just… leave?”

Din goes deathly still. “It’s not in our blood to run from a fight.”

“But—”

He shakes his head. “You can’t abandon everything now. You can’t run when it gets hard.”

Tears prick at Nova’s eyes. “Din, I—”

“I once wanted to protect you from the fight,” he says, voice deep and guttural. “But I couldn’t, because you always throw yourself into it anyway.”

Nova swallows. “I don’t want to fight,” she whispers, “not all of this.”

Din clutches her tighter, desperate, cloying. “That’s not true,” he whispers.

Nova stares up at him, her ungloved hands grabbing at the rim of his helmet, trying to pry it off. “Then bring me back,” she whispers, and the words sound familiar, but she can’t explain exactly why. “Make me see the truth.”

“How?” Din whispers, and Nova pulls his helmet clean off, like she’s haunted, like she’s possessed by something else. Want knives through her like it did back at the alleyway, like it did once in a dream.

“Fill me up, Din Djarin,” she breathes, fogging up the humid greenhouse air around them, “make me whole again.” Concern and desire war in Din’s eyes. Nova knows which one will win. She’s been here before. “Please,” she moans out, hungry, ravenous, nails clawing at the open expanse of his neck, “I need you.”

Three simple, little words, and Din comes unglued.

He moves forward like he’s been possessed. His eyes flutter closed as he pulls a kiss from her open mouth, ready and wanting, desperate and unhinged. Nova sinks into his skin, leaning back into the green, open ground. This is dangerous, the air in the greenhouse obscured from the wasteland outside but still not safe—and that lurch makes Nova want it more, deeper, stronger, her fingers prying off pieces of Din’s armor as he kisses her, hungry, wanting.

“More,” she mewls, in the dark, lush danger of the greenhouse, “more, Din, more—”

“I’m giving you everything,” he hisses, mouth latched onto the pulse point against her neck, making the mirrored glass above them refract and reflect with a thousand versions of Nova’s expression, dressed in ecstasy, eyes rolling back in her head. “Be patient.”

Something stills, for a second, and Nova decides it’s not enough. She reaches underneath his armor, prying more and more off, leaving beskar littered around their entwined bodies, fearless, heart thumping in her chest.

“Do you want me,” she whispers. It’s not insecurity—it’s the opposite. But it comes out breathy and high anyways, desperate.

Din stops to stare down at her. “You’re all I’ve ever wanted,” he says, his voice clipped, almost angry. “I want to devour you.”

“You say that every time,” Nova sighs, bucking her hips up to feel him, to latch around his armored waist. Something about this place is goading her, making her want to hurt, riding that line between pleasure and pain, perfect, determined.

Din’s lightning-fast. He reaches out to grab her neck, balancing it between the fingers of his hand, thumb pressed down to that sweet pulse point, the curve between pressing against her hairway, sending Novalise back up to the stars. “I would tear you apart,” he croons, “is that what you want to hear? That I’ll be on your scent, ready to destroy the world for you. When I say devour, cyar’ika,” he says, pressing down until the stars multiply, “I mean destruction. Can you handle that?”

“Yes,” Nova squeaks, breathless, air taken right out of her lungs.

“I don’t think you can.”

“I can take it,” Nova whispers, whines, into the shattering green dark of this place around them. “I can take anything.”

Din smiles down on her, bright enough to shatter the stars above. “That’s my girl.”

It was all a trick—to bring her her strength. To bring Nova herself back. She grins back up at him, love pumping through her veins, vital, strong.

“What if I want you to destroy me anyways,” she whispers, into the hollow of his neck, licking her tongue along his collarbone. “What happens then?”

Din’s eyes flash as she pulls away, smiling up at him, teasing him, testing him. “Is that what you want?”

“I want you,” Nova whispers, “need you, Din, please—”

“Stop talking,” he growls, and she shuts up.

His lips on her neck feel like devotion, divinity—if this is destruction, it’s desecration. Din moves closer, closer still, pinning Nova’s body underneath his own, pieces of beskar littered around them, the other half still glittering on his body. It’s desperate, it’s reckless, it’s everything Nova needs. He moans out into the dip of her throat as she rakes her bare nails against his back, fingers clenching at the waistband of his pants, begging to pry him free.

It's so different from the wasteland outside, than the wasteland in her dreams. Nova feels that same hunger, that want calling out to her. But what was once vantablack and obsidian is green and honeyed, is her something more. This feels like it’s something else entirely, something saner—but not safer. She can feel her breathing get marred by this wasteland air, by the apocalypse waiting outside.

“Life your hips,” Din pants into the shell of her ear. Nova’s entire body erupts in chills. She obeys. She feels it, now, the same crush that he used to pin her down with, the desperate claw he used to use on her all the way back on the Razor Crest, undone, divine. Nova feels air hit her, flush against her exposed skin, at the apex of her thighs. Din pulls everything down in the same yank, fingers scraping against the humidity of her skin, worshiping her in a way that feels sanctified instead of pious. He doesn’t give her a second of give before he pushes inside of her, all give, all take.

“Oh,” Nova moans, the sound of it ricocheting off the open air around them, off the mirrors on the ceiling reflecting their entangled bodies. “Oh, Maker, Din—”

“Your Maker,” Din grunts, “isn’t here right now. Just me, cyar’ika.”

Nova moans again, high and refracted back at her. She would be embarrassed if he didn’t feel so good. He’s bisecting her, driving into the hilt, using his cock as a weapon. Devastation yes, desecration—something holy between them in all this sin, all this danger.

“Give everything to me,” he whispers, like he’s pleading. He’s no longer demanding. Somewhere, buried deep within her cunt, the roles have shifted. Now it’s Nova in charge, even as she’s being speared open by the man she loves, even as they’re doing something. Give and take, this power, this divinity unspooled between the two of them.

Equality.

That’s what it’s always been, with Nova and Din—push and pull, ebb and flow—but both of them are equal in measure, in power, in lust, in love.

“More,” Nova cries out again, and Din obeys.

“Nova,” he sighs, fisting her hair, yanking her head back. When it opens again, Nova feels her eyes roll back. “Mine, mine, mine.”

“Yours,” she whispers, as he repeats it like a hymn, a prayer. Something beyond what she’s ever heard before. Something holy, a confessional of the flesh.

“Gonna cum,” he whispers, and it’s ragged and split down the middle, and her legs shake as she becomes undone, too. “Gonna–”

And then they’re both painted and panting, woven together, inextricable. Nova feels everything in her skin flush, come back to life.

“What do you want?” Din whispers, “Now that you’ve already had me.”

Nova runs her fingers over the slope of his nose, the high points of his cheekbones. “To win.”

Din smiles back at her, the rest of the room fading out. “I know.”

“We’re going to find Ezra,” Nova says, tracing a finger over his eyebrow, “we’re going to figure out who he’s fighting, and we’re going to win.”

“There you are,” Din says. “Don’t you dare lose that again.”

Nova looks over at him, raising her eyebrows before they both put their helmets back on in tandem, ready to face the world outside, the apocalyptic wasteland on their way back to the ship, and the expanse doesn’t seem so terrible. That fault line shifts, cracks, but it right now, it feels surmountable.

“Lose what?”

Din reaches forward to brush his hand across her heart. “Hope.”

He clips Ezra’s holopad to his belt, reaching out for Nova’s hand, ready to descend out of the greenhouse, to meet Bo-Katan, and return back to the ship.

Neither of them notice the new message light blinking blue.

I HOPE YOU LOVED IT!!!!!! i'm so happy to be posting regularly again :') lemme know how you like it <3

Chapter 3 will be up at 7:30 pm EST on Saturday, April 8th!!! <3

xoxo, amelie

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