#day eight: the other timeline
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archaeren · 7 months ago
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How I learned to write smarter, not harder
(aka, how to write when you're hella ADHD lol)
A reader commented on my current long fic asking how I write so well. I replied with an essay of my honestly pretty non-standard writing advice (that they probably didn't actually want lol) Now I'm gonna share it with you guys and hopefully there's a few of you out there who will benefit from my past mistakes and find some useful advice in here. XD Since I started doing this stuff, which are all pretty easy changes to absorb into your process if you want to try them, I now almost never get writer's block.
The text of the original reply is indented, and I've added some additional commentary to expand upon and clarify some of the concepts.
As for writing well, I usually attribute it to the fact that I spent roughly four years in my late teens/early 20s writing text roleplay with a friend for hours every single day. Aside from the constant practice that provided, having a live audience immediately reacting to everything I wrote made me think a lot about how to make as many sentences as possible have maximum impact so that I could get that kind of fun reaction. (Which is another reason why comments like yours are so valuable to fanfic writers! <3) The other factors that have improved my writing are thus: 1. Writing nonlinearly. I used to write a whole story in order, from the first sentence onward. If there was a part I was excited to write, I slogged through everything to get there, thinking that it would be my reward once I finished everything that led up to that. It never worked. XD It was miserable. By the time I got to the part I wanted to write, I had beaten the scene to death in my head imagining all the ways I could write it, and it a) no longer interested me and b) could not live up to my expectations because I couldn't remember all my ideas I'd had for writing it. The scene came out mediocre and so did everything leading up to it. Since then, I learned through working on VN writing (I co-own a game studio and we have some visual novels that I write for) that I don't have to write linearly. If I'm inspired to write a scene, I just write it immediately. It usually comes out pretty good even in a first draft! But then I also have it for if I get more ideas for that scene later, and I can just edit them in. The scenes come out MUCH stronger because of this. And you know what else I discovered? Those scenes I slogged through before weren't scenes I had no inspiration for, I just didn't have any inspiration for them in that moment! I can't tell you how many times there was a scene I had no interest in writing, and then a week later I'd get struck by the perfect inspiration for it! Those are scenes I would have done a very mediocre job on, and now they can be some of the most powerful scenes because I gave them time to marinate. Inspiration isn't always linear, so writing doesn't have to be either!
Some people are the type that joyfully write linearly. I have a friend like this--she picks up the characters and just continues playing out the next scene. Her story progresses through the entire day-by-day lives of the characters; it never timeskips more than a few hours. She started writing and posting just eight months ago, she's about an eighth of the way through her planned fic timeline, and the content she has so far posted to AO3 for it is already 450,000 words long. But most of us are normal humans. We're not, for the most part, wired to create linearly. We consume linearly, we experience linearly, so we assume we must also create linearly. But actually, a lot of us really suffer from trying to force ourselves to create this way, and we might not even realize it. If you're the kind of person who thinks you need to carrot-on-a-stick yourself into writing by saving the fun part for when you finally write everything that happens before it: Stop. You're probably not a linear writer. You're making yourself suffer for no reason and your writing is probably suffering for it. At least give nonlinear writing a try before you assume you can't write if you're not baiting or forcing yourself into it!! Remember: Writing is fun. You do this because it's fun, because it's your hobby. If you're miserable 80% of the time you're doing it, you're probably doing it wrong!
2. Rereading my own work. I used to hate reading my own work. I wouldn't even edit it usually. I would write it and slap it online and try not to look at it again. XD Writing nonlinearly forced me to start rereading because I needed to make sure scenes connected together naturally and it also made it easier to get into the headspace of the story to keep writing and fill in the blanks and get new inspiration. Doing this built the editing process into my writing process--I would read a scene to get back in the headspace, dislike what I had written, and just clean it up on the fly. I still never ever sit down to 'edit' my work. I just reread it to prep for writing and it ends up editing itself. Many many scenes in this fic I have read probably a dozen times or more! (And now, I can actually reread my own work for enjoyment!) Another thing I found from doing this that it became easy to see patterns and themes in my work and strengthen them. Foreshadowing became easy. Setting up for jokes or plot points became easy. I didn't have to plan out my story in advance or write an outline, because the scenes themselves because a sort of living outline on their own. (Yes, despite all the foreshadowing and recurring thematic elements and secret hidden meanings sprinkled throughout this story, it actually never had an outline or a plan for any of that. It's all a natural byproduct of writing nonlinearly and rereading.)
Unpopular writing opinion time: You don't need to make a detailed outline.
Some people thrive on having an outline and planning out every detail before they sit down to write. But I know for a lot of us, we don't know how to write an outline or how to use it once we've written it. The idea of making one is daunting, and the advice that it's the only way to write or beat writer's block is demoralizing. So let me explain how I approach "outlining" which isn't really outlining at all.
I write in a Notion table, where every scene is a separate table entry and the scene is written in the page inside that entry. I do this because it makes writing nonlinearly VASTLY more intuitive and straightforward than writing in a single document. (If you're familiar with Notion, this probably makes perfect sense to you. If you're not, imagine something a little like a more contained Google Sheets, but every row has a title cell that opens into a unique Google Doc when you click on it. And it's not as slow and clunky as the Google suite lol) (Edit from the future: I answered an ask with more explanation on how I use Notion for non-linear writing here.) When I sit down to begin a new fic idea, I make a quick entry in the table for every scene I already know I'll want or need, with the entries titled with a couple words or a sentence that describes what will be in that scene so I'll remember it later. Basically, it's the most absolute bare-bones skeleton of what I vaguely know will probably happen in the story.
Then I start writing, wherever I want in the list. As I write, ideas for new scenes and new connections and themes will emerge over time, and I'll just slot them in between the original entries wherever they naturally fit, rearranging as necessary, so that I won't forget about them later when I'm ready to write them. As an example, my current long fic started with a list of roughly 35 scenes that I knew I wanted or needed, for a fic that will probably be around 100k words (which I didn't know at the time haha). As of this writing, it has expanded to 129 scenes. And since I write them directly in the page entries for the table, the fic is actually its own outline, without any additional effort on my part. As I said in the comment reply--a living outline!
This also made it easier to let go of the notion that I had to write something exactly right the first time. (People always say you should do this, but how many of us do? It's harder than it sounds! I didn't want to commit to editing later! I didn't want to reread my work! XD) I know I'm going to edit it naturally anyway, so I can feel okay giving myself permission to just write it approximately right and I can fix it later. And what I found from that was that sometimes what I believed was kind of meh when I wrote it was actually totally fine when I read it later! Sometimes the internal critic is actually wrong. 3. Marinating in the headspace of the story. For the first two months I worked on [fic], I did not consume any media other than [fandom the fic is in]. I didn't watch, read, or play anything else. Not even mobile games. (And there wasn't really much fan content for [fandom] to consume either. Still isn't, really. XD) This basically forced me to treat writing my story as my only source of entertainment, and kept me from getting distracted or inspired to write other ideas and abandon this one.
As an aside, I don't think this is a necessary step for writing, but if you really want to be productive in a short burst, I do highly recommend going on a media consumption hiatus. Not forever, obviously! Consuming media is a valuable tool for new inspiration, and reading other's work (both good and bad, as long as you think critically to identify the differences!) is an invaluable resource for improving your writing.
When I write, I usually lay down, close my eyes, and play the scene I'm interested in writing in my head. I even take a ten-minute nap now and then during this process. (I find being in a state of partial drowsiness, but not outright sleepiness, makes writing easier and better. Sleep helps the brain process and make connections!) Then I roll over to the laptop next to me and type up whatever I felt like worked for the scene. This may mean I write half a sentence at a time between intervals of closed-eye-time XD
People always say if you're stuck, you need to outline.
What they actually mean by that (whether they realize it or not) is that if you're stuck, you need to brainstorm. You need to marinate. You don't need to plan what you're doing, you just need to give yourself time to think about it!
What's another framing for brainstorming for your fic? Fantasizing about it! Planning is work, but fantasizing isn't.
You're already fantasizing about it, right? That's why you're writing it. Just direct that effort toward the scenes you're trying to write next! Close your eyes, lay back, and fantasize what the characters do and how they react.
And then quickly note down your inspirations so you don't forget, haha.
And if a scene is so boring to you that even fantasizing about it sucks--it's probably a bad scene.
If it's boring to write, it's going to be boring to read. Ask yourself why you wanted that scene. Is it even necessary? Can you cut it? Can you replace it with a different scene that serves the same purpose but approaches the problem from a different angle? If you can't remove the troublesome scene, what can you change about it that would make it interesting or exciting for you to write?
And I can't write sitting up to save my damn life. It's like my brain just stops working if I have to sit in a chair and stare at a computer screen. I need to be able to lie down, even if I don't use it! Talking walks and swinging in a hammock are also fantastic places to get scene ideas worked out, because the rhythmic motion also helps our brain process. It's just a little harder to work on a laptop in those scenarios. XD
In conclusion: Writing nonlinearly is an amazing tool for kicking writer's block to the curb. There's almost always some scene you'll want to write. If there isn't, you need to re-read or marinate.
Or you need to use the bathroom, eat something, or sleep. XD Seriously, if you're that stuck, assess your current physical condition. You might just be unable to focus because you're uncomfortable and you haven't realized it yet.
Anyway! I hope that was helpful, or at least interesting! XD Sorry again for the text wall. (I think this is the longest comment reply I've ever written!)
And same to you guys on tumblr--I hope this was helpful or at least interesting. XD Reblogs appreciated if so! (Maybe it'll help someone else!)
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lmaowhatt · 2 months ago
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pogue beach night - jj m.
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summary: the pogues have come back to obx as a form of unwinding after jjs near death experience in morocco, at the hands of his biological father, deciding that a beach day in their 'safe-haven' would be best.
set: i chat gpt'd the timelines and it says the start of s4 is based around early 2024, which doesnt make sense because s3 (after the 18 month time jump) for me ended around march 2023. so, we will act like sarah found out she was pregnant may 2023 and baby jj was born february 2024. since she is seven months, well pretend this is mid-september 2024.
one - two - three - four
psa: jarah had their baby and named her josephine joy. she is around 7 months.
pairing: jj maybank x pogue!reader
warnings: suggestive words/topics, talks of pregnancy, pregnancy trope, cursing.
if theres any others feel free to let me know!
the sun has only just began to set as the scenery changed from small rundown houses, trees on the edge of the streets of the cut to miles and miles of sand that never seemed to end, along with the sound of waves crashing against the shore as jj whooped from hit spot in the twinkie behind john b, who was in the drivers seat.
"i love this shit guys. its like christmas and sex rolled into one." the boy smiled giddily, everyone else in the twinkie twisting their faces with looks of disgust. "why those two things together, jj?" pope voiced, a grimace evident as jj turned in his seat to face him. "you dont want the deets, pope." he patted the boys shoulder in false sympathy, only causing pope to sit back in his seat with a quiet groan, shoving jjs hand off.
you let your mouth drop agape, slapping the boys chest with a small gasp once he sat back upright, "youre so disgusting." the boy only retaliated with a shit-eating grin on his face, "im still injured, y'know? you somehow wound me more, baby." he jokes. leaning down slightly to mutter in your ear, "plus, with all the 'disgusting' pleas i had you whimpering into my ear last night, i think we can both say youre equally as 'disgusting', hm?" you could only roll your eyes as jj brought his fingers into a quotation mark, a smirk playing on his face as a blush crept onto your cheeks, which only caused jj to smile triumphantly and sit back to look out the window.
john b could only groan quietly from the drivers seat, fake gagging as sarah stifled a laugh from next to him. the boy was never a good whisperer.
this was one of those very special days in the pogues lives where everything in the eight pogues lives was calm. the group was able to get their home and business back after finding a loophole in the paperwork that was filed when it was taken from them.
it was one of those rare days when everyone had a moment to themselves—either taking a break from the bait-and-tackle shop, calming baby josephine joy, or simply having nothing to do. it was a beach day, at least for the pogues it was. from your spot between jj's legs, you watched as kiara played with baby jj, the little girl's hands wrapped around kies thumbs. you watched as kies boyfriend, james, watched her and baby jj with a small smile.
you smiled, leaning back into jj’s stomach as you fiddled with his ring-clad hand, his other hand gently massaging the back of your head. "alright, guys," john b called to the group as he shifted the twinkie into park.
"we have arrived." he finished with a droopy smile and squinted eyes, causing kie to snort, "okay, batman." she joked, erupting small laughs from the rest of the group as they climbed out of the twinkie one by one.
when jj stepped out of the twinkie, he held a hand out for you, which you accepted gratefully with a small smile directed towards him. he helped everyone else out of the twinkie, or more so stood there holding the door until the last person, pope came out.
jj slapped the boy's butt with a flat palm as he shut the twinkie door. pope gasped, while cleo chuckled softly, careful not to give jj the satisfaction of knowing he’d made even the toughest of the group laugh with a very, very terrible joke.
when you and the girls looked away to help john b get the things off the roof of the twinkie, pope blew a fake kiss to jj, one which the blonde caught in his hands, holding it to his chest like a 1960's sitcom.
the two laughed almost immediately after, wrapping an arm around each others shoulders as they walked to where the rest of the group was now setting up chairs and towels not too far from the shore.
jjs eyes shifted to where you were with baby jj as pope left his side to go to where cleo was. he smiled as josephine rested on your hip and you pointed out different views in the distance and she babbled along. he approached your left side, wrapping an arm around your shoulders, running his fingers along josephines scalp.
you smiled up at him, leaning into his chest slightly, "y'know..." he trailed off as he looked down at you with the same affectionate smile. "maybe one day we could have one of these lil' munchkins." he finished as he took note of your immediate surprised smile. you truly didnt expected hed be one to commit to kids.
"uh, um. i mean like- obviously like- i mean later into our relationship, y'know? shit- sorry." he stammered as he removed his hand from your shoulder with a sheepish smile. you laughed, placing your non occupied hand on his shoulder, "baby, dont worry. i just didnt think youd be one to commit to a kid," you explained with a small smile, rubbing your thumb along his shoulder.
he shrugged, now a little more relieved, "i d'know mama, you're changing me," he bumped your shoulder with his playfully, earning a small laugh from you, only widening his smile. "well, im glad," you say before looking towards josie, who held a strand of your hair in her small hand. "id be up for one, later, y'know. plus, i think youd be a good dad." you turned back to jj with a smile.
his heart warmed at your small compliment. "really? y'think so?" you nodded at him, turning slightly to hand josephine off to sarah who had come over with her hands slightly outstretched. you closed your finger to your palm repeatedly as a small goodbye as she did the same. you smiled, turning back to jj, "yeah, i know.. uhm, what you went through," you nodded cautiously.
"and.. i know youll push to be the furthest from that," you finish as he smiles, genuinely. he felt a small tear threaten to fall from the corner of his eye, so, he quickly pulled you into a hug, hoping you didnt catch his teary eyes. you huffed a breath of air out slightly before wrapping your arms around his waist.
you felt him shake slightly so you pulled away, placing your hands on either side of his face guiding him to face you. you tilted your head to the side with a small pout, rubbing your thumb on his undereye with a small chuckle. "baby, dont cry. im sorry," you apologized, moving your gaze back to his eyes.
"shit, youre right. were at the fuckin' beach," he scoffed removing his face from your hands, trying to dismiss his own feelings. "hey, dont do that. c'mere." you tugged his hand slightly back towards you as he tried to walk away. "i didnt mean it like that, im sorry. i didnt mean to make you cry, baby. i just- i mean i know if we ever had a kid, youll be the greatest dad ever." you wiped another tear that had fallen, "i know all the shit youve been through, dont think you cant cry because of that, mkay?"
you smiled as he nodded, "yeah, okay." he tilted his head slightly, wiping his own eyes. "you okay now? im sorry for saying like you cant cr-" you continued until he shook his head, pulling you into another hug, placing a lingering kiss to your forehead. "thank you, mamas." he muttered into your hair as you hugged his upper torso. "'course my love." you smiled up at him as he pulled away. wrapping your arms around his neck, you placed a small kiss onto his lips.
"okay," you patted his chest. twice, glancing at the water, "go, have fun." you smiled at him before pointing a stern finger in his direction, "be careful with that cut, alright? its still healing." you raised his shirt slightly to look at the gash on his left abdomen. he chuckled, pulling his shirt back down, "hey, we cant do that here," he joked as you pushed his chest with your lips pulled into a line.
"im serious. just please be careful!" you called after him with a small smile on your face as he ran into the water where john b, pope and james were playing around with baby josephine. you ran a hand through your hair as you approached the girls, "you trust your husband and those idiots with her, sarah?" kie asked with a small laugh, earning laughs from the other girls. "not really, but i can tolerate him so, its fine. plus he knows how pissed i get even when he tosses her in the air, so.." she shrugged, sitting down on her towel.
you shook your head with a small laugh, "im happy you two finally got married- or were able to. youve been together since you two were like sixteen." you sat down on jjs lawn chair, towel placed over it. sarah furrowed her eyebrows in mock offense, "okay, well you and jj have been together almost three years, i dont see you two moving along," she states matter of factly, "we have not," you scoffed in return.
cleo raised her eyebrows, "yes you have, girl. right before we left to south america, remember?" she moved her head forwards slightly as if to get her point across further. you face slightly dropped, "shit, we have. i mean- after everything i kinda lost track of time." kie nodded in understanding, "girl, youll be okay. i forgot about me and james first anniversary because of everything thats happened," you, sarah and cleo laughed, "he forgot too so," the girl shrugged. "made me feel better," she added sheepishly as you and the other girls laughed once again.
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the early afternoon soon turned into early to mid dusk, the sun had just set beyond the horizon, setting a yellow hue onto the beach as the boy started a fire, more so playing around than actually lighting said fire. "john b! please, be careful!" sarah called out to the man as he played around with josephine too close to the fire for the umpteenth time.
"jeez, that man is going to give me a heart attack," she muttered to the girls as they grabbed multiple of the things set down to move to where the guys where setting up. you laughed, "'bout time. hes been giving me an aneurysm since grade school." you and kie both laughed with a small high five, "jj, too. join the club girl." kie quipped as cleo nodded, "guess i got lucky," she shrugs, motioning to pope who was busy with james actually setting up the fire.
you narrowed your eyes at her as the four of you walked towards the guys and baby jj, "once these guys corrupt him, youll join the club too, girl. dont worry," you mocked her with a small kissy face, one to which she rolled her eyes to. "they already corrupted james. couldn't keep him innocent for even a year," kie fake wiped a tear from her eyes, the other girls laughing.
almost immediately, sarah handed john b the things in her hand and grabbed josephine from his shoulders, placing her on her hip and handing her a random toy she had in her diaper bag.
you handed jj the things in your hands too, more politely than sarah had. "can you set this up please, j?" you questioned, placing a small kiss on his lips. he smiled at the gesture, "yes ma'am," he saluted you, hitting himself in the face with the bag of food they brought. you laughed with a shake of your head, walking off to where sarah was sitting, the backseat entrance of the twinkie, door open.
you turned slightly to where baby josie was, sitting on the floor of the twinkie as she sat and played with random toys, "y'know.. jj said he wants to start trying for one," you told sarah, who was watching you and josie. "really? him?" she asked as she moved closer into the twinkie. you nodded in response with a small chuckle, "yeah, i was surprised too. but," you shrugged, "i dont know. i wouldnt be opposed to it,"
she pushed your shoulder playfully, "youd be a good mom, seriously. and i know for a fact hed be a good dad." she reassures, to which you nod your head, "yeah, i know." sarah furrows her eyebrows, "whats wrong?" she asked. you shook your head, "its nothing. i was just caught by surprise with it, y'know?"
the blonde in front of you smiled sympathetically, "i get it, honey. but at least you know he wants this. i was scared shitless when i found out about josie, didnt even wanna imagine john bs reaction." the woman began, mentioning the previous conversation the two of you had.
"but jj came to you, basically saying he was ready, i dont think you have to worry about that. but, he wont be pissed if youre not ready, he loves you." she placed a hand on your shoulder, tilting her head slightly. you nodded, moving your hands to pick josephine up, placing her on your lap as he placed her hands on both sides of your face.
you smiled, "one of these would be really cute," you looked at josies baby features, in awe. from her chubby thighs, to her small pigtails adorned with small white bows, you smiled. you heard a small crashing sound, looking up at jj, who was now lying flat on the sand as john b fake stabbed a stick into his chest, "god, would that baby be an idiot though," sarah laughed, which only caused a laugh to erupt from your throat as well. handing baby josie back to sarah, the both of you stood and approached the other six, all sat with their respective couple around the fire.
you approached jj as he sat down, sitting down next to him and placing your legs over his lap. you moved your head to rest on his chest, his arm going around your shoulders while he moved his other hand onto your thigh closest to him. "you okay?" he asked, looking down at you with a small smile. you nodded, "im okay, baby," you assured him.
he rubbed small circles on your thigh as the high energy settled. the boys were quietly conversing with each other, beers in hand as the girls pitched in every now and then, mostly enjoying the small moment of peace they had gotten after going through years of torment and bad news.
this was it.
the pogue life.
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cosmicdahlias · 29 days ago
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Christmas Across the Rio Grande
Logan Howlett x Reader
MINORS DNI
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Christmas has come and you’re spending it getting drunk with an old, hardened Logan.
tags: age gap, alcohol use, drunk sex, couch sex, p in v, unprotected sex, creampie
sooo timeline-wise this takes place at the end of 2028. i tried to do my best research as to when caliban comes into the picture and there wasn’t much, but from what i’ve read it seems logan recruited him some time in 2029, so he will not be in this fic. sorry for posting a christmas fic a day late, i only got the idea for this two days ago 😭
Life had not been the same in months. Charles Xavier, once head and founder of Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters, had developed dementia, leading to frequent destructive telepathic seizures. One such seizure became known as the Westchester Incident, leaving the school destroyed, many injured, and some of your fellow mutants dead.
Having grown up in an orphanage until aging out of the system and spending the first eight years of adulthood on the streets, Charles was the closest thing you’d ever had to a father and the school was the only place that ever truly felt like home. In such a short time you had lost both. Even though Charles was still very much alive, the dementia left him a shell of his former self.
After Westchester the United States government declared Charles’ brain as a “weapon of mass destruction”, leaving you and another mutant to take him and go on the run, fleeing to an abandoned smelting plant in Mexico just across the Rio Grande.
The other mutant was the notorious Wolverine, Logan Howlett. For reasons unknown to you, his appearance had changed dramatically in the last five years. Despite not being able to age he looked like he’d gone from forty to sixty in record time.
Since escaping with you and Charles to Mexico, Logan had taken to going by “James”, his actual name, and worked as a limo driver in the border city of El Paso. He would regularly smuggle in the drugs to keep Charles’ seizures at bay.
In the days before Westchester you were never fond of Logan. He was a loner, seeming to keep everyone at arm’s length, save for those he would bed. Perhaps it was his tendencies towards promiscuity when he claimed to be in love with Jean Grey, a married woman, that irked you more than his personality.
He was passed around the mansion so frequently that from what you’d heard there were times he accidentally “double booked” himself. There was a part of you, buried somewhere deep, that harbored a resentment towards him for never seeking out your affections like he did for nearly any other adult with a pulse.
Living in close proximity since being thrust into exile with him had softened your opinions considerably. The shared trauma of losing everything and everyone had brought you two closer, as close as he would allow.
December was coming to an end. The nights were blisteringly cold and the winds only served to make them colder. The poorly insulated, run-down plant did little to protect you from the elements.
You were heading back inside from painstakingly, but successfully, attempting to medicate Charles. The heavy gales howled, making it a struggle to close the door before finally managing slam it shut. You turned around to see Logan sitting on the couch, bottle of whiskey in hand. He was wearing his typical non-work attire, a white tank top and jeans.
“He finally down?” He asked.
“For now, I swear those drugs used to knock him out for longer. He wouldn’t stop going on about Taco Bell for some reason.”
“Yeah, he uh… he does that a lot now.”
You gave a heavy sigh.
“It just sucks because it makes those moments where he acts like himself again hurt more.”
“What’d he say this time?”
“He just- I don’t know- whenever he actually says my name I know it’s him in there. Most of the time he calls me Jean, but I-“ your voice began to break “I don’t know how much more of this I can take Logan, watching his mind wither away into nothing.” You said, tears forming in your eyes.
For a moment you swore you saw a flicker of concern spread across his face.
“I’m thinking of bringing in some extra help.” He said.
“And what? We risk someone else knowing that we’re harboring a fugitive?”
“With me working that leaves you as the only one here most of the time. If god forbid something happens while I’m out and he hurts you, what then?”
You fell silent. He was right, you couldn’t keep caring for Charles alone when his seizures could be so dangerous and unpredictable. You had no rebuttal.
“Fine, but finding another mutant won’t be easy.”
“I’m well aware, but I’m done talking business, you look like you could use a drink.”
Logan extended out his bottle of whiskey, a rare invitation for you to join him. You smirked and took it.
“Look at you actually wanting to interact with someone for once.”
“Don’t make me regret it.”
You sat next to him on the moth-eaten couch, drinking a few shots worth from the bottle.
“Thirsty?” Logan asked with a cocked brow.
“Shut up, it’s been a long day.” You retorted, downing another shot and handing the bottle back to him.
Between the two of you the whiskey was finished within half an hour, leaving you significantly intoxicated, him slightly less so. When drunk Logan was far more open, and for the first time since Westchester you actually saw him smile. As the night progressed the two of you reminisced about life before Mexico and shared life stories you hadn’t told each other.
“A cage fighter?” You giggled.
“Yeah, went by Wolverine back then too.”
“Wow, too lazy to even try to come up with another name?” You teased as you looked down at your phone and read the time, midnight of the 25th.
“Oh shit, it’s already Christmas.” You said.
“Honestly wouldn’t have known if you didn’t say anything, the days just run together at this point.”
“No kidding, everything’s so different now.”
“… Yeah.”
A wistful silence hung in the air for a moment before you spoke.
“You know it’s hard not to miss the holidays back at the school… can’t say I miss Jean’s cooking though. I know how you felt about her, but that woman could not season food to save her life. I’m pretty sure she thought salt was too spicy.”
Logan gave a chuckle.
“Can’t disagree with you on that one.”
“I think what I miss most was seeing the kids all happy on Christmas morning, growing up in an orphanage I never got that for myself. Thanks to Bobby they always had a good snowball fight.”
“I miss that kid. Him and Rogue.”
“Kid? They were both pushing 40.” You laughed.
“They were kids when I met them and that’s always how I’ll remember them. Especially Rogue.”
“I always thought she saw you as like a father figure.”
“She definitely did, no matter how many times I told her not to.”
“I miss her so much, she was the first one other than Charles to make me feel like I belonged there. Fuck, I just miss all of them. It was only five years, but it was the best damn five years of my life, actually having something like a family.”
“Yeah, I know what you mean.”
You gave a wry smile.
“And in the end out of all of the X-Men to be stuck with of course it had to be you.” You teased, elbowing him playfully.
“You say that like it’s a joke, but you really had it in for me.”
“I mean I did, but you didn’t exactly come off as a nice guy.”
“I can be a nice guy, you just never tried to get to know me.”
“Would you have let me though?”
“Maybe.”
He looked at you in a way you’d never seen from him before, it made your heart do a backflip.
“You know, even if I wasn’t crazy about you back then I’m glad you’re here with me.” You said.
Logan raised a brow.
“Why’s that?”
“Because as much as I hate to say it, I’ve grown to like you.”
“A mistake honestly.” He chuckled.
A cold desert wind suddenly blew against dilapidated smelting plant. Frigid air crept in through the gaps in the walls, eliciting a shiver as it hit you.
“Cold?” Logan asked.
“Y- yeah.“
“Alright, c’mere.”
Logan pulled you against him, wrapping his arms around you. His body radiated an incredible amount of heat, a more than welcoming feeling in the bitter temperatures.
“Holy shit, you’re like a fucking furnace.” You said.
“Yeah? You like it?”
“God yes.”
His hands began to wander down to the small of your back. You traced the outline of his pecs with your fingertips. He looked at you, eyes betraying an intense desire as he cupped your cheek, coming in close.
“Merry Christmas, Logan.” You whispered as his lips met yours.
Starting slow and soft, Logan’s kisses quickly turned more passionate, a distinct hunger to them. He moved his hands to your waist, pulling you onto his lap. You felt his hard cock press into you through his jeans. You rolled your hips against him, causing him to let out a growl. He lowered his head, kissing and gingerly biting your neck. You moaned as his teeth scraped against the soft skin.
His hands began to drift to the hem of your shirt, gathering the fabric in his fingers and slowly lifting it over your head. He unclasped your bra, sliding the straps off your arms and tossing its aside. You watched his eyes take in the curvature of your breasts.
“Good fuckin’ god, you’re perfect.” He whispered, cupping one of your breasts and circling the nipple with his thumb.
Logan’s hands fell to your hips, tugging down your jeans until they landed on the floor with your shirt. His fingers circled your clit over your panties, the thin barrier of fabric did little to keep you from turning into a whimpering mess.
“Goddam, I love those little noises.“
Logan dipped his head down to kiss your neck again, you moaned and began to grind yourself against him.
“Hmm, getting excited there, princess? Feels good, doesn’t it?”
“Uh-huh.” You whimpered.
“Yeah? Let me make it feel even better for you, babygirl.”
Logan hooked his thumbs in the waistband of your panties, sliding them off your legs. He slipped a hand between your thighs, dragging his fingers along the slit of your dripping pussy.
“So wet and worked up for me.”
Logan returned his fingers to your clit, you dug your nails into his shoulders, the feeling of direct stimulation was almost too overwhelming. It had been far too long since you were last touched like this, or even touched yourself. You weren’t going to last much longer.
“F- fuck, I’m- I’m so close.”
“There you go, that’s it. Cum for me, princess.”
Logan pulled you into a kiss with his free hand as you came undone on his fingers, the electric pulses of your orgasm surging through you.
“Oh god, Logan.” You moaned against his mouth.
Logan kissed you aggressively as your orgasm faded. He dropped his head to your breasts, peppering kisses to them as he spoke.
“God, you’re so hot when you cum. You need to see what you’re doing to me, babygirl.”
Logan’s hands moved to his belt, unbuckling it, he unzipped his jeans and freed his already throbbing cock from his boxers. Logan took your hand in his, guiding it to wrap around his shaft. You gathered beads of precum from his head, using it to lubricate the length of his cock as you stroked him.
“Fuuuck, your hand feels good, but I need that pussy. You wanna ride me, princess?”
You nodded.
“That’s my good girl.”
You shifted yourself to hover just above is cock, sinking down onto him, barely taking more than his head before wincing as you felt his massive girth stretch you wide.
“You alright?” Logan asked.
“Y- yeah, just been a while. Not used to one this big either.”
“Then take it slow, princess. Don’t rush it.”
You continued to lower yourself onto his cock, following his instructions to go slow. A small shudder escaped his lips.
“Fuckin’ Christ, you’re so tight.”
You reached the hilt of his shaft, feeling him throb inside you as you began to lift and drop your hips.
“Attagirl, just like that. Nice and easy.” Logan said, his hands moving to your waist, pulling you closer.
“Christ, living with you was starting to drive me crazy. I could barely take seeing you in the summer, your ass in those little shorts. You don’t know how many times I had to jerk off because of you.”
You blushed and whimpered at the thought of Logan getting so worked up over you.
“Hmm, you like that, babygirl? You like knowing you made this old man stroke his fat fuckin’ cock to you?” He grunted as he grabbed your hips, thrusting up into you.
You nodded.
“Use your words, princess.”
“Y- yes, sir.”
“Good girl.”
You moved yourself up and down on his cock, sliding him all the way out until only the head remained before taking his full length back deep inside you. Logan’s eyes wandered over every inch of body. His hand moved to one of your breasts.
“Fuck, I can’t get enough of these tits, and this ass.” He growled.
He raised his hand and brought it down sharply on your ass, eliciting a yelp.
“Sorry, princess, couldn’t help myself.”
“N- no it’s okay, I like it.”
“Oh? You like it rough, huh?”
“Y- yeah.”
“Well, guess I gotta fuck you senseless then.”
In one swift motion Logan grabbed you by the waist, picking you up and throwing you down onto the couch on your back with him on top of you. You barely had a second to adjust to the new position before he forced every inch of himself inside you. He pinned your wrists above your head as he fucked you with a punishing speed.
“How’s that feel? Am I rough enough for you, princess?”
“Y- yeah. F- feels so good.”
“Attagirl.”
Logan’s breathing hitched, his hips stuttering.
“Christ, that tight little pussy’s gonna make me fuckin’ cum. Where do you want it, babygirl?” Logan panted.
“In me, I need you to cum in me. Please.” You whined.
“Jesus, I know you’re not on the pill, but keep begging like that and I’ll have to knock you up.”
“Oh god, please. I don’t care if we’re unprotected. I need it, fucking breed me.” You pleaded.
Your words ignited something within him. He thrusted furiously into you at a blinding pace, his breathing becoming ragged and heavy. He leaned down and sank his teeth into your neck and gave a loud growl, slamming the full length of his cock inside you as he came hot, thick ropes deep in you.
Logan gave a last few thrusts, his breathing beginning to settle. He pressed his forehead to yours.
“Jesus Christ, princess, it’s been way too damn long since someone’s made me feel that good. I hope you know this is not a one time thing, you’re fuckin’ mine now.”
You laced your fingers in his salt and pepper hair, kissing him passionately. He pulled out and you moved to dress yourself, but were interrupted by him grabbing your waist.
“No princess, you’re staying with me.”
He picked you up and carried you to his room, setting you down on the bed. He laid next to you, pulling you to him with your head against his chest. Between the exhaustion of the day and the warmth radiating from Logan, you felt your eyelids grow heavy. He kissed the top of your head as you drifted off to sleep.
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annievrse · 1 month ago
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Break Through, Break Down / Act III
Trafalgar Law x Fem!Reader  Summary: When your captain, Luffy, tells you to run from Bartholomew Kuma on the Sabaody Archipelago instead of fighting, you end up on a submarine. Takes place post-time skip. W/C: 20k C/W: Fic structure: Sabaody Archipelago → Zou spoilers, canon timeline but majority canon-divergent events, she/her pronouns, no use of y/n. Content: anxiety, descriptions of injuries, blood, mentions of torture and violence, mentions of past trauma (Law), Doflamingo.
Labyrinth Series Masterlist
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— Scene 1 —
You need to get to Sabaody. 
You don’t know how because Law sure as hell isn’t going back to Paradise, not when everything is going to plan. But it must be done; you must be at Sabaody Archipelago in a month. Everything you’ve done to get stronger has been to meet your family back on Sabaody. 
You feel like you’ve betrayed the Straw Hats by going to the New World before them. That was the plan after all, but you got so caught up with the Heart Pirates and helping Law that the thought of meeting Luffy at Sabaody had slipped your mind. You scolded yourself every day for it. 
Law achieved Warlord status, and as you watch him say farewell to Bepo, Penguin, Shachi, and the rest of the crew, you mull over how much you’ve fucked up the original plan. 
It’s been a year and a half since Law presented the ninety-eight pirate hearts he collected on Hachinosu and the two single hearts, one from Seamus Wells and the other from the noble on the passenger ship before the Navy Headquarters. He wore his usual smirk and callous facade while the rest of you stood on the deck of the Polar Tang with guns pointed at you from every angle. From what you remember, the Marines looked mortified, some sick, and others confused—you were used to it at that point, wearing a bored expression while Law went inside the complex to talk with someone higher up. Your anxiety that day spread like wildfire through your body, but you knew he’d get what he wanted. 
Now, you stand before the Polar Tang on an island overrun with snow and ice on one side and fire and lava on the other. You wrap your arms around yourself, the thick jacket you wear doing nothing against the frigid wind of Punk Hazard. Law stands beside you with his jacket zipped up to his chin, his katana resting on his shoulder. 
“Be careful!” Bepo yells, his paws covering his mouth to project his voice. 
“We’ll be fine,” Law calls. “Don’t do anything stupid.”
Penguin laughs before coughing, the winter air tightening his chest. “When are we ever stupid?” 
“Bye!” Ikkaku yells, waving at you. 
You smile and wave back. “Be safe!”
You have grown closer to Ikkaku during your time on the Polar Tang. She no longer regards you with disdain and is grateful for another woman on the sub. It’s refreshing to have a female friendship again—and the thought makes the taste of Sabaody bitter in your mouth. 
Law clicks his tongue and turns, making his way toward the giant laboratory in the mountains. You stand there, watching the Heart Pirates shut the door and descend back into the sea, embarking on their journey to Zou. You sigh deeply and pull the beanie further over your ears. 
“C’mon!” 
You turn, your gaze remaining on when the submarine submerged. Though they aren’t going in the direction you need to go, and somewhere deep in your soul, you wish you could persuade them to go back over Reverse Mountain to Sabaody. 
Law calls your name, and you look toward him. His hand is outreached, and you rush over to him as quickly as possible in this weather and take it. You shake your head to rid your mind of the impossible. 
“This guy knows we’re coming, right?” 
He clears his throat. “He knows I’m coming.” 
“So we’re not going to get attacked?” 
“Shouldn’t.” 
You roll your lips between your teeth and huddle closer to Law. Glancing up at him, the red tint to his cheeks is mainly from the icy wind, but you know it’s also because you’re holding his hand. You refrain from giggling, knowing he’d only scold you for such trivial things, but he knows you too well.
“You better not be laughing at me.” 
You snort. “Never, my love.” 
Law rolls his eyes and says nothing, though he squeezes your gloved hand tighter. 
“While we’re here, I need you to do something for me.” 
You nod with owlish eyes. “Of course.” 
“There’s no doubt in my mind that Caesar Clown has this place on lockdown, with cameras and shit… So we need to do this here,” He pauses, looking toward the mountain. “I need you to keep my heart safe.” 
Furrowing your eyebrows, you stop, the snow squeaking under your feet. “Why?”
Law senses your worried tone and faces you. “I’m going to give my ‘heart’ to them to prove my loyalty.” 
“Your ‘heart’?” 
“I have an extra heart from Hachinosu,” Law says. “You’re going to keep mine safe while I hand over this one.” 
You purse your lips, your own heart racing. “Okay. Right now?” 
“Right now,” He urges, lifting his hand to his chest. “I should’ve done it on the sub, but I got sidetracked…” 
You feel your cheeks warm at the connotation. “Yeah, well…” 
Law uses Scalpel, and a blue cube slides from his chest. “Keep it safe for me, sweetheart.” 
You open the flap of the bag you carry on your back and wrap it in a scarf crafted with Sew. “I have been for two years, haven’t I?” 
He snorts and digs around inside his coat for the pirate’s heart. Law inhales sharply before inserting it into the empty slot, his face scrunching in agony. You place your hand on his. 
“Careful,” You whisper, your gaze running over his face as his expression evens out. 
“I’m good.”
You hum, swinging the backpack over your shoulder. The wind whistles through the barren land, and the laboratory looks further away than it did a second ago. “If you could Shamble us up there right now, I’d be eternally grateful.” 
Law gives a sidelong glance but flicks his fingers up anyway. “You’re annoying.” 
“I love you,” You tease, leaning up and kissing his freezing cheek. 
His gaze softens, and then you’re stumbling. 
Before you can complain to him, Law is at the giant door, knocking. You don’t think anyone will answer until it slides open and a cloud of gas emerges. 
“Ceasar.”
“Trafalgar Law,” The gas speaks before materialising into a figure. A ten-foot man with horns in a yellow stripy jumpsuit and a purple cape towers over you, and you let out a squeak of surprise. “Who’s this?”
“My assistant.” 
Caesar huffs and looks you up and down. “Ugh, fine! Come with me. We have business to discuss before I let you roam around here… unsupervised.” 
You glance at Law, who looks straight ahead and follows the gas man inside. There’s a bad feeling swirling in your stomach, but you pay it no mind. 
— Scene 2 —
The inside of the laboratory is unsettling, almost as much as the looming presence of Caesar as he watches over you. Law is elsewhere, performing his part of the contract, healing Caesar’s underlings while you stay in this room. You make no sudden movements and keep your breathing steady. 
“So, what do you do out here? On Punk Hazard?” 
Caesar narrows his eyes. “Experiments.” 
You nod, knowing you weren’t getting more of an answer than that. “Cool.” 
The scientist makes no sound, and you chew on your bottom lip. 
“I could’ve sworn I’ve seen your face in the newspaper. Who are you again?”
You glance at Caesar, surprised he asked you a question but nervous about the former statement. “Law’s assistant.” 
“Huh,” Caesar mused. “Maybe I’m thinking of the wrong person…” 
Your stomach flips, and before you comprehend the situation, Caesar has you hanging in the air by your throat. 
“A Straw Hat,” He growls, his gas tightening around your neck. “Trafalgar Law brought a pirate into my laboratory.” 
You struggle to breathe and claw at the invisible hand. “No, it’s not like that, please.” 
“Law and I signed a contract,” Caesar says. “I don’t remember seeing your name in there.” 
“I’m just here to learn,” You squeeze your eyes closed and squeak out the syllables. 
“Learn about what?”
“Caesar.” 
The scientist freezes, his gas turning icy against your skin. “Law…”
“Put her down. I won’t ask again.” 
You feel your feet hit the floor, and then you crumble. You inhale sharply, the oxygen burning your lungs as you gulp it down hungrily. Coughing, you rub at your chest. “Asshole.” 
“Why did you bring a pirate here?” 
Law huffs harshly, glancing at you to see if you’re okay. When you are, he cocks his head at Caesar. “She’s my assistant. If you have a problem with that, I’ll happily turn your underlings back as they were.” 
Caesar giggles nervously. “No problems. None at all. Have you finished with them?” 
“Yes.” 
And then Caesar flies from the room. Law rushes over to you and helps you stand, cursing under his breath.
“I shouldn’t have left him alone with you.” 
You smile weakly, resting your palm on his cheek. “I’m fine.” 
“You’re not,” He sits you down on the couch. “Fuck.” 
He inspects your neck; his fingers light on your skin as he traces the blooming bruises, leaving goosebumps in his wake. 
“What do we do now?” You ask, deflecting his attention. Law’s gaze remains on your neck.
“We lay low, try not to draw attention to ourselves while we’re here. I need to gain their trust.” 
— Scene 3 —
It's been a month since you and Law arrived at Punk Hazard, and it’s been nothing short of boring. But Sabaody never left your mind. The date of the meeting came and went, and you felt guilt deep in your stomach, the feeling making you sick. There’s nothing you could have said or done, though you know Law wanted you to be there—he’d apologised every day, but it just wasn’t possible. 
Most days are the same: wake up, eat a meal of potato, rice, and curry, walk around the facility, eat another serving of potato, rice, and curry, and go to sleep. It’s mundane, but Law ensures there is a means to the end—find the SAD production room. It’s why you’re required to wander around the facility all day to inspect the thousands of rooms and decipher which is the one to destroy. 
You’ve had no luck so far; there are men in yellow suits in every direction who forbid you from going certain ways, but you aren’t stupid— you know the hallways lead to where you need to go. You just don’t know how to go about it. Sure, you could use Seam, and your mind and ability have strengthened substantially since Hachinosu. Still, there’s an unknown number of people in the facility, and anything above 300 souls would send you comatose. The limitation frustrates you. 
Caesar and his underling, Monet, project clear disdain toward you, but it’s nothing you can’t handle. The winged woman is eerie, always watching you, like she knows you’re being untruthful about your intentions. There are moments when you’re walking the corridors, and there are screams, child-like wails of terror and anguish that have your hair standing on end. You choose not to ask Caesar or Monet about it; that would be foolish. Law says he’s heard it too but doesn’t know where it’s coming from—the cries echo like they’re everywhere, with no one place to pinpoint them to. It’s unsettling. 
“Located.” 
Law whispers it as he passes by you breezily. You gulp and suppress your relieved smile; the word brings you hope. 
You know Caesar’s hazmat crew hovers over you, the surveillance snails monitoring your every movement, but you neglect to care when you’ve just heard that you’ll soon be leaving. You don’t dare glance back at Law as he walks down the hallway you just came from and clench your fists tight to avoid doing so. 
A faraway scream draws you from your daze, and when it continues, you look back at Law. He’s at the end of the hall, stopped with his head tilted. You take a step, but a loud, echoing thump startles you. 
“Navy’s here,” Law calls, and then he takes off down the hall toward Building A. You sigh, perplexed as to how he could know that. “C’mon.” 
Your heart races as you do, the winter boots you wear barely gripping the slick vinyl floors. As you catch up to Law, you notice he’s taken on a leisurely stroll. 
“How do you know the Navy’s here?” You raise an eyebrow. Law huffs a laugh and adjusts his katana on his shoulder. 
“I heard chaos outside; looked in the surveillance room.” 
Your jaw drops. “How’d you get in there?” 
Law doesn’t respond since he knows you know the answer anyway. You give him a sidelong glance. 
“I’ve been trying to get in there for weeks…” You mumble, pouting. “And all I had to do was ask you.” 
Law shrugs and takes the left hallway at the fork. 
“Why are the Navy here anyway?” 
“I don’t know,” Law says, voice low. “But I don’t like it.” 
The knock is incessant, and it gets louder with each passing second. 
When you get to the door, Law huffs with irritation. He presses a red button, and the thick sheet of metal slides open a few feet. 
“Trafalgar Law.” 
You decide to hang back, not wanting to alert the Marines of your presence… besides, Law is a Warlord, and you’re not. 
You recognise the Navy Vice Admiral when he speaks, his deep timbre annoyed. “Trafalgar Law.”
Law scoffs lightly. “What brings you to my vacation home?” 
You close your eyes at his quip, his body leaning carelessly against the wall. The wind whistles harshly, and the icy air nips at your ears. It’s the only sound for a minute, the Navy seemingly shocked at Law’s presence. 
“Trafalgar! We understand you’re a Warlord, but we need to get past. Step aside!” The voice is familiar, and you comb through your memories to figure out who it belongs to. You faintly recall a woman with a sword, someone who Zoro complained about. “We already know you’re not the only one on this island.” 
You bite your tongue. There’s no way she could know you’re here. Law narrows his eyes. 
“What are you talking about?” 
Tashigi, you remember. That’s her name. When she doesn’t answer, you dare a peek at her. She holds a Baby Transponder Snail in her hand, the gastropod warbling as it gains a signal. 
“Hello?—”
Your heart stops.
“My name is Monkey D. Luffy!”
You can’t move, the icy wind blowing through the crack in the door almost tipping you over. There’s no way. You touch Law’s back, begging to look at the snail closer. 
But you physically deflate when the call goes on and realise it’s a recording. 
“He said cold and named the island,” Tashigi’s voice cuts off your daze. “Given those facts, it's almost undeniable that the signal was sent from here.” 
Law remains silent. 
“And you’ve met Straw Hat before, haven’t you?” Smoker asks, folding his arms over his chest. “You helped him escape from Marineford.” 
You gulp and back away. If they knew you were here…
“Alright then, what now?” Law sighs. “I know you Marines are good at faking those distress signals.” 
Smoker raises an eyebrow, his cigar bobbing between his lips. “If you’re insinuating that this is a trap we set, you’re wrong.”
“Is that so?” Law scoffs. “Well, I haven’t got any information for you.” 
“You and I both know that’s bullshit,” Smoker growls. “Now, let us inside that lab.” 
“It’s my vacation home, that’s all. Beat it,” Law says, his tone growing agitated. “The Navy abandoned this place, so why does it matter if I’m here? I see nobody else around.” 
You’re on the verge of sprinting. The mention of Luffy and hearing his voice through the Snail has made you feel sick. You betrayed them, and now they’re here? You don’t think you can face them.
“And if Straw Hat does come knocking, I’ll behead him for you. Now, get lost.” 
You almost stumble and glare at the back of Law’s head—empty threats. 
Smoker and Tashigi say nothing, but they aren’t leaving. You raise your hand, ready to send their souls to Seam, when there’s a rumble behind you. 
“Wha—” A collection of footsteps clamber down the stairs, and you furrow your brows, your heart clenching with fear. What is that?
Law looks at you, his eyes widening as he spots something you can’t. You slowly turn, ignoring the chatter of confusion outside, and your jaw opens in both horror and shock. 
There are children—tens of them, running toward you, all dressed in the same white gown. But what puzzles you more is that some of them are 4 times your height. 
“What the…” Law muses, his voice trailing off. Your chest heaves like your lungs are trying to increase the oxygen to your brain because… what are you looking at?
The voices that scream behind them cause a chill down your spine. “We gotta get outta here!” 
“Look! There’s a door!” 
It can’t be. You blink,  tears pooling in your eyes. 
Law’s brows tug together as he tries to figure out what the hell is going on. 
Before your eyes, a large raccoon dog throws itself past you, kicking the door wider. You recognise the hat instantly and feel your knees buckle. More people rush past, and you’re disoriented by the chaos around you. 
“Woah! It’s freezing out here…” 
“Nami…” You whisper with confusion. “Nami!” 
You turn around to face the door, your hands clasped together on your chest. You hope you’re not mistaken.
Your name falls from her lips, and it's like the world is rewarding you for sticking it out and for surviving this long. She gasps, her familiar red hair a blur as she wraps her arms around you. 
“Nami,” You cry, pulling her tighter against you. 
“We thought—”
“I know,” Pulling your face back to explain yourself, Nami brushes stray hairs away from your eyes. “I’m so sorry I couldn’t get to Sabaody. I was already here, and—”
“Don’t apologise,” Nami exclaims, tears sliding down her cheeks. “I’m so happy to see you.” 
You frown, searching her eyes for any hint of a lie—you’re sure they’re upset and angry with you for not coming back when everyone else made the effort. But she’s genuine; she’s not mad. 
Law stands awkwardly in the doorway, staring down Smoker as he grapples with the shock of seeing so many children burst from the laboratory. And as confused and irritated Law is at Caesar for keeping these kids hostage, he can’t think about that when the Navy stands before him, ready to attack. Especially when you’re here, behind him, reuniting with your crew. 
“Hey, hey, hey, Franky the Tank!” 
A stunned laugh forces its way out of your chest, and you turn. Franky is coming toward you in a form you haven’t seen, with two children and Sanji behind him. They don’t seem to notice you and Nami yet, only the hoard of kids they saved. 
“It’s the Straw Hats…” You hear Tashigi call outside. Fear clings to you, and you shove Nami toward Franky and Sanji. 
“Go!” You yell. Sanji’s ears seem to perk up at the sound of your voice, and when he mumbles your name, he’s jumping off Franky and running. 
Law grunts but is focused on the Marines. Sanji yells your name again, a broad grin on his mouth. 
“My sweet!” He brings you into a hug. “I thought I would never see you again, my love. Are you okay?” 
You leer and nod, your cheeks hurting when Chopper and Franky realise it’s you, too. 
“I’m so sorry,” You repeat, taking advantage of the Navy’s shock to talk to your friends for a bit longer.
“Luffy told us everything,” Sanji reassures. “We’re not mad at you. We could never be.” 
You purse your lips in an attempt to stop crying. 
“A severed head?” A yell echoes through the wind, and you look at Franky, who holds one. 
You’re at a loss for words, and you don’t think your heart can take this right now. Rationality takes over your emotions, and panic arises inside you. “You have to go! The Navy’s here!”
“The Navy?” Nami asks. The children are circled around Franky, who tries his best to distract them from the impending danger around them, face wet with tears from seeing you. 
“I’ll catch up,” You say, sniffling. “Go!” 
Chopper squeaks as he cries. “I missed you.” 
Nami, after wiping her cheeks, grabs Chopper and Sanji’s wrists. “She’s right. We should go.” 
You inhale sharply, watching as your friends try and quickly maneuver the kids down the hallway you pointed to. 
“Hey, wait,” Nami squints in Law's direction. “We know him.”
Chopper gasps. “Yeah, we saw him in Sabaody. What’s his name again?” 
Then Nami’s expression turns into one of betrayal. “You didn’t kidnap these kids, did you?” 
You shake your head, upset she’d even think of Law like that. But, then again, the only person who knows him is you. 
“No!” You plead. “This is the first we’ve seen of them.” 
Sanji makes a surprised sound that turns into a growl. “What’s he doing here?”
Everyone’s attention turns to the Vice Admiral, who has moved back onto the snow. 
“Smoker!” Sanji points at him. “And Tashigi! Looking good…”
Law rolls his eyes. “Are you gonna leave before they attack, or not?” 
“We should go,” Chopper whines, tugging Nami’s arm. You look between your crew and the Navy, the tension in the air growing tenfold. 
“Quick!” Sanji shouts. “We can’t get out this way. Go down that hallway!” 
The children start screaming while they run, following the direction Sanji pointed. Nami gives you one last smile before trailing after them, and soon, it’s just you and Law. 
Law takes the stairs down the ice, and the Navy backs up as he does so. You follow close behind. 
Your name falls from Smoker’s lips as a snarl. It seems he’s just noticed you. “You’ve caused us a lotta trouble…” 
Law guards your body with his own. 
“So there are others here!” Tashigi exclaims. 
Law shrugs. “Guess so. It’s a shock for me, too.” 
Without replying, Tashigi draws her sword. “Marines! Track down the Straw Hats!” 
Behind her, there’s a collective yell, the men inching closer. You peek around Law’s bicep, watching them. 
“Wait,” Smoker says sternly. “Back down.” 
But, before you or the Navy can comprehend the situation, Law sticks out his hand. “Room.” 
You gape as a phantom wind pushes the Navy back, the blue dome hardly visible through the thick cloud. “Law…”
He doesn’t hear you. “And Takt.” 
Ice cracks beyond the cloud, and you step beside him. “So, we’re doing this?” 
Law sighs. “They won’t leave…” 
Smoker and Tashigi look behind them, both frozen in place. There’s a large dark silhouette looming over the Marines. You tilt your head in wonder when you realise it’s their battleship. 
“Shit,” You murmur, glancing up at Law to see his eyes closed. “Careful…”
Law swallows, acknowledging your warning. 
“I lied to you for your own good,” He calls to Smoker. “You should’ve listened. And now that you’ve seen the truth… I can’t let you leave.” 
The chatter of the Marines is almost deafening, and you wince. 
“Stay behind me,” Smoker growls to his subordinates. He draws the staff from his back and points it at Law. You narrow your eyes. How dare he wield that at him. 
Beside you, Law reaches for his katana, pulling it from the scabbard. He smirks, his katana blade reflecting the glare of the snow. 
It could be so easy for you to just send Smoker’s soul to Seam, to watch his body go limp, to defeat him. But, since he has a Logia-type Devil Fruit, it’s dangerous for you to do so. 
“Don’t get too close to him,” Law mumbles. “He touches you with that stick of his, and it’s over.” 
“I know,” You sigh, matching Tashigi’s stance. “You, too.” 
The battleship is suspended in the air above you, the hull of the ship to the sky. The ground shakes under your feet. Law changes his position, lowering his arm. 
The Marines behind Smoker and Tashigi yell out, but you pay them no mind. 
“That was the Samurai,” Law mutters. You furrow your eyebrows and look up at him. 
“Who?” 
“The severed head.” 
“Oh,” You frown, regretting not paying closer attention. 
Law’s free hand moves up again; this time, the debris from the battleship flies around, narrowly missing the Marines. 
“Give the ship back,” Smoker deadpans. 
Law smirks. “Eh, fine. But let me make one adjustment.” 
Your lips form a straight line. “Stop playing with them.” 
“Yes, ma’am.” And then he swings his katana upwards, the blade cutting the air. There’s a collective gasp, and then the ship splits into two, and the sound of wood cracking is deafening. 
The two halves of the ship lower slowly, Law moving his finger down slightly to prompt the movement. He stares straight ahead, watching the Marines panic. You watch in awe as a giant iceberg levitates behind it, and Law quickly slashes his sword multiple times to cut the ice. 
The chunks, plus the ship halves and the debris, start falling into the ground, sending the area into more chaos, the screams and shouts echoing far past the laboratory. 
The inside of Room is a mess, like a snow globe just shaken. 
“Let’s go, Admiral!” A voice bounces off the ice.
Law scoffs. “I don’t think so…”
You do nothing but admire the control Law has over the tonnes of wood and ice as they join together like magnets. It reminds you of a game you used to play as a child. 
“Hey! You work for the government too, Bud!” 
“Wait until we tell HQ that you attacked us!”
Law’s tongue pokes the inside of his cheek, a wry laugh leaving his throat. He flips the katana in his hand, pointing the blade to the ground. “Scan.” 
He drags the blade perpendicular to the ground before propping it back up on his shoulder and closing his outstretched fist. You know the play; he’s done it hundreds of times before. 
A collective thud sounds behind you, and you don’t have to turn to know it’s the Marines’ Baby Transponder Snails. 
There’s a crazed look in Law’s eye that excites you. 
“Warlord or not, you’ve gone too far,” Smoker says, his body turning to smoke around him. And then he takes off, speeding toward Law. Your gasp is smothered by the innate response to protect Law, your body throwing itself before him. 
Law says nothing, knowing you hate when he intervenes. 
“Needles.” 
A large one materialises in your hand, and before Smoker reaches you, you swing it. Law jumps back, his katana out. He presses his back to yours, slashing the smoke that swirls around him. You work in tandem, cutting and slicing the air. You see Smoker’s top half in the sky, speaking to the Marines. It’s your cue to elbow Law. 
He faces them and swings the katana, cutting all of the Marines in half. They all scream, but you don’t take your eyes off of Smoker. He lands in front of you.
“Trafalgar Law!” Tashigi yells, sprinting at him. 
Smoker stands to his full height before you, noticing Tashigi. “Stop! You can’t win!”
She doesn’t let up, positioning her sword beside her head. Tashigi jumps, her blade over her head, and she comes down on Law. 
You take the opportunity to send the Marine’s souls to Seam, and the influx makes you lightheaded. They all slump, the halves of their bodies laying limply on the ice, and you’re grateful for the silence. 
Swords clang, and you turn to see two halves of Tashigi’s sword fly through the air. They have yet to notice their Marines are unresponsive. 
Smoker falters when he sees Tashigi’s torso slip off her hips, her legs remaining stuck in the ice. 
The wind is the only sound; it blows harshly against your face and sneaks its way through your thick coat, chilling you to the bone. You see Law standing there through blurred vision, your eyes watering at the sting of the cold. 
“Why won’t you finish me? Trafalgar!” 
Law clicks his tongue. “Weaklings like you don’t get to decide where you die.” 
The needle in your hand drops to the ground, and then Smoker staggers over to Tashigi, his voice tight and cautious. With the Marines quiet, there’s nothing to be worried about. 
Law stalks toward you, his hat-shrouded gaze darkening when he sees you shivering. Immediately, the wind stops. You inhale as he stands before you. 
“You could’ve done that before,” You say, noticing the wind blowing harder outside the small bubble around you. 
Law shrugs. “We need to get inside and figure out what the hell is going on.” 
You nod, swallowing thickly. “How are they here?” 
“I don't know,” Law whispers, knowing you’re talking about the children. “But I’m gonna kick Caesar’s ass.” 
“Law!” 
The Warlord sighs with something akin to defeat and turns. “What?” 
A cloud of smoke is heading straight for you, but Law quickly slashes it with his katana. 
“You may be a Warlord, but you’re still just a pirate,” Smoker grunts as he dodges Law’s attack. “Just like her.” 
Another needle forms in your grasp, and you jump to the side to avoid Smoker’s staff, the end dangerously close to your shoulder. “Shit.” 
The smoke cloud rises above you. Law is quick to swipe, but Smoker’s quicker. The katana clangs against the metal staff with a sharp zing; Law focuses on keeping the end of the staff away from you. 
Smoker’s hand wielding the staff stays the same, and you don’t realise the rest of his body turning to smoke. He rounds Law, and his other hand tightens around Law’s neck. 
You gasp, stabbing your needle into the space where Smoker’s body should be. 
The Admiral materialises and uses his strength to slam Law’s head into the ice. Law grunts and you aren’t quick enough to react to how fast Smoker raises his staff and slams it into Law’s face.
The impact is loud, but where you expect blood and flesh, there’s only green wood. 
“Sea-prism stone, huh?” 
You spin, seeing Law with his katana ready. Smoker meets him halfway, the metal connecting again. Instead of staying there, the katana keeps going, the momentum too fast to slow, and the mountain of icebergs and battleship Law created before slices in half. 
The Marines below are still in Seam, and you freeze at the realisation—they’re going to get crushed. 
You’re torn but ultimately choose to return their souls to their bodies. The cacophony of noise starts again, and the men flee with terror, confused about where they are. 
They run out of Room, having figured out how to stay safe from Law. A lone Marine runs for Tashigi and picks her up, taking her with him. 
Behind you, Law and Smoker keep fighting. Grunts and snarls combine with the ringing of metal on metal to create a symphony of a duel. 
You watch the Marines leave, doing nothing to stop them—your objective now is to find out why there were children inside the laboratory and how you didn’t know after being here for a month. Where was Caesar hiding them? And for what reason? It sickens you. 
Debris flies in Room; Law’s ability is perfectly altered, so nothing hits you. A harsh call of your name causes you to spin. 
Law stands behind a jagged piece of rock, Smoker’s body leaning over it—the wild look in his eye returning. 
“Scalpel.” 
You run, feet slipping in the snow. With your hands outstretched, threads weave quickly to catch the heart that flies out of Smoker’s back. The Vice Admiral heaves, his body stuck in slow motion as he realises what happened. You know the look all too well. 
You flick your finger to send his heart to Law, who catches it. Smoker falls to his knees, his cigars falling from between his teeth and extinguishing. 
“You can beg,” Law snarls. “But I don’t have to tell you a damn thing.” 
You wince when you round the rock as Smoker grunts and falls face-first into the snow. 
“C’mon.” 
You trail behind Law before catching up to him. He holds Smoker’s heart in his palm. 
“We need to find Caesar,” You say, watching him shove the heart inside his coat. “Creepy bastard.” 
Law’s jaw is set. “I’m gonna kill him.” 
You click your tongue. “You told me I wasn’t allowed to, so you can’t. Not until the plan is done. We need him.” 
“I—”
“Hey! Hello!” 
Your mouth opens slightly. “No…”
“Whatcha doin’ out here?” 
A smile breaks across your face, and you stop. Law keeps walking, only pausing because you do. “Luffy!” 
Law’s eyes widen. “Straw Hat.” 
You laugh; it’s wild and full of joy. “Luffy!”
Your Captain cackles and screams your name. “Hey!”
There’s a collective gasp, and then several heads peek out behind Brownbeard’s back: Robin, Zoro, Usopp, Brook.
You cover your mouth with your hand, the emotions you’ve kept suppressed finally exploding when they all jump down and rush you. 
Robin is the first to slam into you, her arms tight around your shoulders. “Look at you.” 
Tears stream down your cheeks, your cheeks hurting. 
“Hey, it’s my turn,” Zoro grumbles, waving Robin away before his arm circles your neck and pulls you into his shoulder. 
“Yo ho ho ho!” Brook laughs. “Isn’t it nice to see you…” 
Usopp runs into the back of Zoro, his hands clutching the sleeves of your jacket. “You’re here!” 
“I missed you guys,” You laugh. 
“We missed you!” Robin says, giggling behind her hand. 
“Get off her,” Luffy yells. “My turn!” 
Usopp and Zoro are yanked from your body, and you have half a mind to prepare for the impact of Luffy pulling you toward him with his rubber arms. 
“I’m so happy you’re okay!” Luffy exclaims, wrapping his arms around you ten times. 
You choke out a sob. “I’m happy you guys are okay. I’m so sorry I couldn’t meet you at Sabaody.” 
“Don’t worry about it!” Usopp says. “The only thing you missed on Fishman Island was Sanji bleeding out every 10 seconds.” 
You shake your head with disbelief. “Why am I not surprised?”
You all laugh together before you notice the extra legs hanging off Luffy’s lower back. Your mouth opens to ask about it, but Zoro cuts you off. 
“Don’t ask. It’s a long story.” 
You nod and point back at Law. “That’s Law.”
“I know you,” Zoro eyes him suspiciously. “You were at Sabaody.” 
Law doesn’t acknowledge it; his attention is solely on you. He won’t admit it, but his chest is full of warmth—your smile never fails to make him feel this way. 
“Thanks for helping me back at Marineford,” Luffy says, stopping his stride in front of Law. 
Law’s annoyed that Luffy pulled his focus away from you. “Don’t mention it.”
“Nami, Franky, Sanji, and Chopper were here before,” You say. “Did you get separated?” 
Robin furrows her eyebrows. “Here? They’re meant to be on the Sunny.” 
“Idiots…”
“Of course, they are…”
“They’re here?” 
“Hey, over there,” Usopp yells, his arm straight out. You turn, your attention diverted. “There’s a Marine on the ground.” 
You look to where Usopp points. “That’s Smokey.” 
Luffy’s ears perk up. “Smokey?” 
You gasp when you see Tashigi running straight for Law, tears on her face. “Damn you!”
The Marines follow close behind her, their expressions twisted with anger. 
“Really?” Law sighs. “Room.” 
He takes his katana and jabs the air several times, but it’s enough. “Shambles.”
Tashigi stumbles, gripping her chest. The Vice Admiral and his Captain stay down, their bodies limp in the snow. 
“Are they dead?” Zoro asks, his voice low. You shake your head. 
“Luffy, we gotta go!” Usopp screams. “Marines, incoming!” 
“Wait,” Your captain says, glancing at Law. “Traffy—”
“Head to the back of the lab. You’ll see what you’re looking for.”
Luffy nods and makes a sound of confirmation that he understands, and then he looks at you. “You coming with?” 
Your eyes widen, your throat growing tight. “What?”
“Are you coming with us?”
Your crew is silent, the yells of the Marines inching closer with every second. “I–uh, I—”
“Never mind!” Usopp cuts you off; his voice is full of panic. Brownbeard has already taken off with him and the others, leaving you and Luffy alone. “Luffy! Hurry up!” 
“I’ll see you soon,” Luffy says, a smile on his face. 
You don’t return it and nod. “Okay.” 
Law stands in the doorway, eyes tracking Luffy as he enters the fog. You make it up the steps with a frown, noticing the heart in Law’s grip. Smoker’s heart. 
“C’mon,” Law turns, closing the door when you’re safely inside. “You okay?” 
“I think so,” You wipe your forehead with the back of your hand. Law knows not to push further, to let you digest your emotions before he asks again. He gives you a sidelong glance when you fall into step beside him, concern swimming in his gaze. 
“What now?” You ask, pulling the ends of the fingers of your gloves. You peel them off and shove them into your pocket. 
“I need to speak to Caesar.” 
— Scene 4 —
“What have you done now, Law?” Caesar snaps. You hover behind Law, eyes darting around the room. 
“Nothing,” Law says nonchalantly. “I took care of it.” 
“Why was the Navy here in the first place?” The scientist asks, eyeing Law suspiciously. 
He shrugs, resting his ankle on his knee as he leans back on the couch. “Distress call, apparently.” 
Caesar’s gaze moves to you. “Are you distressed?” 
Law scoffs, clicking his fingers to divert the scientist’s attention from you to him. “Not from her. But perhaps from one of the tens of children you’ve been keeping here…”
Monet makes a sound from the corner, her wings unfurling slightly. “Watch it.”
Caesar’s eyes widen. “You didn’t tell the Navy, did you?” 
“They saw for themselves.”
“Argh! Get out,” Caesar growls. “I need to figure this out.” 
The door clicks behind you, and you bring the Earpiece Transponder Snail to your ear and adjust it. 
“I should’ve known you’d do this.” 
You wink at Law and press the top of the Snail. A crackling sound comes through the receiver. You planted a Black Transponder Snail under the couch Law was sitting on. 
The call is outgoing, and you concentrate on the voices. One is Caesar, the other, you’ve never heard. It’s deep and jesty, the tone getting harsher with every request Caesar makes. 
The call ends, and you relay it to Law when you walk down the hallway. A room moves with you, Law effectively removing all sound within the dome from the outside. It’s helped you more times than you can count. 
“He says, ‘I can kill them all. The Straw Hats, the G-5 crew, and Firefox Kin’emon. Joker will ensure the losses are officially listed as sea accidents.” 
“Joker, huh?” 
Your eyebrows tug together. “Who is that?” 
“Doflamingo.” 
Men in yellow suits run past you, and you guess they’re on their way to find your crew and the children. 
“What?” Your voice is close to a growl, stopping abruptly. “That’s who I heard… he sounds insane.” 
The voice on the Transponder Snail was bone-chilling. 
Law doesn’t look at you. “You know he is.” 
When Law told you of his childhood a year ago, within the safety of his Room, you didn’t realise just how evil Donquixote Doflamingo was. Law cut open his chest and bared himself to you, his voice raw and eyes glassy. He told you how he met Bepo, Penguin, and Shachi and found his crew. It ended with you in tears and Law’s head in your neck, your fingers working out the tiny tangles in his hair. As he calmed down, you spoke of your childhood—the girl stuck in Seam, your parents, Luffy saving your island, and you joining his crew. The night was a dark one, one you don’t wish to recall that often, but it was vulnerable, your souls intertwining with no way of undoing them. You’ve been attached at the hip since, challenging Bepo’s position as Law’s favourite—he would never tell Bepo, but it’s you. 
“What do we do?” 
“Continue with the plan.”
— Scene 5 —
Continuing with the plan went as you expected. Badly.
The sea prism chains around your body make you dizzy. They rub against your skin, leaving it raw. You curse whoever discovered the stone was harmful to Devil Fruit users. 
Someone is talking, but you can’t hear them, your head too full of cotton to comprehend anything. You know Law lies beside you, and Luffy is on the other side of him. Robin and Franky are to your left, and Smoker and Tashigi sit opposite them. The cell is small, from what you saw when your eyes opened for a moment before you fell back into the abyss. 
With closed eyes, you groan, trying to shift your hip into a different position—being like this is severely uncomfortable. 
“You shouldn’t put your trust in others, Law,” Caesar taunts, and your eyes fly open. It doesn’t make sense he would say that unprovoked unless—
“No,” You gasp, wriggling on the spot, pushing your arms out to try and break the chains. “No! Please!” 
Law turns to you quickly, seeing your panic-stricken expression. His eyes scan your body for any sign of injury, his heart racing at the possibility of you being hurt.
“I see your little assistant has figured it out, shurororo,” Caesar laughs. “If you’re worried about your heart, Vergo’s taking good care of it.” 
Vergo. The name races through your mind; where had you heard that before? 
The man stands behind the scientists on the other side of the wire, his grip around a blue cube holding a heart with an erratic heartbeat. But it can’t be. It should be the heart of the pirate Law stole it from, not his actual heart. 
But your disbelief is punctured when Law screams out in agony, his body writhing. 
“I’m sorry,” You cry, watching Law squeeze his eyes shut. “Please, stop.”
“I know you’re a rather shrewd man, but you never thought to worry about my secretary,” Caesar says, and you can’t bear to look. 
It’s all your fault. “I’m sorry.”
He moans, his body slowly lengthening back to normal. 
“It’s okay,” Law exhales, voice gravelly. “It’s not your fault.”
“Are you okay, Traffy?”
“What’s not her fault?” Robin pipes up, her head tilted. 
You don’t look at her; you focus solely on the man beside you. It's a silent conversation through your eyes, with a painful frown on your face. 
Law glares at you through his lashes; the guilt of giving you the responsibility of his heart in the first place eats at him. “It’s not your fault. I asked you to.”
For someone wrapped in sea prism stone and having his heart in the enemy’s grip, Law is oddly energetic. You eye him suspiciously; indeed, if he did have a plan, he’d have told you… 
You shake your head, not hearing him. 
“Enough domestics,” If looks could kill, Caesar’d be dead. “I thought I’d found a friend in you, Law. I’m disappointed.” 
The captain pauses the heaving of his chest, a smirk gracing his mouth. “So, it was all her, huh? Fine, I can admit that I wasn’t wary of her. That one’s on me. I just didn’t expect someone so smart to work for such a dumbass.” 
Caesar grunts, his fist swinging toward Law’s heart again. 
You shake your head, the adrenaline in your veins heightening as law keens over in pain again. 
“You’re amazing, Traffy,” Luffy says mindlessly. “He has your heart, but you’re still alive. Cool!” 
Smoker scoffs from the corner. “Pathetic… what’d you do with mine?”
Caesar breaks your staring contest with the Admiral, giggling as he raises another blue cube. “You mean this? Shurororo.” 
Smoker makes a disgruntled sound. “You son of a—”
“Uh uh,” The scientist smiles. “Who’s in control right now?”
“Master,” Monet appears behind him, and you jolt against the chains. You bare your teeth at her, pure rage coursing through you at the sight of her. She must’ve searched your unconscious body for Law’s heart since you never parted with it. The thought makes you shiver. “The feed’s ready.” 
A large white sheet dispenses from the ceiling, and a bright visual of outside the laboratory flashes on the screen. There’s a large blue-striped candy positioned in the middle. 
Caesar holds a device in his hand that you assume is connected to a monstrous number of Transponder Snails. “This is Smiley!”
You furrow your eyebrows, seeing a giant magenta slime ball moving feverishly in the snow. 
“He’s a living incarnation of the toxic H2S gas that destroyed this island four years ago!” 
A memory flashes in your mind; you sit in Law’s office on the Polar Tang, looking over photos in a book. 
“Two years ago, when Vegapunk was using the island, the island exploded when one of his scientists threw a fit with his Devil Fruit, rendering it uninhabitable…”
You gasp, using the limited movement of your hand to hit Law’s bicep. He nods, knowing what you’ve just realised. 
“That was the problem with my last test,” Caesar continues. “They were saturated with the deadly gas, but they were still able to evacuate. Boring! Disappointing! So I made a new one!” 
You cringe and look at Robin, whose usually stoic expression is slightly twisted. 
“The candy here boosts his poisonous composition, making him one hundred times more deadly, shurororo!”
“This is bad,” Tashigi mumbles; it’s the first time you’ve heard her speak since you’ve been awake. 
“Now, let the party begin!” 
On the screen, the slimy ball erupts; its face starts melting down, and the bottom of it turns gaseous. Hundreds of people are outside the lab, their bodies like ants on the video feed. 
You watch as the gas swallows them, and when there’s no movement from beyond the purple clouds, you balk. 
“This is crazy,” Smoker mumbles. 
“Everyone out there,” Luffy says. “They’re all going to die.” 
The cage jolts and creaks. Your body sways with the movement. “What’s happening?” 
“Shurororororo. Have fun!”
There’s a crack and metal on metal behind you, and then the cage swings backward. An icy wind hits you, and snow immediately starts pelting the cell. 
“Fucking hell,” Smoker grumbles as the cage starts rising. The swaying isn’t doing you any good, the ground getting further and further away.  
Luffy shivers, his teeth chattering. “I’m gonna be sick.”
“No, you’re not,” Robin says. “Enjoy the ride.” 
You feel the cage rock, but being suspended this high isn’t as scary as the impending gas.
The sudden commotion of cheering has you paying attention to the ground. There are hundreds of Marines surrounding the cage, and Tashigi gasps, throwing herself against the wall of the cell. 
The cage lowers, and the chains holding it creak under its weight. 
“No…” She whimpers, her eyes wide as she looks up. Above you, the purple gas looms. It moves fast and isn’t showing any signs of slowing. 
“I gotta say,” Franky chimes in, making you blink out of your stupor. “They really built this lab as a fortress, huh?”
Robin shrugs a shoulder. “Very true.”
Tashigi makes a sound of indignation. “How are you two so calm right now?”
“Yeah,” Luffy ponders. “How are we getting outta this?”
Law sighs, and your attention falls on him. He definitely has a plan he didn’t tell you about, and you’re secretly seething about it. “I wasn’t expecting Vergo, but no matter. Straw Hat, we’re sticking with the plan.” 
You scoff in surprise. “What plan?” 
Robin and Franky smile smugly beside you, and you suddenly feel like an outsider. 
“Time for the counterattack.” 
Luffy leers, his expression turning to one of mischief.
You shake your head. “So everyone knows about this plan but me?” 
“I didn't know,” Tashigi offers, but you huff with frustration. 
You won’t ask Law here, but the idea that you weren’t included stings. He gives you an apologetic look, but you remain deadpan. 
“We need to speed this up,” Law says. “If anyone can burn things, now would be the time to say it.” 
“Franky can burn things!” Luffy laughs. “He’s got laser beams, too!” 
“Can you set fire to that Navy ship down there?” 
“Huh? You mean half a Navy ship?”
“Whatever,” Law mutters. “Yeah.”
“Sweet. Sit back and be impressed, ladies,” Franky jumps to his feet and leans back. You roll your eyes but do so anyway, the back of your head thumping against the metal. “Fireball!” 
The heat speeds past you, warming you briefly before the cold seeps back in. Marines scream as the Navy ship behind them goes up in flames.
The smoke suffocates your lungs, and you cough, the air burning your throat. The air eventually clears, and Franky is nowhere to be seen. You furrow your eyebrows as you look around the small space. 
“Now, what?” 
Law sighs, standing. The chains around him go slack, clanging sharply to the ground. You blink.
“Are you kidding?”
“What?!”
“How did you do that?” Tashigi asks, her voice light. 
Law looks down at you, his hand rubbing his chest. “Caesar’s Transponder Snails can’t see us, so we only have a few minutes to move.” 
“How’d you get those off?” Luffy gapes. 
“I’ve been here for months. I replaced some chains about two weeks ago. I thought something like this would happen.” 
“And I didn’t know because…?”
He sticks out his hand, his katana materialising before him. “We’ll talk about this later.” 
Scoffing, you look away from him, feeling the sea-prism chains loosen around you. “And you just happened to get the normal one?”
Law tries not to take your bitter tone to heart, but he clenches his jaw and slashes his katana around the cage to cut everyone’s chains. 
Once Luffy’s free, he jumps up, screaming with happiness. You’re not in the mood to do the same. 
“Hey, Traffy!” Luffy yells, prying open the wire of the left wall. “Where do we go?” 
Law clicks his tongue. “We’ll start by—”
“Okay!” Luffy flings himself out of the hole, and you watch him freefall. You go to call after him but figure it's useless when he lands on a railing around the main building. 
“Tch,” Law scoffs, glancing at you. “Quickly.”  
“I’m going to see my Sunny!” Franky exclaims. “See ya!”
The purple cloud isn’t far away, and the sight of it causes anxiety to prickle your insides. It spills over the mountain, and Law uses Shambles to transport you, Smoker, Tashigi, and Robin inside the laboratory. 
Law directs you away from them immediately, tugging you down the hall. 
“This way.”
— Scene 6 —
Law walks beside you, his steps light. You don’t speak but are eager to see where the SAD room has been. 
There is a rattling of footsteps in front of you, and when the men in the yellow suits point their weapons at you, you sigh. Law quickly slices them down using Room, and then you look up. 
A giant door sits in the wall, and Law clears his throat. “This is it.” 
You look behind you. “It was in Building D the whole time?” 
Law says nothing as the doors creak and a siren starts blaring. The doors start sliding open, and the alarms get louder. There’s nobody behind you but the severed torsos of the yellow-suited men, and you follow Law inside when he steps inside. 
“Hm,” Law hums, a smirk on his face. You glance at him and shake your head with disbelief. This is it. This is what you’ve been working toward for almost two years. The realisation makes your heart race. 
“Law…” You exhale, spinning slowly as you take it in. 
The giant SAD tanks loom ominously over you, the bubbling sounds from within them making it all the more unsettling. Now, it’s easy. 
Law draws his katana, the blade reflecting the red lights of the tanks. Anticipation fills the space between you, and you forget why you’re mad at him in the first place. 
You open your mouth to say something, anything to quell the tension between you when a voice echoes through the factory. 
“It feels like I’ve been bitten by my own dog, Law.” 
Law exhales softly and turns, returning his sword to its scabbard while you freeze, the voice familiar. 
“It’s such a shame, Law,” Vergo says. “People like you, so smart, tend to die at a young age.”
You turn, flicking your finger up to summon Sew. A thread weaves around his neck, tightening before Vergo uses armament haki to snap it. 
“It’d be easiest for me to kill you by crushing your heart,” Vergo continues, ignoring your advances. “But that’s no fun. So, I’m going to torment you slowly. Maybe with her—”
Before you can comprehend, he appears in front of Law, slamming his chin up with a bamboo stick. You gasp, staggering away as he continues to hammer Law, pointedly ignoring you. 
It’s been a blur since then. 
The memory makes you falter, a fist knocking you to the floor, your cheek numb. He’s fast. 
Law is across the room, on the verge of passing out. 
“Vergo,” His voice is gravelly, his tone harsh as he says the name. The man watches you heave on the ground, cocking his head and ignoring Law. 
Vergo slinks toward you, his sunglasses obscuring his eyes. “Joker’s been interested in you.”
You clench your jaw tight to stop the shutter that goes through you. Vergo was the one who got Corazon killed. By some cruel twist of fate, this man led to the demise of your lover's best friend.
Law growls from where he lies across the room, slipping in and out of consciousness. 
“You and him have… similar abilities. He wants to meet you.”
“Go to hell,” You wheeze, gritting your teeth. Vergo scoffs a laugh as you cough, a metallic taste flooding your mouth; one of your molars is loose on your tongue, and you realise it just freed itself from when Vergo punched you—you must’ve kept it in place when you set your jaw. 
Law mumbles your name, his hand reaching for you. You spit your tooth out, the molar bouncing on the floor. Vergo walks back over to Law, a familiar blue cube in his hand. 
“Seems you and Law have become close. Joker’s going to have a field day,” Vergo laughs, tightening his grip on Law’s heart. You cry out as Law does. 
“Stop!” You try to yell, your body curling in on itself. The room spins, and you blink away the darkness from your eyes. 
Law grunts, his breathing ragged, and he clutches his chest. “Room.” 
The heart in Vergo’s hand disappears, and when you look at Law, he holds it. You sigh with relief, moving to try and stand. 
But he’s too quick; Vergo rushes Law, kicking him in the stomach, causing him to slam into the railing on the other side of the room. Law coughs, blood dripping from his mouth. The heart flies from the impact, and Vergo catches it. 
“No,” You cry, clawing yourself toward them, your hand flipping slightly to summon Seam.
But as the word slips from your lips, Vergo charges for you, his haki-laced fist punching your cheek. Seam falters; Vergo’s conscience controls his body, but you can feel his soul within you. It’s angry and haughty, the soul struggling against your ability.
“Wha–?”
Law goes flying backwards as Vergo hits him again, his beloved hat knocked off his head and disappearing into the depths of the laboratory. He pants, his hand covering his chest as he reaches his right hand forward. “Counter Shock.” 
Vergo freezes, his body twitches, and smoke erupts from his chest. “I have a message from Joker. He says it’s a shame it had to turn out this way.” 
You scoff weakly, pushing yourself to your feet while Law uses the railing to support himself. There’s blood dripping from Law’s lip, and you doubt you look much better. But as Vergo keeps talking, you register that Law’s attack didn’t work, and from the way his eyes widen, you know he’s realised, too. 
“I wasn’t expecting to see you here,” Law cuts him off, a tactic he’s used many times. It’s his favourite, you’ve gathered after being with him for two years, to throw off his opponent. “I should’ve known you were his lackey. Don’t you have better things to do?”
“Tch,” Vergo cocks his head, his hand tightening around Law's heart again. “You’re not the only one I’m after.”
You’ll never get used to the screams that escape Law, the sound motivating you to approach Vergo from behind. Silently, a needle takes shape in your fist, and you raise it, aiming for Vergo’s head. 
Around you, the SAD tanks rumble, the red light of the emergency lights casting an eerie hue. Law’s shrieks echo, and just as Vergo lets up the assault on Law’s heart, you swing, changing course at the last moment. 
Sew didn’t work earlier, and it hasn’t worked since, with Vergo using his armament haki to prevent the threads from doing any damage. But this time, instead of hitting him, you jab the needle straight into his back. 
Law moans out with relief, his limbs weak and his body taking the brunt of the pain. He slides down to the floor, hitting it with a thump. 
Vergo pauses, his head turning to glance at you. Your needle protrudes from him, just between his shoulder blades, but he’s not affected. You inhale sharply.
“Really? Now? I’m in the middle of something.” 
You whine with frustration and step back. Vergo approaches you, his nose leaking blood—turns out he is human. 
You breathe heavily, your feet slipping as you stumble backward. 
“I’m right here,” Law calls weakly. “Don’t touch her.” 
Vergo stops his advance and squeezes Law’s heart again. You falter, watching Vergo torment him. 
“Shut up. Lay there and wait until I’m ready for you. I’ve got to deal with her first.” 
“No!” Law pants, voice desperate. “I’m your opponent.” 
Vergo ignores him before vanishing. You try to even out your breathing, to balance yourself, and clear your head. You need to fight. 
“Needles,” You whisper, your head on a swivel. He could be anywhere. You move before he appears, your needle stopping Vergo from hitting you with the bamboo stick. You let out a sound of surprise, jumping back and preparing for his next attack. 
He cocks his head—he wasn’t expecting you to have observation haki. You barely notice the improvement of your haki, arms burning with each meeting of his weapon on yours. It’s fast and tiring, but you channel your ability, using Seam to suppress his soul. 
Vergo growls, his movement getting more erratic with each swing. He ducks, but another needle emerges in your other hand when he does so. You drop the one Vergo is concentrated on and clutch the new one with both hands, swinging it directly into his forehead. You unknowingly infuse it with haki at the last minute and send Vergo flying backward. 
Law laughs weakly, pride evident in the sound. You don’t let it distract you before you vanish. When Vergo’s body slumps slightly, Law sighs. 
You dodge Vergo’s attack as soon as you enter Seam; the man seems to know exactly where you’d be before you arrive. 
Letting out a surprised squeal, you point a needle at his jugular before he moves again.
“I’m in control here,” You pant, a slight grin on your lips. 
Vergo raises an eyebrow. “We’ll see about that, Dreamweaver.” 
You blink at the nickname, speechless. 
“Oh, you don’t know what you are, do you?” He laughs, using your shock as an opportunity to punch you. You swiftly avoid it, your body light inside your mindscape. “Joker has a lot to tell you.”
You scowl, holding a needle like a spear and stabbing him. “Joker’s not telling me shit. When I see him, I’m going to kill him.” 
Vergo scoffs, not bothering to check on the slash on his arm from your needle, the fluff of his white coat poking through the fabric. “I would advise against that. You are worth so much more than… this.” 
“Shut up!” You shout, continuously cutting him down with the little energy you have left—fighting inside Seam always takes a toll on you. Vergo takes the hits. 
“I’m not allowed to kill you,” He says. “Joker’s orders.” 
“If you say that name one more time…”
Vergo turns his head to spit blood. “You could be a god.” 
Shaking your head, your needle pierces his stomach. “Shut up!” 
You watch his soul go limp, hyperventilating as you process what just happened. The blood seeping onto the lush grass pisses you off. You clench your jaw to stop the emotions from overflowing and return to the material world. 
Law cries your name, his body hunched over where he sits. You rush over to him, your hands on his shoulders. 
“You okay?” 
He nods, pointing weakly at Vergo’s body. “He’s not dead.”
“I know,” You say, quickly snatching the blue cube from Vergo’s hand. “Here.”
“Thanks,” Law gulps, taking his heart with a shaky hand. “Scalpel.”
After he slots his heart back into his chest, wincing as he goes, Law brings you close to him. You wrap your arms around him and shove his face into your neck. 
“We have a lot to talk about when we’re outta here,” You whisper, a tear falling from your eye. 
Law hums. “Is this because I didn’t tell you the plan?” 
Straight to the point.
“Of course it is!” You exclaim, pulling away from him. You wipe another tear that rolls. “If you don’t trust me—”
“—you’re kidding, right?—”
“—I know you, Law. I know you want to protect me, and I know by not telling me the plan, you were protecting me from Vergo’s torture,” You look over at the man. There’s no doubt that if he got his hands on you, he would’ve tortured you for information—you’re Law’s 'assistant', after all. “I know and appreciate it; I appreciate you more than ever. But I can keep my mouth shut; I can be trusted. I’ve been with you for two years and never betrayed your trust like that.”
“It’s not about trust,” Law mumbles, tracing the bruise forming on your arm. “It’s about them.” 
“Who?” You ask, voice dangerous. “You better not be talking about Luffy.”
He bangs his fist softly on the floor. “Vergo. Doflamingo. Everyone from my past that can hurt you. You didn’t sign up for this when we got together.” 
At the sound of Doflamingo, your breath hitches in your throat. Law notices immediately. “What did he say to you? Vergo?” 
“He says Joker has a lot to tell me. He called me Dreamweaver.” 
Law makes a sound of frustration. “Fuck.” 
“You know what that is?” 
“No. But I’ve heard of legends with the same name. There’s no way…” He trails off, seemingly deep in thought.
You shake your head, focusing on the task at hand, trying to wipe the dried blood from the corner of his mouth to gain his attention.
“Anyway, I signed up for everything to do with you when we got together,” You say. “And none of those egotistical assholes scare me.”
“They should,” Law’s eyes peer into yours. “I’m scared of him.” 
“Law…”
“I can’t lose you,” He whispers, voice cracking. “If Doflamingo knows what you are to me, I’m scared of what he’ll do.” 
You reach for his arm, tugging him close again. “I get it.” 
“I know you’re strong, far stronger than me, and you can handle yourself. But I’m a selfish man.”
The only sounds in the factory are those of the tanks. You move to stand, helping Law to his feet. Having his heart back has made Law return to his usual self as you watch him summon his hat and katana back. He sighs when the hat fits smugly back on his head. 
“Ready to destroy this thing?”
“Not so fast.”
You cringe, Law’s hand tight around yours. Vergo stands there when you turn, his coat gone and body purple with armament haki. You freeze at the sight, Law removing his hand from yours to grip his katana, unsheathing it with an unimpressed look on his face—a sure sign that he knows he’ll win. 
Vergo doesn’t speak and speeds towards you, Law’s body poised and ready, like a true fighter. 
“Duck,” He says, and you do, watching in awe and horror as Vergo’s torso separates from his legs. It isn’t until you look up that you realise the room—the mountain—is split in two as well. 
You gape, tears filling your eyes. A devilish smile splits his face, and you return to your full height. 
“You’re incredible,” You murmur, not sparing a glance at Vergo’s mutilated body. Law scoffs, a hand on your hip as you search his grey eyes. 
Distant screams have you looking at the entrance and Law huffs. He casts his gaze over to Vergo, a sadistic gleam in his eye that excites you. “We have to get to Building R. But I’ve something to do before then.” 
— Scene 7 —
You stand against the mast of the Sunny, the celebrations on the ice below doing nothing to bring you out of your foul mood. A missing tooth with bruising and swelling has made you irritable and upset. 
The rest of the mission went smoothly, the only problem being Caesar and the two executives of the Doflamingo family, Baby 5 and Buffalo. Franky was attacked by them before you made it to the beach; their threats of what Doflamingo would do carried away with the wind when everybody else showed up. 
“Keep the ice pack on your jaw!” Chopper demands, lifting your arm back toward your face. You shake the memory from your head, not wanting to worsen your mood. The reindeer wears an uncharacteristic scowl, but under the guise, you see the emotions he hides. He was eager to help you when he saw you again, brushing off Law’s attempts at helping you.
“Sorry,” You mumble, pressing the bag against your face. The icy burn makes you wince, but you keep it there nonetheless. The wind picks up, and you’ve missed the salty air whipping your clothes and hair. 
“I can give you some medicine for the pain, but don’t expect it to do much if you don’t keep it iced,” Chopper says, his authoritative tone fading when he sees the ghost of a smile on your lips. 
Shaking your head, you pat his arm. “Don’t apologise, Chop. It’s my fault. I wasn’t paying attention.” 
“Bullshit.”
You look up from your friend to see Law. He wears his usual irritated, unamused facade, but his eyes shine with something akin to pride when he looks at you.
Chopper moves to stand in front of you. “She’s recovering.” 
“I can see that,” Law says, remaining where he is. “When can I talk to her?”
“Tomorrow—”
“It’s okay, Chop,” You mumble, stepping around him. He looks down at you in his human form, eyes filled with concern. “It’s just Law.”
“Did you see what he did to those children? They were screaming!”
“I was removing the poison from their bloodstreams.”
“It was terrifying.”
You smile. “He’s harmless, Chopper.”
The reindeer spins, jaw slack and eyes wide. “Harmless?! He cut all those Marines in half!”
“They deserved it,” Law says, his katana sliding off his shoulder. He leans it against the wall beside the door to the study. “Anyway, can I please speak to my girlfriend?”
“Girlfriend?!” Chopper almost faints. “I gotta go; this is too much for me. You two are crazy.”
As he stumbles away, Chopper shrinks to his usual size. “Food…” 
Law keeps his eyes on you, his gaze wavering to flicker down to the bruise on your cheek. His jaw ticks, and his face morphs into a scowl. “Tch.”
“I’m okay,” You reassure him, stepping forward and taking his hand in your free one. “We just need to get to Dressrosa now.”
“I’m sorry.”
Your eyebrows tug together. “For what?”
“I didn’t plan on you getting captured. You were meant to be with Nami and the others. That’s why there was only one set of normal chains.”
“Oh,” You whisper, looking up at him. “Law, I forgave you for that the second we were out of there. I knew you had a plan, and I was upset that you didn’t tell me, but it worked out.”
Law shakes his head. “I trust you.”
“I know.”
“I’m sorry.”
A memory flashes through your head, and you bite back a smile. “Stop saying sorry.”
Law seems to understand the reference. He pulls your hand into him, your chest bumping his. “I’ve got something to do before we set off. Want to help?”
It sounds sketchy, but you nod, sending him a grin twinged with excitement. 
After the ship sets sail following the Log Pose to Dressrosa, your nerves start to dwindle. Law sits beside you against the wall, snow raining down on you softly. 
You look at him. “Are you sure you want to talk to him?”
He scratches his cheek, sighing harshly. “No, but I have to at some point.”
Humming, you watch your friends dance around the deck, admiring the falling snowflakes. With another weight lifted off your chest, you sigh, content. 
“I didn’t expect to be on this ship again,” You mumble. 
Law gives you a sidelong glance, silently urging you to continue. 
“When we got to Punk Hazard, I wanted to go to Sabaody so badly,” You confess, skin tingling with shame. 
“I know.”
Your head whips toward him. “You did?”
Law nods. “You’re not very subtle, you know.” 
“I’m sorry,” You look at your hands in your lap. “I didn’t mean to make you feel like that.”
He tilts his head. “Like what?”
“Like I wanted to leave you because I didn’t. Truly.”
“I know,” He shrugs, voice quiet. “I understand.” 
You squint at him, considering his tone and posture. “Are you okay?”
“I—”
“Hey, Law! The Transponder Snail you asked me to watch is talking!” Robin calls. “And Caesar is chained up in the study.”
“C’mon,” Law rises, his hand outstretched for you to grab ahold of. You take it as a sign he’s not bitter with you—like he never could ever be—and follow him to the study. 
The Snail starts picking up clear dialogue as you sit beside Law, anxiety pouring over you like ice water. You remain locked up in the study; Caesar Clown opposite you with his hands in sea-prism stone cuffs. 
Law leans forward and picks up the receiver. “Colour me surprised. It’s the boss. I didn't think you’d show up in person.”
“Hello, Law. It’s been far too long, hasn’t it? A real shame you didn’t choose to show your face… or that of your assistant.”
The voice sends a shiver down your spine. 
“I figure you wanna know where Caesar is,” Law says. “He’s safely in our hands.” 
The scientist jolts at the sound of his name. “Joker! Where are you? They got me! Help me, please!”
Law shoots him a glare while you threaten him with a needle pointed at his throat. Caesar gulps and whimpers. 
“Question regarding the state of my cohort’s bodies,” Doflamingo barks. “Where are they?”
Law shrugs. “I couldn’t say. Nor does it particularly interest me. Let’s negotiate.” 
Doflamingo hums down the line, and you pray he’ll take the bait. 
“C’mon, Law, get serious,” He cackles. “Quit pretending like you’re an adult, and let’s cut to the chase. Where are you? Where did you take that girl? Answer quickly, or I may get angry.”
You inhale sharply, ignoring the wide-eyed stares from Caesar. 
“Oh, you’ll get angry?” Law taunts, but his fist turns white as he tightens on the receiver. “And what about your business partner… what’s his name again? Oh! Kaido. King of the Beasts, right? An emperor? If there’s anyone you’d wanna keep from getting angry, I think it’d be him.”
Doflamingo grunts as Law continues. 
“I wonder how he might react after he finds out you can’t produce SMILE anymore. Who knows?”
“Alright,” He snaps. “You’ve carried the joke far enough. What do you want to trade for Caesar? And that girl?”
Law’s face falls, clicking his tongue. “She’s not a part of the deal. Never will be. So get her out of your sick head.”
“Pity,” Doflamingo laughs. “I was hoping to meet her, and—“
“Resign from the Seven Warlords.” 
“Hm?” Doflamingo hums, his tone dangerous now that Law is leading the conversation.
“That’s the deal for Caesar. Resign, and you get him back.”
“C’mon!” Another voice echos down the line. “If Joker quits, he’ll be forced to leave Dressrosa!”
“Yeah, well,” Law says, picking at a small hole in his jeans—he’ll have to get you to fix it for him. “Shit happens, and once you’re a lowly pirate once more, the Navy won’t be able to turn a blind eye to you any longer. You have until tomorrow. If there’s a headline in the morning paper saying that you’ve resigned, I’ll give you a call, and you can have your precious Caesar back. But, if I don’t, my offer is as good as dead.”
He reaches forward and places the receiver back on the snail, and Caesar thrashes in his chains. “What? You’re going to kill me if Joker doesn’t resign?”
“I guess we’ll see tomorrow.” 
“And what of her?” 
Law growls. “Don’t even think of her. She’s a part of no deal and never will be.”
Slamming the receiver down on the snail, who gives a little squeak at his aggression, Law stands. You follow him, leaving the study and Caesar inside. Law blinks quickly when he exits into the sun, and you’re quick to grab ahold of his bicep. 
“You okay?”
“Yeah, are you?” Law’s tongue darts out to wet his lower lip. “Fuck, that was—”
“Exhilarating,” You leer, pursing your lips to suppress your grin when he catches the excited look on your face. Sure, Doflamingo scares the shit out of you, but you can’t help the adrenaline that runs rampant through your veins at pissing him off. 
“Yeah, okay.”
You lace your fingers with his to bring him back to you. His mind is miles away, and the simple act of squeezing his hand rids him of the faraway look in his eye. “And now we wait.” 
— Scene 9 —
Salty air swirls around you. The overwhelming scent in the breeze used to make your senses sharper; now, they lull you into relaxation. The sun is harsh, beating down on your skin, but you welcome it, missing the feeling of being on open seas. 
Beams reflect off the deep blue, enticing you to jump in. The urge is irresistible, and you would, if you could, the soul of your Devil Fruit coercing you to dive in, to repent for the sin of eating it. But you hold back, strengthening the grip of your fingers on the railing. 
The horizon is vast, with nothing in sight except for the light blue of the sky and the tantalising indigo of the ocean. You wonder how long it took for the first human to venture out on the seas and if you could have waited as long as they did—the waves too mesmerising to ignore for longer than a single minute. You long to plunge into the icy water, submerge your mind, and just exist. The depths are so close you can taste it.
The steady sway of the Thousand Sunny is enough to bring you to tears, though they don’t fall. You squint at the bow of the ship, the outline of the figurehead and your captain sitting atop it, a familiar sight that sends deep ripples of nostalgia and bliss through your chest. 
Someone joins you, their forearm against yours on the railing. You already know who it is before they speak. 
“Brought you a snack,” He says, offering you a round, plump tangerine. You smirk, watching him spin the fruit in his hand. 
“Nami’s going to kill you.” 
He shrugs, using his thumbs to pierce the top of the tangerine and peel the skin away from the flesh. “Worth it if you get to enjoy it.” 
You turn to face him, watching his expressions with keen interest. Law isn’t a man who believes he wears his heart on his sleeve, but you know better. He’s hiding his true feelings, and with the negotiation with Doflamingo up in the air, you know that his furrowed eyebrows and chapped lips are the outcome of anxiety rather than whatever excuse he would tell you.
Law removes a segment of the fruit, holding it out for you to take. His grey eyes twinkle in the sunlight, and you ponder the true shade of them—you’ve never seen him like this, fully submerged in sunshine. 
You pluck the tangerine slice from his fingertips and bite into it. The juice slides down your fingers, the sweet tang of citrus fresh on your tongue. 
“Silver.”
Law raises an eyebrow slightly, offering you another piece. “Hm?”
“Your eyes are silver,” You say, licking the sticky sweetness from your fingertip. “Not grey.”
Law doesn’t reply; instead, he opens his mouth to accept the segment you press against his lips. Your eyes don’t leave his as he bites into it, juice dripping from his chin. A smile spreads across your cheeks as he wipes it away with the back of his hand, eyeing you with faux annoyance. 
“You think so?”
You nod, using your thumb to dry the corner of his lip. “I know so, and they’re gorgeous.”
He snorts and shakes his head, the tangerine peel clutched in his palm. “Yeah, okay, sweetheart…”
A frown takes over your once joyful expression, and Law sighs, looking to the sky. “Okay, they’re alright.”
You laugh, the sound falling from your lips with such furore that Law inhales sharply at the mere thought of never hearing it again. 
“You’re gorgeous,” He mumbles, clasping his palms around your fingers and keeping them against his chest. “You’re the most precious soul alive.”
You pout; his gaze is intense in the daylight. Your heart swells in your chest; the pressure is almost unbearable. A giddy squeal leaves your mouth, and you jump up and wrap your arms around his neck. 
“Who knew Trafalgar D. Water Law could be such a sap.” 
Law's stomach turns as your lips form the letters of his full name. It’s surprising and terrifying, but it’s you. And when you finish saying his real name, he closes his eyes. He doesn’t know how to digest the truth that you’re saying it from a place of love, not malice.
When he cracks an eye open to see your wide grin, his shoulders relax, the tension receding from his body like the ocean at low tide; Law’s glassy, silver eyes search yours, and you lean forward to capture his lips.
He hums in content, tightening his hold around your waist. The affection has been a long time coming, having been on Punk Hazard for a few months, and it’s more rewarding than anything you could dream of. You giggle, Law pinching your side.
“Thanks for bringing me a tangerine,” You whisper, curling your bottom lip into your mouth to taste the remnants of the sweet fruit. 
Law’s eyes flicker down to your mouth. “Always.”
A large bird flies overhead, in his talons, a newspaper. 
“Law,” You swallow thickly, eyes following the creature until the paper drops on the deck. You tug him along quickly, feet slapping against the wood floors as you rush for the main area. 
The grass is plush under your feet when you jump from the third step onto it. In Usopp’s hands is the newspaper, his fingers slightly crushing the thin pages. He holds it out to you, which you take and pass to Law. 
His exhale is shaky as he reads the headline: Donquixote Doflamingo Resigns as Warlord of the Sea. 
“We have to call him!” Luffy exclaims as he bursts from the kitchen. “He resigned!” 
But Law’s already got the ringing Transponder Snail in his hand, the receiver in front of his lips. It rings for a while, and you’re unsure if Doflamingo will answer. 
Click.
“I resigned. Happy now?” 
“Tch,” Law tuts, swerving the phone away from Luffy, who is trying to grab it. “We’re handing Caesar over to you.”
“Well, that was the deal,” Doflamingo growls. “Now, put me onto my business partner. I want to confirm that he’s right where he’s supposed to be.”
Franky pulls Caesar out from the study, the scientist’s face alight with relief. He shuffles over, his shackled hands gripping the receiver when Law shoves it in his direction. “Joker! I’m so sorry! You resigned from the Warlords all because of me!”
Law yanks the receiver away. “He’s fine.”
“Great,” Doflamingo’s voice is slimy, making you grimace. 
“We’ll meet eight hours from now, on the southeast side of Green Bit.”
Usopp, Chopper, and Luffy’s ears perk up at the mention of a new island, their fingers inching to snatch the snail from Law. 
“We’ll leave Caesar there for you at 3pm. Pick him up, and this will be over.”  
A deep, rumbling laugh emerges from the snail. “Don’t say that. I was hoping to meet your girlfriend. I hear she’s got an interesting ability—”
Law grunts and slams the receiver back on the snail’s shell. He runs his tongue over his teeth, breathing heavily. How did Doflamingo find out about his relationship with you? 
“Fuck,” He curses, tugging his hand off his head. You remain still, mind racing. “Fuck.”
The crew is silent. 
“There were no other conditions?” Sanji pipes up. You look at him, confused, your brain swimming with apprehension. You want to pay attention to what Sanji is proposing, but the sick feeling in your stomach overpowers your ability to think straight. Doflamingo knows. 
“Why would there be?” Usopp asks nervously. 
“What if he brings an entire crew with him?”
Usopp and Chopper scream, Nami looking slightly green beside them. 
“That won’t happen,” Law mumbles absentmindedly. “Caesar is a distraction. If he brings more people, that would be better for us.”
“Oh!” Like a lightbulb went off in his head, Usopp stands up straight. “If he brings more people to the tradeoff, then less people will be guarding the SMILE factory?” 
“Exactly. The only problem is, we need to find it.” 
“So, we need a plan,” You finally get a grip on reality, knowing what the word means to the Straw Hats. 
“I was thinking we just wing it!” Luffy laughs, placing his hands on the back of his head. You were expecting this, but from the look on Law’s face, he wasn’t. “Take a trip to Dressrosa, destroy the factory—ooh! Maybe we can swing by Wano when we’re done!”
“No,” Law shakes his head, and you know it’s useless. “We’re going in there blind; we need a plan.”
“Sanji! I’m hungry. What’s on the menu?” 
Law growls, and you giggle lightly when you step up beside him. “I could’ve told you that wouldn't have worked.” 
“Sandwiches.”
“Oooh! I want a cotton candy sandwich!” 
“Just a cup of tea, please.”
“Cola for me!” 
“Where’d you put the booze?” 
“Milk for me!” 
“You guys are boring. Sanji’s sandwiches are the best!”
The rest of the crew follows Luffy up the stairs and into the galley. Law stares in disbelief as they all disappear behind the door. 
“Sorry, but I don’t like bread!” Law yells after them, his expression twisted into one of anguish. You continue to laugh as he gasps at how easily the secret fell from his lips. He glances at you and tuts. “Shut up, you.” 
“I’ll tell Sanji to make rice balls,” You wink before making your way up the stairs and into the galley. Pretending like you aren’t going straight into a death trap is one of your favourite pastimes, and teasing Law is more fun than stewing with anxiety in the darkness of your room. 
Law scrunches his nose, mulling over the thought of stacks of bread before him. 
“Are you just going to leave me here to starve?” 
Law’s usual stoic facade falls back into place as he observes Caesar sitting on the grass. There’s no hesitation when he answers. “Yes.” 
And then he follows your footsteps.
— Scene 10 —
The sight of land after sailing never fails to make your chest warm. Every time you’ve done it, it’s exciting, daunting, frightening, confronting, and unpredictable—and every time, you leave feeling like you’ve achieved something bigger than you could have imagined. Being a Straw Hat pirate is honest work. 
After this morning’s feast of sandwiches, or in Law’s case, rice balls, you formulated a plan. It was shoddy at best because everyone and nobody contributed to the final idea, and while you were used to it, Law was at his wit's end. 
He watches in horror as Luffy jumps off the side of the Sunny, screaming all the way down. You don’t need to check to see that he landed on solid ground; he always does. 
“Luffy!” Usopp scolds over the edge of the ship. “Shut it! We’re in enemy territory.”
Franky is next to disembark, his voice loud as he joins Luffy in discussing what they will do on the island. Usopp is having a meltdown, his anxiety palpable. 
“Straw Hat,” Law calls when his feet land on the island. You’re not far behind, coddling a stressed Usopp. “We can go into town; just don’t take any unnecessary risks. We don’t need—”
“Oh, hey! I just had a great idea,” Luffy exclaims, running over to Nami and Momonosuke. “Let me ride you, dragon!”
Law glares at him with a frown as he runs away. “Tch.”
“I can’t fly!” Momonosuke yells, fear evident in his tone. You ignore the conversation after that, walking over to Law when Usopp has calmed down. Your friends continue their usual antics, egging each other on and arguing about who's more of a man. 
You glance at Law, who has a deep-set scowl etched on his features. “They’re always like this.”
He doesn’t answer, choosing to stand and watch them in silence. Your gaze wanders off to the centre of the island, where there is a singular, giant structure just over the tops of the trees. When you squint to get a better look, you swear there’s a building on top of it. 
“Here.”
The sound of Law’s voice brings you back to the scene before you: Sanji, Kin’emon, and Brook on the ground, injured. You don’t doubt it had something to do with Nami. 
Said woman turns when Law approaches her, and you wonder how he left you alone so quietly—you still haven’t put that bell on him. 
“Take this.”
Nami furrows her eyebrows. “Huh? A Vivire Card?”
“Yeah,” He replies. “It’ll take you to that place, Zou, I mentioned at breakfast. My crew’s there.”
Nami nods, inspecting the piece of paper in her palm. “Uh, okay?”
The breeze is light as you walk to them, and the rest of the crew is crowding around, too. 
“If anything happens to us on Dressrosa, go straight there.” 
Nami goes to ask a question when Law turns and crouches down. You take that as your cue to hand him the map. His fingers brush yours, and you can’t help the heat rising to your cheeks at the mere contact—it’s different when people are around. 
He unfurls Bepo’s map on the ground, pointing to a place at the bottom of the main blob. 
“Kinda sloppy,” Nami mumbles and you purse your lips; you can’t but agree, the familiar paw mark on the bottom right of the paper making you smile. Law ignores her. 
“This is where we are,” Law says, moving his index finger to the middle of the island. “This is where Doflamingo’s palace is.” 
You peer up at the tall mountain in the distance. There. 
“The SMILE factory could be anywhere. So just search for info and don’t raise suspicion.” 
You side-eye Luffy, who gives you a cheesy grin. 
“My team is responsible for handing over Caesar on Green Bit up here,” Law moves his finger upwards to the green blob in the top left. He's talking to you, Usopp, Robin, and Caesar; all of who nod except for Caesar, who winces. 
It isn’t ideal, you being within Doflamingo’s vicinity, but Law knows better than to argue with you about your own safety. So he was at a loss when you insisted you accompany them to Green Bit.
“I think I’ve come down with ‘Can’t Step Foot On Dressrosa’ Disease. It’s terminal.” 
You slap your hand and grip tight on Usopp’s shoulder. He pales, a forced grin pulling at the corners of his lips. “You’ll stick with me, right?”
Beaming, you nod. “Of course. I think I’ve got a similar disease.”
Usopp’s wide eyes close as he cries out. “We’re fucked!”
“As for the Sunny Security Team, be wary of enemy attacks,” Law cuts him off. “You may have to be our decoy.” 
Nami gasps. “No! That’s a thing?”
“That’s okay! We’ve got Sanji to protect us,” Chopper giggles, nudging Brook. You roll your lips inward when the cook is nowhere to be seen. Surprising. 
Chopper screams in fear. “No! You can’t leave us here without protection!” 
“Luffy’s gone, and so are Zoro, Franky, and Kin’emon.” 
Law grunts, tilting his head toward the sky. “Those idiots. This plan is riding on them.”
“Get used to it,” You sigh, crossing your arms over your chest. 
“Not helping.” 
“You’re not seriously leaving us here on our own,” Nami quips. “How are we going to protect ourselves?”
“Not my problem.”
After an argument or two, you, Law, Robin, Usopp, and Caesar leave the Sunny Security Team alone on the Sunny, promising not to take too long. It’s a pain, but it’s the best plan you could devise, considering Doflamingo’s presence on Green Bit. 
You start your journey, first going into the town to purchase disguises, which seems stupid now that you look at Law. 
“Cute,” You comment, mischief swimming in your eye. “Is that because you can’t grow a real one?” 
Law dodges your hand aiming to flick the end of the fake moustache attached to his upper lip. “Quit.” 
Robin comes back with sunglasses and a hat for you; the two pieces are cute at first glance. The sun is bright on Dressrosa, and the summer weather is in full effect, so donning the accessories won’t make you look out of place. 
“How’s this?” Law asks when Robin turns away to pay for your items. You open your mouth to respond, a quip on your tongue before you notice what he’s done.
With raised eyebrows, Law stands there, arms outstretched, his Corazon jacket unzipped, and his abs and tattoos on full display. You roll your lips inwards, suppressing a cheeky smile. 
“Hm?” 
You bob your head, no words forming. The apples of Law’s cheeks redden, and he goes to zip it back up. Robin leaves the vendor, joining back up with Usopp and Caesar, who already have their disguises on. Her sly laughter brings you out of your daze.
“No!” You squeal, lunging to halt his hands. “Well, yes, you’re incredibly sexy like this, but no, don’t cover up. Leave it.” 
Law gives you an unimpressed look, his nose scrunched slightly. “So, good disguise?”
Sighing, you run your hand along his chest, the sparse hairs tickling your fingertips. “Great disguise.”
Law’s eyes flicker down to your mouth, and your chest is tight with anticipation. But then there’s a horn, a high-pitched one and laughter. You jump, glancing over Law’s shoulder to see a clown standing there. 
“Come on, guys!” Usopp yells, waving at you. But you’re focused on the clown. It’s eerily similar to a toy you had as a child, unlike the humans dressed up in costumes on your island. The clown blinks, one eye closing after the other mechanically, and you yelp. 
Law’s hands enclose over your upper arms. “What’s wrong?”
You don’t say anything but blink, hoping your eyes are playing tricks on you. He pulls the sunglasses off his face and mumbles your name. 
You shake your head, and a slight uptilt of your lips have you laughing in disbelief. “I thought that was a toy.” 
Law looks to where you do. “You’re right. Weird.”
“Guys!”
You turn, your gaze on the ground, as you follow the rest of the team to the northeastern side of Dressrosa. 
— Scene 11 —
The bridge is eerily still when you stand at the entrance. There’s signage everywhere, many red with STOP and KEEP OUT printed on them, but the warnings do nothing to quash the interest you have in journeying across. 
Usopp trembles beside you, sweat dripping from his jaw. “Are you sure we need to go across this? Like there’s no other way?”
“Nope.”
He whines, covering his face with his hands. “Why am I on this team?” 
Robin fills the gap between you and Usopp. “I’m excited. The only thing to worry about is the monstrous flesh-eating fish. Think about how big they are; the bridge needs a cage to protect whoever’s on it.”
“Are you kidding me?” Usopp snaps. “I don’t need your morbidity right now.”
Robin shrugs and steps forward, her foot on the first panel of the bridge. “We better hurry, time’s ticking.”
“She’s right,” Law says, ignoring Usopp’s visible breakdown. “Let’s go.”
A hand latches onto your wrist, and you laugh, pulling your friend closer. “Together. Come on.” 
“Your disease seems to be improving,” He mumbles bitterly. Usopp takes a shaky step, the iron creaking under his weight. 
You follow suit, and then everybody is on the unsteady structure. There’s no movement in the surrounding water, and the group silently walks. The overwhelming stink of seaweed and rot is the only thing that abuses your senses. You scrunch your nose and try to focus on quelling the anxiety blooming in your chest. You’ve been walking for a few minutes, the wind howling through the iron bars.
You feel the urge to laugh bubbling in your throat, something to express the utter ridiculousness of walking on an iron bridge and being terrified of fish coming to attack you. The corners of your lips upturn as the laugh starts to escape when Law stops. 
“One’s approaching.”
You spin, the laugh dying on your tongue. “What?”
“Who?” Usopp squeaks, and his grip on your wrist tightens. You pay no mind to the pressure; it keeps your mind from thinking this is fake. 
If Law can detect the fish with his haki, then it’s a lot bigger than you thought. 
“That direction,” Law points to the left, a splash accentuating his statement. 
“There!” Caesar exclaims with his hands pressed to his chest. Your eyes dart to where he’s looking, and low and behold, there’s a giant fin skimming the water. 
The fish disappears under the bridge, and your hands move to squeeze Usopp’s arm.
Something is emerging from the water before you can say ‘go’... It’s unlike anything you imagined: thick, scarred, navy skin, mammoth, twisty horns, and rows of razor-sharp teeth widen before you. You watch as the fish flies above and over the bridge, the underside of its body just metres from your head. 
It continues its path overhead and lands with a splash on the other side of the bridge. 
Usopp is speechless beside you, his jaw slack and eyes bulging from his head. You look around at the group, everyone standing there watching the bubbles surface. 
“We should move,” You whisper, scared that if you speak any louder, the fish may hear you. It isn’t until the fin appears again, and then another, and another, and Law nods. 
“Move! Go!”
Your legs burn like they haven’t in a while, the collective footfalls of the group making the iron panels scrape against one another. 
“Watch out!” 
You veer to the right, a fish ramming its head directly into the iron bars where you just stood. Screaming with surprise and fear, you continue, Usopp a little bit ahead of you. 
The fish’s red eyes follow you, its jaw gnawing on the cage before it slinks back into the water. 
“Special Attack! Exploding Star!” 
Above you, Usopp’s bullets make contact with something, but you don’t dare look up. Sweat runs down the side of your face, and you feel useless. Seam does nothing against beasts like this. 
“Mil Fleurs.” 
You glance back to see Robin’s giant hand punch one of the fish’s heads, and Usopp load another bullet into his slingshot. 
“Skull Bombgrass!”
Law falls into step next to you as an explosion sounds above. The end of the bridge is nowhere in sight, and you feel your heart drop. 
“Are we even gonna make it to Green Bit?” You pant. 
“Usopp should be able to handle it.”
Your friend whips around at his name. “You’re kidding! You’re the Warlord! You do something!” 
Law peers back at the damage already caused and scoffs. “I can’t fight right now.”
“It’s a pack, we can’t fight them!” Robin yells. 
Law swears under his breath and surges forward. Usopp keeps up his attacks, sending bullets of various abilities at the fish. 
“Nose!” Law yells. “Unlock Caesar’s cuffs.” 
“What did you call me?” Usopp growls. “And why would I do that?” 
You answer before Law has the chance. “So he can fly us across the bridge.”
Caesar gasps behind you. “Like hell—”
“I’d reconsider.” You don’t see what Law holds up, but by Caesar’s reaction, you know it’s his heart. 
“You bastard! How’d you get your hands on that?”
Usopp unlocks the restraints, slipping the key back into his pocket. “Hurry up!” 
“You’re all going to die miserable deaths,” Caesar snaps as he turns around. A blue hue covers the bridge in front of you, and you glance back. 
“Law, if you could use that power of yours right now, that’d be great!” Usopp yells, transfixed by Caesar’s power, too. The blue beam coming from him is so large it swallows up four fish at once. 
“I can’t!”
“Well, fuck you then!” 
Law comes to a screeching halt, and you almost run into his back. The memory isn’t lost on you,  but you throw it away when you realise why he stopped. 
“Oh, perfect!” Usopp cries. The bridge drops off into the water, the other side of the iron structure metres from where you stand. There’s no way you could jump across there unless Law uses Shambles, which he won’t. 
“Caesar!” You scream, voice shrill to hurry him up. “Get over here!”
The scientist glares as he flies toward you. “Don’t you start ordering me around!”
You’re scooped up into Caesar’s arms, the wind slapping your skin as he speeds through the iron cage and to the end of the bridge. The wind carries away Usopp’s screams, and Law and Robin remain their usual composed selves. 
“Why didn’t we do this from the start?” Usopp exclaims, his hands grappling for purchase on the allusive gas. 
“Because I’m a hostage, and hostages are meant to be treated humanely!”
Green Bit is exactly as you expected: green. Giant flowers, fruits, vines, and mushrooms separate the foliage from the beach, the spectacles enough to stun you into silence. As you take in the sights before you, Robin and Law discuss the abandoned Navy ship to your left, but you don’t look. The flora is magnificent, with mushrooms in colours you’ve never thought possible and vines thicker than the Mangroves on Sabaody; you’re in awe. 
Nobody notices you walking toward the foreign plants, all too absorbed with the ship. Down the beach, there’s a rose, but one that could swallow the Sunny if it wanted to. It draws you to it, and you gladly obey its song, the red of the petals so deep it parallels the deepest blood. 
Sand puffs up behind you as you walk, the boots on your feet long discarded. You haven’t felt your toes in the sand for years; the right occasion never arose for such a thing. The grains burn the soles of your feet, but you take it in your stride. 
A rhino beetle scuttles along the forest's edge, its size much larger than you’ve seen. The sight of it should scare you, but all you can think of is how much Luffy would love it. 
You shed your disguise, the hat and sunglasses dropping to the ground when you reach the stem of the rose. Looking up, it’s taller than the highest building you’ve seen, and the thorns dotting the stem mimic steps that you could easily use. You got to grip onto the slick plant tissue, its fuzzy exterior tickling your palm. 
You hear your name from down the beach, urgency lacing their tone. Tugging your eyebrows together, you look down the coast, a group of people running after you. Fear pricks your skin, and you begin to climb, panic in your veins. 
Quickly, a voice whispers, he’s coming. 
You feel your foot slip as you frantically reach out for another thorn, your body falling backwards. No noise leaves your lips as you free-fall to the sand below. 
“Room.”
And then your feet are back on the sand, the grains uncomfortable. Blinking, you look around. “Law?” 
“What the hell were you doing?” 
You peer over at Robin and Usopp, shock evident on their faces. 
“What happened?” You ask, breathing heavily. 
“You were climbing that tree.”
You glance behind you, the rose still standing tall in the sunlight. “Rose.” 
“Whatever,” Law spits. “Are you okay?”
Still looking at the rose, you sigh. “I heard voices.” 
Usopp laughs nervously, turning around to head back to the bridge. “Okay, that’s my cue to leave.” 
“What were they saying?” Robin asks curiously. 
“He’s coming’.”
Law curses. “Doflamingo is on his way.”
“How’d you get that from that?” Usopp exclaims, eyes moving to the forest warily. “Does the forest speak?”
“Not quite,” Law studies you, and you wait to ask what he’s thinking. “Anyway, we’re dropping Caesar right there in ten minutes.” 
“So that’s it? She wanders off and nearly falls to her death from a giant rose, and we’re meant to act like everything’s fine?” 
“Yep.”
“I’m okay, Usopp. Truly.” Your friend sways on his feet, the lightheadedness of panic and disbelief catching up with him. 
“You two go hide somewhere,” Law regards Usopp and Robin. “Be ready to snipe if the situation calls for it.”
Robin takes off alone, leaving Usopp to complain as he follows. 
Law says your name. “Hide in the tree line. If he attacks, it’s you and me.”
You open your mouth, but the familiar ringing of Transponder Snail pins you in place. Who could possibly be calling at a time like this?
“Take my handcuffs off.” You forgot Caesar was here. The scientist has his head on a swivel, looking unsettled. 
“Shut up,” Law murmurs, fishing a baby Transponder Snail from his jacket. You swallow thickly before raising your eyes to the head of the rose again. 
Who was speaking to you before? How did they know Doflamingo was coming?
“Law! It’s Sanji.”
“Where’d you go? Please tell me you found the factory.” 
“It’s a trap! You gotta go right now!”
Your breath gets lodged in your throat, and your eyes widen. Looking out to the ocean, Dressrosa is in the distance, and you try to understand how this happened. 
“He’s still a Warlord! Right now, you’re handing over Caesar for nothing!” 
Law stills, his body tensing as he follows your line of vision. He eyes a speck flying through the sky, and he squints to decipher what it could be. 
You whimper, your body tingling with panic. “We need to leave. Right now.” 
Caesar breaks into a fit of giggles, and you feel your eye twitch. Expletives fall from Law’s lips before he tells you to run, recognising the pink coat of the man flying toward you. “Go, now!”
The flying figure approaches at an alarming rate, and you race for the trees, only to be pulled backward, your arms thrown behind you. 
There’s a rustling in the trees, but you ignore it, focusing on the tightening of the strings around your wrists. 
“Dreamweaver!” A voice announces. “I’ve been waiting for you.”
You struggle to look at what is restraining you, but from the sharp, cocky voice that echoes down the beach, you already know. Doflamingo hangs in the air; his arms outstretched with a Cheshire grin. 
“Joker!” Caesar yells with excitement. 
“Let go of her,” Law says, his gaze darkening when it lands on Doflamingo. “Now.” 
“And you got a Navy Admiral to show up? I’m impressed,” Doflamingo chuckles. You turn your head at an awkward angle to get a glimpse of the surprise arrival of the Marines, and you can tell Law is seething. “And since I’m no longer a Warlord, I’m shaking in my boots. I’m terrified!” 
“Fuck you,” Law bares his teeth. “You’re a damn liar.” 
You wriggle around on the sand, summoning Needles in an attempt to cut the strings. Tiny prickles cover your hands and forearms in rapid succession, and when Doflamingo opens his mouth to taunt Law again, you free yourself. 
Some Marines to your left are startled at your sudden movement, shocked to be in the presence of two Warlords and a pirate with a 650 million berry bounty. They quickly compose themselves, but the grips on their weapons are tighter than before. 
“Don’t touch me again,” You shout, hands positioned to summon your power if necessary. 
Doflamingo’s stare pins you in your place, and though you can’t see his eyes behind his sunglasses, you know he sports a wild gleam. 
“I’m having some trouble unravelling this situation,” A deep voice says. “I don’t have much experience as a Marine, so I don’t want to make any baseless accusations.” 
You falter, blinking in confusion. The Marines chatter amongst themselves as the Admiral at the head of the bunch finishes speaking. 
“Fujitora!” Doflamingo interjects. “You’re the famous Admiral who got recruited in the World Military Draft, weren’t you? I’ve heard you’re a force to be reckoned with.”
Fujitora brushes him off. “It seems to me, as Warlords, you’re both doing something that steps outside your boundaries. The fellow there referred to you as ‘Joker’... a troubling implication.”
Your steps are silent as you hurry through the sand, nobody paying much attention to you as Domflamingo’s grin turns dangerous. 
“I don’t care what you think about me. As for Law, other here, what will you do about him?”
Law’s eye catches you as you skirt around the back of the Marines’ group, darting his eyes back to Doflamingo so as not to raise suspicion. 
“If you’re referring to his alliance with the pirate Straw Hat, should he confirm this, he’s guilty. But what comes after that depends on his answer… betrayal of the World Government is a serious crime.” 
Caesar makes a strangled noise. “And what of her?” 
Fujitora raises an eyebrow. “I’m unsure I know who you’re referring to.” 
“That girl, the one with the Sew-Sew Fruit.” 
The Navy Admiral mutters your name. “I see. She’s a pirate, too, and with her strong ties to Straw Hat and Trafalgar Law, I see it fit that she should be arrested as well.” 
“That won’t do,” Doflamingo snaps. “She’s coming with me.” 
“Like hell!” Law yells as his calculated facade cracks. “She’s my subordinate.”
“So what will it be, Law?” Fujitora urges, drawing his sword. 
“It’s true! The Straw Hats and I are equal in this alliance!” 
You appear beside Law, the Marines’ looking back and forth to where you were and where you stand now. Doflamingo’s lip curls as he assesses the situation. 
Fujitora leans over, and a purple halo shoots into the sky without warning. You keep your eye on Doflamingo, not risking him moving any closer to you or Law. Caesar gasps, his face stricken with fear. 
The blue sky darkens to deep indigo like the sun has disappeared and night has fallen upon the world early. The tide recedes, and you spare a glance at the water. How odd. 
You ready yourself, feet shifting into a fighting stance and hands poised before you. 
“What is that?” 
Law’s shocked whisper pulls you from your concentration, and you look up. 
“Is that a meteor?” Caesar’s neck is craned back, and you nod. 
“What the—”
Frantic chatter and gasps sound from your left, and the Marines sprint for the tree line. 
“Your title has been revoked, Trafalgar Law.” 
A red hue covers the beach, and Law shoves your shoulder. “Go!”
The blazing rock inches closer, its speed never slowing. You don’t want to follow his demand, ever the stubborn mindset, but the pure fear on Law’s face forces you. 
“Room!” 
It’s quick, and you’re almost into the forest when Law slashes his katana, the monstrous rock splitting in half. One side heads directly for Domflamingo, who swipes his hand. You watch in horror as the rock splits again, this time into ten slices and then twenty. The segments crash into the sand, throwing him off his feet. 
You don’t see where the second half goes, but you guess toward Fujitora by the way the leaves surrounding you go purple. With your gaze on Law, you shout after him, but your voice is lost in the destruction. The aftermath of the impact sends you flying backward, Caesar and the Marines following. You throw your hands out, Sew multiplying at an alarming rate to form a net that catches everyone. 
Coughing through the dust, you emerge from the trees, only to be pulled back by a Marine. Before you is a giant pit that descends into the depths of the earth. It’s an unusual sight, but your heart rate increases exponentially when you think about Law’s whereabouts. 
“Where—”
“Look!”
So you do, and when the smoke clears, you feel your shoulders relax, but only slightly. Law, Doflamingo, and Fujitora stand on their own pillars of rock; the drop below them is endless. 
The men speak amongst themselves on the pillars, and you can’t make out what they’re saying. But, without warning, they all attack at once. Your mouth is dry with fear and apprehension, and you absentmindedly move your tongue to generate saliva. Though, it’s difficult with the dust and sand coating your throat. 
“He’s mine to kill!” Doflamingo cackles, pointing his finger at Law. You scowl and leap from the bushes, your feet sinking into the sand with every step. Law dodges at the last second, and whatever Doflamingo sends his way slices his cheek. Fujitora stands there unmoving, letting them fight.
Law sees your figure running from the trees and escapes from the pit, making his way toward you. “Run.”
Doflamingo follows, and you watch in horror as the pink man flies at you. 
“Law,” He sings, his attention snagged by your sudden attack. You fling a needle in his direction, its sharp tip barely missing his face. “Oh! Dreamweaver’s come out to play, too! How exciting.”
You sprint behind Law, weaving through the giant flora of Green Bit. Law tugs your hand, and you go crashing over a vine. Shambles catches you and keeps you on your toes. A quick zip goes past your ear, and you stagger. 
“Bullet strings,” Law explains, dodging said attack. You swallow thickly, the exhaustion eating at your muscles. “They’ll kill you if you’re not careful.” 
His breathing is ragged as he speaks, and you send a needle behind you, the dark chuckle of Doflamingo letting you know you missed—you won’t dare send him to Seam without knowing the full extent of his power; he’d most likely rip you to shreds. 
“I’ve been keeping a close eye on you, Dreamweaver.”
The nickname is still foreign to your ears. You don’t want to know what it means and why it’s the same as legends past. Law snarls at him, grabbing your wrist and transporting you further away. 
“If you join me, I’ll let your little Law go free, unharmed.” 
His voice gets closer every time Law puts more distance between you and Doflamingo. The offer is enticing only because Law’s safety is the only thing on your mind. As if reading your mind, Law tightens his grip on your wrist. 
“Don’t even think about it.”
There’s no time to dwell on the emotions that rise within you when Law flies forward, his body upside down as he slams into a tree. Almost invisible strings lace over his chest, torso, legs, and arms, and you spin around wildly to face the man responsible. 
Doflamingo slows, his shoes hitting the ground as he stalks toward you.
“No!” Law yells, his voice gruff as he fights against the restraints. “Don’t you dare touch her!”
The King of Dressrosa observes you, his head tilting as he scrutinises you. You stand your ground, protecting Law from the man who ruined his life. 
“Gorgeous thing you are, Dreamweaver… tragic that Law’s been keeping you hidden from me.”
You gulp silently but are unwavering. Doflamingo stops in front of you, his two-metre frame towering. You have to tilt your head back to look him directly in the eyes—though his sunglasses make it difficult to see where he’s looking. 
“Did Law ever tell you what you are?” 
“I don’t know!” Law’s voice is strained, the strings strengthening their hold. “I don’t know why everyone thinks I do!”
“Forget Law, you could’ve been a Warlord. And if you were feeling up to the task, maybe an Emperor.”
The titles he’s throwing at you mean nothing. “Leave us alone.” 
“Love has made you weak!” Doflamingo barks a laugh as he takes a step. He circles you, his gaze piercing. “Who knew that the one I sort was so… pathetic.”
“Fuck you,” You growl, watching him over your shoulder. He makes no move for Law but sighs, his pity palpable. 
“You could be a god.”
Your finger flicks and Doflamingo makes a sound of indignation as a needle pierces his side. “Stop saying that.” 
Turning around, you glower. Law’s expression is painted in surprise at how easily you attacked him, the needle deepening with every movement Doflamingo takes. Blood drips from the wound, and Law gasps. 
“Interesting,” Doflamingo regards the protruding needle, running his finger along its shining body. “Just as I expected.” 
Behind him, needles work to free Law, loosening the strings just enough so he can use shambles to transport to you. 
You ignore Doflamingo’s wondrous tone and continue to impale him. He grunts with each needle that sinks into his flesh, but his smile never lets up. 
“Dreamweaver,” He mutters, arms outstretched and Cheshire grin widening. He looks like a pincushion. “You are the only one who can defeat me.” 
Your power halts. Why would he say that when he’s at your mercy? When you could kill him here and now? Unless you can’t.  
You don’t say anything, knowing he’s toying with you. When you glance at the tree, Law’s gone, so you keep Doflamingo’s focus on you. 
“Come with me now,” He mutters, voice brutally low. “Or I’ll slice Law’s head clean off. I know he’s sneaking around here somewhere, and I won’t hesitate.” 
Your blood freezes in your arteries, and your body feels like it's in slow motion—deep in your soul, you know he’s not lying. He killed his own father and brother, and Trafalgar Law is no exception. 
“Fine. But stay away from Law.” 
“You’re aware of our history then? What’d he tell you about that traitor, Corazon?”
Silently, your hands return to your sides. You inhale deeply, calming your nerves. Law won’t forgive you for this, but you’d do anything to keep him safe. With your glare as sharp as a needle, you put your wrists together before you and shake them. “Take me away, then.”
Doflamingo smirks and cackles, the sharp sound echoing through the trees. Law freezes at the noise, knowing it can't mean anything good. With his heart in his throat, he transports himself to your location.
But when he arrives, Doflamingo is gone, and so are you. 
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dalishious · 2 months ago
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Teia and Viago Master Post
It seems my overwhelming love for Teia Cantori and Viago de Riva has garnered a reputation that I’m worth asking questions about them. I’m honoured! But I think it would be easier to just make a master post about them that I can direct to, so that’s what this is.
Appearances
Dragon Age: Deception (Teia and Viago appear as unnamed Crows. It is later confirmed in Tevinter Nights that it was them)
Dragon Age: Tevinter Nights; “Eight Little Talons”
Dragon Age: The Missing
Dragon Age: The Veilguard
Pre-DATV Events
9:44 – Teia and Viago are in Ventus when the Antaam attack.
Between 9:44 and 9:52 – The events of “Eight Little Talons” takes place. (Viago says they were “recently” in Ventus when the Qunari attacked, meaning it’s probably closer to 9:44.)
9:52 – Teia and Viago are in Vyrantium when the Antaam attack. They took a contract together to kill Lady Crysanthus, who was a member of the Venatori. They briefly run into Varric and Harding, who are following Solas’s trail.
Information on Teia
Teia’s full name is Andarateia Cantori. She is the head of House Cantori, which holds the seat of Seventh Talon. House Cantori’s territory is centred in Rialto.
Teia is 28 in “Eight Little Talons”. While we don’t know for sure when the story takes place, it is most likely around 9:45-9:46 based on context clues. If so, this would make Teia in her mid-30s during Dragon Age: The Veilguard.
Teia grew up on the streets of Antiva City with no family, surviving on thievery. She was taken by the Crows at age eight, and considers them her family now. (In “Eight Little Talons,” she reflects that she’s been a Crow for 20 years.)
Teia was the youngest Crow to gain the rank of Talon in history. She is also an outlier in that she does not come from a wealthy, prolific family background. This caused quite a controversy, where she was considered an “overreaching street rat;” while the Crows tell recruits that anyone can become a Talon, it very rarely happens.
Teia has her own set of rules to follow; for example, she refuses to kill servants unless absolutely necessary.
Teia’s best skill is being a master manipulator, with a level of astute observation in others that gives her an advantage in pretty much any conversation. She is very good at figuring out what to say and do in order to get the response she wants from someone.
Teia’s biggest flaw is, in my opinion, her naiveté. You could also say that the fact that she’s held onto strong morals and sensitivity to others is a strength, certainly. But the fact that she wants to see good in everyone, even people who arguably don’t give her any reason to, has gotten her into trouble.
Teia was in an abusive relationship in the past; Dante Balazar, who was Second Talon before his death in “Eight Little Talons”. Dante was addicted to lyrium, and would lash out at her verbally and physically. At some point Teia fought back and finally broke things off, while leaving a scar on his shoulder. Despite all this, Teia held sympathy for him.
Teia is afraid of dogs, after being chased by rabid ones on the streets as a little girl.
Teia has a tattoo marking her as a member of House Cantori on her back.
Teia’s horse is named Andoral (after the archdemon).
Teia has probably not been a Talon for very long; I would guess less than five years as of “Eight Little Talons.”
Information on Viago
Viago is the head of House de Riva, which holds the seat of Fifth Talon. House de Riva’s territory is centred in Salle.
We do not know Viago’s age for certain, but I would guess he’s in his mid-40s during Dragon Age: The Veilguard based on vibes and sensible timelines.
Viago is a master poisoner, and carries around plenty of it wherever he goes… as well as antidotes, because in addition to this, he is extremely paranoid about being poisoned himself. He does not eat or drink anything before testing it first, and he even takes a small dose of Adder’s Kiss every day to build up a resistance to it.
As one of many bastard children of the Antivan King, Viago was only given two choices in life: either live in luxurious exile, or join the Crows. He resents all his half-siblings who chose the first, and he resents the king himself. Viago may be more powerful than them all, even the king, but he is now stuck in this life. Had he not been, he thinks he could be a better ruler of Antiva.
Viago also holds resentment towards his mother, who it is hinted was an alcoholic to cope with the loss of interest from the King. Viago recalls her wine-stained “demon teeth” from when he was a child.
Viago does not give a shit if people like him or not; he only wants to be respected and feared. (Despite this, Teia tries to make the other Talons like him.) He is also used to having to constantly watch his back, and typically thinks the worst in people.
Viago tries to avoid emotional thinking, preferring hard facts and logic.
Viago has a pair of adder snakes he milks for venom. He also now has a third named Emil, choosing to keep the snake that bit and nearly killed him in “Eight Little Talons”.
Viago enjoys art collection.
My guess for how long Viago has been a Talon is somewhere around 10-15 years, based on vibes and timelines. I think he was fairly young himself when he succeeded his predecessor. I also think it’s entirely possible that the Antivan King arranged his rise to power, based on the comment in “Eight Little Talons” from Dante: “Your daddy will protect you.”
Dialogue
(I will add more as I hear it!)
Rook: The Cantori Diamond is your casino? The occupation hasn't closed your business?
Teia: Business may be down, but it isn't "my" casino to close.
Viago: An easy mistake to make. Isn't that right, Andarateia Cantori?
Teia: I am no landlord, and anyone who treats me as such shall be evicted.
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Rook: Are there many Crows like Jacobus?
Viago: We have many fledglings, but he is something of a prodigy. They tend to do very well, or very badly.
Teia: Not all things end with clarity, as you and I both know.
Viago: Fine. Endings are fuzzy. Starts are shocking. Middles... middles are worth lingering.
-
Teia: Fighting back suits you. Your tone has much improved since we last argued.
Viago: Excuse me. I wasn't aware it was my tone that was at issue.
Teia: That's all right, I'm sure you'll pay closer attention from now on.
Viago: See, this is why we split. And got back together. And split.
-
Teia: Fighting back, making our voices heard... this is feeling like old times. The good ones.
Viago: Thank you for the clarification.
Teia: I meant it.
Viago: So did I.
-
Rook: So you two are both Talons. Doesn't that make you rivals?
Viago: Rank in one area is rarely applicable to others. Which is to say, only a fool would try to impose rank on Teia.
Teia: Wise words from a sometimes fool.
Viago: A history I would wish on no one, lest they take it from me.
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Teia: Thank you for spurring this rebellion, Rook. It's good to see Viago energized.
Viago: When have I ever been not energized?
Teia: Certain mornings.
Viago: Only after certain evenings.
-
Rook: You two are confident we can take the Butcher when the time's right?
Viago: Ending one life is a punctuation. There is much more to be said first.
Teia: Let's not craft a treatise when a limerick can suffice.
Viago: And that is why your epitaphs are legendary.
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Viago: Have you been home in the last week?
Teia: I won't let the fledglings see the Diamond empty.
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Rook: The Cantori Diamond is your casino? The occupation hasn't closed your business?
Teia: Business may be down, but it isn't "my" casino to close.
Viago: An easy mistake to make. Isn't that right, Andarateia Cantori?
Teia: I am no landlord, and anyone who treats me as such shall be evicted.
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Teia: I told her their bickering was amateurish, and that they'd need to work much harder to argue as well as we do.
Viago: That was altogether the wrong message to take away from that.
Teia: I thought you enjoyed our little squabbles?
Viago: Among—and possibly overshadowed by—other things.
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Viago: Occupied! The insult of it!
Teia: It's more than insulting.
Viago: It's salt in the wound. And that is my purview.
-
Rook: Were either of you trained by Heir?
Viago: Not this one. Mine was… stern.
Teia: Mine spoke in the third person until you were skilled enough to be recognized as an equal.
Viago: Starting with grammatical murder. Fascinating.
-
Teia: You're tense. Is that a furrow on your troubled brow?
Viago: You like my furrow. Called it the thinking man's dimple.
Teia: Not in public, I don't.
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SOURCES:
Dragon Age: Deception
Dragon Age: Tevinter Nights
Dragon Age: The Missing
Dialogue between Teia and Viago (DATV)
Letter from Mistress Trella (DATV)
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ateliersss · 7 months ago
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Predator Masterlist
⇨ Want to join the tag list?
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Mi‘ytiar
The plots of the series as a whole and the individual oneshots are already in order regarding the timeline, but I would recommend to start with the series as that's where my journey with those characters started. Every work takes place in a mostly undetermined time apart as they are interconnected with each other.
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⇨ Downtime and a Bath Summary: Your mate returns from a hunt, in desperate need of a bath.
⇨ Bandaids and Kisses Summary: One part of motherhood seemed to be patching up your reckless pup after another adventure in the wild against his parents' wishes.
Blooming Family Series (Finished) ⇨ Part 1 — He Will Come Summary: You were caught three days after you and your son's arrival on earth by an organization called Project Stargazer. Now you both were treated like guinea pigs. No wonder, considering said son was a hybrid of human and Yautja. ⇨ Part 2 — He Is Here Summary: After Akail freed himself and then you from your captors, you both had only one thing on your mind — to return home where his father and your mate was waiting for you. ⇨ Part 3 — He Shan't Lose Summary: Mere two months ago, you had returned home after the incident on Earth. Now you were back, ready to indulge yourself and go on the weekly "date night" with your mate. If only your unborn pup had better timing… ⇨ Part 4 — He Shall Prevail Summary: In your past life on earth, when someone would ask you how you managed your job as a nurse with the occasional death of a mother during birth, you told them that you never took it too personal because you would never find yourself in their position. Then why were you now so adamant on giving your life for your pup? Edited: 24.08.2024 (only a few details that contradicted each other in the course of the fanfic)
⇨ Don't worry, only You and Him Summary: Waking up from the week of bed rest after giving birth, you hadn't expected how your eldest seemed to resent the newest addition to your family.
⇨ The Huntress Summary: It's the first time you and your mate go on a hunt after your pregnancy.
⇨ Oh, take me back to The Night we met Summary: 1936, eighty-eight years ago, you met him, the creature that changed your life in a way that goes beyond human imagination.
⇨ No Title Yet (in planning) Summary: Mi'ytiar's POV of Oh, take me back to The Night we met
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⇨ Main Masterlist
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koolades-world · 2 months ago
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do you think we'd be together in every life?
volume one: everyday life; lucifer
in which you and your lover are brought together over and over again no matter the timeline, no matter the circumstances
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"Lucifer, do you think we'd be together in every life?" You asked him.
"That's a silly question, my love. I'm sure of it." He responded.
...
You pulled up into the mostly empty parking lot in front of your work. You were excited for your first official day, despite having already spent a fair amount of time in your workspace, so you'd arrived early. A few others cars were sprinkled throughout the parking lot already. You gathered your bags, and headed into the building.
The first thing you did was drop everything off at your desk, and make sure you had everything you needed. Once that was set, you decided to head to the break room, and start the coffee pot for your coworkers.
The halls were empty, and most room lights were still off. While you were a bit too soon, that only gave yourself more time to prepare for the day. After all, elementary school started early, so you felt you should too. As a teacher, it was your duty.
When you entered the break room, it seemed as if someone had already been in there. The lights were on. A couple chairs were pulled out, and the coffee pot you'd intended to start was already ready. The fridge was also slightly ajar, so before you got yourself your morning coffee, you decided to shut it. What you weren't expecting, however, was to find a short, blond child staring up at you. He looked to be about eight or nine years old.
"Hi." You couldn't think of much else to say.
"Hello." He didn't move, but greeted you back.
"What are you doing in there?" You opened the door further to get a better look at him.
"It was too hot." He stated matter of factly. He glanced at you like you were interrupting something, and like he wanted nothing more than for you to leave him alone. You didn't know children could have a death glare that intense.
"It is warm in here." You nodded along with the child.
"My dad went to make it colder. He should be back soon." He picked up a random stick of butter that rested on a lower shelf of the fridge that had been in there for who knows how long, and looked at it. It seemed like he was doing everything he could to pretend you weren't there. You scrunched up your face, thinking. You believed the kid, but that didn't stop the situation from being odd.
"I'm back." The door to the break room opened, and you turned to meet the gaze of the most gorgeous man you'd ever seen in your life. He had dark hair, and intense red eyes. A pair of rectangular glasses sat on his nose, and wore a matching sweater vest. "Satan. Get out of the fridge." He sounded exasperated, but the young boy obeyed. He set the butter down back where he'd found it and shut the fridge door behind him.
"Hello! Nice to meet you. I assume this is your son?" You greeted the tall man happily.
"Yes. I'm sorry about him. I went to turn the AC on because he kept complaining about the heat." He let out a long sigh.
"I'm Mc, a new third grade teacher. This is my first day." You smiled pleasantly at him.
"Lucifer. Pleasure to be acquainted. I'm a junior high teacher. Seventh grade." He extended a hand to you. His nails were painted a messy, deep red. You took his hand, and shook it. His hands were freezing despite the room still being warm. "Satan. Introduce yourself. They're your teacher this year." Lucifer's words took you by surprise. He must've done his research.
"My name is Satan. My favorite animal is a cat, and my favorite color is green." He didn't move a muscle and stayed firmly planted beside his father.
"Satan..." Lucifer trailed off, tired.
"Well then, I'm Mx. Mc. I can't wait to get to know you this year! I love cats too. I have two at home." Satan's face lit up; a sharp contrast from the closed off kid you'd discovered in the fridge less than five minutes ago.
"Can I see pictures of them?" He stepped closer to you. his eyes sparkling.
"You can, but I left my phone in my classroom." You patted your pockets, realizing in your excitement, you'd left it in your bag.
"Dad. I'm going with them." The young boy less demanded, more stated a fact to his father.
"Are you alright with that? I'd hate to make you look after him for longer than you're supposed to." Lucifer asked.
"I don't mind at all! He can come pick his seat and help me do a little setting up." You were so excited that he'd warmed up to you. "Besides, it looks like you could use a break. You're much braver than me for handling middle school, and I imagine you need to time to prepare for the day, handsome." You patted his arm, and his tired expression morphed into one of surprise. He averted his eyes, seeming to want to look anywhere but your face, his ears tinged red.
"Thank you." He said. He picked up a cute little lunchbox and backpack from the corner of the room, and handed it to his son. "Have a good day. I'll see you this afternoon. I love you." He kissed the top of his head. Your heart melted at the affection he was showing Satan. Despite how exasperated he seemed with the boy, you could tell he loved him.
"Bye Dad." Satan's crooked smile was adorable. It was something you hadn't seen yet. He had a gap between his two front teeth that you would probably never forget.
"Ready?" You extended a hand to Satan.
"I'm ready to see pictures of your cats." Both you and Lucifer burst out laughing at his insistence. You waved to Lucifer, and he waved back. You looked forward to the end of the day, knowing you'd get to see him again.
The rest of the day flew by. Satan was very warm to you, but could've been nicer to his classmates. He almost made one boy cry, but he apologized, and seemed to become friends by the end of the day. Elementary ended before middle school, so you took it upon yourself to look after the boy until his dad was ready for him. You couldn't bring yourself to send him into a gaggle of middle schoolers.
So, when middle school finally let out, you gathered your things and walked Satan to Lucifer's classroom. Satan burst into the room, and hugged his dad. "Hi." Lucifer paused his cleaning up of the room.
"Before you ask, he was lovely to have as a student, and made some friends." You readjusted your bag on your shoulder.
"They have a black cat, and a gray cat." Rather than talk about his day, he told his dad about the conversation you'd had about your cats that morning. "We have to go meet them." Satan pointed at you.
"Satan, you can't just invite yourself over to other peoples home's." Lucifer, while he still seemed tired, sounded happy to be reunited with his child.
"I don't mind. If he does good in class, that is." You could tell he was a bright kid, and if that was the motivation he needed, you were more than happy to be that for him.
"I'll be the best then." Satan yelled. You began laughing again. You could already tell it was going to be a fun year.
"Then, it's a deal." You nodded. "Speaking of my cats, I need to get going home to them. I haven't left them alone for this long in a while."
"Bring new pictures of them tomorrow." His face was very serious, letting you know that he really wanted to see more of your cats.
"I can do that." You opened the door. "See you two then." You stepped out into the hall, but the door took it's time closing.
"We've talked about asking, rather then demanding things, bud." You heard Lucifer say.
"I'm doing you a favor. I'm helping you marry them." Satan stated that like it was common knowledge. Lucifer chocked on his words once he heard you laughing to yourself in the hallway. When the door finally shut itself, you could no longer hear the dynamic duo.
You gave what Satan said a little thought. You certainly wouldn't mind getting to know Lucifer better. While you knew not to get your hopes up, you had an odd feeling that you and that devilishly handsome man would get to know each other very well. You couldn't wait for tomorrow.
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aesteries · 3 months ago
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⋆✴︎˚。⋆ ─ ❝sweetling❞ ─ aemond targaryen and original female character. ❝alicent hightower's youngest daughter, haera targaryen, has returned to king's landing after eight long years in old town and aemond finds himself inexplicably drawn to the girl kissed by the moon and with the eyes that seem to only look at him.❞
how could i not love eyes that see me in all my forms as beautiful? 〔incest, innocence and fantasies, romance, smut, virginity, events of blood and cheese, family rivalry, disabled main character, hints of book!aemond, modified show!timeline and events.〕
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                 INTRODUCTION. 
Queen Alicent Hightower’s last pregnancy proved to be the most difficult out of all - unlike what the maester had predicted, she had been carrying a female babe during the pregnancy. She started her labors two moons before the estimated time since conception, bringing worries about her health and fearing this child lost. The young queen of twenty-and-two, already on her fourth birthing bed, spent numerous hours with a high fever while laboring, screaming in pain as the maester and maids were sent into a panicked frenzy when they found that the babe was being delivered feet-first with the threat of the umbilical cord somewhere around the body, possibly restricting in one way or another.
When informed, King Viserys was faced with the same decision that had taken the life of his first wife.
it was either his child or his child-wife.
The Hand of the King and father to the Queen Consort, Otto Hightower, advised the King to leave the matter of women in the hands of The Mother, though it is reported that he demanded to bar the doors to his daughter’s chambers in case someone dared to approach the said room, fearing The Stranger wearing an ally's face.
By the hour of the nightingale, when the day had begun to seep into the night sky, an experienced nurse grew tired of the uncertainty of the situation and grabbed the babe’s feet to drag its body out of the young queen in a last attempt to save both of their lives, a small rip to the queen’s body in sacrifice for the life of the child. The babe was awfully pale, even taking into consideration her Valyrian heritage, with hair as white as cotton, and eyelashes as translucent as a ray of moonlight but no sound coming from her parted lips. 
Otto Hightower sneered down at the silent child with obvious disdain while the old maester and his women rushed around the newborn, frantically trying to bring her back from The Stranger’s arms. The gender did not disappoint him as she had brought forth a daughter before, but it was the fact that she looked so different from her siblings that sent chills down his spine. She was different, and it was not acceptable for a daughter of the crown. They would whisper behind her back, just like Rhaenyra’s children, not for the truth of her heritage, but of the condition that shackled her future to uncertainty. Would this child be useful enough for a political alliance? or would other Lords reject the gift of the blood of the dragon in fear of the curse this child could bring to their House?
Alicent in a haze, still recovering from hours of childbirth, tiredly called out to The Mother for guidance and forgiveness, and in response, the babe let out a piercing cry as she drew her first breath, filling the birthing chamber with the sound of new life. Two of the Queen's children, Aemond and Helaena, were present to hear the ugly cries of the tiny princess.
The King named her Haera - after the stories of a forgotten Goddess of Old Valyria, who supposedly reigned over women and childbirth.
Life was an uphill battle for the young girl, as in her first few months of life, Princess Haera struggled to latch onto her mother’s breast or be comforted by a wet nurse, found it hard to sleep at night, and frequently suffered from delicate fevers that kept her young mother on edge. As her siblings had grown and developed, she found it increasingly difficult to keep pace with the milestones they had reached as she grew. They often found her crawling on her knees behind her siblings at an age where she should have been on her two feet.
The girl would be the first of Alicent and King Viserys’ union to have her dragon egg hatch in the cradle, a beautiful dragon of iridescent scales that was named Brightfyre, though Haera’s difficult life and condition seemed to have somehow infected her hatchling, as it found failure to thrive and passed in the young girl’s arms at the age of three. a sign, said one of the dragonkeepers, a sign of more tragedy to come.
Although from the same womb, her siblings did not find much in common with her, as she had spent most of her childhood in the safety of her bedchambers with maesters and nurses who would take care of her health. This limited her interaction with them and bound her to bed and her studies all day long. The only sibling who would constantly visit was Helaena, and even conversation with her proved difficult. Aegon was simply not interested in her existence and would even forget he had a second sister. To satisfy her curiosity and her need for adventure as the long days of sickness took over her childhood, she turned to books as companionship with her imagination being her only entertainment.
Aemond, the more emotional of the siblings and without anything to lose, would sometimes force himself to visit her during the late hours of the night, believing that it was what the young girl deserved. In a way, he avoided Aegon and their nephews’ teasing comments as he snuck around the castle to reach her chambers when everyone else had fallen asleep. Their talks would be short and very awkward, but she would be grateful nonetheless. Sometimes, he’d bring her books as she slept, and she would devour each one the next day. 
On the eve of her tenth nameday celebration, King Viserys decided that his youngest daughter, Haera, would join Lord Osmund Hightower in Oldtown to be cared for by the maesters of the Citadel, who would strive to find a cure for her so-called illness that had only progressed from birth, now threatening to take her vision from her. That day, almost a week after the announcement, Queen Alicent had to be supported by her maids as she watched her daughter be taken away from her at such a young age, tears rolling down her plump cheeks as she cried for her mother. 
Aemond did not feel the pain of her departure, somehow detaching himself from her, out of sight and out of mind. The remaining siblings watched from the top of their stairs as the carriage went out the gates and disappeared into the busy city.
Aemond suffered the loss of his eye in a fierce confrontation with his nephew, Lucerys Velaryon, a mere two moons after their separation. He would grow into a rough, seemingly emotionless man with no weakness, the memory of his younger sibling fading with time as the years went by without any contact whatsoever.
Now as adults, she returns. 
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ᡣ𐭩 ─ author's note ;
welcome to the sweetling universe! where instead of having daeron, alicent gave birth to another girl. i had planned to release this introduction as part of the first chapter, but it feels like it ruined the vibe in some way and i didn't really want to spend the first chapter building some backstory so the main character could be introduced so i thought a separate semi-chapter would fit better. i was trying to imitate maesters' writings in one way but of course i totally missed the mark.
haera targaryen is a character i have dreamed about so many times before, so i hope i can make her justice and write her just the way she is in my dreams. i have plenty of original characters created for my future fics, but she has her own special place in my heart for some reason, even if she's not my firstborn oc.
the ages are modified due to the nature of this story, and they are changed into this; aegon is twenty-two, as he is according to the books during the dance of the dragons. aemond is around twenty-one, helaena is nineteen, and Haera is eighteen years of age. jacaerys has been aged up to be around aemond's age, while lucerys is haera's age.
this story was originally a 'blink and you'll miss the plot' smut one-shot, but as haera came to be, i just had the desire to write more about her, so the mini-series was born. it won't be long, calculating about five chapters of 6k+ words each that won't go into the whole plot of the dance. it's taking place between season 1 and season 2, with different perspectives and more book!accurate characters.
that's it from me for now! before i continue rambling on. chapter one; Sunday 27th.
╰⪼ thank you for reading!
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sourholland · 1 year ago
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timeless; thomas shelby
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This idea has been plaguing my mind for days, I cannot get it out of my head. I’m not sure if I will make any more parts of this, it all depends on how I feel about it and if it is well received. The timeline of this is skewed on purpose, it’s also heavily based on Tommy’s time fighting during the war. Timeless by Taylor Swift was a huge inspiration.
Both you and Tommy became unlikely friends during childhood, only for you to realize you had always loved him. Tommy finds himself seeing you in a different light, only war being able to separate the two of you. (3.5k)
Thomas Shelby was the first and only boy you had ever loved.
It was 1902, Tommy was twelve years old. He played with your older brother, they went out into the street with the Shelby brothers and few other boys from the neighborhood and kicked a ball around. You were eight, trailing your brother Joseph at every chance you had.
When you met Tommy, it was because you had chased after your brother one August afternoon with the intention to join their game of kickball. The moment you approached the large group of prepubescent boys, Joseph looked absolutely mortified. Even though he was older than some of the boys, at fourteen, he still followed all of Tommy’s orders. This, you didn’t understand.
“Go home,” he leaned down to your level in gritted teeth.
“I just want to play, just one game,” you pleaded with him. “Please, Joey.”
“No,” he barked. “Y/N, you gotta get out of here.”
Feeling your face heat up, you were near tears and embarrassed in front of all of the older boys. Joseph would not let up, angry at you for trying to play with him and his friends.
“What the fuck d’she want?” Arthur bellowed towards your brother.
Peering over at him, you could tell that he was not very patient and was even older than Joseph. After Arthur had yelled, you turned back to go home. Hot tears spilled down your cheeks as you shuffled back to where you lived and went inside to play alone.
“Fuckin’ asshole is what you are,” Tommy shook his head a bit. “Game’s not fuckin’ hard or anythin’, Joe. She could have played.”
That was all they ever said again on the matter, your brother never brought it up to you that night and you never spoke of it to him. It wasn’t until later on that month that anyone had approached you about what happened that day in Small Heath.
You were sent out to pick up your mother’s cigarettes, dragging your feet along the dirt path with the coin in your hand. Every Wednesday, you made the same trek. Tommy Shelby came up on your right side as you walked one day, you saw a screwdriver sticking out of his pocket and nearly shuttered. The kids around the neighborhood spoke of him in hushed whispers, calling him a gypsy and saying he and his brothers carried razor blades around with them.
“You’re Joe’s sister, aren’t you?” He asked, peering over at you. “Tried to join in on a game a while back?”
“Yes,” you nodded. “I’m Y/N.”
He hummed in response, kicking dirt with his shoe as you both walked. He was much taller than you, though he was still quite narrow and scrawny. Truthfully, there was no denying that you had a little bit of a schoolgirl crush on him.
“Where’re you headed?” He finally spoke up.
“Grabbing my mum’s cigarettes,” you told him with a sigh. “She sends me out every week to pick some up.”
At the time, you had no clue why Tommy had followed you all the way to the shop and then walked you home. He never gave you any inclination either. Then, he did the same the next week. He came outside when you passed his house and you walked together. This occurred every week after the first.
Of course, you assumed this meant he liked you and this caused you to revel in the attention just a little. Tommy would talk to you about school and horses mostly, he was kind to you.
About six months after you and Tommy had developed this weekly routine, you mentioned something to your brother about it and he teased you about having a crush on Tommy. Making the mistake of saying he must’ve liked you back if he continued to walk along with you, Joseph was quite cruel in return.
“He doesn’t do it because he likes to,” Joseph laughed. “Father started pestering me to walk with you when he found out you were being picked on in school, bothered and such by the boys around. I started to give Tommy a bit of my allowance to walk with you so dad would finally get off my fucking back.”
You no longer walked to the shops on Wednesdays.
Tommy waited for you the next week, but you never left out front and began past his house. The week after, he did the same and you still did not come.
“Y/N!” Your mother’s voice came up the staircase on Thursday morning. “Come to the door.”
Tommy stood there in the walkway to your home, talking with your mother about something as you came down the steps. She left you to walk outside together and down the stairs into the street.
“You’re not getting your mum’s cigarettes anymore?” He asked you suddenly.
“No, I am,” you told him. “Just don’t want to walk with you anymore.”
He seemed taken aback by this, not used to the idea of you sticking your nose up at him and looking the other way when he tried to talk to you. Tommy knew you were smitten with him, he didn’t mind it. He thought you were nice enough, he liked to walk with you every week. He just didn’t see you the same way that you saw him, you were too young and too curious about certain things.
“Why’s that?” He shot back a little annoyed.
“Joey told me that he’s been paying you to do it, to make sure nobody messes with me.”
“And?” Tommy asked. “Doesn’t really fuckin’ matter if you ask me, whether he’s payin’ me or not.”
This made you roll your eyes, shaking your head at him and leaning against the brick of one of the alleyways you walked down. Tommy was confused as to why this bothered you so much, truthfully it didn’t really matter about the money to him. It helped him to buy cigarettes, that was all. He didn’t mind walking along with you, though. He would’ve done it without the payout.
“It matters to me,” you told him. “I don’t need looking after or anything like that.”
Turning on your heel, you thought that you’d been able to get the last word. Little did you know, nobody but Tommy got the last word. He only realized you had decided to go out on Saturdays, rather than Wednesdays. He told Joseph that he wouldn’t be requiring payment anymore and you walked in silence for over a month before you spoke to him on your walks again.
His stubbornness irked you, leaving you infuriatingly mad at his inability to leave you alone. Your cheeks went hot when he came around, stomach in knots whenever he would say your name.
Over the years, you had tried to shake your feelings for Tommy. This was mostly due to the fact that you had grown attached in a way that allowed you to call him a friend. By the time you were eleven, Tommy had taught you how to ride his horse. He spent an entire summer working with you. He was fifteen and definitely had plenty of better things to do, but he spent hours upon hours in the grueling sun with you.
“Tommy,” you said, laying sprawled out on a patch of grass one afternoon when you were thirteen and he was seventeen. “D’you want to come ‘round to mine for supper tonight? Mum asked me to invite you over.”
The last bit was a lie, you truly just wanted Tommy to join you. He inhaled shortly before propping himself up on his hand and looking over at you.
“Can’t tonight, m’sorry,” he apologized to you.
“Why not?” You asked curiously, assuming he’d saying something about having to be with his brothers or Polly.
“I’ve actually asked a girl out,” he confessed to you. “I’m planning to take her out tonight.”
This was one of the few times Tommy discussed his love life with you. Your friendship mostly consisted of doing other things, less intrusive things. He still really saw you as a younger sister type of figure in a way. He thoroughly enjoyed your company, but there was no denying his attraction to the girls he saw in school.
Once, Tommy told you about Arthur bringing home a prostitute. He didn’t tell you why he did it, or what they did. Only laughed it off, unbeknownst to him that you really didn’t know what a prostitute was. Joseph had called them whores, but you lived a rather sheltered lifestyle and none of the older people around you ever spoke about such things in front of you.
Tommy took girls out, he’d had several girlfriends as you approached your later teenage years. Your friendship, however, never faltered. When you were seventeen years old, you remember going out riding with him and telling him how you wanted to make something of yourself beyond what Small Heath had to offer. Planning to become a schoolteacher, Tommy had always admired this about you.
“Don’t you want to be something other than all this?” You asked him, alluding to the fact that he was growing more and more responsible for the Peaky Blinders. “I mean, I just wondered if you ever had other dreams.”
“I’d like to work with horses,” he told you quietly, running his hands over the mare’s mane.
“Why don’t you?” You questioned him. “I know you feel some sense of responsibility over your family, I think it’s one of your best traits. Don’t you ever want to just—I don’t know, live a less tormenting life?”
Tommy played with the reins, looking at you and shrugging. This was all he’d ever known, and all he would ever know. There was no Birmingham without Tommy Shelby, you knew it as well as anyone. It still hurt, though. Knowing he was playing with fire every day, testing God, as your mother had called it.
Once Tommy had grown more involved in the gang, your parents no longer allowed him to come over to the house. They detested you seeing him at all, your brother most of all. He settled quickly, marrying a woman and starting a family.
Tommy realized he loved you when he was twenty two years old. He’d known you for ten years, having called you his best friend for a decade. You were eighteen years old and had just begun training to become a teacher, you were commuting frequently and saw Tommy less and less.
It was that Christmas when you’d introduced him to the man you had been courting, his name was Michael. When he shook the man’s hand, Tommy felt something inside of him shift. Suddenly, you were no longer that little girl with scuffed shoes and long pigtails. He saw a young woman with ambition and heart, but you were no longer holding out for Tommy like you had for nearly ten years.
“The fuck is wrong with you?” Arthur came up and clapped Tommy on the back of the shoulder. “S’fucking Christmas and you’re really bringing my spirits down.”
Tommy said nothing, downing more whiskey as he watched Michael spin you around in a dance. You were in a fit of laughter, smiling at him adoringly.
“Be serious, brother,” Arthur sighed, drunk and wondering how Tommy could truly be as he was. “You can’t tell me that you’re sitting over here in the corner drinking away your sorrows because she’s brought along some bloke.”
“Fuck off, won’t you?” Tommy shot him a look.
“Unbelievable,” Arthur walked away laughing.
It was completely and utterly unbelievable, not only to Arthur, but to Tommy as well. He’d spent years with you, practically praying that you would find someone, anyone to avert your feelings too. As you grew older, you also were able to hide your feelings and emotions better in Tommy’s case.
He watched you the entire night, nodding a farewell when he noticed you trying to approach him. He had no intention of speaking to Michael again, for fear that he may be physically ill.
His hope that it was a passing courtship died with what looked to be your close friendship. The two of you hardly saw each other anymore, animosity forming between you after the night of the Christmas party.
Months later, Tommy found himself at your apartment door when Ada had told him that you mentioned thinking Michael was planning to propose. He left to see you after midnight, walking the entire distance to where you lived and putting himself at your front door well past one in the morning.
“Y/N,” he called out as he knocked. “It’s Tommy.”
Opening the door, you were only left in your nightdress. Your hair was down completely, something Tommy had not seen since you were some years younger. He could not help but to notice the sheer material of the fabric, the buds of your nipples showing through.
“Tommy?” You yawned. “What’re you doing here?”
“I needed to talk to you,” he told you.
“Now? It’s the middle of the night.”
Ushering him in, you let him shut the door behind him and tried to rub the sleep out of your eyes. Tommy felt himself growing hard, looking at you in such a state.
“Y/N, don’t marry him,” Tommy blurted out in almost a whisper.
“What?” You looked at him, shocked. “What did you say?”
“Don’t marry him, don’t marry Michael.”
There was a stillness to the room, a silence that made you almost sick. His face was somehow stoic, but pleading at the same time. His eyes bored into your own, as if they were making it impossible to get a word out.
“He is a good man, Tommy,” you said. “He wants to take care of me, to make me happy.”
“With plenty of money and security, with a practical occupation and a good legacy to leave your children?” Tommy asked, sarcasm incredibly evident.
“Yes, Tommy. Fuck, I mean is that what you want me to say? That he can give me a good life? Why should it matter if he’s got money?”
“It shouldn’t, not if you love him,” Tommy told you. “Do you?”
It felt as if you were eight years old again, confronting Tommy about why he was walking with you in the first place. He looked at you with such yearning, such longing. It was as if he was begging you not to say yes, pleading with you not to have already devoted your heart to this man.
There was only one truth of the matter. Thomas Shelby was the only man that you had ever loved.
“Tommy, I have only ever loved you since I was eight years old,” you whispered.
As if unable to hold back any longer, Tommy embraced you fully and brought you into his arms. He kissed you furiously, without any doubt or question that you were meant for him. He let his hands run up and down your back and pulled you into his body.
Before you gave into your urge to let him rip your sheer nightdress off of you, you pulled away with swollen lips and eyes full of desire. This was not right, not until you spoke to Michael. Regardless of how you felt for Tommy, you could not do this to Michael.
“Not yet,” you whispered. “I gave a man my word, I need to speak to him before I can go any further here.”
Tommy respected your choice, he knew you wouldn’t want disloyalty on your conscience. He just nodded his head and placed a hand on your cheek gently, it was in these moments that he forgot about everything else.
Michael didn’t take the news very well at all, his ego was bruised and he pleaded for you to reconsider. He told you how deeply he loved you and how you had led him on, making him believe that you two would have a life together. He was right, you had encouraged him in all of his dreams of your future and you had done it without ever considering how it may end. It was selfish.
It took you weeks before you agreed to see Tommy again after Michael had left you feeling so guilty. Nights of tireless sleep, you would look up at the sky and pray to god that you were making the right decisions.
Over a year into your training, you would soon be able to do what you’d always dreamt of. Dark times approached, though. There were ghosts of whispers at every street corner, they spoke of war so feverishly. It was as if death was due to knock at the doors of families, stripping women of their husbands and children of their fathers.
The thought of this had left Tommy quite stoic most of the time, he held a monotonous view on the entire matter. Every time you had brought it up to him, he told you how he would be expected to fight on behalf of his country if it came down to it.
And so he did, when it came down to it and Britain had joined the War—The Shelby brothers and hundreds of other men in Small Heath joined as well.
“Tommy,” I sniffled as I watched him from across his bedroom pack a small bag of things. “I need you to promise me that you’ll come home, that you won’t die out there. They’re saying things about trench warfare, it’s all really terrifying—”
Tommy crossed the room and took your face in his hands, kissing you hard on the lips, as if it was the last time he would ever do so. A piece of you wondered if he believed that he would die out there.
“Please come home,” you breathed.
“I will come home,” he kissed you again. “I promise you.”
You planned to hold him to this promise. Having waited ten years for Tommy Shelby, you would wait however long more so long as he would come home to you.
It took two months before his first letter would come after you watched him depart on that large ship. Long months of kneeling at the foot of your bed, begging god not to take Tommy. Everything that was being said about the war was absolutely tragic, soldiers being blown to pieces or rotting below the earth in the trenches.
My Dearest Y/N,
I wish I was able to write to you sooner, I cannot say where I am for the risk of interception. Just know that I have never been in such conditions in my life, I spend my days underground. I have taken the role of a tunneler. Trench warfare has not been good to any of us, I find myself fantasizing of the end of this long hell.
I stare at your picture every night before I shut my eyes, dreaming of what it would be like beside you. There is no greater sorrow to me than your absence from my life at this point in time. I can only hope that it will not be for long.
Not long ago, myself and a group of men were gassed. I watched a fellow soldier go blind for nearly three days before he finally came out of it, only with some permanent damage. There are times when I have thought to myself, ‘Perhaps if I was hit, it would not be so bad. Perhaps even death is better than fighting in this war’.
Then I think of you. I think of the promises I made to you before I left to fight in this god awful war. I cannot understand how men are expected to live like this, nor how we will continue on. I was up to my knees in water last week, the trenches dark and desolate as we waited for the storm to pass. There is so much waiting these days.
I look forward to your letter.
With all of my love,
Tommy Shelby
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vidalswife · 4 months ago
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The Raven & The Witch
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Word Count: 2,104
pairing: agatha harkness/rio vidal, salem timeline.
Summary: A young witch is a witch alone, the journey to power is a long one, and many fear what they do not understand. Agatha Harkness is a witch many fear. Only at eighteen did she make her mark, and in-grave her reputation on those of the world. She was outcast, isolated, and ostracized. A young witch with no friends, no family, meets a girl in the woods as she attempts to discover the secret of a raven, which has been tailing her for months.
author's note: as the days have been passing, ive been wondering on agatha and rio's past. when rio said, "how long has it been agatha" followed by, "since you got your hands on the darkhold and hid behind all that dark magic?" it started to make me think about their past. so im writing rio and agatha in salem, depicting a young (not underage) love, and how it lead to their current hatred of one another. im estimating the length of this fanfiction to be up to eight chapters. there will be smut within the fanfiction however there is none in this first chapter. minors, DNI. i hope you guys enjoy it! <3
When a young witch turns eighteen, she is allowed into the Witch’s Ward. The Ward is not a simple place, it is a maze inside of an enchanted library, and it leads to the ancient books of magic that fuel a witch and her knowledge. In a single pre-established coven there must only be one witch permitted per the year, and as the case with most covens are, they usually have more than one witch whom on her eighteenth birthday is ready to ascend. The maze inside of this ancient institution is most known for its merciless challenges and low survival rate. Sometimes three, maybe four witch-kin will enter, and none will return. Other times, many will enter, and only the one will return. Once a witch survives The Ward, she no longer will face challenges within it, and it will be open with all of its knowledge to any that can survive. Witches of all kinds dream of beating The Ward, but few have actually done so.
There is a tale of a young witch, bright for her age, and powerful among her coven. She was the sole victor of the maze.. at least for a moment. You see, soon after she emerged victorious from the race into Coventry, another witch surfaced. The established coven had never heard of this happening before, so they did the best they could to determine a new admission. They deemed the witch with the least injuries the strongest, and decided that she would be their new sister, but what was to be left of the other witch? She had survived as well, but they could not push back her entry for another year, there were more witches who would grow and age. The answer came to the coven just as quickly as they had decided their winner. On one formidable and dark night, the young witch who had suffered most, filled with vengeance and hatred, did not let her adversary achieve victory over her, taking the matters of ascension into her own, corrupt hands.
By the morning, the witch who was deemed the weakest emerged as part of her coven, with the other young girl gone, and never seen again. For many years the sisters searched for her, or a sign that she had been alive, but there was no sign. The weaker witch became one of great renown, a symbol of darkness, of all that a witch should try not to be. Witches around the world thought her a witch killer, a murderer, and a maniac. They ostracized her, abandoned her, and ran in fear from her. The coven’s leadership couldn’t bear to outcast or kill the witch, as she was the daughter of their most honored, and were not entirely sure what had happened that night. So, they instead ignored her. It was a lonely road for a witch all alone, until of course, she wasn’t alone.
_______________________
Agatha woke with the sun, its immense warmth flowing through the unshaded window of her chamber. Her body squirmed and began to stretch, as her eyes fluttered open. Her hair was a disheveled mess, and she wore only her undergarments. Her room was quite empty, except for some books and a small wardrobe.
She looked around in disappointment at her stockhouse, a subtle sigh escaping her lips. She was no stranger to loneliness, for the last year she had been the outcast of her coven, and witches alike. They all thought her a monster, but they didn’t know. They’d never want to know the truth, and she’d never tell them. If she were to be believed a witch killer, she would be deemed so.
But of course, it was hard on a young girl to face isolation, so inside, she burned, and faded. More and more with each day the young brunette found herself tempted to fall away from witchkind.
She would follow the same routines, waking with the early morning light, looking around her depressing chambers, dressing, dining, being avoided, attending the ward for a lesson, dining, undressing, and then falling to slumber with the rise of the moon. She never dared try anything new, not until she saw the raven atop the chimney of her mother’s station. It was a small, dark creature, but the longer she stared, the longer something seemed different. The laughter of young children skewed her mind away from the animal, as she watched them play with the witches her age. She scoffed, turning in the opposite direction, and retreating to her chambers. She didn’t notice that the raven watched her as she paced away.
The next few days were the same as always, wake, dress, dine, shun, lesson, dine, undress, and slumber, except the raven seemed to follow her. At first she was unsure if it was the same winged animal as before, but its brown, humanlike eyes were impossible to mistake. It followed her into the next week, and it began to arise anger in the witch. What bird dares mock her? What creature dares to follow and disturb her?
The raven became a symbol of frustration for Agatha, a reminder that she was alone and peculiar.
It followed her for months, brown eyes staring into her soul at every chance.
On the eve of her birthday, she decided that she had enough of the raven and it’s foolishness. She would get rid of it for good, and finally be at peace, without those beautiful brown eyes watching her at every turn. She waited inside her chambers, eyes glued to the raven which stood motionless across from her abode. It for once, did not have her in its eyesight, and she reveled in the fact that she would finally outsmart the desperate creature. The bird rose from its spot, flying off into the treeline. Agatha thought it odd the raven did not watch her on this night as it did many nights before, but she was too overcome with pride to think it anything but a coincidence.
The next morning, she woke with the sun, a warm smile entrancing her lips. Today she would conquer the raven, and then, maybe things could be different for her. She reached for the woven bag that lay atop her wardrobe, placing her spellbook within it. She wanted to be prepared for her battle with the bird. Knowing that the forest was typically warmer in the spring months, she dressed in a thinner fabriced skirt that surpassed her ankles and a white long-sleeved button down blouse. She did not wear shoes, as it was un-witchlike to walk in a forest unless barefoot. Her dressing may be looked down upon, seeing as she was expected to a lesson later that afternoon and may not have time to redress, but she must be comfortable when she faces her opponent. As the bell sounded to commence dining, she set off towards the treeline, her woven bag thrown over her shoulder, and her hair free to the wind.
As she met the entrance of the forest, she looked up to the height of the trees, wondering if she would find the raven in its nest. Agatha turned her head, making sure her coven could not see her. When she deemed it clear, she stepped into the everlasting ecosystem of trees, bushes, and plants.
Her plan was clear, she would track the raven, kill it, and then return to her lesson. The brunette looked around before slipping her bag from her shoulder. She pulled from it her spellbook, opening it to the page illuminated by a string between parchment. On the page was an incantation that was supposed to help her find the bird. Agatha read it over multiple times, memorizing the pronunciation and chant of the spell.
‘Venator factus est venatus, anhelitus invenias quo capis, et te ad raptorem capias’
With a deep breath, she looked ahead to the ensemble of green and then closed her eyes as she began to recite the incantation, “Venator factus est venatus, anhelitus invenias quo capis, et te ad raptorem capias.” She inhaled, repeating, “Venator factus est venatus, anhelitus invenias quo capis, et te ad raptorem capias.”
A warmth spread in her body, and she opened her eyes, in which a flash of purple was clear. She knew the spell had worked. Almost immediately, a path was found. It had no markers, yet Agatha knew exactly where to go. She wrapped around trees and boulders, stepped over a fallen greenery, and walked up a short incline in the terrain. She focused only on the raven, her mind filled with nothing but the image of its obnoxious brown eyes.
The spell led her to a creek. It was dark, and looked green from the reflection of the treetops, but not only that, there was another person. She was floating in the water with her eyes closed. Agatha noticed her hair floating atop the water’s surface, almost depicting a root-like symbol. Her eyes trailed down to her face, she looked angelic and not only that, she looked asleep.
That wasn’t the only thing she noticed about the other. Her body was uncovered, and she was naked. Lily pads covered her breasts, and the water was far too dark to see much else. This sent a rising heat to the brunette’s cheeks, and she was sure they were red. The witch contemplated leaving and acting as if she didn’t see a thing in the woods, but it was too late. Almost as soon as she began to think such a thing, the woman in the water spoke.
“Enjoying the view?”
Agatha’s cheeks were as hot as the sun, she couldn’t move anything in the moment. Her brow furrowed as she noticed how the woman’s eyes remained closed, begging the question of how she knew of her presence.
The stranger chuckled, and Agatha debated casting a spell on her. Something about the woman felt familiar, she couldn't place what, but she could feel that this was not their first encounter. Agatha began to speak, sighing as the words came out, “I was just looking for a raven— and you happened to be in my way.”
She took note of how the stranger’s lips curled in a smirk, and how her brow furrowed, “Looking for a raven? How come?”
Agatha realized she probably sounded crazy, and she felt a need to explain. “I’ve been tracking this bird– it won't stop following me, and my spell led me to you” in almost an instant, the witch’s hand flew atop her mouth. She realized her mistake and looked at the woman in the water with ferocious, squinted eyes. She didn’t know what to say, but she hoped the stranger would deem her insane and drop the interaction.
To the brunette’s surprise, she didn’t.
Instead, she watched as the woman opened her eyes and stood in the creek. The lily pads fell from her nipples and she stood in front of the witch completely naked, water dripping down her neck, breasts, and stomach. Yet, this wasn’t what Agatha was most concerned with, instead, it was her eyes. They were brown and beautiful, like the raven’s. In fact, Agatha was sure her eyes were the same as the raven’s.
The brunette’s eyes remained locked onto the brown eyed girl. They did not falter not once, not even as the stranger began to rise from the water and inch closer to Agatha.
They were only a breath apart, the woman’s eyes still captured by the other pair. Agatha spoke, aware of their closeness, “You’re—” but she was cut off.
The stranger’s lips were on hers, and she cupped her hand on the witch’s cheek. Those beautiful brown eyes disappeared behind her eyelids, and so Agatha’s eyes shut too. She hesitated at first, but as the time grew, she became filled with hunger and desire.
Their lips clashed together and the woman’s other hand was now wrapped around Agatha’s waist. The witch’s hands wrapped around her neck, one ending up buried in her wet hair.
They only parted when their lungs couldn’t deny the need for air anymore, and when they did, their eye contact resumed as if it never faded. Agatha only stared at the woman in shock, but then, she smirked.
“I knew you’d come, Agatha” she said, which resulted in a head tilt from the witch.
“Who are you?” she asked, biting her lip as her eyes trailed from the stranger’s eyes to her perfect figure.
“I’m Rio Vidal.”
Agatha smirked, crossing her arms.
“You’re a green witch, aren’t you?”
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lvis44 · 5 months ago
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Sweet Escape - Wedding Pt. 2 // LH44
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Lewis Hamilton x Y/N
Warnings: Language, Alcohol Consumption, Angst, Anxiety
Word Count: 5.4k
Summary: Paradise is supposed to be fun and relaxing... a Sweet Escape, but when unspoken feelings and jealousy rise to the surface, everything can be turned upside down in the blink of an eye.
Notes: The second part of our wedding... I was reading my doc and figured this part was solid enough to be put into the universe lol. More to come but, once again, I do not know the timeline. I hope this holds you guys enjoy and this holds you over in the meantime! *insert Lil Wayne - Sorry 4 The Wait - here*. I've said it a million times and I will say it a million more, I cannot get my brain to stay in one tense while writing so ignore it the best you can lol. I LOVE YOU GUYS!
I am not a professional writer and all of this is a work of fiction and is strictly for fun. Enjoy! xxx
Previous Sections: Prologue - Part One - Part Two - Part Three - Part Four - Part Five - Part Six - Part Seven - Part Eight - Epilogue - The Wedding Pt.1
You’re not sure how long you’ve been staring at the dark ceiling when you hear your phone start to vibrate on the side table, causing you to groan. Just because your nerves are keeping you awake doesn’t mean you want to talk to anyone. When you see his name flash across your screen your first reaction is to laugh at his insistence but quickly anxiety washes over you. Every possible thing that could be wrong flashing through your mind as you answer his call.
“Lew?” You croak out, your voice dry in your throat.
“Hey. Shit, I didn’t wake you did I? Just needed to hear your voice and this can’t possibly count as me seeing you before the wedding.” He’s quiet on the other end, probably trying not to wake Miles in the other room.
“No, can’t sleep.” You admit. You’ve thought a few times throughout the night that you should have given in and let him hold you tonight, knowing you more than likely already would have fallen asleep.
“Neither can I, my nerves are going crazy.” He sounds vulnerable and you can’t help but worry.
“Not backing out on me, are you?” You attempt to joke, even though the anxiety is real.
“What? No, baby, never.” He laughs at the absurdity of your question, making you feel that much better, “No, I’m just stressing over the whole thing. Thinking maybe we should have just run away and eloped.”
“We still can.” You giggle, knowing he’s joking but understanding the feeling.
He joins you in your laughter before falling silent. You know he’s too deep in his own thoughts so you let him settle on what he wants to say.
“I’m just worried something will go wrong like the catering will be shit or the decorations won’t be right. I don’t know, I just need it to be perfect for you. Perfect for us.” He finally shares, his voice is tired.
“Lew, the only thing that could possibly ruin tomorrow is if for some reason we legally can’t get married. Even if we end up in a courthouse, I’m ending the day as your wife. Everything else is just an excuse for us to throw a kick ass party.” You try your best to assure him.
His laugh comes through the phone before he lets out a sigh, “You’re right, nothing else matters. This is why I’m marrying you ya’ know.”
“Why? Because I would have said yes even if you proposed with a ring pop?” You tease him, your smile spreading across your face.
“Well that,” He laughs, “but also because with two sentences from you, I’ve felt calmer than I’ve felt since the second I got here to the hotel. You always manage to make everything seem okay and truth be told as long as I have you, it is.”
His words hit you deep, knowing how much he means them.
“You know you’re supposed to save the vows for later, right?” You joke, trying not to choke up, knowing if you’re too sincere with him right now you will end up in tears.
“I love you Y/N.” He says simply, aware you're trying not to get too emotional.
“I love you Lewis. You wanna stay on the phone?” It’s something you’ve done many times while he’s been away and the distance has gotten to be too much. You barely talk, just content in the sound of each other's breathing and the rustle of the others sheets.
“If you don’t mind?” He sounds nervous again, like he feels like he’s asking too much of you.
“Always. Good night Lew, I love you.” You say quietly, settling back into your bed.
“I love you baby.”
You don’t say another word, both falling asleep quickly after your chat. The comfort of each other being all you needed to truly relax.
* * *
Charlotte's soft voice ringing through the room is the first thing you hear as you try to adjust to being awake. The second you start to come into yourself, the nerves come flooding in.
“You didn’t hear a word I just said, did you?” Charlotte is laughing as you sit up in bed. Your phone is still sitting on top of the comforter next to you, the call now having ended. You can only assume Lewis is already awake and getting ready or his phone died. You can’t help but smile at the memory of your conversation last night, both of you needing a moment of solace within the other.
“What?” You ask groggily, attempting to wipe the sleep from your eyes.
“Well, to start I said Good Morning Ms. Soon to be Hamilton,” She started, her voice much too loud before realizing and quieting right down, “then I told you that hair and makeup are on their way to the venue and the car will be here in about an hour.”
You raised your eyebrows at her as she sat down on the bed.
“I know, I should have woken you up earlier but I heard you talking in here at almost three in the morning, I assume with Lewis, and I wanted you to get some sleep,” She explains softly, putting her hand up to stop you as you go to respond, “there’s a light breakfast here if you want some, but you have plenty of time to shower and grab some food. If you don’t eat now, I’ve already scheduled some food for you at the venue that you can eat while they're doing your hair before you get your makeup done.”
You let out a sigh, thankful that she has thought ahead, you go to thank her but she starts again.
“I’ve already confirmed with four different people at the venue that your dress is there, hair and makeup has a place to set up, your room is on the other side of the building from Lewis so you won’t run into him, and all of the decorations have arrived and are being set up. The only thing you have to do today is let us take care of you, know that Miles and I have everything under control, and get married!” She finishes her spiel with a smirk, knowing that everything she just covered were concerns running through your mind, always proving even further why she was your Maid of Honor.
“Thank you, you are an absolute angel.” You say as you grab her hand.
“I do have to ask, just being nosy,” She starts, laughing gently, “was it Lewis on the phone last night?”
You feel yourself blushing unnecessarily, there being no reason to be embarrassed for talking to the man you are about to marry.
“Yeah, neither of us could sleep, just needed to talk to each other for a second.” You say sheepishly.
“And that right there is why you two are getting married today baby!” She says enthusiastically, once again much louder than you would prefer for the time of day.
“I’m gonna take a shower,” You tell her as you push yourself out of bed, feeling your stomach growl, “food will be there for me?”
She laughs at your need to double check before nodding, “Yes there will, I heard that, you need some food.”
“Leave me alone.” You grumble, laughing softly to yourself too as you stumble to the bathroom.
“You’ve got an hour, let me know if you need anything.” You hear her yell as she makes her way out of your bedroom to let you shower in peace.
It feels like you’ve entered an alternate universe once you are out of the shower. You ended up taking longer than anticipated and were being rushed to get dressed before ushered downstairs and into the back of another town car. Charlotte had a small bag packed for you and said she would take care of your luggage that was still in the room after the wedding, keeping the suite for the bridal party to stay in after the event. 
Your jaw almost dropped when the car finally pulled into the venue. You had been there before, a few times actually, over the last two summer breaks with Lewis, trying to finally decide. But now… now it was snowing, a winter wonderland surrounding the manor that had been deemed a castle by almost everyone around you and you couldn’t help but agree. A castle had been a dream of yours as a kid but never something you found realistic as an adult, safe to say realistic wasn’t in Lewis’ vocabulary when it came to your wedding. You had been watching Downton Abbey for the third time one night and made an offhand joke to Lewis about how you should get married at Highclere Castle, from then on he had made it his mission to find something that fit the bill. His first thought had been the castle itself but it hadn’t been an option, instead he found a place just outside of London that you had never heard of, something your wedding planner had never even seen, it was perfect. It was large and regal but still fit with both of your styles, allowing it to be decorated with a fine line of modernity and tradition. 
When you pulled up to the front door it looked as though you had stepped into a movie, the snow painting the perfect backdrop despite your hesitance. You hadn’t been sure about a winter wedding but Lewis was impatient and winter was his favorite season. He had done so much of what you had dreamed of that you couldn’t help but agree, knowing it didn’t matter when or where you got married, as long as it ended with him.
Charlotte was quickly ushering you and your mother inside and out of the cold. The entrance was bustling with people moving flower arrangements, chairs, tables, everything you had asked for being set up right in front of your eyes. Charlotte was pulling you down the hallway to your left before you had a chance to even take it all in.
“I’m sorry, I know I’m rushing around but you can relax the second we get you into the bridal suite. I promise.” She was apologizing from in front of you while you tried to keep up with her brisk pace, your mom close behind you.
“Are we late?” You couldn’t help but ask, feeling nervous all over again.
“No , we’re perfectly on time, but the damn men are early and I will be damned if Lewis wins and sees you before you’re at the altar.” Her voice is serious and you can’t help but laugh out loud. It truly isn’t that big of a deal to you but the moment you mentioned it being part of the plan Charlotte and Miles made it their top priority for the day of the wedding.
“It’s really not that big of a deal.” You continue to laugh at Charlotte as she slows down once you’ve reached the doors of the suite. Secretly you wouldn’t mind a quick hello, or even just a glimpse at his beautiful face, but she was determined.
“It’s part of the plan therefore we will be sticking to it, everything will be exactly how you want it today.” Her voice is stern before she opens the door to the suite and welcomes you in.
You’re immediately welcomed by the crew you had hired to take care of everyones hair and makeup. You had spent a while choosing the perfect team and had been in touch with them frequently over the last few months and the familiar faces made you excited. Charlotte tells you to take a seat on the plush couch off to the side and makes her way over to talk with the crew, making sure everything is taken care of for you. Your mom comes to join you on the couch, mimosas in hand with a shocked look on her face, acting as if she doesn’t know where they came from. You giggle as you happily take one from her hand while someone sets food on the small table in front of you, immediately reminding you of how hungry you were back at the hotel.
“You should have something to eat, even if it’s just a nibble. You have some time before you need to start getting ready.” Your mom tells you softly, gesturing towards the spread sitting in front of you.
You nod, leaning forward to grab a pastry as you watch Charlotte in amusement, animated as ever while she gets everyone and everything organized. You take a moment to sit in silence, well as silent as it can be with people bustling about, letting yourself take it all in. You continue to eat as much as you feel you can keep down before someone is suggesting you get in your robe. When you come back from the changing room there are many more people in the room, everyone finally arrived and ready to get ready. You had decided to keep the wedding parties small on both sides. You had Charlotte as your maid of honor, your cousin who had become a sister to you over the years, and your childhood best friend. Miles was Lewis’ best man, Nicolas, and Daniel. Your mom was getting ready with you as well as Linda, Carmen and Lewis’ sisters.
As you sat in the chair watching your hair transform, joking and laughing with your stylist Javier, you took in the sight around you through the mirror. Both families and friends blending into one big happy group, laughing together and sharing mimosas. You were thrilled at the thought of everyone becoming one large family, beyond excited for the next chapter of your life.
“Ladies! I need to say something before everyone starts with their makeup,” Charlottes voice commanded the room getting everyone's attention, “thank you! Okay, I just need to start by saying Y/N, I love you so much and I am so beyond thrilled that you are marrying my second best friend,” she sends you a wink as you both laugh with Lewis not even in the room to defend his decade long friendship, “he is like a brother to me and you very quickly became my little sister. That being said, I want to stress to every one that today is supposed to be perfect and WE are going to make sure it is,” her words are firm as she gestures around the room to your bridesmaids, “these two mean the absolute world to me and after everything it took to get them to this point I will not settle for ‘okay’, we’re looking for perfection.”
“Char, it’s-” You try to stop her, feeling like she’s making far too big a deal out of your day.
“Nope, Y/N, let me say this, you deserve it.” She shushes you before continuing, “I want everyone to have an absolute blast but most importantly I NEED Y/N and Lewis to have the best day of their lives. Annoying guest? Figure it out. Issue with the rings? Find me or Miles. Trouble with your dress? Suck it up, today isn’t about us.” Her voice is that of a strict teacher as she lectures your family and friends and you can’t help but roll your eyes and laugh before the comment about the rings latches on to your brain, “Y/N, babe, I love you so much and I am so happy for you. You are marrying the best human I know, well second to you of course, and I cannot wait to see the life that you two create together, I know it will be magical. Cheers everybody!”
You barely even register the sweet words she directs at you as she finishes her speech, your body working on auto pilot to raise you mimosa for her toast. The moment she sees the look on your face she’s rushing over to you.
“Hon, what’s wrong? You look worried.”
“What’s wrong with the rings? They’re here, right? They look correct? Nothing’s broken? You said there’s a problem with the rings, what's the problem?” You rush out your new concerns, not taking a moment to think once she’s in front of you.
“What? No, no, everything’s fine. Why would there be a problem with the rings?” She asks you confused for a moment before the realization dawns on her face, “Oh sweetie that was just an example, everything is totally fine. It’s exactly like we talked about, I have your band and Miles has Lewis’, I even texted him when we got here to make sure he had it. Do you want to see yours? I have it in my bag, I can go grab it.” Her words of reassurance are rushed as she tries to calm the new anxiety fluttering through your mind.
“No, oh my god, sorry, I just…” You shake your head, wanting to laugh at yourself for becoming so panicked so quickly, “I think my brain just blacked out after I heard ‘issue with the rings’, I don’t know why I let that freak me out so much.”
“It’s okay, you have a lot going on and this is a big deal, don’t worry about it, it’s what I’m here for.” Charlotte calms you, rubbing your forearm as she squats in front of your chair.
“Alright beautiful bride! Ready to make that gorgeous face even better?” Javier’s voice comes excitedly from behind you, rubbing your shoulders as he tries to coax you to turn around so he can start on your makeup.
You take a deep breath, the reality of the day settling into the pit of your stomach, before turning around, ready to be transformed. You’ve had him do this look on you numerous times, wanting to make sure it was exactly what you wanted and you trust his skills, but still the underlying anxiety refuses to leave you. You had opted for a more natural look, similar to what you would do on the day to day but elevated, you wanted to look like yourself, like the you that Lewis fell in love with. As you sat in the chair being pampered, listening to people bustle around behind you, a billion new scary thoughts and anxieties swarmed through your head.
You know you’re making the right choice, there is no one in the universe better made for you than Lewis and no one who you could love or love you more than him. You know everything is taken care of and planned to your liking, but you didn’t place each flower or taste every dish prepared today. You know all of the most important people in your life RSVP’d yes, but you haven’t laid eyes on them today, you don’t know if they’ve arrived on time. Every single detail that has been a stress in the back of your mind for the last year has now become the only thing you can think about. You’re trying so hard to let them slip to the background, to stay in the moment, enjoy the laughter of your bridal party and the random chatter from Javier, but it doesn’t work.
Your mom is the first to notice, seeing you with a furrowed brow and your eyes shut tight as Javier steps away to grab something.
“Sweetie, what’s wrong?” She asks quietly, her hand resting on your shoulder, giving it a tight squeeze.
The sound of her voice almost brings you to tears and you can’t quite explain why. You look at her through the mirror, noticing the deep concern on her face.
“Everyone wants it to be so perfect, what if it isn’t? I asked everyone to travel so far and what if it lets them down. The Hamilton wedding is supposed to be THE event, what if it’s not right or something goes wrong or it isn’t what people were expecting?” You ramble so quietly you’re worried she won’t be able to hear you.
“Oh, my sweet girl,” She says through a pout, wrapping her arms around your shoulders and meeting you cheek to cheek, “not an ounce of what you just said matters, I know you’re nervous but don’t stress yourself. Today is supposed to be one of the best days of your life, not because of how fancy it is or what caterer you hired, but because you are marrying a man that will love you, protect you, and take care of you for the rest of your life. I know that it feels like it’s all about the party and the flair, but today you are taking a step for you and Lewis and that is all that matters, you are building your life with an amazing man who would move mountains for you and that is all that matters. All you have to worry about is making it to the end of the aisle, saying I Do, and kissing your husband. We’re all just lucky that we get to witness it.”
“Fuck,” you breathe out with a dry laugh, “you’re right. It’s just so much.”
“Just keep reminding yourself that that beautiful man is going to be legally yours till death do you part.” She laughs before kissing your cheek, lightening your mood as you picture his perfect face. While her words do ease your nerves a new very important thought pops into your head, a new non-negotiable.
“Charlotte.” You call out urgently, aware of your time crunch.
“I’m here, what do you need?” She asks quickly, rushing to your side like a lady in wait.
“Lewis,” You start, watching as her eyebrows shoot up in a disapproving look, “no I know, I won’t look at him or let him look at me, I just need to squeeze his hand and hear his voice, I promise.”
She still doesn’t look quite convinced as you plead with her, “Y/N, no seeing Lewis was a very hard rule from day one of wedding planning. Are you sure?”
“Char, please, figure out a way so I don’t see him, we’ll stick to the rules but he’s been there to calm me down and make sure I’m okay for every major thing in my life for a more than half a decade and I don’t know about you but I’d say this is a pretty major thing! It won’t be any worse than me talking to him last night, I swear.” You plead with her, grabbing her hands, suddenly very set on needing to at least speak to Lewis before walking down the aisle.
“Okay, okay, yes, I will make it happen, but before you get into your dress, just in case, gimme a sec.” She agrees as her face softens, seeing your desperation, realizing that she too would need Lewis for a moment before something this big. He may be your lover, your fiance, the man you are about to spend the rest of your life with, but at the core he is your best friend, the man that has been there for you since you showed up at game night years ago, your other half.
Charlotte quickly leaves the room after squeezing your hand and telling Javier he can start working again. You assume she’s headed to find Miles, or she’s gone straight to Lewis. You start to get anxious yet again that you may be causing Lewis anxiety, you should have told her to tell him that you’re fine and just being selfish, remembering the moment of fear you had last night when he had called you.
You’re not sure how long it takes her but once your makeup is finished she has returned and is requesting for you to follow her. You feel silly walking out of the suite with pinned hair and your robe on but all you can think about is talking to Lewis, eager to hear his voice as if you’ve just started dating. Charlotte ushers you down a hallway to an empty room with a door on the other side. You’re far enough away from everyone that the noise has quieted and you can subsequently feel your brain calming down, realizing just how overstimulated you’ve been for the last few hours. Charlotte guides you to the far wall of the room, next to the door frame, turning you to back up against it before gently knocking on the door. It takes only a second for the door to open, Miles’ smiling face appearing next to you.
“Well hello beauty, you look fucking incredible.” He says before leaning in to kiss your cheek.
“It’s not fair that I don’t get to see her.” You hear your fiance whine from the other side of the wall, making you giggle and your cheeks warm.
“All in due time brother, you’re the lucky one though, you get to see her at the altar.” Miles says teasingly, leaning back through the door to look at Lewis before coming back to you, “So I have your fiance here as requested. Char and I will give you guys some privacy.”
“Thank you Miles, I’m sorry if this is a pain, I just needed a minute.” You tell him, reaching out to squeeze his arm.
Before he can respond, Miles is bursting out into a laugh, “Love, this was a help on my end, mans has been so annoyed that he hasn’t been allowed to see you all day, he hasn’t shut up about you once. Enjoy, you evidently both need it.” He says as his laughter begins to die down, sending a disapproving look into the room behind you where you assume Lewis is giving him the same back. “You guys have five minutes, and absolutely no peeking.”
“We won’t.” You and Lewis both promise in unison, making both of you giggle as Charlotte and Miles walk away to another room to give you your privacy.
“I mean it!” Miles turns around to yell, still walking backwards as he points his finger at you, “ I will know just by the look on bruvs face if he caught a glimpse of you, don’t you dare.”
“We’ll be good, I promise. Thank you guys!” You yell back at him as they disappear through a nearby door.
“Hey you.” You hear Lewis’ soft voice after a moment, your heart swelling just upon hearing the recognizable timbre.
“Hi.” You squeak, forgetting everything you had wanted to say when you asked Charlotte to make this happen.
“Are you okay?” He asks you, his voice filled with concern and care.
“Yes, oh my god yes,” You start, your anxiety of concerning him coming back tenfold, “I’m so sorry, I just, I don’t know, I was getting really anxious and then I realized that I haven’t had a big moment in life without you either being right there or calling me for like more than five years and then I got worried that I wouldn’t make it through something like this without talking to you first, which is silly because I know I’m literally preparing myself to marry you, like I’m going to see you at the altar in like an hour but I don’t know, my mom said all this stuff about how amazing you are trying to calm my nerves and then I realized I absolutely had to at least talk to you and I’m sorry if you were busy, I’m not trying to be needy, you just calm me and this day is so much and there's so much going on and it has to be perfect and-” Your words are rushed, not thinking them through as you ramble to him, not stopping to even take a breath.
“Y/N,” Lewis cuts you off, his voice firm but gentle, “it’s okay, please take a breath.”
You drop your head, almost embarrassed by how calm he sounds with the emotions swirling around in your head at the moment. You listen to his request and take a deep breath, trying to calm your breathing and your mind.
“Good, now another.” He instructs you calmly as you feel his hand sneak around the door frame and brush your hip.
The moment you see his skin you reach down and grasp his hand firmly, needing him to ground you as you take yet another deep breath.
“I’m sorry.” You whisper as you squeeze his hand, trying to breathe like he wants you to.
“Baby, you have nothing to be sorry for,” He starts softly, squeezing your hand just as firmly, “I know this whole thing is a lot and there’s so much going on, but none of that is important. I don’t give a fuck how anything goes as long as I get to end the night married to you, that’s all that matters today,” His voice is soft as he assures you, washing over you like a warm blanket before it turns cheeky as he adds, “well I also want to see you in that dress and obviously whatever you have underneath it.”
You want to laugh and cry at the same time, amused by how easily a stupid (yet serious) comment could lift your spirits, simply because it came from him. Amazed that the same sentiment that has been spoken to you by everyone around you with no avail, could take a burden off your chest simply because they came from his mouth.
“I love you so much Lew.” You reply, squeezing his hand so hard you’re worried you’ll hurt him, trying to fight back tears as you do.
“I love you so much my sweet girl and I will tell you just how much when you meet me at the altar. You’ve changed my life, you’ve made me a better man, a better human, you’ve made me happier than I knew was even possible and I want nothing more than to marry you today. I don’t care how that happens, if you want to run away right now and head to vegas we can, at the end of the day I just want you. You’re the best thing that has ever happened to me and nothing matters besides us. This whole castle could burn down right now and as long as I still had you I truly would not care. I love you so much and today is going to be incredible no matter what happens, but I bet you nothing will go wrong because we planned it and we’re pretty amazing.” He sealed his words with a kiss to the back of your hand, chuckling as he finished. His lips on your skin gave you a whole new sense of confidence and ignited a fire in the pit of your stomach.
You wished so badly that you could see him, that you could properly kiss him, but you reminded yourself that you were close to the finish line, that he would be all yours soon.
“I love you too, so so much, thank you for this, I’m sorry if I interrupted, I just needed to hear your voice and be close to you.” You admit to him with a sigh as you lean back against the wall.
“You’re never an interruption, whenever you need me I’m here, always. Besides, Miles wasn’t lying, I’ve been going crazy since we left the rehearsal dinner wanting to see you, touch you, kiss you, talk to you, literally anything. I know we’ve gone weeks apart from each other but everything feels different right now.” He tells you, making you smile, that you're not completely alone in your desperation. You take a moment, leaning against the wall in silence as you hold his hand, letting your nerves wash away.
“Alright, love birds! Time to go get fancy and hit the altar!” Miles’ voice cuts through your moment as he hollers and claps, returning to the room.
You let out a sigh, wishing your moment with Lewis could continue but reluctantly begin to move away from the wall. Before you can get too far, he is gripping your hand and pulling you back to place a kiss on your hand before leaving a lingering kiss on your pulse point.
“I love you Y/N, just come meet me at the altar. Nothing else matters.” His words are muttered into the skin of your wrist before he finally lets you go and Charlotte is ushering you away back to your suite as Miles stands guard making sure Lewis doesn’t cheat and sneak a peek at you.
“Feeling better?” Char asks as you make your way down the hall.
“So much better, I feel perfect.” You say through a smile, meaning it wholeheartedly, “ I’M GETTING MARRIED!”
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anotherhumaninthisworld · 20 days ago
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robespierre family dynamics... what were augustin and charlotte like? how did maximilien act towards them? wasnt charlotte into horse riding, and didnt her brothers discourage her from doing that? wasnt augustin known as the more goofy, lighthearted version of maximilien? oh! and why was augustin nicknamed "bonbon"?
(these are questions mixed in with random facts ive heard about the robespierre family... since you know a lot about frev, im hoping to get some more context and clarification on some of these!)
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To start off with Augustin’s nickname Bonbon: Élisabeth Duplay Le Bas confirmed in a note written around 1847 that it stemmed from the fact Augustin’s middle name was Bon. Interestingly, we actually have no recorded instance of Maximilien and Charlotte using the nickname, even if it can be assumed that they did.
As for the family dynamics, pre-revolution we more or less only have two sources to rely on —  La Vie et les Crimes de Robespierre, surnommé Le Tyran: depuis sa naissance jusqu’à sa mort (1795) by Le Blond de Neuvéglise (abbé Proyart), who was an acquaintance of the family and teacher of Maximilien, and Charlotte’s Mémoires de Charlotte Robespierre sur ses deux frères (1835). For both authors, the primary point is not necessarily to tell the full truth, but rather to denounce/rehabilitate (or if you want, vilify/glorify) Maximilien, and as a consequence, the pictures they paint are radically different from one another (and perhaps not always to be treated that literally). According to Proyart, the child Maximilien ”was tyrannically harsh towards his brother and his sisters. As he spoke little, he found it bad that they spoke more than he did, he did not grant them common sense; nothing they said was well said. He missed no opportunity of mortifying or humiliating them; he lavished on them, for the smallest of subjects, the reproaches of rudeness.” Charlotte on the other hand writes that her older brother ”loved us tenderly, and there were no caresses he did not lavish on us.” She does however subscribe to Proyart’s description in some sense, as she right before this states: ”since [the death of our parents] he saw himself, in the quality of eldest, as the head of the family, he became poised, reasonable, laborious; he spoke to us with a sort of imposing gravity; if he joined in our games, it was to direct them.”
Following what more reliable sources can tell us about the early family dynamics (see this post for a more complete timeline), we know the siblings lost their mother on July 16 1764, when Maximilien was six, Charlotte four, Henriette two and a half and Augustin one (according to Charlotte’s memoirs, he was still with a wetnurse when this happened). Shortly thereafter (unclear exactly when) their father cut contacts with his children. According to Charlotte’s memoirs, she and Henriette were then taken in by their two paternal aunts, while the two brothers got looked after by their maternal grandparents. They did however make sure that the children got to see each other every Sunday. On December 30 1768, the eight year old Charlotte was enrolled at Maison des Sœurs Manarre, “a pious foundation for poor girls” situated in modern day Belgium, which she presumably left in 1778, aged 18. On October 13 1769, eleven year old Maximilien left for the boarding school of Louis-le-Grand in Paris, from which he graduated on May 15 1781. Henriette was sent to join her sister at Maison des Sœurs Manarre on May 3 1771. She died in March 1780, it’s unclear exactly where. As for Augustin, he presumably studied at the college of Duoai until October 11 1781, when he got to overtake Maximilien’s scholarship to Louis-le-Grand. It can in other words be concluded that the siblings (with the exception of Charlotte and Henriette) didn’t see much of each other for the majority of their childhood.
From 1781 to 1789, Maximilien and Charlotte live together in Arras, first on Rue du Saumon, then on Rue Teinturiers, Rue des Jésuites and finally Rue des Rapporteurs 9. In 1787 they are joined by Augustin who has finished his studies at Louis-le-Grand. The information we have regarding the family dynamics for this period continue to be very lacking, we still more or less only have Charlotte’s memoirs and Proyart’s La Vie et les Crimes de Robespierre… to rely on. According to the former, Maximilien worked much, from six or seven in the morning to seven or eight in the evening, spending the rest of the day with his friends or family. Charlotte nevertheless also remembers that he was often rather distracted in these gatherings — ”when we played cards, or when we spoke only of insignificant things, he retired to a corner of the apartment, ensconced himself in an armchair, and gave himself up to his reflections as if he had been alone” —  something which she and the two aunts often reproached him for. She still insists that ”he was naturally gay; he knew how to be pleasant, and sometimes laughed until he cried” and that the same aunts would often tell her: “Your brother is an angel; he has all moral virtues, he is made to be the dupe and the victim of the vicious too.” Charlotte notes that she and the aunts ”spoiled [Maximilien] by a crowd of those little attentions of which women alone are capable,” but also that she often had to decide for herself what they were having for dinner, Maximilien responding he had no idea when she asked him what he wanted.
As for Augustin, Charlotte writes that he had less aptitude for study than Maximilien, and was sometimes reproached for ”his idle tastes” by his big siblings — ”we exhorted him to create some occupations for himself; sometimes our remonstrance made Augustin withdraw into himself; he put himself to his work with an ardor to lively to be durable; enclosed in his chamber he passed many days with books; but he could not long support this constraint.” Regardless, Charlotte concludes by describing the bond between the three siblings as strong — ”never had a family been as united as my two brothers and I.” An image that Proyart doesn’t exactly agree with, here is all he has to say regarding the family dynamics during the same period:
In his domestic affairs, [Maximilien] was neither less despotic nor more amiable than in his external relations. He treated with equal harshness and heaped the same reproaches on both his brother, who could deserve them, and a sister, who did not deserve them. The first was twenty-five years old, and he still addressed him with a brutal "shut up, stupid beast." At a time when his sister, although economical with her time, earned very little from the work of her fingers, he did not grant her even the necessary supplement for the most modest maintenance.
When Maximilien in 1789 set out to get elected for the Estates General, Proyart claims that Augustin helped in the campaign: ”Robespierre the younger went from village to village, seeking votes for his brother.” In an undated memorandum presumably written in March 1795, Armand Joseph Guffroy, an associate of the three siblings, claims that Charlotte also helped here, selling for her brothers the capital of her 400 livres income to help them get to Paris, and this in spite of ”the prediction of an aunt.”
In her memoirs, Charlotte claims that the siblings wrote to each other frequently during Maximilien’s time as deputy of the National Assembly: ”[Maximilien] gave me the most emphatic testimony of friendship in his letters. “You (vous) are what I love the most after the homeland,” he told me.” However, we have zero letters conserved from Maximilien to his brother and sister, as well as zero from Augustin to his sister. Both brothers did however write several letters to the family friend Antoine Buissart while away in Paris (we have a total nine from Maximilien between 1789-1792, and eighteen from Augustin 1789-1793). In said letters, they often tell Buissart to say hello from them to his wife Charlotte, but never ask about their own family… We do however have signs of Maximilien having corresponded with at least Augustin. One can be found in a letter from Maximilien to Buissart dated May 1 1790, where he mentions that he’s ”sending you a letter for my brother,” not daring to address it to him directly ”out of fear that my name would incite aristocratic hands to violate the secrecy of the letters.” The other sign is in a letter from Augustin to Maximilien dated April 10 1792 where there is to read: ”You are mistakenly complaining about the bad address I sent you.” These letters from Maximilien have then either gone missing or gotten destroyed.
Throughout 1790 we also have a total of nine letters from Augustin to Maximilien, most of them undated. These are entirely business related, and can’t really be used to say much about the dynamics between the two brothers, other than the fact Augustin was utterly loyal to his big brother. In one of the letters he complains that Maximilien is hesitant to publish a response to Briois de Beaumetz who in an open letter had accused him of having charged the people of Arras with failure to pay their taxes — ”This is an insult you are doing to your greatest friend.” He also doesn’t hide his fears of the risks Maximilien’s position puts him in: ”I tremble, my friend, when I think of the dangers that surround you. […] Farewell, I embrace you with tears in my eyes,” sentiments he repeats in a later letter, though this time with some resolve added in: ”I cannot hide my fears from you, dear brother, you will seal the cause of the people with your blood, perhaps these people will even be unfortunate enough to strike you, but I swear to avenge your death and to deserve it like you.” Augustin was also ready to give his brother political advice: in one of the letters he suggests dropping his motion for the marriage of priests, since it causes too much uproar:  ”[the motion] is well within my principles, but few people are at the same level! You would lose the esteem of the peasants if you renewed this motion. This weapon is used to harm you; people only talk about your irreligion, etc.”
As for Charlotte, we have one letter from her to Maximilien dated April 9 1790, in which she mentions a local whip-round that she and other ”patriots” have occupied themselves with, a falling out she’s had with the journalist Thérèse Merchand — ”I took the liberty of telling her what the good patriots must have thought of her journal, and what you thought of it. I reproached her for her affectation of always putting infamous notes for the people, etc.” — and which she ends by asking him to ”to send what you promised me. We are still in great trouble” and to see if he can’t find a place in Paris for her and for Augustin, ”because he will never be anything in this country.” 
That the two younger siblings were in dire straits back in Arras is also confirmed by two letters from Augustin to Maximilien from 1790. In the first one he writes that “We are in absolute destitution, remember our unfortunate household,” in the second one he reports that ”my sister has payed your rent. She has very few things left. She begs me to tell you this. I don’t know what to become, I don’t find any resources.” That Maximilien helped them out economically is confirmed by Souvernirs d’un déporté (1802) by Paul Villiers, who claimed to have served as his secretary in 1791. Villiers recalled that Maximilien at the time sent half of his fees to ”a sister he had in Arras, whom he held a lot of affection for.”
While Charlotte wouldn’t see her older brother again until 1791, Augustin went to visit him at least two times during the lifespan of the National Assembly. The first visit came in September 1789, as seen through letters from Augustin to Buissart dated September 3 and September 10. Through the second letter we learn that Augustin and Maximilien had gotten into some kind of argument prior to the latter leaving for Versailles, but that they had now made up — ”My brother has righted his wrongs against me.” Through the address given on both letters, we see that Augustin moved in with Maximilien on Rue d’Étang 16, a place he shared with three other deputies from Arras before the National Assembly moved to Paris in October 1789. It is unclear if Augustin was still with his brother when this move took place. We do know he was back in Arras by at least April 1790. In June the same year he writes to ask Maximilien to supply him with the means to go to Paris for July 14, in order to compensate for the lack of ”patriotic enjoyment” in Arras. We don’t know if he got his will through here. He was however back by his brother’s side again by September 1790, as revealed through a letter from the same month from him to Buissart. Augustin seems to have been ready to go back to Arras by the end of the year but gotten hindered by his brother, as revealed through letters from him to Buissart dated dated November(”My brother has delayed my departure, I will not announce it anymore; I will arrive, I will embrace you, everything will be forgiven.”) and December 13 (”I thought you would have received me at your home today instead of receiving my letter the day after tomorrow; but my brother did not allow me to leave and I’m staying in Paris for the week.”) Though the first letter we also learn that Charlotte would not appear to have been so fond over Augustin having left for the capital once more: ”A thousand things to my sister, she must be very cross with me, but she easily forgets, that consoles me, I will try to bring her what she wants.” Augustin nevertheless appears to have stayed in Paris until at least March 1791, as seen through a letter from him to Buissart the same month. Maximilien’s secretary Paul Villiers gave the following portrait of Augustin during the stay: ”…a miserable lawyer, without means, false, drunkard, base and villainous; he did me the honor of esteeming me and borrowing money and linen from me which he then never returned.” 
On September 30 1791 the National Assembly was closed down, and a few days later Maximilien settled for Arras for a short stay. According to number 289 of the journal La Feuille du jour (October 16 1791), Augustin, Charlotte and ”many other young ladies” traveled to Baurains to meet him, dressed in fine clothes and equipped with music and a so-called ”civic crown,” but were forced to return empty handed when no Maximilien appeared. This was something the people of Arras could not stand for, proposing that Augustin serve as substitute for his brother and be given civic honors in his place. Augustin did however manage to shut this project down with the words: ”No, I refuse, they would make fun of me almost as much as they would of my brother.” 
Recounting this episode in her memoirs forty years later, Charlotte does however claim that Maximilien had written to her about his arrival beforehand, recommending her to keep it a secret. She still writes that she and Augustin went to meet him on the way and had to return empty-handed, but that they were accompanied only by the family friend Charlotte Buissart, and were quite surprised to on their return to Arras see ”a considerable crowd; already the rumor of Robespierre’s arrival had spread in the city, whether by some indiscretion of Madame Buissart’s, whether because our servant had understood the reason for our trip to Bapaume, and had divulged it.” The next day, Charlotte, Augustin and Madame Buissart did however set out again early in the morning, and this time Maximilien eventually did appear: ”Finally, we held him in our arms, and we tasted the ineffable pleasure of seeing him again after an absence of two years.”
For Maximilien’s stay in Arras, Ghislain Morel, clerc of the priest Joseph Lebon, told the following anecdote (cited in La Terreur dans le Pas-de-Calais et dans le Nord. Histoire de Joseph Le Bon et des tribunaux révolutionnaires d'Arras et de Cambrai (1864) regarding a dinner the two brothers attended at his master’s house:
All they talked about was reforms and upheavals. The guests seemed to be preparing the plans that two years later they carried out. Robespierre the younger was a man of peace, who only asked to dine quietly; when he saw Maximilien and Lebon lose their temper, he exhausted himself in efforts to calm them down and bring them to other thoughts.
In late November 1791, Maximilien did however leave for Paris once more, to never see his hometown again. The following months we find three conserved letters from Augustin to Maximilien dated November 1791, December 14 1791 and April 10 1792, all entirely about politics, as well as a somewhat more personal one dated March 19 1792 from Augustin to Maximilien’s host Maurice Duplay:
Patriot Dupleix [sic], I learned indirectly that my brother is indisposed; I am worried; let me know about his situation as soon as possible. Send me also the cartridge that I asked my brother's friend to look for in his papers. Tell my brother that my sister is convalescing, and that I will send back Mme Witty's book in a few days. Don't waste a moment, send answers right away. My worry is at its peak. Nothing prevents me from flying to Paris. Also send me some copies of the speech on the war that your friend gave and the observations of Pethion [sic] and Robespierre. I embrace you and your family.
On September 16 1792, Augustin was elected to fill a seat in the National Convention, representing Paris. This time, Charlotte was not left behind when he once again set out for the capital. The two moved in with the Duplay family on Rue Saint-Honoré 366, where their brother had been lodging since a year back. The family, which consisted of father Maurice, mother Françoise-Éléonore, their three unmarried daughters Éléonore, Victoire and Élisabeth, son Jacques Maurice and nephew Simon, appears to have been on great terms with both of the brothers. This is what Élisabeth in her memoirs has her husband Philippe Le Bas tell her that Augustin had told him:
He praised you, told me that he had the friendship of a brother for you, that you were cheerful and good and that he liked you best of your sisters, that your good mother was excellent, that she had raised you well, as housewives, that your household was perfect and recalled the golden age, that everything there breathed virtue and a pure patriotism, that your good father was the most worthy and generous of men, that his whole life had passed in goodness. He told me that his brother was very happy to be among you, that you were a family to him, that he loved you like sisters and regarded your father and mother as his own parents.
In Histoire de Saint-Just député à la Convention nationale (1860), Ernest Hamel also publishes a testimony from Élisabeth’s son Philippe, revealing that Augustin, together with Simon and Jacques Maurice, once visited the house of saloon hostess Jeanne-Louise-Françoise de Sainte-Amaranthe, ”and this escapade was so severely criticised by Maximilien that, despite all the attraction of such a house for men, the oldest of whom was barely twenty-nine years old, they were careful not to return there.”
As can be seen above, Augustin also seems to have gone under his nickname ”Bonbon” within the Duplay family.
Charlotte on the other hand wrote in her memoirs that she got along well with Élisabeth and Victoire, but not so much with their mother and Éléonore. For the first, she writes that she ”looked constantly to put me in bad standing with my older brother and to monopolize him.” She also brings up (as she is not alone in having done) the claim that there existed marriage plans between Maximilien and Éléonore. Charlotte however, argues that only Françoise and Éléonore actually wanted this, her brother being too ”overwhelmed with work and affairs” to have time for either mistress or fiancée. She writes Maximilien ”told me twenty times that he felt nothing for Éléonore; her family’s obsessions, their importunities were more suited to make feel disgust for her than to make him love her,” and that he even told Augustin to marry her instead, to which he would have replied: “My faith, no.” 
Charlotte also insinuates Françoise was bullying her: ”If I were to report everything she did to me, I would fill a fat volume. […] [Élisabeth] often came to wipe away my tears when Madame Duplay’s indignities made me cry.” This ill treatment is however contested by the same Élisabeth, who in her memoirs instead reports that her mother ”regarded Charlotte as a daughter” and ”never refused her anything that could please her.” She does however imply that Charlotte did eventually fall out of favor with Françoise: ”At the time (April 1793), my mother liked [Charlotte] a lot, she still had nothing to complain about,” but without elaborating on why exactly…
Though Charlotte doesn’t write it outright, we might imagiene the feud between her and the Duplays was fueled by the fact she, who for the past ten years had had her own household to run, now had that role taken away from her by Madame Duplay. Another theory, that we’ll get to later, is that there was a political dimension to the feud, namely, Charlotte blaming the Duplays for Maximilien’s radicalization.
If information regarding the relationship between the three siblings and their hosts is far from lacking, it is more scarce when it comes to the dynamics between the siblings themselves at the time. But it can be observed that no general disagreements between the two brothers can be spotted as Augustin took the step from dealing with local politics as a lawyer in Arras to national politics as a deputy of the Convention in Paris, and that he in large parts seems to have kept the protective attitude towards Maximilien already seen in their correspondence. We know Augustin was moved by the open attack on his brother by the ”girondin” Louvet at the Convention on October 29 1793. Later the same day he exclaimed to the jacobins: ”I am somewhat ashamed to be speaking before you, because the brother of Robespierre should be calumniated, and he is not. […]  I heard men say that he would perish by their hands. Another one, whom I asked if he wanted to be the executioner of my brother, responded: ”He has been the executioner of a lot of others.” After this, it is possible to believe innocence will never be victorious!” And he ended by assuring them that Marat must be innocent of the charges currently directed against him as well, ”because he is persecuted by the same enemies that persecute Robespierre.” Augustin nevertheless also seems to have shared his brother’s 1, unwillingness to compromise and 2, belief that ideals are worth more than single individuals, when, five days later, after a jacobin proposed trying to reunite with the ”girondins,” he was firmly opposed and exclaimed: ”Citizens of Paris, be calm, let Maximilien Robespierre be sacrificed (cries of no! no! from the citizens in the tribunes). The loss of a man doesn’t entail the loss of liberty.” Finally, on December 31 1792, after having summarized the Convention session of the day for the jacobins, Augustin is recorded to have ”complained about attacks against his brother contained in the speech of Vergniaud.”
In Observations de Jérôme Pétion sur la lettre de Maximilien Robespierre (December 1792), Pétion insinuates Augustin getting elected to represent Paris in the National Convention must have been due to nepotism: ”your brother might be a brave and loyal citizen, I’m speaking neither for nor against him; but you must admit he wasn’t known to ten people.” Something which Maximilien hastily refuted when responding to Pétion a little while later:
As for my brother, he was known to the patriots of Paris and the Jacobins, who had witnessed his civic-mindedness; he was presented by members who, since the beginning of the revolution, have enjoyed public confidence; it was discussed solemnly and publicly, following the usage adopted by the electoral assembly; he was attacked more sharply than any other candidate; and were it true that one had counted, among the guarantors of his incorruptibility, the loyalty of his brother to the cause of the people, would one have to conclude with you that this choice was the fruit of the cabal, and that the electoral assembly, the purest that has yet existed among us, was a collection of intriguers and imbeciles?
As for Charlotte, Élisabeth Duplay writes in her memoirs that the two often visited the Convention together, where they sometimes met Augustin. On February 2 1793 the three siblings also had dinner with Rosalie Jullien, who the next day left the following portraits of them in a letter to her son. I would guess the idea of Augustin as more lighthearted than his brother has much to thank Rosalie’s description:
I was very pleased with the Robespierre family. The sister is naive and natural like your aunts, she arrived two hours before her brothers, and we had some women’s talk. I got her to speak about their domestic morals, and it is just like ours, simplicity and sincerity. Her brother had as little to do with the tenth of August as with the second of September. He is as suited to leading a party as he is to catching the moon between his teeth. He is abstract like a thinker and dry like an office man, but gentle like a lamb and gloomy like Young. I see that he does not possess our tender sensibilities, but I believe that he wants the best for mankind, more for the sake of justice than for the sake of love. Besides, you don't have to do more than look at his face to determine that never has nature given such gentle features to such a beautiful soul. Robespierre the younger is livelier, more open, an excellent patriot, but with a common mind and a contented temper which make him an unfavorable noise to the Mountain.
The siblings eventually move from Rue Saint-Honoré and into an apartment on Rue Saint-Florentin. No author has been able to identify when exactly this move took place. From what the different sources indicate, I personally think it’s most likely Charlotte and Augustin moved out before Maximilien, somewhere in the summer of 1793. Shortly thereafter, on July 19 1793, Augustin was was tasked by the Committee of Public Safety with going to the Army of Italy. Augustin set off a few days later together with fellow representative on mission Jean François Ricord. According to Charlotte’s memoirs, it was when she learned that Ricord was bringing his wife Marguerite for company that she asked Augustin if she too could join on the journey, something which the latter ”joyfully agreed to.”
Again according to Charlotte’s memoirs, up until this point ”nothing had altered the vivid harmony that reigned between us [three siblings].” Charlotte does however claim that it was during this mission a rupture took place between them that they would never recover from. The start of this episode, she writes, came when she, Augustin and the Ricords, after a while of having traveled from town to town with counter-revolutionaries constantly after them, finally settled in Nice for a longer period of time. There, Augustin and Ricord made frequent outings to different divisions while Charlotte and Marguerite occupied themselves with making shirts for the soldiers during the day and went for walks and horseback rides in the countryside in the evenings. This latter activity soon proved to be troublesome, as ”several journals paid by the aristocracy” back in Paris started accusing the two women of acting like princesses with their equestrian outings. As a consequence, Augustin vetoed further horseback rides after receiving a letter from Maximilien regarding the issue, and Charlotte promised to abstain from riding from then on (this is the horse controversy you were talking about in the ask) But not long after, while Augustin and Ricord were away, Marguerite, who according to Charlotte ”was the most frivolous and inconsiderate person in the world,” proposed the two should go on yet another ride, and Charlotte, after trying in vain to remind her of what her brothers had said, hesitantly joined her. ”During the entire ride, I was sad and had a heavy heart, because I was so affected by disobeying my brother.”
When Augustin reproached his sister for the ride three days later, Charlotte called on Marguerite to testify that it had been her idea. But Marguerite, instead of telling the truth, not only enforced the lie that it was Charlotte that had wanted the ride, but also added that she had taken her with her against her will. Charlotte was so stupified she couldn’t respond, but Augustin chose to believe in it, much to her distress — ”My brother knew I was incapable of lying. Why then did he not want to believe me?” After this incident, Augustin stopped speaking to Charlotte and started keeping a certain coldness towards her, a coldness which grew bigger everyday since Marguerite ”didn’t cease to speak ill of me to my brother and invent thousands of lies to make me lose his friendship.” Charlotte for her part cried a lot over Augustin’s behaviour when she was alone, but ”was resoluted to hide my pain and to not show it, especially to my brother.” She claims she didn’t understand what was causing his behaviour at the time, but chose not to ask for an explanation for it since ”I saw him so occupied, so burdened by work, that I couldn’t bring myself to.”
The straw that broke the camel’s back came when Marguerite a while later suggested to Charlotte that they should go to Grasse together to see a friend of hers, something Charlotte agreed to do. But hardly had they arrived when Marguerite came forward with a forged (so Charlotte writes) letter, telling Charlotte it was from Augustin and that he urged her to return to Paris as soon as possible. A shocked Charlotte obeyed and set out for the capital the following morning, ending her journey somewhere in the fall of 1793 (we don’t have a clear date as to when here either). Marguerite in her turn went on to slander Charlotte even more to Augustin, saying that the reason she had so abruptly left for Paris was because she didn’t care about him, and that Charlotte had caluminated both of them. According to Charlotte, Marguerite was seducing her brother, who for his part  ”believed it essential to his honor and duty” to respond to her advances. If there is any truth to that interpretation or if the story is actually such that Augustin and Marguerite were having a mutual love affair that Charlotte became an annoying witness to I will leave unsaid…
It is after Charlotte’s lone return to Paris that I think it’s most likely she got Maximilien to leave the Duplays and come live with her on Rue Saint-Florentin. According to her memoirs, the argument she used to persuade him was that, occupying such a high rank in politics, he ought to have a home of his own. ”Maximilien recognized the fairness of my reasons, but for a long time fought the proposal that I made to him to separate from the Duplay family, fearing to distress them. At last I succeeded.”
On December 18 1793, one day after the siege of Toulon, Augustin writes to let Maximilien know he’s coming back to Paris. We have two conflicting reports regarding his short stay in the capital. According to Charlotte’s memoirs, Augustin had swallowed all the bad things Marguerite Ricord had told him about his sister, and was therefore ”outraged” against her upon his arrival in Paris, refusing to see her during his stay and not even putting his foot in the house, choosing instead to lodge with his colleague Record (unclear to me if she means Ricord, which would be strange given the fact they were not given a leave at the same time). He did however make known to Maximilien that Charlotte had compromised him and Marguerite, and even though her older brother never spoke to her about it, ”I saw that he was unhappy with me.” Charlotte herself writes she was still completely unaware of what had caused Augustin’s change in attitude towards her, but that ”the purity of my conscience” stopped her from asking either brother for an explanation of why they were treating her like they did.
Maurice André Gaillard, who had known the siblings before the revolution, did on the other hand claim in his memoirs to have met Augustin when the latter made a stop in Melun on his way to Paris. Augustin, far from speaking ill of Charlotte, would then have told him that ”my whole family will be content to receive news from you. We often speak of you, my brother, sister and I, come and see us in Paris, public affairs shouldn’t hinder from cultivating old relationships.” Recalling a meeting he had with Charlotte five months later, Gaillard similarily has her say that both she and Maximilien got very happy when Augustin could deliver news about him, insinuating she and her younger brother were not on bad terms at all and that he, contrary to Charlotte’s memoirs’ version, stayed at same house as them during his leave.
We have one confirmed interaction between Augustin and Maximilien during the former’s brief stay in Paris, and it occurred on January 5 1794 at the jacobin club, in the middle of the flamewar between the journalists Hébert and Desmoulins. Augustin stood up to regret the quarrels infecting the club that were not there when he left on a mission five months earlier. ”I ask that Hébert, who has many reproaches to make, because it is he who is the cause of the movements in the departments, relating to worship [...] be heard in his turn. […] If Hébert has to respond to Camille, Père Duchesne  can enter the fray with the Vieux Cordelier.” This comment did however earn him a rebuke from Maximilien, who immediately after declared: ”It is easy to see that the last speaker has been absent from the Society for a long time. He has rendered great services at Toulon, but he did not sufficiently consider how dangerous it is to still fuel small passions which clash with so much violence.”
Soon thereafter Augustin left for another mission in Haute-Saône, this time accompanied by his mistress Guillodon La Saudraie (by now it can provably be seen that he appeared to have a much bigger appreciation for such activities than his brother, something I suppose it too has contributed to the image of him as the more light-hearted one). It wouldn’t be until June that he could see his family again.
Maximilien was for his part soon to return to the Duplays again. In her memoirs, Charlotte claims he moved back in with the family after Madame Duplay one day came to visit and found that he had fallen ill, whereupon she told Charlotte he would be better cared for at her house. The only period of illness in Robespierre’s last year alive that I’ve been able to identify is in February-March 1794, when he was away from public life for as much as a month, so it seems likely for this incident to have happened here. Charlotte claims that Maximilien first weakly refused to go, but when Madame Duplay ”doubled her instances or rather her obsessions,” he decided to follow her, telling Charlotte that ”they love me so, they have so much respect, so much goodness for me, that it would be ungrateful of me to push them away.” Élisabeth Duplay did for her part in a note written in her old age claim that Maximilien had in fact disliked living with his sister because her ”imperious character rendered him really unhappy.”
Charlotte was hurt by Maximilien choosing the Duplays over her. She writes she regardless of that often went to see him after he moved back, always being received in a ”disgraceful manner” by Françoise Duplay. Charlotte also often charged her domestic with bringing her brother jam and fruits that he liked. But one day Françoise sent the domestic and her jampots back with the words: ”Bring that back, I don’t want her to poison Robespierre.” (unclear if this is meant to be read literally or just as a joke about Charlotte’s cooking). Learning about this, Charlotte recalls she was ”stupifed,” but again chose not to tell Maximilien about what had happened since this would ”provoke a scene that could only be strongly disagreeable for him” and instead chose to ”devour in silence my grief and indignation.”
If Charlotte really was as reserved in front of her brothers as she portrays herself in her memoirs, she on the other hand appears to have been much more politically active in other places. In an undated letter probably from 1793 we do for example find her submitting papers to an unknown person and asking for a copy of ”the proclamation that you have given to M. La Jourdeai.” Charlotte seems to have been especially investigated in the situation in Arras, corresponding with both the Buissart couple, the daughter of a municipal officier and administrator in the army Claude-Louis Bruslé de Valsuzenay, who in a letter to her dated April 25 1794 paints a grim picture of the repression currently carried out in the city under the leadership of representative on mission Joseph Lebon: ”While we were relaying I fulfilled your errand. What has been said of your country is true; for six weeks one hundred and fifty people have been guillotined and about three thousand imprisoned.”
Charlotte also visited Convention deputy Armand Joseph Guffroy, who was also from Arras and had been an associate of all three siblings, even if, according to Élisabeth Duplay, Augustin and Maximilien ”held a great contempt for him” since at least 1793. In his work Les secrets de Joseph Lebon et de ses complices (1795) Guffroy claims there was one affair concerning Arras that Charlotte got particularily invested in. It revolved around several members of the city’s revolutionary tribunal — the president Beugniet, public prosecutor Démouliez and committee of surveillance member Gabriel Leblond — who on April 19 1794 got arrested for not having voted for death in a recent trial (these would later be joined by Leblond’s brother, as well as a couple by the name of Danten). On May 4, all of them were taken to Paris to be transferred before the Revolutionary Tribunal of the city. While Guffroy since May 7 started mailbombing Maximilien denouncing and asking him to recall Joseph Lebon and receive declarations from the imprisoned, he writes that female relatives of the accused, alongside Charlotte and the aforementioned Charlotte Buissart, tried their best to approach him in person to tell him about the situation — ”Leblond’s sister, Demeulier’s daughter, Buissart’s wife, Robespierre’s sister, to whom he was almost invisible, took every means to reach him” (this claim is also confirmed through a letter from Guffroy to the Committee of Public Safety dated June 26 1794, where he writes Robespierre surely must remember what Charlotte and Madame Buissart have told him on this subject.) 
Charlotte’s attempts to get her brother to listen to her might eventually have motivated her to move back in with the Duplays as well. That is at least the place Maurice André Gaillard portrays her as living at when in his memoirs recounting a meeting the two had somewhere in May 1794. During said meeting Charlotte would have again ”named with great bitterness, the prodigious number of very honest people dragged to the scaffold by Joseph Lebon,” before again raging against the Duplay family. By now, it would however appear like the relationship with Maximilien it too has much deteriorated, and Charlotte comes off as deploring of her brother’s role in ”the terror,” while nevertheless blaming all his negative changes on his host family:
When my younger brother passed through Melun, all three of us were living together; I still hoped to be able to bring back the older, to snatch him from the wretches who obsess over him and lead him to the scaffold. They felt that my brother would eventually escape them if I regained his confidence, they destroyed me entirely in his mind; today he hates the sister who served as his mother… For several months he has been living alone, and although lodged in the same house, I no longer have the power to approach him… I loved him tenderly, I still do… His excesses are the consequence of the domination under which he groans, I am sure of it, but knowing no way to break the yoke he has allowed himself to be placed under, and no longer able to bear the pain and the shame of to see my brother devote his name to general execration, I ardently desire his death as well as mine. Judge of my unhappiness!… 
When Gaillard wants to see Maximilien to speak with him of an affair regarding 60 arrested judges from Melun (an affair on which Charlotte is quick at voicing her mind as well), Charlotte even suggests not mentioning her name to him. After Gaillard is refused at the Duplays’ door, Charlotte aims even more reproaches against the family, and hopes Augustin will eventually be able to get Maximilien to move away from there:
No one can approach my brother unless he is a friend of those Duplays, with whom we are lodging; these wretches have neither intelligence nor education, explain to me their ascendancy over Maximilien. However, I do not despair of breaking the spell that holds him under their yoke; for that I am awaiting the return of my other brother, who has the right to see Maximilien. If the discovery I just made doesn't rid us of this race of vipers forever, my family is forever lost. You know what a miserable state we found ourselves in, reduced to alms, my brothers and I, if the sister of our father hadn’t taken us in. It’s strange that you didn’t often notice how much her husband’s brusqueness and formality made us pay dearly for the bread he gave us; but you must also have noticed that if indigence saddened us, it never degraded us and you always judged us incapable of containing money through a dubious action. Maximilien, who makes me so unhappy, has never given a hold, as you know, in terms of delicacy. Imagiene his fury when he learns that these miserable Duplays are using his name and his credit to get themselves the rarest goods at a low price from the merchants. So while all of Paris is forced to line up at the baker's shop every morning to get a few ounces of black, disgusting bread, the Duplays eat very good bread because the Incorruptible sits at their table: the same pretext provides them with sugar, oil, soap of the best quality, which the inhabitant of Paris would seek in vain in the best shops... How my brother's pride would be humiliated if he knew the abuse that these wretches make of his name! What would become of his popularity, even among his most ardent supporters? Certainly my brother is very proud, it is in him a capital fault; you must remember, you and I have often lamented the ridicule he made for himself by his vanity, the great number of enemies he made for himself by his disdainful and contemptuous tone, but he is not bloodthirsty. Certainly he believes he can overthrow his adversaries and his enemies by the superiority of his talent.
Charlotte then helps arrange a meeting between Gaillard and Maximilien’s Committee of Public Safety colleague and friend Georges Couthon, so that Gaillard can discuss his errand with him instead. But when Couthon, once the conversation turns hostile, makes a move to call on his guards, Charlotte throws herself on him and holds him still while telling Gaillard to escape and go wait for her. Meeting up with him again, she claims that they both were fooled by ”the profound hypocrisy” of Couthon and that Gaillard would have been executed this very day if she had not intervened. But, not convinced that Couthon will stay put, she tells Gaillard to flee Paris and not to take the ordinary route, something which he also goes ahead and does. If Maximilien found out about this incident is something the anecdote leaves unknown, but we might imagine he wasn’t super happy with his sister if he did…
While all this was going down, Augustin was still away from Paris serving as representative on mission. Aside from letters to the entire Committee of Public Safety, he also penned down seven ones only to Maximilien during this one year long period. These are all entirely related to politics, with one exception, a letter that is undated but usually gets traced to May 1794:
My sister does not have a single drop of blood that resembles ours. I have seen and learned so much about her that I regard her as our greatest enemy. She abuses our spotless reputation to lay down the law on us and threatens to take a scandalous step in order to compromise us. We must take a decisive stand against her. We must make her leave for Arras, and thus take her away from us, a woman who causes our common despair. She would like to give us the reputation of bad brothers, her calumnies spread against us aim at this goal. I would like you to see the citoyenne La Saudraie, she would give you certain information on all the masks that it is interesting to know in these circumstances. A certain Saint-Félix seems to be from the clique.
What exactly Augustin is denouncing Charlotte for here is of course hard to know for sure. At first, a connection might be drawn to him having incorrectly come to believe Charlotte had ”caluminated” him and Madame Ricord, as Charlotte would have it in her memoirs. In said memoirs, Charlotte does however not make that connection, choosing instead to not mention this letter at all, making you suspect there could be something more serious it is alluding to… Indeed, it can be established that the Saint-Félix Augustin claims to be part of Charlotte’s ”clique” in the letter was a ”hébertist” since February 19 1794 held under loose house, and whose brother had gotten executed the following month. But regardless of whether the conflict between the two be personal, political or both, the fact Augustin could denounce Charlotte in this vague of a manner and expect Maximilien to act on it might tell us a bit on how the trust and power dynamics between the three siblings looked…
Augustin’s letter may be the reason (though it’s not confirmed) Maximilien on May 14 wrote the following letter on behalf of the Committee of Public Safety, asking Joseph Lebon, the representative on mission to Arras that Charlotte according to Gaillard’s account repulsed, to make a short trip to Paris. He would however not appeared to have been affected by his sister’s feelings for him, instead telling him that the Committee of Public Safety is happy with his work:
Dear colleague, The Committee of Public Safety needs to confer with you on important objects, it does justice to the energy with which you have suppressed the enemies of the revolution, and the result of our conference will be to direct it in an even more useful way. Come as soon as possible, to return promptly to the post where you currently are.
Lebon quickly did as he was told. According to Guffroy’s Les Secretes de Joseph Lebon the following played out during his short stay in Paris:
Lebon returned to Paris for 24 hours. He spoke to the committee, to Lebas, to Saint-Just and to Robespierre. He was very diligent with the latter. His sister, worthy of the esteem of all good citizens, reproached him for his cruelty, he denied it, and under the pretext of making her an eyewitness, he brought Robespierre’s sister with him. Her brothers wanted to get rid of her: their correspondence proves it.
In an undated memorandum written after the death of the two brothers, Guffroy furthermore argues that it was Charlotte’s relationship with him that caused her fallout with them: …[The brothers] drove her out of their house because she did not think like they did, because she came to see my wife and because she saw citizens who were sincere friends of justice and truth.” A story that Charlotte’s going to somewhat subscribe to in her interrogation held July 31 1794, that we’ll get to later.
On May 17 Lebon reached Cambrai with Charlotte by his side, as announced by a letter written by Augustin Darthé two days later. From there, it didn’t take long before she was back in Arras again. If Charlotte had given her consent to be escorted back to her hometown by a man she allegedly had accused of bloodlust a few days earlier remains unknown. Gaillard for his part claims Charlotte willingly went there in order to ”collect evidence of the massacres carried out by Joseph Lebon,” but that Maximilien ”devoted mortal hatred to her” because of it.
For Charlotte’s time in Arras, we learn through a letter dated May 23 that she seems to have worked as some kind of informant for one Solon, another enemy of Le Bon, visiting the Jacobin club of the town to hear what the word on the street was. In another letter, dated June 28, Antoine Buissart informs Maximilien that since a month back, he, his wife and Charlotte have been ”injured” by a certain Carlier, administrator of the department of Pas-de-Calais — ”You know that from this time on I am a conspirator in the eyes of the famous Carlier, and my wife and your sister two intriguers.” When Charlotte eventually set out for Paris again, Guffroy claims it was caused by Lebon’s ”cutthroats” having denounced her as an aristocrat to the Jacobins. Guffroy speculates that the pretext for this was that she had visited one Payen de Neuville la Liberté, ”an estimable farmer whom Lebon had guillotined, and brother of another Payen, member of the Constituent Assembly who had served as father and friend to Robespierre (Payen was indeed one of the men Maximilien and Augustin had shared an address with at Versailles in 1789) and who Lebon also had guillotined, for not having been at his constitutional mass.” In an undated memorandum he also adds: ”without Florent Guyot, who brought [Charlotte] back to Paris, she would have been imprisoned [in Arras].” All historians mentioning this claim also dismiss it as slander, but this seemingly only on the grounds that they find Guffroy untrustworthy. Considering the two letters above, as well as the fact the execution dates for the two Payen brothers (June 21 and June 26) match up pretty well with the date Charlotte would have departed from Arras (we know through a letter from Buissart to his wife that she was back in Paris by July 1), and the fact Charlotte in her interrogation is going to claim she had almost fallen victim to the Revolutionary Tribunal, I don’t think it deserves to get entirely thrown away. If we also endorse the idea that it was Maximilien who on Augustin’s insistance got Lebon to bring their sister back to Arras, that would mean Charlotte was put in a position to be prosecuted indirectly because of her brothers.
If there is any truth to this, Charlotte does however not let any of that show in her last (and only conserved) letter to Augustin, who had come back to Paris just days before her. In her memoirs, she describes the situation between the two was the same as in December, with Augustin ”fleeing my presence” and ”telling anyone who would listen that I am unworthy of him, that I conducted myself badly with him, that I no longer deserve his esteem” while she herself was entirely clueless as to what she could have done for him to do that. On July 6 1794 Charlotte therefore sat down and authored the following letter to Augustin. She would later try to declare certain parts of it to be fabricated by her brothers’ enemies, but an encounter with the fac-simile of it proves that this is not the case:
Your (votre) aversion for me, my brother, far from diminishing, as I flattered myself, has become the most implacable hatred, to the point that the mere sight of me inspires horror to you; also, I must not hope that you will ever be calm enough to listen to me, which is why I will attempt to write to you. 
Crushed under the weight of my sorrow, incapable of connecting my thoughts, I will not undertake my apology. Yet, it would be so easy for me to demonstrate that I have never deserved in any wise to excite this fury which blinds you, but I abandon the task of my justification to time, which unveils all perfidies, all darknesses. So, when the blindfold which covers your eyes will be torn apart, if you can distinguish the voice of remorse in the disorder of your passions, if the cry of nature can make itself heard, returned from an error which is so fatal to me, do not fear that I will ever reproach you for having guarded it for so long; I will only occupy myself with the joy of having rediscovered your heart. Ah! if you could read at the bottom of mine, you would blush for having insulted it in such a cruel manner, you would see there, with the proof of my innocence, that nothing can erase the tender attachment from it which ties me to you, and that this is the only emotion to which I relate all of my affections; without complaining about your hatred, what does it matter to me that I am hated by those who are irrelevant to me and who I despise? Their memory will never come to trouble me, but being hated by my brothers, I, for whom it is a necessity to cherish them, this is the only thing which can render me as unhappy as I am. 
This passion of hatred must be atrocious, since it blinds you to the point of bringing you to slander me among my friends. Nonetheless, do not hope in your delirium to be able to make me lose the esteem of a few virtuous persons, which is the only good which remains to me, along with a pure conscience ; full of a just confidence in my virtue, I can defy you to detract it and I dare to tell you that, beside the good people who know me, you will lose your reputation rather than harming mine. 
Thus, it is important to your tranquillity that I am far away from you, it is even important, as they say, to the chose publique that I do not live in Paris! I still do not know what I have to do, but what seems the most urgent to me is to clear you of the sight of an odious object, also, as from tomorrow, you can return to your apartment without fearing to meet me there. I will leave from today unless you formally oppose it. 
My stay in Paris should not bother you, I take care not to connect my friends to my disgrace, the misfortune which persecutes me has to be contagious, and your hatred for me is too blind in order not to fall on everyone who shows interest for me. Also, I only need a few days in order to calm the disorder of my thoughts, to decide on the place of my exile, because, in the obliteration of all of my faculties, I am in no state to take a course of action.
Therefore, I leave you since you demand it, but, in spite of your injustices, my friendship for you is so indestructible that I will not retain any bitterness from the cruel treatment which you make me endure. When, [being] disillusioned sooner or later, you will come to hold the feelings for me that I deserve, when shyness does not prevent you from informing me that I have recovered your friendship and, wherever I may be, may I even be beyond the seas, if I can be useful to you in anything, know how to inform me of it and I will soon be by your side.
I send you the exact summary of the expenditures which I have made since your departure for Nice. Sorrowfully, I have learned that you have singularly degraded yourself through the manner in which you have spoken of this affaire d'intérêt. Because of this, I oblige you to observe that, in all of these expenditures, there are debts for the shoemaker, the tailor, a washtub, and powder, prior to my return from Nice, you will also observe that the money that was returned to Madame Delaporte had been lent by her to René during my stay in Nice, that the 200 livres given to René are for his wages which had not been paid to him in the last year, finally, you will also distinguish postage for letters, and if you still have any doubts after this, you can share them with me, I will elucidate them, I will give all of my remaining money to you, and it this does not match my expenditures, this can only be because I have forgotten a few items.
PS: You will observe that the polisher is not paid, nor [is] the locksmith who has made a key for your secretary.
PS: You have to think that, while leaving your apartment, I will take all necessary precautions in order to not compromise my brothers. The quarter where citoyenne Laporte lives, [to whose home] I plan to retreat temporarily, is the place of the entire republic where I can be ignored the most.
Charlotte presumably then left this letter in the apartment on Rue Saint-Florentin before moving in with her friend Madame Delaporte on 200 Rue de la Réunion. Her husband, François Sébastien Christophe Delaporte, had at the time just been appointed judge at the Revolutionary Tribunal of Paris, a position that would land him in prison for several months after thermidor. In the defence he then worked out (cited in Charlotte Robespierre et ses amis (1961)) he had the following to say regarding the Robespierre family dynamics:
I never had relations with any member of the former government, nor with Robespierre. My wife having gotten to know his sister took her into our home, when she was proscribed by him because of her feelings which were quite opposed to his. Certainly, one could not be the friend of this implacable man, when one welcomed his enemies.
According to Charlotte’s memoirs, she never saw Augustin again. She did however meet Maximilien one or two more times, but in the presence of ”several people” (she doesn’t specify which ones) making it impossible for her to speak to him about the conflict with Augustin, since, again: ”I knew both of them were entirely absorbed by the dangers threatening the public sake; I postponed every explanation.” Another person she sometimes met when walking on Champs-Élysées was her former courtier Joseph Fouché. After learning that he was Maximilien’s ”declared enemy,” Charlotte does however claim she no longer wanted to speak with him. In a letter written a few months after thermidor, she reveals that she was offered asylum at the house of Maximilien’s childhood friend Guislain Mathon, something that her brothers protested against, and it would appear like she did indeed not move in with him until after their death.
Charlotte would also appear to not have made the fight between her and her brothers’ known to her friends in Arras, as can be seen through a letter from the siblings’ step-cousin Régis Deshorties to Augustin dated July 18: “Charlotte Robespierre had promised to inform me immediately of your arrival to the capital. Not receiving a letter from her either on this subject or on any other letter of which she should have acknowledged receipt, I imagined (as several people had assured me) that you were going to come to Arras and that this was the reason for your sister's silence.” And Deshorties ended by asking Augustin to ”embrace Charlotte Robespierre and her girlfriends for me.”
If the relationship between Charlotte and her brothers had cracked down by now, Augustin’s loyalty towards Maximilien was as strong as ever. If we’re to believe the memoirs of Barère, some time after the passing of the Law of 22 Prairial on June 10, which had caused a lot of frictions within the Committee of Public Safety, Augustin entered the committee ”under pretext of giving an account of his mission to Nice; but instead of fulfilling this duty, he addressed me in a furious tone. ”You have maltreated my brother. We missed you on the 31st of May 1793, we shall not miss you on the 31st of May 1794.” He left still threatening us.” A month later, July 11, Augustin appears at the jacobins and ”complains that the lowest flatteries are used to create division between patriots: they went so far as to tell him that he was better than his brother: “But in vain,” he cries, ”would anyone want to separate me from him: as long as he is the proclaimer of morality and the terror of scoundrels, I aspire to no other glory than to share the same tomb as him!” 
According to Guffroy’s Les Secretes de Joseph Lebon, Augustin, like his sister, also set out to help the six ”persecuted patriots” from Arras. Guffroy writes that he, following Augustin’s return to Paris in June, wrote a letter to him explaining the affair. Augustin, who ”soon seemed to want to seriously help and serve them” showed the letter to his brother and later also succeeded in organizing a few meetings between Danten, Demeulier, Leblond and Maximilien. Guffroy claims to have been present at one of the meetings where it was just Augustin and the ”patriots.” Augustin would then have reproached him for ”having sought to harm his brother” with a note in his journal where he’d written he had more humanity and sensitivity than Maximilien since he was a husband and father and Maximilien was not. Finally, on July 22 or 23, Augustin brought Leblond and another one of the ”patriots” to the room of his brother, who starts a discussion with them. But Augustin soon makes the conversation revolve around other things than Arras, encouraging Leblond to ”tell my brother what it is you know about Carnot, against whom Duquesnoy has said that he’s going to bring papers and proofs on fifteen facts capable of guillotining Carnot fifteen times.” When Leblond instead starts talking about the despotism of said Duquesnoy as well as that of his brother, Maximilien gets mad and tells Augustin: ”Let’s go!” The two leave, but in the middle of the stairs Augustin turns around and tells Leblond: ”Damn beast, we should only talk about Carnot; why talk about the two Duquesnoys? My brother and the Committee of Public Safety have the biggest confidence in them… You’re lucky to be free… Duquesnoy!”
Finally, on July 27 1794, Augustin made good on his promise to share the same tomb as Maximilien from sixteen days earlier, when he with the following words asked to be included on the arrest warrant just issued against his brother by the Convention:
I am as guilty as my brother: I share his virtues; I want to share his fate. I demand an act of accusation against me also. 
The two brothers, alongside Saint-Just, Couthon and Lebas, were declared under arrest by the Convention around 1:30 PM. Around 5 PM they were taken to the Committee of General Security and served dinner, before getting seperated and taken to different prisons between 6:30 and 7 PM. Shortly before midnight they had however been reunited at the Hôtel de Ville, Augustin writing and Maximilien and Saint-Just putting their signatures on a letter urging Couthon to join them as well. Not long after midnight the building was stormed, and two o’clock in the morning a severely injured Augustin was carried into the civil committee of the section of l’Hôtel de Ville. According to the medical report, the patient managed to state the following before the pain became too much:
Proceeding to learning of the causes of the accident, the patient told us his name was [Augustin] Robespierre; that he voluntarily threw himself from one of the windows of Hôtel de Ville, to escape from the hands of the conspirators, because, having been put under a decree of accusation, he believed his death inevitable; that he never stopped doing his duty well at the Convention, like his brother; that no one can reproach him for anything; that he regards Panis as a conspirator, because he once came over to him and declared that Collot d’Herbois does not desire the good of his country in order to deceive him; Carnot appears to him to be one of the conspirators, who wants to surrender his country... 
The two brothers were eventually taken to the Conciergerie prison, before they six o'clock in the evening got driven to the scaffold. According to number 675 of Suite de journal de Perlet, released two days after the execution, Augustin was the second first to be guillotined, Maximilien the second to last. 
In her memoirs, Charlotte recalled how she on July 28 had tried to visit her brothers in the Conciergerie prison but been refused, shortly after which she too found herself arrested:
On 10 Thermidor, I ran through the streets, my mind troubled and despair in my heart; I called out, I sought my brothers. I learned that they had been taken to the Conciergerie. I ran there, I asked to see them, I asked with hands joined; I begged on my knees before the soldiers; they repulsed me, laughed at my tears, insulted me, struck me. A few persons, moved to pity, led me away. I had lost my reason. I did not know what was happening, what became of me; or rather I learned it several days later; when I returned to myself I was in prison.
How much truth there is to this account can be questioned. If there is no way to know for sure if Charlotte had attempted to see her brothers in prison, she on the other hand doesn’t appear to have ”lost her reason” more than necessary for her to take on her mother’s maiden name Carraut and for her and her hostess to leave their lodging and take cover at the house of one citiziness Béguin on rue du Four, section du Contrat Social n. 482. There, on 31 July, they were arrested alongside several other women. 
Brought before her interrogators the very same day (see this post), ”citiziness Carraut” admitted that she was ”Marie-Marguerite-Charlotte Robespierre, 28 [sic] years old, living on her income, residing with citiziness Laporte, rue de la Réunion n. 200, and this since about a month back.” When asked why she wasn’t residing with the Duplay family like her brother she responded that she had left since her brothers and Madame Duplay had asked her to, and that the latter also had ”reproached her for seeing counter-revolutionaries, among which was Guffroy, representative of the people.” As for her older brother, he ”resented her because she had the courage of letting him know the danger he ran by being sourrunded so badly,” his host family having taken on the quest to lose him. Asked about the fact her hostess’ husband was a member of the Revolutionary Tribunal, Charlotte responsed that she was unaware of it, but that ”she had known that, in the public spirit, her older brother passed for having appointed [people to] the Revolutionary Tribunal, of which she had almost been the victim.”
Finally, Charlotte was invited ”to declare if she had been aware of the infamous conspiracy that her older brother had been hatching and if she knew which were the men who frequently visited him.” Her answer was clear:
She responded that she loved her country so much that she had the courage to lament this diabolical conspiracy, that every time she had met him she had found the occasion to tell him that the men around him were trying to deceive him, that if she had suspected the infamous plot that was being hatched, she would have denounced it rather than seeing her country lost.
Charlotte ended the interrogation with implicating a man named Didier, who for a period of time served as secretary to her older brother, and who through that position had been appointed juror to the Revolutionary Tribunal.
At least three of the other women Charlotte had been arrested alongside of were they too interrogated on July 31, all three linking arms in insisting on the vulnerable position Charlotte had found herself in. Citiziness Béguin, Charlotte’s hostess at the time of her arrest, claimed that François Topino-Lebrun, juror at the Revolutionary Tribunal, had told a friend of hers to stop seeing Charlotte, ”given that Le Brun knew that all those who came to see citiziness Robespierre would be guillotined.” Like Charlotte, she claimed to know nothing about the conspiracy the two brothers were said to be involved in, ”she had however heard it said that if Robespierre came out victorious they would all be lost.” Citizinesses Girard and Canone did in their interrogation similarly reply that ”they did not know the people who habitually associated with the infamous Robespierre, that they had never seen him, that they only knew their unfortunate sister,” and that the reason they were arrested at citiziness Béguin’s house was because they had gone over there ”to congratulate [Charlotte] on the happiness she was currently enjoying when she was finally free from the infamous tyrants Robespierre who had never had another purpose but to sacrifice their sister.”
In her memoirs, Charlotte claims she remained imprisoned for a fortnight and got set free after her cellmate (a for her unknown woman) convinced her to sign a document, the content of which she didn’t read. No such document have however been found, and it might be suspected this is another attempt by Charlotte to portray herself as more loyal to her brothers than she really was… On the other hand, it seems like it would go against her goal to make her imprisonment shorter than it actually was, so that she only spent two weeks in jail is something I’m more inclined to believe. That would make Charlotte the one out of all of the women imprisoned for being related to a revolutionary I’ve been able to track so far that got out of prison by far the fastest. We might imagine she had her fallout with her brothers, as well as having contacts in the right places, much to thank for that…
Following Charlotte’s release from prison, we know through a letter dated November 18 1794 from her to her uncle that she stayed in touch with Antoine Buissart, who for his part already a few days after thermidor had hurried to abandon and denounce Maximilien and Augustin. Charlotte also appears to have kept contacts with Guffroy, whom the pamphlet Conjuration formée dès le 5 préréal [sic] par neuf représentans du peuple contre Maximilien Robespierre, pour le poignarder en plein sénat released shortly after Thermidor designated as one of nine deputies who since May 24 1794 had been planning on stabbing Maximilien to death in the middle of the Convention. This can be seen through an undated memorandum to the Committee of General Security where Guffroy can reveal that Charlotte’s health has deteriorated due to her many sorrows, that said sorrow is keeping her from making lace which she could use to make a living, that she owns nothing aside from her clothes, that her uncle has sent her some help, and that she at the moment is staying with ”one of our mutual friends.” He adds that he is ”well aware of the ingratitude and injustice of her brothers towards her, while she did everything for them in the just belief that they would not abandon her,” and ends by suggesting that the nation should ”offer her help so that she can procure furniture and a pension capable of sustaining her in the state of infirmity and languor to which grief has reduced her.” A while later, April 13 1795, we find a Committee of General Security decree signed by Guffroy and other enemies of the two brothers, proclaiming that ”wherever citoyenne Robespierre wishes to travel and retire, she deserves the confidence of good citizens and the protection of the constituted authorities, who are invited to lend her the aid and assistance that the purest and most civil good citizenship deserves and French loyalty must grant.”
The background to this is a letter dated March 14 1795 Charlotte wrote to the Committee of General Security to help her host Guislain Mathon who had come under suspicion. This is all she has to say about her dead brothers in it:
…One has assured me that citizen Mathon, commissioner of transports, has been denounced as having been a friend of my brothers, and I have no doubt that, whatever the pretext of this denunciation, I am the real cause of it for having accepted an asylum at his house since a few months back. […] I will not undertake the apology of Citizen Mathon. I will only tell you that, forced to leave my brothers, unjustly irritated against me, he had the courage to offer me an asylum with him in spite of their protests. He did not incite me into accepting it. I went to live with him when my misfortunes became greater and made me too burdensome to those who had first taken me in. 
This is the last conserved written material we have from Charlotte for over 30 years. When we find the next piece, her testament dated February 6 1828, her image of her brothers has however drastically improved, and she affirms that she has always recognized Maximilien as ”a man full of virtue” and wants to ”protest against all the letters contrary to his honor which have been attributed to me.” The story of how Charlotte following this moment reinvents herself into, as her friend Albert Laponneraye puts it in her funeral speech, ”[a woman who] shared [Maximilien’s] principles and his feelings, and had, like him, waged a fight to the death against the aristocracy,” might however be a topic for another day.
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coochiequeens · 2 months ago
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On the 35th anniversary of The École Polytechnique massacre never forget the 14 women who were killed for being women in science
The École Polytechnique massacre (French: tuerie de l'École polytechnique), also known as the Montreal massacre, was an antifeminist mass shooting that occurred on December 6, 1989 at the École Polytechnique de Montréal in Montreal, Quebec. Fourteen women were murdered; another ten women and four men were injured.
Perpetrator Marc Lépine, armed with a legally obtained Ruger Mini-14 semi-automatic rifle and hunting knife, entered a mechanical engineering class at the École Polytechnique. He ordered the women to one side of the classroom, and instructed the men to leave. After claiming that he was "fighting feminism", he shot all nine women in the room, killing six. The shooter then moved through corridors, the cafeteria, and another classroom, specifically targeting women, for just under 20 minutes. He killed eight more women before ending his own life. In total, 14 women were killed, and 14 others were injured.
The massacre is now widely regarded as an anti-feminist attack and representative of wider societal violence against women; the anniversary of the massacre is commemorated as the National Day of Remembrance and Action on Violence Against Women. After the attack, Canadians debated various interpretations of the events, their significance, and the shooter's motives. Other interpretations emphasized the shooter's abuse as a child or suggested that the massacre was the isolated act of a madman, unrelated to larger social issues
The incident led to more stringent gun control laws in Canada, and increased action to end violence against women. It also resulted in changes in emergency services protocols to shootings, including immediate, active intervention by police. These changes were later credited with minimizing casualties during incidents in Montreal and elsewhere. The massacre remained the deadliest mass shooting in Canada until the 2020 Nova Scotia attacks over 30 years later.[4]
Contents
Timeline
Sometime after 4 p.m. on December 6, 1989, Marc Lépine arrived at the building housing the École Polytechnique, an engineering school affiliated with the Université de Montréal, armed with a Ruger Mini-14 rifle and a hunting knife.[5] He had purchased the gun less than a month earlier on November 21 in a Checkmate Sports store in Montreal. He had told the clerk that he was going to use it to hunt small game.[6] He had been in and around the École Polytechnique building at least seven times in the weeks leading up to December 6.[5]
The perpetrator first sat in the office of the registrar on the second floor for a while, where he was seen rummaging through a plastic bag. He did not speak to anyone, even when a staff member asked if she could help him.[2] He then left the office and was seen in other parts of the building before entering a second-floor mechanical engineering class of about sixty students at about 5:10 p.m.[7] After approaching the student giving a presentation, he asked everyone to stop everything and ordered the women and men to opposite sides of the classroom. No one moved at first, believing it to be a joke until he fired a shot into the ceiling.[8][9]
Lépine then separated the nine women from the approximately fifty men and ordered the men to leave.[10][9] He asked the women whether they knew why they were there; instead of replying, a student asked who he was. He answered that he was fighting feminism.[9][11] One of the students, Nathalie Provost, protested that they were women studying engineering, not feminists fighting against men or marching to prove that they were better. He responded by opening fire on the students from left to right, killing six—Hélène Colgan, Nathalie Croteau, Barbara Daigneault, Anne-Marie Lemay, Sonia Pelletier, and Annie St-Arneault—and wounding three others, including Provost.[9][11] Before leaving the room, he wrote the word "shit" twice on a student project.[10]
The gunman continued into the second-floor corridor and wounded three students before entering another room where he twice attempted to shoot a female student. When his weapon failed to fire, he entered the emergency staircase where he was seen reloading his gun. He returned to the room he had just left, but the students had locked the door; he failed to unlock it with three shots fired into the door. Moving along the corridor, he shot at others, wounding one, before moving towards the financial services office, where he shot and killed Maryse Laganière through the window of the door she had just locked.[12][11]
The perpetrator next went down to the first-floor cafeteria, in which about 100 people were gathered. He shot nursing student Barbara Maria Klucznick near the kitchens and wounded another student, and the crowd scattered. Entering an unlocked storage area at the end of the cafeteria, the gunman shot and killed Anne-Marie Edward and Geneviève Bergeron, who were hiding there. He told a male and female student to come out from under a table; they complied and were not shot.[13]: 30 [11]
The shooter then walked up an escalator to the third floor where he shot and wounded one female and two male students in the corridor. He entered another classroom and told the men to "get out", shooting and wounding Maryse Leclair, who was standing on the low platform at the front of the classroom, giving a presentation.[13]: 26–27  He fired on students in the front row and then killed Maud Haviernick and Michèle Richard who were trying to escape the room, while other students dived under their desks.[11][13]: 30–31  The killer moved towards some of the female students, wounding three of them and killing Annie Turcotte. He changed the magazine in his weapon and moved to the front of the class, shooting in all directions. At this point, the wounded Leclair asked for help; the gunman unsheathed his hunting knife and stabbed her three times, killing her. He took off his cap, wrapped his coat around his rifle, exclaimed, "Oh shit", and then killed himself with a shot to the head, 20 minutes after having begun his attack.[14][13]: 31–32  About 60 unfired cartridges remained in the boxes he carried with him.[14][13]: 26–27 
After briefing reporters outside, Montreal Police director of public relations Pierre Leclair entered the building and found his daughter Maryse's stabbed body.[15][16]
The Quebec and Montreal governments declared three days of mourning.[15] A joint funeral for nine of the women was held at Notre-Dame Basilica on December 11, 1989, and was attended by Governor General Jeanne Sauvé, Prime Minister Brian Mulroney, Quebec premier Robert Bourassa, and Montreal mayor Jean Doré, along with thousands of other mourners.
The Victims
Geneviève Bergeron (born 1968), civil engineering student
Hélène Colgan (born 1966), mechanical engineering student
Nathalie Croteau (born 1966), mechanical engineering student
Barbara Daigneault (born 1967), mechanical engineering student
Anne-Marie Edward (born 1968), chemical engineering student
Maud Haviernick (born 1960), materials engineering student
Maryse Laganière (born 1964), budget clerk in the École Polytechnique's finance department
Maryse Leclair (born 1966), materials engineering student
Anne-Marie Lemay (born 1967), mechanical engineering student
Sonia Pelletier (born 1961), mechanical engineering student
Michèle Richard (born 1968), materials engineering student
Annie St-Arneault (born 1966), mechanical engineering student
Annie Turcotte (born 1969), materials engineering student
Barbara Klucznik-Widajewicz (born 1958), nursing student
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kakuchosearring · 1 year ago
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i like shiny things, but i'd marry you with paper rings, uhuh! // manjiro sano headcanons.
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‧͙⁺˚*・༓☾ final timeleap/final timeline!mikey as your boyfriend headcanons ☽༓・*˚⁺‧͙
━━━ ( ⋆。°✩ this ofc contains spoilers of the ending! ✩°。 ⋆ ) ━━━
✧ let's face it, mikey has a whole different outlook on life now. because of this, he's determined to make everything right, and he starts with the person he's been crushing on for years. he's spent so long trying to keep you away from him because he's been so scared of his dark impulses & what he could become that now he can't even wait. one of the first things he's doing is convincing takemichi to come with him to your house to introduce himself (and shoot his lil kid shot) so he can weed his way into your life quicker. you're stuck with him whether you like it or not.
✧ you asking him who tf he is and why he's banging on your little eight year old self's door at 5 pm on a tuesday definitely humbles him but mikey's just so happy to see your face that it's all worth it.
✧ his eight year old self 100% proposes the idea of 'getting married and being together for ever and ever'. you obviously go along with this idea and you two have silly talks of emma being at your wedding and all your lil barbies and shit will be there too. it's all innocent and so sweet and mikey cannot believe he took all of this for granted the first time.
✧ once you two are considerably older and actually a couple this time around, mikey is HUGE on touch. like, mikey's constantly wrapping his arms around your waist, hugging you from behind, grabbing your hands, etc. he's gotta hold you constantly b/c it's a nice reminder to him that you're real and you're HIS, finally.
✧ actually, as a matter of fact, i would bet my life on saying he never even technically made it official. you two started hanging out romantically and one day he just referred to himself as your boyfriend and you went along with it. you're the person he wants to be with for the rest of his life and he's gonna make damn well sure this happens.
✧ because of everything he's gone through and how scared he is to lose you (even if you don't quite understand it) he's super protective. he's giving every single person who even has the audacity to look at you the nastiest glares he can muster up. if someone's flirting with you, he'll walk up to you, wrap his arm around your shoulder, kiss your cheek and play super dumb. 'whatcha talkin' about?' cute puppy head tilt and all. this, somehow, scares people off more than his nasty glares.
✧ mikey can't stop talking about you to other people. like, i'm sorry to say, but draken is definitely sick of hearing your name because you come up every other sentence. takemichi hears about how beautiful you are and how you and mikey are gonna go to the park later or shopping or whatever -- and, of course, this honestly makes takemichi happier than anyone, because in this timeline, everyone has finally gotten the happy ending they deserve. you and mikey are no different.
‧͙⁺˚*・༓☾ wanna request smth? feel free, my ask box is open !! ☽༓・*˚⁺‧͙
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solar4seekstron · 24 days ago
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Before and So Forth - Chapter Eight: Megatronus, Sentinel, and Starscream
Transformers One x Cybertronian!GN!Reader
Solars Indie Series
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Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter Three, Chapter Four, Chapter Five, Chapter Six, Chapter Seven
-Timeline One: Sentinel
-Timeline Two: Starscream
Introduction Indie Series
Content: 18+, Megatronus is such a husband in this I can’t-
TW/Tags: Angst with Starscream and a bit with Soundwave, Megatronus is my beloved OMFG, a bit of sexual harassment, death, fake death, sad endings.
Notes: While writing this for some reason I imagine his voice sounding like Bryan Tyree Henry's voice. Silly but while writing for Megatronus here I was like “OH LORD THIS MAN IS MAKING ME FEEL THINGS-“ so- yeah-.
It was peaceful in Iacon. The light making its way through the cracks in the underground Iacon city. The Sun shines through the windows of many apartments in different directions.
Megatronus awakens in his berth as the sun shines over his optics. A small smile plastered on his dermas. Optics looking at his open window.
Showing the beautiful city around and above him. A perfect way to start the day. Meanwhile to same happening to another special bot apartment. Yours.
You woke up from your peaceful recharge as soon as the sun hit your optics. For the first time in a good while. A smile was on your dermas once awaken.
Soon, sitting up on your berth. You then stood up and started to get yourself polished.
During your clean-up, you soon felt a tug in your spark. Megatronus sending you a warm feeling through the bond as a good morning. You smiled and sent another one to him. You continued after he didn't respond.
Your frame is nice and shiny all over. You chuckled to yourself. Mostly like a girly giggle. Your pedes kicked a little in the air as you sat in a chair. After grabbing a piece of energy, you made your way to your door with a skip.
Primus you must seem ridiculous, soon flying to the tower. Making your way towards the entrance. Once inside you made your way into the halls. Getting closer and closer. That’s when you ran into the chest of Soundwave. Who was waiting for you at the corner of the hall? He knew you’d bump into him once you turned to the next hall.
The halls. We’re pretty quiet. Many must have been getting ready for a mission based on the report you received before waking up.
Before you could respond, he then grabbed your wrist. Pulling your frame back against his own. His other arm moves around your waist.
His upper frame leaned forward, making your upper half lean back.
He then played through his blaster the intro song of that drama series you and Shockwave watched the other day as one of the main mech characters' voice speaks over the sound. “Let us rule to city..together. With Our Passion My Love!.”
Soundwave acting according to the scene to the sound. Not speaking. You just stared at him for a moment before crossing your arms between you both.
Trying to hold in a chuckle while he remained looking at you. You then well nonchalantly your words, taking him by surprise. “This ain’t going be enough to change my mind Soundwave?” Soundwave helm lay low while you kept staring at him with a smirk. You are both still in the same position.
Frenzy then spoke from behind. “Well, we tried. Guess it wasn’t meant to be.”
Rumble hit the back of Franzys helm while Ravage just did a frog blink. Soundwave standing fully straight while still holding you. Finally letting you go and just looked down. You then placed a cervo on his shoulder as you spoke.
”We can talk about the success of the prime after the meeting. Alright?”
Soundwave just watched you while you made your way past him. You then give Rumble and Frenzy ‘the look’ as your pet ravages on the head. Fully passing them to one of the meeting rooms with Starscream and the other primes.
Not seeing Soundwave glaring at both Rumble and Frenzy who just chuckles nervously while Ravage scratches herself against the wall.
At the meeting. You took your seat next to Shockwave. His one optic followed you while he spoke to you. His optic even doing a full 180n as he watched you walk past behind him and then sit.
“Ah, Y/N how did Soundwave's little attempt at romance drama go for you?” His voice spoke with curiosity. You let out a chuckle.
”it was as romantic as he could make it. Sadly it’s not enough as it would in a TV show.” Shockwave let out a sigh and started to read on a data pad that was in his cervo while he spoke. “I remember when he tried that with me after we broke up. It didn’t work but I still appreciated.” He said so casually.
You were reading a data pad that was at your seat. Until his words are finally processed in your mind. You then turn your helm towards him in a bit of confusion.
His optic looking down at his data pad while he is reading. His one optic showing it. You were about to ask, not being aware of his and Soundwave's former relationship. But then you’re cut off when Megatronus's voice is heard.
Both you and Shockwave turn your helms towards him. You already had your usual smile on your dermas.
So it was harder to not let it grow larger as you watched and listened to Megatronus speak. “Now then my soldiers. Today is the day the me and the other primes go to the surface to end this war. Megatron's voice boomed. Sitting at the head of the table.
Alchemist and Nexus Prime were there with him. Taking their seats at both sides of him while he spoke. You looked down at your data with your usual smile.
The others did the same while he continued to speak. You glanced at him. Seeing that he was looking at you too. Your smile grew a bit larger as your optics stared down at your data pad once more. You know he’s smiling under his mask.
He then looks back at his data pad. Never have stopped talking.
“As for the rest of you, the order is that some of you stay here to keep watch and guard the city. More of the guards coming with us as a possible backup. We already made it clear for Soundwave and Starscream to be sure to reach any of you who choose to stay in case of any changes and emergencies. Is that clear?”
Everyone in the room nodded in agreement. You placed the data pad down while Megatronus continued. He continued while you listened. Looking at him just like Shockwave did. Mostly to not seem suspicious.
“Now we leave at 2. Arriving an hour before their meet-up. Keep your guard up and don’t disappoint. You are the high guard. You don’t just serve us primes. You also serve Iacon.” For a moment he stared at everyone else. He glanced at you for a little while longer before looking away. You knew he meant that on purpose.
“Dismissed.” He kept holding his larger datapad while the other two primes then started speaking. You walking along with the others next to Shockwave.
Your optics choose to glance towards Megatronus once more. But you noticed his optics seemed almost sad while he stared down at his data pad. Nexus speaking as Megatronus and Alchemist just nodded in agreement. You continued to walk out through the hall with Shockwave.
He made sure to wave you goodbye with his cervo. You doing the same.
Then looking down at your data pad while you made your way to the waiting room to join the others. That is until someone grabbed your arm. Stopping you. When you looked back, you were met with Starscream.
A frown as usual on his dermas while he stared down at you. You spoke. Your voice is streaky and calm. “Starscream? Is something up.”
He seemed to be in deep thought before speaking. His expression and optics are a bit softer. “This mission will be very dangerous. I would hate for you and your Conjunx to join us. Because we don’t know what to expect once there.”
He leaned down a bit. His voice grew quieter.
You just stared at him with your bright yellow optics. His cervo still holding your arm. You finally responded in a hushed tone. There are still others around you two of course.
”I’ll make that choice with my partner. So you’ll see me when you see me.” You can see the annoyance in his expression. You then leaned your helm up closer to his own. His own remained still while you both continued to stare at each other.
”Why don’t we wait to do this, after the meeting yeah? See you then.” You finally leaned your helm back. Pulling your arm away and walking away from him. Starscreams cervo is now down to his side while he watches you walk away with narrowed optics.
Seeming to be deep in thought. His optics continue to stare at you, while Soundwave, Rumble, and Frenzy Peaked your helms out from the corner of the hall looking at you walk away and Starscream still standing there.
You make your way closer and closer to the room. Descending to wait to speak to Megatronus before it was time. It was still morning after all.
As you got closer, you noticed this purple femme walking by. She was built differently than the bots who you usually see around here. She just looked at you with a side optic. A frown on her dermas before she walked into a room. Sentinel quarters..You watched as the door opened.
Sentinel was there holding a data pad. As you continued walking you’d noticed this strange red button on the data pad he was holding. He didn’t seem. To notice you when she closed the door behind you.
You looked down for a moment as you kept walking with the others down the hall. So, you kept moving forward. But then you got an idea. And start to make your way to the training room you always go to. That’ll be a good place to clear your mind and possibly wait for Megatronus call.
Once there, you made sure to take a seat on the floor. Close enough to the door without getting hit. You then pulled out your sword. Not being able to use them for a while. You then looked down at it.
Seeing your reflection, seeing your scar on your cheek. You’re optics unsure and scared of what’ll happen in a few hours. It’s only the sixth day of this damn week. Yet it feels so much longer. You then look up unsure. You felt certain of your choice before. But now.
Going against bigger Quintessons. You might not come back. Even if Megatronus is there or not. If you stay then you’ll have a better chance at surviving. Waiting for his return.
But would that make you less of a warrior? Maybe not.
Staying to protect Iacon is part of your job as well. You let out a choked sob. You didn’t even realize you were crying. Everything changed in more ways than one, this week. And now you’re down to a choice that can go bad in every other way.
If Megatronus ones return to you, then it can be the end of your current relationship with Starscream, Soundwave, and possibly even Shockwave.
Primus, why can’t life in Iacon be simple?
You didn’t realize you were sitting there for several minutes. You were so deep in thought. Only being able to be taken out of your thoughts when a larger cervo placed itself on your shoulder.
You then turned your helm towards the bot. It was Megatronus. You were about to stand, but his cervo on your shoulder kept you in place.
He then makes himself comfortable next to you. His cervo then holding the side of your waist he then pulls out his cog. Making his frame turn smaller and smaller next to you. His cervo remains on your waist. He noticed the worry on your face. Then speaking. “Don’t worry. The doors are locked.”
He let out a chuckle while he took off his mask. You let out a soft sigh.
“My apologies, Megatronus. I just. Well, don’t know what’s the right choice. I wish to stay to protect Iacon and come as backup. But shouldn’t I also join you in the fight? What if…” You sigh. “Megatronus these are the higher up Quintissons. What if I’m not as strong enough?
Megatronus other cervo gently held your chin. Making you look at him, making you stop. You stared up at him while he stared down at you. You then watched as he leaned down. Giving you a gentle and loving kiss.
You return the kiss. Your optics closing while you take the moment. His optics staring down at you.
His optics are soft and bright. His white optics admire your every feature. Your kiss remains. Quiet. Yet enough to be heard in the room. You let out a soft sigh between kisses. His cervo once holding your chin moved to gently hold one of your cervos.
He is the one to pull away before leaning down again to kiss your cheek. Then your neck.
Then your shoulder. Every kiss is soft and delicate. Your optics remain close. Both his servos holding you and keeping you close to his frame. Your cervos instinctively take their place on his shoulders.
Megatronus continued for a couple more minutes before he let out a deep chuckle.
“You speak as if anything will happen to you. I will never let anything happen to you. As long as I live.” He looks at you once more. His cervo around yours gives a good squeeze of reassurance.
“Remember Sweetspark. You are MY Conjunx. So when I return. No matter what choice you make. I better see a smile on your dermas and in my arms without wasting another second.” He said all with a smile. He then let out another deep chuckle while you just stared at him with unsure optics once more.
He gives you another gentle kiss on your dermas.
His dermas only a couple of inches from yours when he pulled back. Then whispering in his softer tone. “Tonight, I’ll be the one making the dinner. You just stay by my side and look wonderful for me my love. After all. You made sure your frame looked extra nice today. Didn’t you?”
A bright yellow blush appears on your cheeks. Your optics widened a little. He noticed you cleaned up your frame with an extra polish. He let out another deep chuckle. “Make your choice my love. No matter what. We will reunite with each other.”
”I Promise.”
You responded with a shaky voice. “I know you will. My Love.” You finished. As soon as his dermas connect with yours one last time. The kiss lasted for a whole minute until he finally pulled away. Receiving a call from Sentinel.
Megatronus let out a soft groan. His cervo once on your waist moves to his audio sensors to answer the call. His other remains on your cervo.
He talked through the call while you waited. Your helm slowly and hesitantly rests on the side of your helm on his shoulder. Almost hearing his spark while he continued to speak. His frame was so warm. The side of your frame, starting with your shoulder was against his front frame.
Your optics close for a moment while trying to at least enjoy another moment with him. The call was soon over and he let out an annoyed sigh. He looked down at you. Then placing a soft kiss on the top of your helm.
Speaking once more. “I’m sorry my dear. It appears we’ll have to head out earlier. Like..30 minutes..I deeply apologize.” You panicked a little. Sitting up a little more.
Your helm and frame were no longer on him as you spoke. “Megatronus-“
”Shh shh listen. Nothing will change. It’s just the timing. Make your choice. And whatever you pick. I’ll love you as you are.”
He gives you one last kiss before pressing his forehead against yours. Optics closed for a moment. Yours closing as well. “I..” You spoke for a moment. Before continuing. “I’ll see you then. After my choice.” You gave a reassuring smile.
His smile grew a little more. He then put back on his mask. “Until then, Sweetspark.” He stood up before you. You watch while he puts on his cog and makes his way to the door while his frame grows larger. His helm turning to face you. He then gives you a nod. Unlocking the door. Then walking out.
Once the door closes behind you, you feel a warmth in your spark. Megatronus gently pulls at your spark. You let out a soft chuckle, your cervo placing itself over your chest.
You let out a soft sigh. Sitting there for another few minutes. Optics are closed while you imagine everything from this week with everyone. To when Megatronus first placed his dermas on your own for the first time. When Starscream kissed your shoulder and the many times he spoke to you.
Shockwaves questions to you when you both watched your favorite show. Your small yet meaningful moments with Soundwave. Along with what Rumble and Frenzy said to you.
Not to mention everything with Sentinel Prime. The kiss he forced upon you. And the lady from earlier today meeting with Sentinel.
Your moment last night when you finally bonded with Megatronus for the first time after such a blessed night. And then. The moment of you and Megatronus in each other's arms. Sharing a wonderful kiss just from minutes ago.
A smile remains on your dermas.
You have to make a choice now. Thinking about both Megatronus and Starscream's words..what can you do? You sit thinking for just a few more moments. As many mechs words flow through your mind.
Until you finally got it.
You stood up. Getting in front of the door. Determination in your optics as the doors soon open. You taking a step out. For a moment you glanced down the hall across from you. Where the sentinel door was, where that femme walked through. You thought for just a moment. Looking down until you pulled yourself together.
Finally, your pede takes a step before you. Making your way to your destination.
————————————————————————————————
Timeline One Sentinel
You made your way to the left to the room where bots would be staying as backup.
Opening the door where you don’t see many bots. Just two. A purple femme and a green mech were currently speaking to each other. You made your way to one of the bleachers of the lobby. Waiting for orders by one of the primes or a superior. You then send a message of a feeling through your spark.
Megatronus meanwhile was getting his weapons ready. He felt the pull through his spark. Knowing what it meant thanks to the feeling. He smiled under his dermas and sent a pull through the bond.
Letting you know it’s alright. And an “I love you” through the spark. You smiled gently while the other two didn't pay much attention.
Along with the other high guard, Starscream and Soundwave were waiting for orders near the entrance for the other primes. Ready and sure of themselves to get started with the mission. Shockwave antennas move around now and then.
It’s been almost 15 minutes since. So you sat there and waited with the other two. The two not paying much toward you. Eventually, when the high guard was about to in a couple of minutes. Sentinel then opened the door. Walking in so casually as he spoke.
” Well isn’t this interesting. Three guards choose to stay to protect the city and then join the primes. The other two bots huffing while you remained silent. He continued.
”Well, I only hope you all stay on top of your mission because who knows who we might need out there.” His helm then turned to face you. You remained still as he winked at you with a grin. “So! See you three then. If we ever need you guys of course.” He chuckled making the others scoff.
He then gave you one final look with that damn smile before casually walking out of the room. Cervos behind his back while he walks out. The doors then closed behind him. Making the room silent.
After a few minutes, the high guard and Megatronus had already left. Out of nowhere, the room became dark. You looked around, using your night vision sensors as you looked around frantically. The other two bots doing the same. You then hear one of them speak. “Hey what are you-“
SLAM
You blacked out.
After several moments, your slumber almost pencil. You’re then jolted awake with a stinging pain in your spark. You soon feel yourself screaming in pain. Finding yourself in restraints by your wrists and ankles. This continued for a moment longer until someone stabbed something into the side of your neck.
This causes you to fall asleep once more. The pain leaves sometime after you knock out.
During your slumber. You began to awaken when you heard a faded voice. Slowly your optics became online. And your frame was soon hit with much pain over your frame. On your neck and your chest.
You felt that the restraints were no longer holding you down. You slowly sit up despite the pain, soon feeling a cervo on the middle of your back. But you don’t think much to react. Sentinel's voice slowly becoming more clear. Your frame then leaned to the side. Resting against it while he stood there next to you.
His other cervo holding the side of your waist while you continue to lean against him trying to gather your thoughts. He continued while you just listened. “Shh shh hey just calm yourself. You were knocked by those traitors of guards. Luckily my apprentice arachnid saved you.”
Your optics would open and close while he spoke. Megatronus's face with his smile soon appears in your mind. You start to try moving out of his arms and off the table you were currently on.
”T-The war. Meeting. They-“ Sentinel then interrupted you. He holding you firmly by the waist and arm.
”Hold on there Y/N. I’m afraid you’re too late.” His voice almost sounded sincere. You just stared at him in confusion until he spoke once more. Turning your frame to face him. Legs dangling off the table.
”I’m afraid we…” He stopped for a moment. You then spoke as you stared at him.
Being at the same height as him. “Sentinel, what happened? Did they win? Is the war over?”
He just let out a sigh. Staring you dead in the optics as he continues. “It was an ambush. And those two bots there. We’re meant to try to kill whoever was left to send word to the damn enemies. My apprentice was able to save you in time while I was out helping the primes…I was….the only one able to make it out I’m afraid.”
He watched you as his words set in. Your optics slowly grow wider and wider from the realization.
No…no no no! NO! “No that- that can’t be right!!! They’re the Primes they can’t lose!!! I- I have to go there. Maybe at least one survived.” You were able to almost get past Sentinel until he fully wrapped his arms around you. Holding you still as you got yourself to the floor.
Tears fell from your optics while you cried out. “No not them! Not them!!” Starscream, Soundwaves, Shockwave, and Megatronus images appear in your mind as you try to get out of Sentinel's grasp.
Their smiles and joyful optics appear while your optics start getting blurry from the tears.
Sentinel continues to hold you close. Not noticing his annoyed expression while holding you back from running to the surface. Minutes went by as you kept trying to get out of his grasp. He spoke next to your audio sensors as you kept struggling.
”You need to calm yourself. There’s nothing you can do now. This was hours ago! He’s gone Y/N. They all are! We are all that’s left now! Iacon needs you now! I need you by my side to carry on The Prime legacy! You hear me?!” His words boomed in your mind. Feeling yourself slowly stop struggling.
Your frame slowly stopped while you stared at the floor. Sentinel's arms remained still for a moment longer. Slowly letting go while he sat on the floor with you. Then getting next to you.
You then felt his cervo gently holding your chin. Making you turn your helm towards him. Tears still falling while he spoke. “You must stand. You are a part of the High Guard. With you, you can carry on the High Guard legacy, even if you didn’t fight alongside them today.”
He then helped you up after grabbing both your cervos. You stood as you continued to listen to him. “Many made sure I was able to escape so the city would at least have a leader to protect them. But I can’t do that without your helm.”
He helped you sit at the table once more. You continue to stare at him as he makes himself stand between your legs.
”You can either remain strong or join me by my side. And help me keep Iacon up and running. While I search for the matrix that Primus has set to be somewhere at the surface of the planet. Or..” He paused. Leaning his helm close to yours he continued. “You can leave. And be seen as a traitor and failure just like those bots.”
You stared at him confused. “Because I’m the only bot who can protect you. So what will it be? Because I won’t wait long this time sweetspark.”
You both continue to stare at each other. You then looked down between you both as you thought of his options. But the news of the Primes dead is still racing through your mind.
His cervo held your chin once more. So your optics stare at him. Instead of a worried Sentinel as of before. He was just glaring at you.
You felt your voice caught in your throat. Your dermas parted to try to speak but couldn’t. He then got annoyed. Speaking once more as his helm leaned a little closer to yours. “If I were you, I’d say “Yes Sentinel Sir.” Because I can’t promise that I’ll be a nice leader. Understood?”
You felt yourself shake a little more. You realized. This is Sentinel.
You most likely don’t have a choice. Slowly, very slowly. You gave a nod. Sentinels had a perfect smirk on his dermas while his optics stared down at you.
You remained silent. He let out a deep chuckle, his helm leaning to be next to yours. His cervos gripping the side of your waist once I spoke once more. “Glad to have you. My personal bodyguard.” He deeply chuckled once more.
Your optics open a little. Your cervos instinctively went against his shoulders when he pulled your frame closer to his own.
His helm turned to the side to press his dermas under your audio sensors as he whispered. “I’ll have my apprentice guide you to your new sleeping quarters in the Primes tower. Give you enough time to process your grief of Megatronus.”
Tears were still falling down your optics. Sentinel stood there with a smile for a moment longer. Then turning around making his way to the door. Once the door fully shut. The tears fully went don’t.
They were gone…truly gone now. You’re alone. Your cervo then moved to hold the spot where Sentinel placed a kiss. The feeling only stinging above the spot.
The same spot Megatronus kissed.
———————————————————————————
Timeline Two Starscream, Soundwave, and Shockwave
You turned right, heading to join the other guards for the mission.
Once out of the tower you flew alongside others to the surface. Once landing, you soon see that all of the high-guards army was there.
You continued to walk deeper and deeper through the crowd. Seeing the main three somewhere at the front. Soundwave seemed to be staring in your direction. You stared at him while he stayed still. But when he moved his helm to the side you figured he must not saw you.
So you continued walking until you were somewhere near the middle but still close enough that Megatronus could see you.
After some time, Megatronus has sent you another pull. Asking if you’re alright. You of course responded and let him you’re prepared to fight for the planet. You and Megatronus continue this dance for a little while more. You tried to hold in your chuckle when he teased and messed with your spark.
You then heard the other primes coming. Zeta was the first to transform and stand. The other Primes walked behind him. Megatronus then transformed taking his place near the end. His optics dim but you know he’s staring at you.
Finding you easily in the crowd. You glance at him. You both smiled at each other while Zeta continued.
You then felt a smaller cervo grab your own. When you looked down, you saw Rumble. You had a smile on his dermas. He wanted your attention.
You looked back up at Megatronus who was still staring at you. You then got a bond through your spark. Him telling you through the bond it’s fine, to talk soon, before looking around once more. You leaned down a little. Luckily the baits in front of you were taller.
Rumble then whispered to your audio sensors without being too loud.
“You’re one of the strongest bots who works well with Soundwave and Starscream. I and the others were thinking we’d have a better chance of defeating those tentacle monsters!”
You let out a soft chuckle at his words. You thought for a moment before you nodded in agreement. He keeps his usual smile.
He then put his arms up asking for permission. You then roll your optics before picking him up. Holding him like a little kid while you both watched Zeta continue.
Once he was finished, Megatronus then glanced at you one more time. He seemed to be. Holding in a chuckle when he saw rumble in your arms like a little sparkling.
Soon it was time to leave. Zeta then yells to encourage everyone.
“Now High Guard! Let’s show those Quintessons that we cybertronians are not to be messed with!”
Everyone including yourself and Rumble cheered along together. The Primes join each other. Everyone then started to transform and fly to the destination.
You stayed behind a bit to make sure Rumble gets to Soundwave.
You then notice Megatronus pulling away his arm from Solus. You seemed to be trying to talk to him. But he was fast to transform and leave her behind. Solus then flew behind him.
You then transformed flying behind the others. Eventually at the forest waiting with the other scattered guard for orders. The main three were nowhere to be seen. And so minutes went by.
The others were speaking amongst themselves while you watched the mountain. Waiting for at least a sign from afar.
But as you were about to turn your helm away. Everyone soon got a comm link to my Starscream.
“HIGH GUARD RETREAT! WE HAVE BEEN BETRAYED!!! THE PRIMES ARE DOWN EVACUATE TO THE FOREST AND SCATTER!!!!!!!!”
The warning became a surprise. You looked at the mountain.
Only to see Quintessons and…wait what are the iacon officers doing here?! They started to shoot. You and the others soon start running into the forest.
Getting further and further from the scene. And then out of nowhere, an immediate pain surged through your spark. It was the bond. You fell to your knees. Your body falling and dragging across the dirt.
Two of the cone heads grabbed your arms on each side and started to run. Helping you while the pain continues.
One by one more guards were shot from behind. Your pedes just kept moving.
Eventually, it seemed like almost an hour went by. You and a few others who weren’t shot were able to get far enough. It was dark out. You looked around as others did the same.
The cone heads who helped you out checked on you before going their seperat way to help the others.
You stood there for a moment until Soundwave appeared to you and the others speaking about what happened. “High Guard. We have been betrayed by the one we trusted. Sentinel Prime.”
The others looked at each other while you stared at him. Shock on your face with wide optics. Soundwave then sends a message through the comms of where to go. Somewhere sentinel can’t find them.
The pain was still there but a little faded. You walked closer to Soundwave. He noticed you struggling and reached his cervos out for you.
Helping you stand after the cone heads left. You then tried to speak. “Soundwave…the primes they.”
“I’m sorry, Y/N…they’re gone..and so are many of the high guards.” You started to tear up.
Your helm pressed against his chest as you felt yourself cheer up. Soundwave then gently wrapped his arms around you. Keeping you close as the others flew off.
You continued while he stared down at you. Rumble and the other cassettes in his chest watching.
After a few moments, soundwave spoke once more. Holding you by your shoulders to move you back a little. You stared at him once he spoke. “We must move. And not fail now.”
You both stared at each other for a moment longer. After a minute, you finally gave him a nod. His cervo wipes away your tears.
You both then transform together and make your way to the others at the destination. You both flew in silence. But while it continued your mind started to race.
Flashes of Megatronus smile. His touch. His voice. Was all you heard and saw.
Your frame slowly shook when you remembered everything he told you. How everything changed so fast all at once. Your life is so different now. Everything has changed now.
But at least here. You’re not alone.
When you land at the destination. Where everyone was at an abandoned ship. Soundwave was the first to transform before you. Once you did, you wiped away the tears from under your optics.
Soundwave placed a cervo on your shoulder as comfort. Starscream and Shockwave walking over to you both.
Starscream is the first to speak. “glad to see most of us made it out alive. Y/N you were able to get out thanks to two cone heads?” You stood a little straighter. Shockwave remained quiet while you spoke.
“There was a struggle on my part..” You turned your helm away. Shockwave stared at you while Soundwave looked down at you.
Starscream realized what you meant. Soon enough he stumbled with his words for a second before speaking. “Soundwave. Shockwave. Go make sure we know how many guards we have. I wish to speak to Y/N alone.”
The two stared at him for a moment. Then back at you. Returning their stares to Starscream before giving a nod. Then walking away to give the two of you some space. Starscream stared down at you for a moment longer before taking a step closer. His expression is almost blank.
He finally spoke. “He was one of the guards closest. Wasn't he?”
He asked curious. You just gave a nod. Starscream stays silent for a moment longer. He held your chin with his cervo. Making you look at him. Speaking once more. “This is our new life now Y/N> He would want you to live. So let’s survive and carry on the high guard legacy…understood?”
You stared at him with dry optics. Then at last speaking. “Yes, sir”
He then placed the cervo once on your chin to sit on your shoulder. Reassuring you, that you aren’t alone.
Happy New Year!
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youunravelme · 1 year ago
Text
it's nice to have a friend
author's note: this is a little all over the place, but i saw a tiktok edit of seven by taylor swfit and then thought to myself, what if i ignore all my wips and wrote childhood friends to lovers with a hint of childhood trauma? and this was born. and if the timeline isn't perfect with reality, oh well. i'm but a human girl. also!! if you have ever experienced or currently experiencing abuse, please know that it was never your fault. you don't deserve to be treated that way.
pairing: mat barzal x reader
summary: wherever mat went, you were never too far behind or the one where you are childhood besties
warnings: cursing (as always), mentions of parental abuse and alcholism, tumultuous childhood, drinking, mentions of sex
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there was a saying that floated around in your elementary, middle, and high school days, surrounding you like a warm oversized cardigan.
wherever mat went, you were never too far behind.
the saying could also be flipped, the two of you stuck to each other like glue.
mat, despite not being one for fights, had a bad habit of running his mouth whenever you were concerned. in fourth grade, he used newly learned vocabulary words to berate a girl who made fun of your beat up shoes and nearly got detention for it.
and you had a nasty habit of squaring up with anyone who looked at mat wrong, even if they towered over you.
your friendship worked well because of it.
age eight
you could remember summer days swimming in the pool with mat and liana, laughing as you and mat teamed up against his little sister until his mother scolded the two of you when she started crying.
but there was always a darkness that sat in the corners of your memories like fingerprints that had damaged an old photograph.
you didn't have to try to remember your parents' screaming and yelling at each other, just like you didn't have to try to recall the smell of alcohol on your father's breath. it didn't take any effort to remember the way your hands shook when you locked your room at night and climbed out of a second story window to go to mat's.
you could feel the splinters digging into your fingertips as you climbed the trellis up to his window. you could still feel the way your stomach dropped when you slipped and fell halfway up in the pouring rain, nearly breaking your arm in the process. you could still hear nadia come out and usher you inside moments before mat's eight year old feet came pattering down the stairs.
he didn't even give you time to explain, he just wrapped you up in a hug.
it took you that long to understand it was never raining, it was just tears.
the next week, you found yourselves at the park laying on your backs in the grass.
"what would you do if a genie gave you one wish?" mat asked out of the blue.
the summer sun kept you warm as the breeze kept sweeping in and blowing strands of hair into your face.
"get far away from here."
"would you bring me?" mat asked.
you turned your head to look at him only to find him already staring. "i wouldn't go anywhere without you." and you meant every word, spoke them with as much conviction as an eight year old could have.
mat reached out and squeezed your hand in his own.
"what would you wish for?"
he shrugged. "to be bigger."
you furrowed your brow. "why bigger?"
"so i could protect you better."
age nine
at nine, you and mat were playing cards in your room when the front door slammed. it was like you were on autopilot. of all the times that had happened, mat was never home with you. immediately, you were locking your door and shoving things in your backpack, pulling mat towards the window and climbing out as quickly as you could. the two of you ran to your bikes and biked all the way to an empty field where you collapsed in the tall grass and cried.
mat immediately brought you into his arms, hushing you and running his hand down your braids.
"what if--" he started stopped abruptly to clear his throat. "what if you stayed with me and liana and mom and dad? we could get bunk beds and a night light, if you want, and you wouldn't have to lock the door."
you just sobbed harder into his chest and shook your head.
it's not that simple, you wanted to tell him. but i wish it was.
age thirteen
you never moved in with mat, never got to get the bunk beds, but by middle school, your mom moved the two of you out of your old house. it was then that he started packing two lunches, one for you and another for himself.
things hadn't changed much since leaving your dad in that shitty house full of demons. you still spent most of your time at mat's house (your mom was working). still spent your saturdays going to his tournaments and games. you still cheered him on and let him cheat off your homework on sunday nights.
things shifted though, regardless if you wanted them to change or not. time, you found, never gave a shit about your opinion, thoughts, or desires.
because it felt like just yesterday, you were riding your bikes down the street, racing each other back home.
now, you were helping mat draft msn messages to a girl he had a crush on in your biology class. there was an uncomfortable sensation in your stomach that was comparable to the time you got food poisoning, but you couldn't place a reason for it.
you could paint the pink on his cheeks as the girl replied.
and you would've given anything to be the reason for it.
maybe it was silly, a small crush for the sheer convenience of it all. maybe it was the fact that he'd saved you so many times from the darkness that always seemed to follow you. maybe it was because he was a tether for you, pulling you back when you went too far in your head.
so when he laughed at something she said (which wasn't even really funny), you wanted to go back to the times the two of you would cloud gaze in the middle of the day just so you wouldn't have to be home.
age fifteen
you knew mat was a kind person, knew he was handsome and a good hockey player, that was never in question.
you just didn't realize other girls realized it too.
mat always walked in front of you in the hallways because he could make way through the crowds in ways you couldn't. (he grew like a weed over the summer and while you hated how you couldn't reach things when he held them above his head, you appreciated the way crowds moved out of the way for him).
you were used to him being in front, his grip light on your wrist as he tugged you behind him. you weren't used to walking behind his new girlfriend, chloe, who had the honor of walking beside him.
mat used to tell you how much it irritated him that people would take up so much space in the hallway and make it impossible to move around them.
but there you were, an awkward moving triangle of your best friend, his girlfriend, and you trailing pathetically behind.
chloe was cool. she never felt threatened by your friendship with mat, which might've hurt your feelings if you were delusional. you knew you had no chance with mat, so you'd take him in whatever form you could get him.
lately, that looked like spending time with liana in the stands at mat's tournaments. you would both do your homework before dissolving into gossip sessions while you braided her hair.
chloe even showed up for some games, smiling and cheering as he played. at one game, he scored and came up and tapped the glass in front of you, pointing at you and smiling.
they broke up two weeks later.
age sixteen
you openly cried when mat left for seattle. you were used to times when mat had hockey camps and would be gone for two weeks, a month at a time. but he would be gone indefinitely now.
and leading up to the day he was leaving, you thought it would be harder on you, considering mat hadn't shown anything but excitement. but when it came time for him to leave, he wouldn't let you go.
both of your moms had to pry you apart with promises that he would call and text as soon as he got to seattle.
and he did.
he hadn't even gotten into his new home when he was facetiming you.
you did your best to smile as he showed you around his new place, but your eyes were watering still. he was indefinitely two and a half hours away from you.
"you okay?" he asked when you stopped responding.
you gave him your best smile, but knew he wouldn't buy it. "just miss you is all."
he nodded, eyes going blank for a second before you saw water appear in them. mat wasn't as emotional as you were, and he for sure wasn't as teary eyed as he used to be when you still lived with your dad, but his eyes were watering all the same. "let's just treat it like summer camp," he said. "i'll be back before you know it, and if you need something, you can always call me."
you had no intentions of calling him with your problems, but then your dad showed up at your house screaming and beating the door and calling for your mother while she was at work. the doors were locked, he had no way in, and the police were on the way, but your hands were still shaking.
you couldn't run to his house to hug him anymore.
so you called him sobbing.
he picked up on the second ring.
he was lounging in bed, playing call of duty or something like it. "hey--" he cut himself off and paused his game, jumping out of bed. "what's wrong?"
"my dad," you sobbed.
mat was back in coquitlam in three hours, holding you tight to his chest and rocking you back and forth. you were openly weeping into his shirt, clinging to him. you weren't gonna let him go, and mat wasn't willing to give you up either.
you and your mom spent the night at the barzal's, with her taking the guest room while nadia brought a twin mattress into mat's room under the pretense that you would sleep on it.
you didn't.
everyone knew that you got into mat's queen sized bed and clung to him all night long.
just like everyone pretended that mat wouldn't have to leave in two days to go back to seattle.
just like you pretended like you wouldn't absolutely shatter on impact the second he left your sight.
age nineteen
when mat was drafted to the islanders, you stopped breathing. sure, it was dramatic, but you only moved into vancouver for school.
mat was moving across the fucking continent.
but he came back to seattle, and for a moment, the world was right again.
until he went to new york full time.
and the full weight of his absence hit you like a damn eighteen wheeler.
you'd watch him on the tv, when you used to watch him live in much smaller stands. you used to use puff paint to make t-shirts with his name on it, now they were selling his jersey in the arena he played in.
he didn't pick up the phone as much as he used to. he would respond to your texts days later until you stopped texting him altogether.
you should've seen it coming, especially when you saw him hanging out with instagram models and going out to bars. were you really expecting him to sit at home and wait for you to call him with a panic attack?
you had to get a grip.
so you did.
you threw yourself into your studies, pretending you didn't know his game schedule or stats. and when a cute boy named thomas came along and took interest, you allowed him to get to know you better.
you told him you grew up in coquitlam, that you were an only child, and your favorite school subject growing up was english.
(you never told him that your favorite color was the shade of mat's eyes, that you haven't spoken to your dad since the night your mom left him, or that every night, you fall asleep to career highlights of the best friend you haven't spoken to in months).
you learned he was a business major, something that should've been a red flag, but you were so focused on proving to yourself that you could be loved, that you overlooked it.
you went on dates, had sex, made plans for the future, met each other's families.
but he never met the barzals, despite the fact that you could drive to their house blindfolded.
no, they felt like a precious secret. the world could have number 13, they could have the calder memorial trophy winner, but you would not allow them to have the little sister whose hair you braided, the mother who brought you inside after you wrecked her trellis, the father who covered your scraped knees with bandaids and neosporin when your biological one was drunk at 2pm.
you might have lost mat to the awful curse called distance, but you would not lose his family.
you couldn't afford to lose them too.
now thomas, you lost a month after you turned twenty when you found him balls deep in your freshman roommate.
you went back to your apartment and cried, because it hurt, but mainly because you realized how alone you were. you had no one to call other than your mom or liana. but liana didn't even know about thomas, and your mom was dating a new guy now.
your thumb hovered over mat's contact for five minutes before you locked your phone and just went to bed.
age twenty-three
you were single for a whole year before you met dawson. his brown eyes and salt and pepper hair captivated you.
you were hooked, despite the seven year age gap.
he gave you the number to a good psychologist to help you work through your past and was willing to listen to you talk about it or sit in silence when your therapy session was emotionally exhausting.
he remembered your favorite flowers and brought a bouquet of them to your college graduation and kissed you in front of your mom and the barzals (minus mat, but that was a given at that point).
and on your twenty-third birthday, he proposed.
you said yes while actively trying to forget the dreams you and mat had when you were six.
you were building a fort in his bedroom with thumbtacks and blankets and sheets you'd stolen from around his house. when the project was complete, the two of you found yourselves laying in it, staring up at the blanket canopy shoddily held up by thumbtacks pushed into the wall.
"do you wanna get married?" mat had asked randomly.
"only if i get to marry you," you replied.
mat smiled a toothy grin, it was the only time you remembered him having imperfect teeth, given that he'd just lost his two front teeth. "i thought the same thing!"
and it was the most honest you had ever been. though, that wasn't a strange concept, most people were the most honest when they were either children or drunk. and considering you stayed far away from alcohol (guided by the anxiety in your stomach and the advice of your therapist), your childhood memories held the most truth.
despite not having seen him in years, you still thought of him often. you tried to see if you could remember the sound of his laugh without looking up an interview. you tried to recall the way his hair felt through your fingers.
but you couldn't.
it was crazy how much he meant to you as a child, how you still remembered the order in which he ate his breakfast, but you hadn't spoken to him in years.
you found yourself sobbing at the kitchen table one night as you poured over who to invite to the wedding. liana was a bridesmaid, mike and nadia had to be invited.
but what about mat?
you felt sick to your stomach at not inviting him. when you were in high school, when you'd gotten a grip on reality, you believed he'd walk you down the aisle in lieu of your piece of shit father.
but you hadn't spoken to him in so long.
though you couldn't imagine which would suck worse, not inviting him, or mat rejecting the invitation.
that was how dawson found you, sobbing over photos from your childhood that you wouldn't let him see. and when you tried to talk to him about it, he suggested talking to your therapist.
he broke off the engagement two weeks later. he said he didn't feel "the spark" anymore.
age twenty-four
you'd been out of college for two years now and all you had to show for it was debt and a stupid piece of paper. you were working in a coffee shop ten minutes from your mom's house and wishing you could've gotten out of coquitlam like mat did.
maybe this was your cursed existence, going to the grocery store wondering if you were going to ever run into your father again.
you'd just gotten off your shift at the coffee shop when you stopped by your local grocery store to pick some things up for dinner. it was supposed to be a normal day, but you turned the corner out of an aisle and damn near ran into someone.
"sorry, my bad--"
you looked up and suddenly the earth stopped in its rotation. you hadn't seen in him years but you'd know him blind.
his hands were around your elbows, keeping you upright. his touch almost burned you. it was an uncomfortable feeling, like putting on jeans you loved and realizing they don't fit anymore.
you pulled away, ducked your head, and started walking the opposite direction without another word.
but you should've known he would follow you, like a moth to a flame. or maybe that wasn't the right analogy, you were used to being the bug while mat was the light of your life.
but he followed you like there was a string attached to your wrists and he wasn't used to you pulling in an opposite direction.
he managed to catch up to you in the self care aisle right in front of the menstrual products. any other man you'd known would've shied away from standing in front of the tampons and pads as you deliberated which products to get, but mat's eyes wouldn't even leave your face.
you should've known he was going to come back eventually. you'd avoided seeing him in the offseason pretty well considering you were off doing internships and working out of town in the summer.
but now you were stuck in a dead end job with no passion for anything anymore, feeling more alone than you had ever felt before.
and because nature or god or the universe hated you, naturally, that was when mat showed back up.
when you had nothing to show for the years you didn't speak.
you could see the wheels turning in mat's head as he tried to think of something to say. it was an interesting turn of events that simultaneously sent an ache straight through your heart. when you were kids, he never hesitated to say exactly what was on his mind. now, he was deliberating.
"you wanna come over for dinner?" he asked. "mom's making tomato soup and grilled cheese."
you wished you could've denied him, it would've been smarter in the long run. mathew michael paul barzal could get you to do anything, and you hated that even after all those years, he still could.
you found yourself sitting at his old kitchen table surrounded by his family, dipping your grilled cheese into the soup like you were six years old again.
except the difference now was you were laughing with liana, sitting next to liana, instead of mat.
you'd occasionally meet his eyes from across the table, but it wasn't the same.
when you were kids, you sat next to each other at every opportunity. when you were kids, mat pretended to steal food off your plate. when you were kids, you knew everything about each other.
but you were adults now. and he was effectively a stranger you knew too much about.
after dinner, everyone scattered. you tried to leave, but mat caught up with you.
"what're you doing tomorrow?" he asked.
"working," you replied.
he nodded and looked around. "can i see you?"
you wanted so badly to say no, that you were busy, but as much as you wanted to pretend that he didn't, mat knew you better than anyone else, even if he had been absent for five years.
you ended up going for a walk in the park the next day, deciding that getting dinner wasn't worth the headache of mat getting recognized.
his hands were shoved in his pockets with a baseball cap pulled down low over his face. if you were brave enough to look over, you could still see his eyes taking glances at you.
"how's your mom?" mat asked, immediately jumping into topics you'd planned on ignoring.
you shrugged. "fine."
he nodded and scuffed his feet along the sidewalk. "how have you been?"
"fine." you sighed and pinched the bridge of your nose. you didn't mean to be cold, you meant it even less when you looked over and saw mat desperate for connection with you again.
in the end, you could never really deny him anything he wanted.
"life sucks right now," you admitted. "feel like i've wasted my life away here."
mat nodded along. "didn't you say your genie wish would be to leave?"
"i think my words were to 'get far away from here.'"
"you know," he started. "new york is far from here."
you couldn't help yourself. you looked up at him and saw the beginnings of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "are you being serious?"
he nodded. "as a heart attack."
could this be the moment? the moment your life suddenly comes back into color? things haven't felt right since mat left for new york, and maybe moving, being with him all the time, would fix whatever existential crisis you were currently having.
the two of you were packing up your childhood room a month later .
you were on a flight to new york city two days after that.
mat was bouncing on his toes when he picked you up from the airport, having come home a few days early to get his apartment set up.
"you have to meet tito," he said as soon as the both of you got in his car. "you'll get along just fine. my childhood best friend meeting my other best friend? things couldn't be more perfect!"
you smiled though you felt like dying inside. no wonder you two lost touch, you were too ashamed to message him and he was too busy befriending his entire hockey team.
the apartment itself was large. larger than you could've ever afforded, even in coquitlam. mat brought your bags to your room and gently placed them on the floor.
"do you need any help unpacking?" he asked.
maybe a bitter part of you wanted to say no, but you'd waited for this moment for years. you nodded and mat's face lit up like a christmas tree.
while he was putting your clothes away in the dresser, he told you about his team, about his career, and all that you missed. he tried to ask about your life, but you kept up the story that nothing much had happened to you. and for the most part, you weren't lying.
you hadn't spoken to your dad, you hadn't dated anyone seriously in the last year (you conveniently left out the failed engagement. you just got into town, and couldn't afford a plane ticket to fly back to coquitlam just to bail mat out of jail).
but mat was more than content to listen to your work stories from when you were working at the coffee shop. he asked questions along the way, and momentarily, it felt like everything was headed back to normal.
you shooed him out of the room so you could shower. it was kinda incredible how a nice apartment meant that his shower was better than any other one you'd ever had growing up. when you stepped out into the nicely updated bathroom and changed into some gym shorts and a t-shirt, you felt the full weight of your insecurities hit you all at once.
your mat lived down the road from you. he had a twin bed until he was fifteen when his mom could no longer ignore the way his ankles hung off the end. he had posters of sidney crosby hanging up on the walls of his bedroom.
but this mat had expensive bathrooms and egyptian cotton sheets. you didn't get to see it yet, but you were willing to bet he had state of the art kitchen appliances that he didn't fully understand how to use outside of making eggs.
you were fully ready to walk into the living room, where you heard mat clicking through what must've been streaming services (because he could afford all of them), and tell him moving here was a mistake. too much had changed, he didn't know you anymore.
but you walked out and saw blankets and sheets strung up, pinned to the walls with pillows on the floor.
almost on cue, mat's head popped out from the makeshift fort, a bright smile on his face. "i don't have bunk beds, but i thought this would be a nice alternative."
you could've cried. you almost did.
but you sat down on a pillow and watched a movie with him instead.
two months later
mat had introduced you to anthony the second week you lived in new york. anders and matt you met the next week. the rest of the team you met over the course of the two months you'd lived with mat so far. they were all nice, and you could see why mat was so enthusiastic about his job, his passion for the sport aside.
you met his "not-girlfriend" as tito called her the day before. ashley was nice enough, but clearly not in the same tax bracket as you, who had recently gotten a job working at an indie bookstore while you worked on grad school applications.
you pretended to be too busy to notice the ache in your chest when he held her hand, remembering chloe and the nasty sensation internally of insecurity bubble up. you weren't dumb enough to not know you were jealous, insecurity was a closer friend than mat was, you'd known her longer.
and if comparison was a sport, you'd be making more money than he was at this rate.
because if it wasn't the way ashley laughed, it was her smile, or her stomach, or the gap between her thighs.
or the fact that mat looked at her with something more than a savior complex.
you stupidly agreed to go out to a bar with him, ashley, and a few islanders that night. it was dumb, you knew that going in, but you were finally with mat again, why wouldn't you spend every free moment with him?
it turned out to be a mistake.
you were left sipping a diet coke by your lonesome while he was dancing with ashley. you knew you shouldn't have done it, it was a bad idea, but you found yourself at the bar asking for a shot of literally anything the bartender would give you.
but anthony slid into the seat next to you a beat later and fixed you with a knowing look. "where's your diet coke?" he asked.
your mouth dried up when the shot was placed in front of you. your heart was pounding and for a moment, it felt like you could've thrown up.
when you didn't respond, anthony nodded and stood up. "wanna go take a breather?" and he sounded so genuine that your eyes immediately welled up with tears as you nodded.
the two of you walked outside and stood in the cool air, letting the wind hit your wet cheeks.
you looked out onto the street while anthony texted on his phone. "do you want to go home?" he asked as soon as he slipped his cellphone back into his pocket.
you shrugged. "i don't know what i want."
that was a lie. you wanted to go back to a time where mat was just your best friend, before he was number 13 for the islanders, before he won the calder memorial trophy. you wanted your best friend, the one who raced you down the neighborhood streets on bikes, who drove three hours to see you when you had a panic attack.
you wanted a childhood that wasn't tainted with the darkness of your father's mistakes. you wanted to be able to go into a room and not immediately check if you could lock the door. you wanted to be able to fall asleep in a dark room without being deathly afraid.
mat was outside a second later, huffing and puffing like he'd just run a mile. his gaze was fixed on you almost immediately, while he ignored the way ashley hung off of him. "what's wrong?" he asked. he even went as far as to pry ashley off of his body so he could frame your face in his large hands.
in the corner of you eye, you saw anthony usher ashley back inside while you and mat had a staring contest. "what happened?"
you shook your head and tried to speak, but more tears spilled out. mat nodded and pursed his lips before grabbing your hand and walking you home.
he didn't say anything else until the front door shut behind you. you had no intentions of staying in the common area, you just wanted to curl up in bed and cry yourself to sleep out of shame and pity.
"what were you doing at the bar?" mat asked before you could go anywhere. "you still had diet coke in your glass."
your throat seized up at feeling caught, but you stood your ground.
"i didn't think you drank," he continued. "mainly because--"
"because my dad's an abusive alcholic? yeah, you don't need to tell me that, mat, i already know."
"so if you know that, why did tito see you order a shot from the bartender?"
you threw your hands up in the air and shrugged. "i don't know, mathew. why do you invite me to bars when you know i don't drink?" he didn't have an answer. "you don't get to shame me for considering having a drink when a bar is the only place i get to hang out with you during the season!"
"that's not--" but he cut himself off. "what're you talking about?"
"i hardly see you! why did i move across the continent if i have to go to a scary place just to spend time with you?"
"i--"
"i mean it's not fair, you left and now i have to pay the consequences of it--"
"i'm sorry, what?"
"you left--"
"i heard you. did you forget the part where you stopped contacting me?" you rolled your eyes to keep yourself from crying even more. "uh uh, don't do that. don't blame me without taking accountability for this friendship ending."
you blinked.
but mat wasn't done. "because i always called you back when i missed your calls. you were the one who stopped texting me."
"you were too busy!"
"i'm in the nhl! did you expect me to just be laying around my apartment all day? i have practices and meetings and games at weird times, but i always made sure to get back to you."
you said nothing, the tears welling up behind your eyes, but you kept them in. the verbal lashing from mat was enough, you didn't need to further embarrass yourself by crying too.
he kept going, yelling and waving his hands around, occasionally pacing and dragging his fingers through his unruly hair.
but you zoned out.
you could hear glass bottles rattling as your father came up the stairs. you sat on your bed, hoping to god he'd just keep walking. mat was out of town for a tournament, and you were grounded.
your dad stopped at the top of the stairs and looked at you. your heart was racing in your chest and you wanted nothing more than to text mat, but your mom had your phone. "what're you lookin' at?" he slurred.
it was only 1pm.
and your mom was still at work.
but he apparently didn't feel like bothering you because he turned into his bedroom and shut the door.
you could feel the air release from your lungs before you went back to reading your book.
but the peace never lasted long. thirty minutes later you could hear him yelling and screaming obscenities before he opened his door. you launched yourself out of bed and slammed your own door shut, quickly locking it with an efficiency you'd learned at a young age. the door handle rattled and you flinched backwards, nearly tripping over clothes on the floor.
but you weren't a stranger to this situation.
you opened the window and climbed out.
but he was ready for you this time because he was at the front door screaming at you as you rode away on your bike.
you didn't stop pedaling until you got to the park where you collapsed on the grass and cried.
something in your face must've changed, because mat stopped yelling and looked at you, really looked at you.
"hey," he said, voice much quieter than before. "where'd you go?"
you shook your head, tears falling down your face uncontrollably.
"don't do that," he said. "don't shut me out." mat took a step closer to you, but you immediately stepped backwards. he breathed your name, but something in his eyes shifted, like he could read your mind. "i'm not him," he whispered. "i'm not your dad, i'm not going to hurt you. you know me, you know i wouldn't do that."
"you left," was all you could say.
mat nodded. "i did, but i didn't leave you, okay? i would never leave you." he closed the distance between you and held your face in his hands, his thumbs wiping away the constant flow of water from the corners of your eyes.
"but--"
he shook his head. "no, you mean too much to me to leave you, okay? you're my best friend. if you had called me and needed me? i would've been there as soon as i could."
"you would've been too busy--"
he pulled back, a bit bewildered. "when have i ever been too busy for you?"
you held your tongue, knowing that it wasn't him per se.
"what is it?" he asked, his eyes searching your own. "what aren't you telling me?"
so you told him about how you hadn't talked to your dad, and even though you were thousands of miles away, you were still scared he'd find you and ruin your life even more. you told him about thomas, about how you thought he could be the thing that fixed you, but he cheated on you.
you told him about dawson, who was older and more mature. you told mat how dawson got you going to therapy which you thought was a good sign, until you realized he never actually wanted to talk about your bad days. he proposed, you said yes, and then he broke off the engagement when he saw you sobbing over invitations.
your eyes were too blurry to see the way mat's jaw clenched, but you could feel him pull his hands away.before you could even stop yourself, you stretched out for him, but he was just out of reach.
"mat, what," you weeped. "what's wrong?"
"you were engaged?" he mumbled. "you were engaged and didn't tell me?" you expected him to look mad, but the only thing reflected in those deep brown eyes was hurt.
"that's why he broke up with me, i was crying over childhood photos while trying to figure out if i should invite you even when we hadn't talked in years." you shrugged pathetically and gave mat a watery smile. "guess he thought it was too immature of me."
mat's hands were clenching and unclenching by his side, like he couldn't decide what he wanted to do with them.
"please don't hate me," you whispered. "i don't think i could handle it if you hated me." but he didn't say anything, mat just resulted to pacing the living room. "i think my dad fucked me up beyond repair." your eyes never left his profile. if he wouldn't look at you, that was fine, you'd continue to stare at him. "i think i'm too codependent and messed up for anyone to love me." mat's head snapped up at that comment.
"i mean," you continued. "i wasn't enough for my dad to get sober, i wasn't enough to not get cheated on, i wasn't enough for someone to marry me. maybe it's not them. maybe i'm the issue."
"no," he said immediately, shaking his head in the process, crossing the room until he could pull you into his chest. "no. that's not true."
"yes it is! my dad doesn't love anything more than alcohol--"
mat cut you off. "anyone would've been proud to have you as a daughter."
"thomas wanted my freshman roommate--"
"thomas was an idiot."
"dawson couldn't handle me when i wasn't happy--"
"fuck him too. he was thirty dating a college student."
"and you left and i--"
mat pulled you back far enough to look you in the face. "and if i could do it all over again, i'd take you with me." he pressed his forehead against yours. "here's what we're gonna do, we're gonna make a fort and watch the mighty ducks. and tomorrow, we're gonna find you the best therapist money can buy and set up an appointment because i don't like you talking about yourself this way." your stomach twisted at the idea of therapy, hesitant because of dawson-- "and i wanna hear as much as you're willing to tell me, okay?"
you nodded.
"now, i need to see you smile so i know we'll be alright." you gave him a watery smile right before he pressed a kiss to the top of your head. "there she is."
you held onto each other for another minute before reluctantly letting go to gather blankets and pillows.
four months later
you hadn't been able to make it to many of mat's games until tonight when they played the devils at home. you sat with sydney and grace and their kids.
earlier that night, you'd gone to your therapy session and cried your eyes out. after years of feeling like you weren't a human being worthy of love, you just started seeing value in just existing.
and mat was as supportive as ever. he gave you space after therapy sessions to process until you were ready to talk to him, if you wanted to. the two of you made plans to hang out at cafes and central park rather than at bars every weekend.
"look at your man go," grace nudged you with her elbow. "he's feeling good tonight."
"i'm sure it has everything to do with you being here," sydney commented. "i've never seen that man more in love than he is right now."
you could feel the heat crawl up your neck as you shook your head. "he's my best friend."
"a best friend who loves you so much, he's willing to keep things platonic for your sake."
almost immediately, an insecure thought popped in your head, but you stopped it in its tracks, imagining the thought on a conveyor belt, moving down the belt until it was out of sight completely.
your shoulders relaxed.
you deserved to be loved, and it if was mat, great.
if not, you'd still have him as your best friend.
a buzzer sounded through the arena and a quick glance at the ice told you all you needed to know. mat was skating into a cluster of his teammates, smiling wide before pointing up at where he knew you were sitting.
grace and sydney jostled you around a little while fans, male and female alike, screamed at the idea of the mat barzal pointing at them.
when the game ended (5-4 with the islanders win), you followed sydney and grace down to the locker rooms. you met up with the other wags and smiled when they greeted you. some chatted and passed time while others rocked babies in their arms. you however were anxiously looking through your photos on your phone, specifically the album labeled mat that you'd had since you'd first gotten an iphone. you didn't glance up until you hear the sound of doors opening.
mat was the seventh person out, not that you were counting. he wore a bright smile when he saw you standing there and immediately crossed the distance between the two of you to wrap you in a huge hug.
"how was therapy?" he asked.
you rolled your eyes but couldn't help but smile. "why do we always talk about me?"
"because i care." he lightly nudged your shoulder. "so how did it go?"
"it was good, actually," you remarked. "figured out and accepted that i deserve love."
if it was even possible, mat's smile got wider. "yeah you do."
"and maybe there are people waiting around for me to figure it out..." you trailed off before shyly meeting his gaze. and before you could stop yourself, before you ran out of courage, you stood on your tiptoes (like you've been doing since he hit his growth spurt in seventh grade) and pressed a kiss to the corner of his lips.
you lingered for a moment before pulling away and loooking up at your bewildered best friend whose mouth was wide open.
"what?" you asked. "did i read that wrong? sydney and grace said--"
"that's all i get?" he asked. "i've waited for this since i was six years old and i don't even get the real thing?"
you furrowed your brow. "what're you talking about? six years old?"
but mat was leaning in and capturing your lips with his own. "six year old mat had the biggest crush on six year old you," he said.
"and what about twenty-four year old mat?"
he kissed you again. "head over heels for you."
age twenty-six
after a less than stellar playoff run, you and mat headed back to canada for a portion of the off season, mainly to visit family.
but it was also nice to get out of new york, even if it was just for a short period.
in hindsight, you should've known something was going to happen. your mother, nadia, and liana took you to get your nails done and to grab lunch while you were out shopping. but you were so caught up in how nice it was to be back home (words you never thought you'd ever say), you paid no attention to the lack of mat time.
so when you walked into the backyard of his parents' house and saw a giant projector screen with blankets and pillows strewn about to make yet another fort, you almost cried.
mat's head popped out from the middle with a smile on his face until he saw the tears in your eyes. "why're you crying baby? this is supposed to be happy!"
"i love you" was all you could blubber out.
mat laughed to himself, taking your hands in his own. "i love you too baby." he knelt down and the tears kept coming down your face. "ever since i was a kid, i thought i'd be the one walking you down the aisle to the man you'd marry because i never thought you'd be crazy enough to fall in love with me."
you scoffed. "i'm definitely the one batting out of my league here, mathew."
"don't talk about the love of my life that way," he said before continuing on. "we've gone through a lot together, and i couldn't imagine getting through life without you by my side." mat took a deep breath. "so tell me, do you wanna get married?" mat asked.
you nodded through your weeping. "only if i get to marry you," you smiled.
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