COAST - Luffy x Reader

65. Unfinished Battles

Guys... I made a mistake in the last chapter. Franky didn't have the keys for Robin's cuffs, Sniper King delivered them all the way from Enies Lobby. I'll go back and fix that at some point, but I wanted to correct it here for now so it doesn't dumb-down on Sniper King's contributions lol

Also! We're hosting another event in the community discord!! There's been some interest in creating outfits for (Y/n) in future arcs, so we're opening up the opportunity for everyone to submit their ideas and potentially have them featured in the story. A winning entry (or multiple, depending on how many people participate) will be selected by myself and the admins, and will be featured as canon from then on out. So... If you're an artist who might be interested in that, the link to join the discord is in my profile description :)))

Okie dokie, that about covers it! We're approaching the 'resolution' portion of this arc – and I'm so excited for everything that's to come!! All good things!

Happy reading <333

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Leaning my full body weight against the door, dealing with the knob turns out to be no easy feat. For a moment, I consider that it may be stuck, metal corroded by the salty air. In reality I was simply lacking strength. Aches and pains made my joints creaky, especially when supporting muscles thin as paper.

I'd teetered my way down the stairs like a puppet on faulty strings, a solid few minutes surely wasted in the process. Wasted time or not – forced to either take it slow, or throw myself down the stairs as Rachel did – the choice was obvious. No need to gain more injuries in some catastrophic rush.

Still, I've managed to get here... And Luffy was on the other side of this door.

Rocks knock at the solid wood. Wrapped tight around my arm is one of the bolas, awkward and pinching as rough fibers rub wrongly against skin. Weapon-turned-tourniquet in an attempt to stop the bleeding of my gouged arm, learning the skill from Chopper had really come in handy; It was working, lessening blood flow enough where the wound could clot, although here and there I felt the occasional lines of sticky crimson dribbling to my fingertips... Better than nothing.

Gripping hard, hands weak, I wrench my trembling wrist to the side. The doorknob squeaks, the wood creaks. There's an added pressure behind, blocking the way, making the door a-thousand times heavier. Without a shadow, or any other tell, I couldn't discern what might've been blocking it. I know Luffy is in there now, but who knows what'd happened since I left. Was it obstructed with debris? Was the door just broken?

I guess there's only one way to find out.

A huff – a deep breath – bracing for whatever might be on the other side – I lift my rested shoulder, turn the handle, and then drop myself back onto the wooden surface – a humanized-battering-ram.

The bottom of the door scrapes against the granite...

Splash!

I fell right through the opening, the door opened a little easier than predicted.

Water. The room is flooded with it. Lapping at my wrists, enveloping my hands in a chill, the blood washes from my skin. A delicate current smooths around my figure, racing from the room, flowing towards the newly established exit.

It's cold. I raise my hands and dripping seawater slides down my arms, into the gashes. The resulting shock is swift, striking like a lightning bolt over my nerves, all the way up to my shoulder blades.

Frozen to stone for a moment, the pain catches up to my brain, registering with a hitched gasp. Then the arm is retrieved, drawn in as it seizes and I fight to breathe through the burning sensation of my wounds being brined.