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Summary
She is not his. He is surely not hers. This does nothing to change the paths his fantasies wander down.
In half-forgotten dreams the faceless form of soulmate mixes and entangles itself with the too-clear face of her and they become one writhing, twisting, entangled mass. There is a mire that swallows him up, a gaping maw, and Crocodile allows himself to tip into it headfirst. He is too deep. He has crossed a line.
Crocodile lets himself fall.
Nico Robin and Sir Crocodile, coming together despite a lack of any real trust, despite their soulmates being other people.
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After a fight, Crocodile requests a clone of Doflamingo to use for target practice. He does not realize they will never see each other again.
This is unrated but probably between T and M for body horror, mild gore, implied sexual content. Mind the warning.
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They decide on Paris. It's a matter of convenience mostly. It is closer than anywhere else they would chose so no one can really object to the idea; they're both of age and they have each other.
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If Moriarty were Napoleon, she'd be her Waterloo. Sherlock, her Austerlitz.
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"Before I knew it, I had a wife I did not know. I did not love her, but nor did I dislike her." He stares through her as though she is made of smoke, and she feels as though she shares this house with a stranger.
Series
- Part 1 of Textual Ghosts
