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so the whole ansur subquest thing is just the reorganizing the journal, giving it a label but it's still under wyll's quest. i feel like larian needs to be clearer with their patch notes bc the same thing happened last time with gale 😭
#.txt#still doesnt excuse the lack of other wyll stuff but. yknow. good to have clarity on this one at least#and i feel like the ppl's reaction on this one in particular is understandable bc. this is not the first time content was removed from wyll#or deprioritized. ya know
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Heart of Gold
CisFem Reader x Trafalgar Law
CW: ptsd, trauma, depictions/implications of suicide and suicidal ideation, language, violence, blood, canonical character death, mature themes and events 18+
Chapter 5: Full
“I object.” You say, standing on the nearly barren island. You wore the small bell, even though Law had suggested leaving it in your room.
“You’ve been objecting since we started looking for an appropriate island.” Law grumbles back at you. “But by your own admission no one has died because you lost control of your emotions.”
“It has been a year since I last felt anything.” You say. “It could be overwhelming.”
“The longer we postpone this, the higher the chance it will be.” He agrees, as he hands you the golden heart.
“My intent was to never restore them.” You repeat. This conversation has circled between you and the captain for the last two weeks while the crew searched for an island devoid of people and animal life – much as could be found.
“The problem with that, is that there are people who are already looking for that heart.” He replies automatically. Law had realized the sixth or so time through this same conversation that you weren’t trying to piss him off. You were just stating the facts the best you could without any emotions to guide you.
“We could allow a sea king to eat it.” You offer.
“And once the stomach acid eats through the gold?” He asks. It’s interesting you’ve come up with a new point to your argument now that you’re both on the island.
“… It is… better to control the return of my emotions knowingly, than to randomly have them returned to me.” You say after a moment. “The logic is sound, but-.”
“I know.” Law interrupts. “Your intent was to never restore them.”
“… I have been repetitive.” Law glances at you from your statement but doesn’t say anything. You see a slight smirk on his face, but nothing else.
“I’m not going to force you,” he says after a moment. “But this is the best opportunity I can create for you, and after this we can stay submerged for an extended amount of time. You’ll have the safest, most secure environment to adjust that’s available.” He’s explained this before, but there’s something less intense coming from him now that the moment’s on the horizon. “The entire crew has medical knowledge. Bepo, Hakugan and Ikkaku are adept crisis counselors, and even Penguin and Shachi are good with emotional therapies.”
“You are not.” You mean it as a question, but it never comes out that way.
“My focus is on the physical.” He answers evenly. “But you can turn to anyone on the crew. Even me. There’s nothing too small, and you’re not going to irritate or annoy any of us. Your situation is unique, (Y/N)-ya.”
“… Thank you.” You say after a moment. Law looks down at your quizzically. “I am no one to you and your crew. I am a danger and a liability. You have provided me with clothing, food, and sanctuary. Now you are offering me medical attention and support so that I may be made whole. I have not, in all this time, noticed any duplicity or concerning behavior. You are not doing this to exploit the result, of that much I am objectively certain.
“As such, I wanted to provide my thanks now, in case they are deprioritized after this.” You bow toward him and can feel him tense a little.
“Thank me after we get you through whatever happens.”
You shake your head. “Regardless of the outcome, the intent is appreciated.” You hold out the heart. “You have said you can safely unseal this. Please do.”
Law looks out to the Polar Tang, far enough away from the island to be safe, close enough for him to transfer the two of you to it swiftly. Your mind is made up, and he’s been pushing for this for the last few weeks.
“Room.” Law commands, and the color shift of his power spreads out. There’s a flicker on your face, recognition of the ability.
“Inheritor.” You murmur softly as the glimmer of steel from Kikoku neatly slices the golden heart.
“What?” Law’s eyes widen and he moves to re-seal the heart to ask you what you meant, but the force of the release overwhelms him. His hat is gone just before he growls a curse as the strange force from the heart lifts him off the ground and tosses him back.
The wind has no effect on you. The remains of the golden heart thrum and shatter, cutting shallow lines into your skin, but not doing any real harm. The ground juts up at his command, catching Law and letting him brace against it.
Swirls of colored lights shifted and twist amongst one another, shifting from the shape of a ball to a heart to a hand and finally it appeared to be reflective of your body. The small version of yourself walks across the air and into your chest.
When the light disappears into you the wind vanishes. Smooth thin cuts mar your skin along your arms, torso and face, but you pay them no mind. Law slides down from the rock he’d been braced against, his hat appearing in his hand as he slowly approaches you.
Your hands are still out in front of you, cradling a heart that’s no longer there. Twitching around a small display of light that has disappeared into you. Thin lines of blood shifted along your skin, the thin sharp cuts already healing enough to stop bleeding more.
The crunch of his steps on the ground seem to grab your attention and you look up at him. He freezes, the look in your eyes, the tremble in your expression, the shiver in your body. Still as you are, there is more life in you than he’s seen in the last few weeks. The circle of conversation between the two of you plays in his mind, the persistence of it. The certainty of it.
The empty tears of voided joy as you ate food that tasted so delicious to you and was so common for the crew. Your first hug from Bepo and your flat statement that he was lulling you into a sleep you didn’t want. The soundlessness of the bell around your neck to the point that you began to speak for it. Your near-constant assistance of crew members and your focused reading.
The bell around your neck starts to make a noise with the growing intensity of your trembling body. It wasn’t just a twitch in your fingers anymore, but a knot in your stomach. Your arms shivered and your legs were almost failing at keeping you upright.
Your body aches. Your heart hurts from memory. Joy and sorrow and guilt and love twist in your soul and years of memories begin to paint themselves onto your body. Feelings you hadn’t felt when the events themselves had happened now stain your bones. The thundering pulse of your heart throbs in your skin. The air pricks your skin as if every molecule has your undivided attention, every breath scratching you like glass.
You can feel.
Your voice is quiet, but he hears you, your emotions threading into his ears like a needle.
“They are gone. I could not save them, and they… are… all…” Tears burn your eyes, and you can’t hold back the flood that breaks free from you. Collapsing to your knees you wail. You scream your misery into the sky as tears drip off your face and roll onto the ground.
Law steps toward you after a moment. It wasn’t fear from the tears that had held him back, it was the melody of your voice. It was full of pain, but it was full. Hearing it for weeks he had gotten used to it, but the sheer emptiness of it held him in place for a moment once he heard you now.
Getting on his knees in front of you, he pulls you into a hug, letting you cry against him. The feeling of your tears, sliding down his body as beads of glass was an unusual sensation, but knowing that they were incased in glass meant he didn’t have to worry about what was inside them. When you shifted your face, crying into his shoulder, he flinched a little, but realized quickly the tears needed to be encased in air to change.
What soaked into his shirt were just tears. Given the way the world worked, it was far from the weirdest thing he’d ever witnessed.
Tattooed fingers brush over your hair quietly. He doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t try to calm you for long moments, until you start to hiccup and struggle to breathe, and then he rocks you and speaks quietly, trying to soothe you. He assures it that it’s okay, that you can cry more if you need to, but you have to breathe.
Your hands clutch onto his shirt as you focus on breathing, trying to calm yourself down.
“B-Bepo,” you stammer the words.
“I can get him, if you want.” Law offers quietly.
“Wuh-wuh-was going to-to make duh-dinner.” You’re struggling to force the words out past your gasps and sobs, but Law doesn’t rush you. “I was guh-ugh-hnngh,” you cry harder for a moment, you’re trying to distract yourself from your memories, but it’s a hard push. “Help.”
“It’s okay if you can’t.” He assures you. “Bepo will understand.”
“Wah-want.” You insist, just barely beginning to quiet down more.
“You’ve got time.” He promises, cradling your head with one hand and rubbing slow circles against your back.
“It hurts.” You say after a moment, your grip on his shirt shifting the garment in frustration. You’re beginning to calm enough to speak more clearly through the sobs.
“I know, (Y/N). I’m sorry.”
Your grip tightens and you shake your head. “I do not mean it that way.” You put your arms around him and hug him tightly, chin resting on his shoulder. The energy behind your embrace, and the closeness of it causes him to stiffen slightly, but he pulls you close and lets you sink into him.
“Thank you.” You say, tears quietly slipping down your raw and swollen face. Your voice is hoarse, and you are nearly exhausted from crying, but you are whole.
You are full.
For the first time in centuries, you could properly mourn your losses. You could shed tears for your friends and family, for the people who died to protect you. You could feel the anger and sorrow and frustration and pain and it hurt, by the seas it hurt deeply but there was relief on the other side of that pain.
“Thank you.”
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"I imagine you, like her, find me a selfish woman."
Powdered the wolves and took all their stuff after working with them to defeat Edward Conventry. If Vera didn't, the wolves would have been dead. The wolves at that point were considered enemies by The Order, and what did 4 wolves have against an entire ancient secret worldwide organization. They did not stand a chance.
Gave the wolves an unfair alliance/amnesty for theft/terms of surrender after she realized they got their memories back. Also, her covering up for the wolves was a move to save her own skin. Why not cover her own ass? She's got every right to. Unfair alliance? I'd come up with petty terms like a dress code if a couple of wolves almost cause the end of the world because they didn't think things through and acted petty as a way to get back at me. Tit for tat, I say. And frankly, the wolves really did not have much of a leg to stand on if you ask me. They did almost cause an apocalypse. Yes, because they were getting back at Vera for taking everything from them. Yes, but see no. 1.
Power hungry just like her predecessor. Kept the Vade Mecum instead of destroying it. She's fallible like everyone else. The Vade Mecum is kinda like the one ring, right? It tempts. Vera was tempted by it's power, but she did not succumb. That's more impressive and shows more strength of character than if she weren't tempted at all if you ask me.
Deprioritized saving Lilith and focused on Praxis. Praxis was a threat that affects innocent lives- the lives that, ya know, the good guys are supposed to protect above all else, even their own. It's in every hero handbook for crying out loud.
Will not just give the Fors Factorum to Praxis. That should end all the bloodshed if we believe Salvador. Praxis just wants the Fors Factorum. From Vera's POV, the Fors Factorum will do more harm than good when shared to the people. Sure, maybe that's playing god, but she is not doing it from a place of greed and control. She's not doing it because she wants the power all to herself. She's doing it because she believes the Fors Factorum is harmful, and she does not want anyone else to go through what she did (going by the assumption she performed it at some point. Still not sure what really went on there.)
No snark for this last one. Vera lost her magic. Alyssa took her magic- the one thing that means the most to Vera if we are going by face value (I'd argue what's most important to Vera are her students/disciples). Vera still would not give the Fors Factorum because innocent lives/other people over her own. One might argue that Vera said she never believed Alyssa would give back her powers even if she gave the Fors Factorum. Fair. Let's remove the Fors Factorum from the Vera/Alyssa equation. See no. 5. Hamish presented a solution to Vera's magic problem - eat Alyssa's heart. Vera never suggested that. She never pushed for that. I'm pretty sure at that point she knew how the eating heart thing worked. She's smart. She'd have that intel by that point. But there was never any indication that she went Hamish, honey, love, please eat Alyssa's heart. Let's be done with this, so we can go back to fucking on my desk.
Against her better self, she gave in to her attraction to Hamish. She knew getting into bed (literally) with the leader of the wolves was a bad idea, but she went for it anyway. I got nothing for this one. I mean, yas queen! You deserve to put yourself first every once in a while.
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