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#cw blood
greykolla-art · 1 day
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Dropkicks this thing out of my Procreate gallery before I ruin it with more filters.
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somewhatidealname · 3 days
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am i interrupting something
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meggahamicide · 2 days
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CW: blood and gore! ⚠️⚠️⚠️
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Takin’ a break from writing to do some doodlin’ and got carried away…
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Alastor is too injured after the battle with heaven to leave the radio station and no one finds/looks for him for some days.
He gradually grows weaker, can barely get up to eat or even go to the washroom, feeling completely broken, opressed by the pain, humilation and self-disgust, as well as loneliness.
When someone finally does come to his aid, he believes it is a delirious mirage, hearing voices as in a dream...the visitor is horrified by the state Alastor is in and tries to treat his wounds, clean him, take him somewhere safe.
Feel free to imagine the rescuer as a character of your choice who cares for him 🥺
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solargeist · 1 day
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winner ! winner !
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tamelee · 2 days
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elven-kisses · 3 days
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delulluart · 2 days
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Cardinal Copia for @lilspacewolfie 's Devil!Terzo AU
with two bonus versions - spoopy and regular Cardi
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kana7o · 3 days
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All they have is each other
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benjimatorarts · 3 hours
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We have to leave this dressing room cleaner than when we arrived!
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fairuthea · 2 days
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Angel with a shotgun? WRONG.
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"ANGEL" WITH A METAL BAT!!!
Inspired by @bumblehoneybee stories of child/teen!reader, me think I should make a chaotic child.
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She's a menace to Playtime Co's toys :)
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iamfabiloz · 6 hours
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Cut that always bleeds 🩸🩸🩸
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turtletaubwrites · 2 days
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Misty Eyes ~ Part 3
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THIS FIC CONTAINS DARK CONTENT. 18+ ONLY. MDNI. *This part contains two Doffy flashbacks with a graphic depiction of violence including blood, murder of an unnamed character, and the reader being sick, as well as implied sexual encounters. Doffy flashback sections are marked between these symbols ~🦩🦩🦩~ so you can skip past them if you'd like. The chapter begins with one of these graphic memories, but ends with some Hurt/Comfort & sweet fluff!
Pairings: Trafalgar Law x Fem!Reader, Doflamingo x Fem!Reader (Past & Flashbacks)
Word Count: 5768
Misty Eyes Masterlist
Ao3 Link
Summary: You try to acclimate to life aboard this yellow submarine, but your past keeps tearing you apart. All that Doffy made you do feels like a stain on your soul, and you're afraid you'll never be clean.
Author's Note: This one gets really fucked up, but I hope the sweet ending makes up for it! 🖤 I have added the dead dove do not eat tag, so please heed the warnings, and do not read if they might be triggering for you.
Thank you so much @pinejayyfor this delicious request!!
Rating/Warnings: Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Explicit Sexual Content, 18+ ONLY, MDNI, AFAB!Reader, She/Her Pronouns for Reader, Reader-Insert, Devil Fruit User Reader, Swearing, Eventual Smut, Angst, Pet Names, Degradation, Punishment, Emotional Abuse, DARK CONTENT, DUBCON, Grooming, Trauma, Past Sexual Abuse, Manipulation, Power Imbalance, Dubious Consent, Donquixote Doflamingo is His Own Warning, Bondage, Dissociation, Inappropriate Use of Akuma no Mi | Devil Fruit Powers, Kissing, Shame, Blood and Violence, Vomiting, Minor Character Death, (unnamed character), Sparring, Childhood Memories, Chaste Childhood Kiss, Teasing, Tickling, Yandere Donquixote Doflamingo, Hurt/Comfort, Other Additional Tags To Be Added
!!! SPOILERS !!! This story begins during the 2 year timeskip before the Punk Hazard Arc, and there will also be spoilers for the Dressrosa Arc for backstory lore
| masterlist | about me | rules | ao3 |
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~🦩🦩🦩~
“Another simple mission too much for you, Y/N?”
Doffy ducked a bit as he sauntered into the room, his voice making your enemy freeze with her sea prism stone blade to your throat.
“Young mast–”
Your target smirked at you, pressing the tip of the blade into your flesh, just enough to cut your words. 
“Are you good and scared,” she taunted, ignoring the powerful man at her back.
Is she fucking stupid? She has to know who he is.
Doffy grinned as he moved closer, until you saw yourself reflected in his sunglasses over your enemy’s head. Neither of the menacing figures before you moved or spoke for a moment, leaving your mind in chaos. 
I failed him again. He’s not helping me. Why would he? I’m worthless. 
The woman chuckled, showing no fear as the future king of the pirates towered over her. Until his large hand fisted her hair, lifting her until her toes barely touched the ground. A shocked cry left her lips, her satisfied smirk torn away as she struggled to free herself.
“You really can’t do anything on your own, can you?”
Humiliation poured over you, making you wish that the blade had cut you deeper. The prick of blood on your throat wasn’t nearly enough to drown your shame. 
The woman laughed, even as she struggled in Doffy’s grasp. She choked on that laughter as the blade in her hand flew toward her own neck, tugged by invisible strings. 
“Wait, you said–”
Those frantic eyes had tried to look toward the young master, but her words ended as a flood of red left her throat. Doffy laughed, watching your wide eyes while the woman thrashed. The blade clattered to the floor as a rain of bright, hot blood fell upon it. He took a step toward you, letting all that cherry red cascade down your chest as you stared into the woman’s dying eyes.
She reached for you, dragging her nails across your throat.
“You’re really gonna let this trash disrespect our family? Disrespect me,” Doffy questioned, as bile rose in your throat.
“N-No, I’m sorry young–”
“Finish it. Pick up the knife, and gut her.”
The woman was still struggling, still fighting, but you knew it wouldn’t be long. 
I have to prove myself. 
You couldn’t move. 
“Do it, Y/N,” Doffy threatened, his voice low as he shoved her closer. That hot blood poured over your face as he lifted her higher. 
You fell to your knees, somehow finding the blade through the red that had covered your eyes, spitting it out of your mouth as you used the wall to stand back up. 
“There you go. Prove you can do something right, Y/N.”
Blinking through the blood, you held the blade to the woman’s stomach, throwing up before you could pierce her flesh. 
Doffy dropped that lightly twitching body as you started to retch, stepping back to watch you cover your enemy in your own pathetic disgrace. 
Choking on sobs as your stomach emptied over the nearly dead form, you tried to wipe and hide your face. There was no way to hide from Doffy, his manic grin looming near as he crouched beside you. 
“Such a pathetic sight. To think that a member of my family could fail me like this,” he tutted, ripping your heart to shreds. 
“I’m so sorry, young master, I–”
Your fingers slipped in the blood and sick on the floor as you tried to push yourself up, until your body moved on its own. 
No. Not on its own. 
Doffy moved it, his fingers extending as he controlled you. A disgusting marionette, dripping with the evidence of shame. 
“So disappointing.”
The young master’s voice weighed you down, even as he held your body up. He directed your movements, forcing you to walk as though you were proud of the sticky failure on your skin. 
I’m nothing. I don’t deserve to live. I don’t deserve his love. 
~🦩🦩🦩~
“Y/N, hey, you’re okay–” 
“I couldn’t do it, I’m too weak. I’m so sorry, young–”
Nausea tore through you, the fight to keep from being sick bringing you into the present. Into the mist. Law’s soothing voice was too full of concern, and you hated taking down your camouflage. Hated letting him see how weak you were. 
“Y/N, can I check your–”
Law’s fingers were on you as soon as you nodded, slipping along the cold sweat that coated your skin as he checked your temperature and pulse. 
“I’m fine,” you lied, your voice hoarse as if you had been sick. 
His hands guided your trembling body as you sat up, your eyes caught on your own misty fingers. 
Pathetic. 
“Do you… wanna talk about it?”
A sharp laugh escaped you, flooding you with guilt. An apology died in your throat as you rubbed your hands over your arms, sliding through that layer of sweat. 
“Can I take a shower?”
~
The “Surgeon of Death” waited outside the bathroom for you. You thought he was trying to help you feel safe by not letting anyone else in, until you remembered the concern, the pity on his face. 
He’s making sure I don’t hurt myself. 
You couldn’t meet his eyes as he tried to speak to you on the way to the galley, but a tiny smile broke through your heavy shame from Law’s poor attempt at small talk. 
“Good morning, Y/N!” Penguin’s voice was too loud as he leaned close to grab breakfast at the counter. The stuffed penguin on his hat bobbed toward you while he spoke.
“Morning,” you greeted, with far less enthusiasm, only to be met with a small orchestra of cheerful voices calling to you, and their captain. 
“Hope you didn’t mind the captain on your floor last night. He used to snore like a–”
“Penguin,” Law commanded, voice low as he gripped his crew mate’s wrist. 
The man's friendly clap on your back had made your shoulders tense up, your jaw clenching as Doffy’s voice boomed through your mind. 
‘Only I’m allowed to touch my little doll,’ Doffy rasped, pinching your thighs almost too hard as you sat in his lap. You tried not to stare at the blood spreading across the marble floor. ‘I don’t like to share.’
“Sure, sorry captain, sorry Y/N…” Penguin took a step back, dipping his head at Law’s frown.
“It’s okay,” you breathed, your lying smile forming so easily on your face before he led you to a table in the corner, away from his happy crew.
I’m like mist, sucking the joy and beauty out of a sunny place.
“Why don’t we skip the interview today,” Law suggested, tapping his pretty fingers on the table.
“But, don’t you nee–”
“I need you to be okay,” he interrupted, reaching those fingers to touch your wrist gently, barely, before pulling away. “Besides, I have something else in mind.”
Moving through the metal halls felt like a dream, like you’d get lost, and keep walking for years before you woke up. Until he spun the wheel to open a heavy door, leading you into the largest room you’d seen on this underwater ship.
“How nostalgic,” you teased, nodding your head toward the wall of weapons in what was clearly a training room. 
“It’s been a while since you kicked my ass,” he said with a laugh, and you chewed your lip to fight your cheesy smile. He moved down the wall, pulling two daggers free before facing you. “Catch.”
“Wait,” you cried out, ready to move or mist away, but your body acted on its own. You caught the blade he’d thrown your way, gripping it as you smiled to yourself.
“I see you haven’t lost your reflexes,” he hummed, facing off with you.
“What if I had,” you scolded, your free hand on your hip. 
“I knew it couldn’t hurt you. But your enemies might not,” he mused. “Why didn’t you strike? I gave you an opening.”
“What are you–” you laughed, shaking your head at him. “I’m not a fighter anymore. Besides, I don’t want to be mauled by a bear when your crew finds out I tried to attack you.”
His scowl was so sharp, you almost missed his movement. The second blade flew toward you, spinning clear with the ringing of metal as you blocked it with the first dagger.
“What the fuck, Law?”
He ignored you as he pulled a sword from the wall, striding your way with death in his eyes. Your body slid into a stance it hadn’t felt in years, and you gritted your teeth. Barely escaping Law’s attack, you used the dagger to deflect his blade as you rolled away.
“Why are–”
His sword came down over your head, and you misted out of reach, your breath heavy as anger and fear started to build. 
“Law! Why–”
“Why do you keep saying you’re weak?”
You froze, unable to move as he plunged his sword through your chest, meeting nothing but mist.
“What happened to the girl that could kick my ass? Until I’d get her back, of course,” he grinned, offering his hand to help you up. Still frozen, you watched him sigh, dropping the sword as he sat down beside you. 
“Why do you keep saying that you’re weak,” he repeated softly, his gaze stripping you to the bone.
“Because I am weak.”
The words held nothing but truth, a truth you’d long since accepted. 
“Don’t be stupid,” he reprimanded, the insult bringing your eyes to his with a bit of shock and annoyance.
“Is that my doctor’s orders,” you growled, anger showing through your mask for the first time in ages. Pulling your knees up to your chest, you dug your nails into your shins, the comfort of the mild pain helping you stay grounded.  
“Yes,” he deadpanned, your lips parting as you glared. He didn’t drop that judgemental look on his face, and it was too fucking much.
You hid the need to squirm by standing, picking up the weapons to hang back on the wall. The weight of a useless life pushed your shoulders down, until a tattooed hand touched yours, taking one of the daggers from you while you stared at the floor. 
“When we were kids, you were just as strong of a fighter as I was. I don’t understand how that could change, Y/N,” he recalled, voice soft as he touched your chin. His eyes searched yours, as if you were a puzzle he couldn’t solve. 
“I know you’re fierce. Pretty sure I’ve still got a few scars from you,” he laughed, that gentle sound making your eyes drift closed, a bittersweet smile on your lips. 
“I’m not fierce,” you confessed, shivering as your skin burned where his fingers still held your chin. “I couldn’t keep up. My powers are so... I kept failing, just like they said I would.”
“Don’t be an idiot.”
You almost gaped at him again, but his hand on your chin kept your jaw from dropping. Pulling away, you crossed your arms, that irritation growing. 
“Your bedside manner is shit, you know that?”
“We’re not in bed right now,” he countered, his confident voice cut short by his own awkward cough as he continued. “You know what I mean.”
“No, I don’t. I’m not a fighter anymore, Law. I can help you with my memories, you don’t need to do all of this.” He ignored your movements as you gestured to the wall of weapons, falling back into that frown he’s so good at. 
“Get over it.”
“Excuse me?”
He thrust the handle of the dagger into your palm, leaning close. 
“Everyone has to pull their weight on this ship. You’re gonna shadow the crew until we find a job that suits you. You’re gonna sit with me for interviews. And you’re gonna train, just like everyone else,” he commanded, your breath catching as you felt the authority pouring off of him. His fingers were still wrapped around yours, pressing the handle of the blade into your skin.
“Do you under–”
Law grunted with more surprise than pain as your other fist connected with his face. He took a step back, scalding eyes raking over you while he rubbed his jaw, but you cut him off before he could speak. 
“Gotcha, with a capital ‘G,” you declared, moving your arms with the dagger to create a poor image of the letter ‘G.’
Everything else faded from your mind as Law started to laugh, holding himself up with his hands on his knees. You couldn’t help but join him, some good childhood memories finally filling the air between you. 
“Does he still do that,” he asked, still breathless as he fought the laughter.
“Lau G won’t stop doing that until he’s dead and gone.”
He leaned against the wall of weapons, shaking his head as he pulled up ancient memories.
“That old man trained both of us, Y/N. You were neck and neck with me, even though I’d never admit it back then.”
Your face grew hot, hopefully masked by the wheezing laughter you were still recovering from. But shame quickly followed the pride from his praise, so you turned away to stretch, avoiding his discerning eyes.
“Let’s start with hand to hand,” he ordered softly. You let him take the blade from you, meeting him on the mats in the center of the large, echoey room. Bouncing on your heels, you fought to keep yourself in the present. 
‘Can’t take care of a single mission. I’ve never had such a failure in my family before. What should I do with you?’
‘So misty, so flimsy! You’ll never be as strong as us. I bet the young master will throw you out soon.’
‘Why don’t you just focus on being pretty, dear. I heard the young master say that’s all you’re good for.’
“I won’t go easy on you," Law's threat broke through your foggy mind. He smirked, taunting you with a tilt to his head. “Kick my ass.”
Falling into a stance without a thought, you tried to be here, to be nothing but this. You couldn’t make the first move, getting annoyed as Law feinted, tapping you here or there until you finally fought back. 
There he was. That silly, angry boy with that wicked smirk. The smirk that you needed to kick off that pretty face. Two years of rivalry, two years of tiny, vicious preteens sparring daily, came flooding back as the sounds filled the training room. The sounds of fists and shins connecting with bodies, breaths and grunts, snarky remarks and laughter. 
It felt like no time had passed. 
Until you noticed that thought, and shame hit you just before Law tackled you, taking your breath as he rode your body to the ground. 
Coming back to yourself too late, he had you pinned, unable to work your arms or legs to get out of his grasp. 
“I know you can do better than that,” he teased, his black hair caught in the sweat on his forehead as he stared down at you. 
“Go fuck yourself,” you breathed, still winded with his weight on your body.
“With a capital ‘G,” he smirked, too much satisfaction on his face. He laughed as you squirmed harder, trying to free a hand to punch him with. 
Now you were satisfied, hearing him grunt as he struggled to keep you in place. You freed one arm, but before you could make contact, Law changed position. He caught your wrist, his breathing ragged as his face hovered even closer to yours. 
The air was different, shivers running through you as your bodies relaxed into each other. The struggle halted as you felt his breath on your lips. 
His eyes were wide as he took you in, his brows creasing just a bit. Your chest warmed at the memory of a childhood crush, and a quick peck of a kiss before he disappeared. That sweet memory fell apart when he pulled himself off of you, a slight frown on his lips before he turned away. 
Oh. 
“That’s, uh,” he started, walking away as he avoided your gaze, “that’s enough for today. Let’s get cleaned up, and I’ll get your schedule for tomorrow. Good work, today.”
You held up a polite smile as sharp blades of ice seemed to carve into your empty chest. Wanting Law to kiss you seemed ridiculous. Selfish. You hadn’t realized that your stupid, absent heart was so delusional. And now you knew exactly why you shouldn’t think about him that way. 
He’s disgusted by me. I’ll always be tainted. Ruined. I’m lucky he hasn’t put me out of my misery yet. Why would Law want to touch trash like me?
The thoughts crashed into you, and the moment wouldn’t stop replaying. The press of him, his amber eyes, the sweat and breath mixing between you. 
And that frown as he pulled away. 
It played on a loop as you walked through the submarine, repeating through another shower, a nearly silent lunch in the galley, and the tour. Law guided you with a hand drawn map, labeled with the various stations, and the crew members you’d be shadowing. A detailed weekly schedule filled the back of the paper, and you let out a quiet laugh at his attention to detail.
“Do you have any questions?”
“No, teacher,” you teased, breathing deep when he finally looked at you again. 
“It’s captain,” he corrected as he pointed to the schedule. “You’ll be with Ikkaku tomorrow morning, then if you’re up for it, I'd like to do another interview.”
“Aye aye, captain.”
Just a twitch of his lips this time, but it was a relief. Until he left you in the galley with the crew, excusing himself to complete some “captain’s duties.”
He doesn’t even want to eat with me now. I probably make him sick.
“Hi, Y/N, you can sit with me! You know, if you want to…” Bepo trailed off, flipping from excited to glum in seconds. 
“Thank you, Bepo,” you agreed, donning your cheerful voice as you sat across from him. 
“Hey, I’m sorry about earlier,” Penguin said as he sat beside you, still too close for comfort after years of Doffy’s rules. “The captain’s the only one that taught us any manners, but I guess I still need some practice.”
“It’s al–”
“Give her some space, you’re being a creep,” Shachi cut in, sitting across from Penguin as he pointed a fork his way. 
“I’m not a creep, you jerk–”
“The captain said to behave ourselves,” Bepo scolded, and you found a real smile on your lips as you saw the concern on his cute, furry face.
“Hey, you’re with me tomorrow, right?”
Ikkaku waved over the bear's shoulder, her dark brown curls making her instantly recognizable. You confirmed with a nod while the three boys at the table kept bickering. 
“Let’s go talk about it.”
Arguments and insults floated through the air, and you were grateful for the rescue as you joined the only other non-man on the ship. She smirked as she nodded her head toward her crew mates.
“Don’t mind the dumbasses, they’re harmless.”
“Thanks,” you laughed, your appetite returning as you watched Ikkaku take a large bite, rolling her eyes at Bepo’s table. 
Comfortable quiet sat with you, and you finally felt a moment of ease in your new world. Even with Law, you felt this energy of holding yourself up, of presenting yourself how you wanted him to see you. But this relaxed woman seemed friendly as she dug into her meal, without the pressure of a smile. She didn’t watch you, or force you into small talk, even when you followed her out of the galley to point out where you’d be working in the morning. 
“I’m ‘Weps,’ so I’ll be showing you how to spot and kill enemies. Hopefully we’ll always be bored,” she huffed, pointing vaguely toward her station before guiding you back to the barracks. 
“That’s you, right,” she asked, tapping on your door. “I’ll yell when it’s time to go.”
“Thank you,” you squeaked, staring for a moment as she turned away. 
That small metal room seemed to amplify your worst thoughts, your loneliness echoing through the air like some torturous bell. You wished you had some sort of drug to knock yourself out. Instead, you curled on your side, trying not to think about how Law had cared enough to sleep on your floor last night, but could barely look at you after your near touch earlier. 
~🦩🦩🦩~
“Don’t get all misty-eyed. That man should have known better than to touch my pretty doll,” Doffy declared, crouching down to press his palm into the sticky red puddle.
The blood of an unlucky man. A friendly man that tried to help you stay balanced while you walked down a flight of stairs in too-high heels. 
“No one else will ever touch you,” Doffy breathed, pressing his bloody palm to your chest. He licked his lips as he dragged his fingers higher, painting your skin. 
Doffy loves me. He’ll be King. Kings have to do this. They have to enforce their–
Your deep breaths and calming thoughts halted as his sticky hand gripped your face, digging into your cheeks to tilt your face up to his.
No more misty eyes.
You felt pride for your lack of tears, and for the smile he gave before he smoothed the hair from your face.
“You’re so pretty when you listen to me,” he praised, his grin deepening when he heard your pleased hum. “You know I’ll have to kill you too, right? You're my doll now. Letting someone touch you with their grubby fingers, and defile my toy sounds like another failure, huh, misty eyes?”
A soft noise escaped your lips as you struggled to be strong for him. 
“Well,” he seethed, the veins in his forehead bulging as he shook your face in his bloody grip, “does my pretty doll have anything to say?”
“I-I’m yours, Doffy,” you promised, keeping your eyes dry as your body went loose, leaning into his hold. 
“My body belongs to you, young mast– Doffy. I’d rather die than let someone defile your property.”
A bruising kiss took your breath, and you whined for him as he laid you on the marble floor. That spill of red beside you had finally stopped flowing. 
“Don’t forget that, Y/N. I’m the only one that gets to defile my pretty doll. My disgusting, little toy. No one would want to touch you anyway. Not if they knew what you let me do to you.”
Doffy laughed as he proved it to you.
And you kept your eyes dry.
~🦩🦩🦩~
Last night, your mind had chosen memories over dreams. The lights and sounds of the sonar were lovely, yet too soothing, and Ikkaku caught you shaking yourself as you held in a yawn. 
“Come on,” she ordered as she pushed you out of the weapons room, leading you through the halls. You pressed your fingers into your brow, trying to alleviate some of the pressure, not realizing where she was taking you until she called through a familiar door.
“Captain, I need to report a crew member who’s unfit for duty.”
“Wait, what,” you cried out, cutting off your own yawn as she rolled her eyes at you. 
Law opened the door, his eyes narrowing on you before he looked at her.
“What’s your report?”
“Y/N was doing well with sonar, but she's clearly sleep deprived. There's no yawning at my weapons station, Captain.”
Ikkaku softened her report by flashing you a tiny smile, but your shoulders slumped in embarrassment. 
“Thank you for the report,” Law cleared his throat, avoiding your eyes as he focused on her. “We’ll try again tomorrow. You’re dismissed, Ikkaku.”
She patted your back as she passed, her gesture of comfort lost as your body tensed at the touch. 
With a shaky breath, you turned to him, staring at his tattooed arms that flexed as they crossed below his chest. 
I didn’t mind when he touched me.
That thought was bittersweet, the bitter turning to bile when you remembered him pulling away. 
“Come in,” he gestured into the office, and you stepped back into your memories. A shrine to Doffy, even if it was built of hate. 
“How much sleep did you get last night,” he spoke like a doctor, scrutinizing every movement as you sat down across his desk. 
“How would I know? There’s no clock in there.”
Somehow, his frown deepened, and you let out a heavy sigh. 
“Did you sleep at all?”
The touch of warmth in his voice filled the cold room, but you didn’t want it. You couldn’t truly have it. So you let the truth ring through your mind as you lied again.
All I am is the broken toy of the man he despises. 
“I’m sorry. I’ll be okay.”
Your eyes slid away, seeing nothing as you pretended to be fine. Yet, you blinked slowly when he stood, his chair scraping along the floor before he came to kneel beside you.
Time seemed fuzzy, but after a while you heard his voice, low and steady. 
“I’m sorry, Y/N. I shouldn’t have left you alone.”
Too tired and stuck for anything except for the faint quivering of your bottom lip, you stayed silent. 
“Is it…” he cleared his throat, flexing his hands before he went on. “Is it alright if I hug you?”
“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” he tried to cover his worry in a soothing tone as tears and small choked sounds left your throat. “We don’t need to–”
“Please.”
That tiny, pathetic word left your lips, and you felt sick for asking for anything. Sick for forcing him to take care of you. 
But you didn’t fight as he pulled the chair out, as he knelt to the side of your knees, as he touched long fingers to your cheek. 
“Is it alright if I hug you,” he asked again in a whisper. You were too weak to protect him from you, nodding slowly until you felt more of his touch. 
He pulled you gently forward, your arms limp as he wrapped his around your waist, letting your head rest on his shoulder. 
“You’re okay,” he soothed, sliding a palm between your shoulder blades. “You’re gonna be okay.”
Denials and arguments struggled to leave your lips, anger and fear fighting for control. 
But you were so tired. 
And Law felt so warm, so solid, his smell familiar, yet new. He squeezed you tighter as your breath sped up, holding you still, until you held him too.
He didn’t let go as you dripped hot tears onto his neck. He didn’t let go when you clung to him, digging your fingers into his arms and shoulders. He didn’t let go as your cries flipped from silent to pleading, as you begged for his forgiveness, or choked over the fears and shame you carried. 
Through every round of emotions, you would return to guilt and disgust.
“I’m sorry, Law, I’m sick. You shouldn't be... I’m sorry you have to touch me.”
“Why are you saying that,” he nearly growled, holding your head against him to keep you from leaving his grasp. 
You had no idea how long you’d made him care for you, how many tears you’d let stain his shirt. But however long it had been, you were finally able to speak some of it clearly. 
“You hate him,” you said, your feeble voice breaking between your haggard breaths, “and I’m his… I’m broken. I’m disgust–”
“Shut up.”
A surprised yelp stopped your words, the force of his grip catching your breath. 
Law’s fingers dug into your skin as he pressed you against him, almost to the point of pain, and your mind froze as you waited for him. 
“There’s nothing wrong with you,” he declared, forcing the words through his teeth. “I don’t give a shit about what he did to you. I don’t care what he made you do. It wasn’t your fault, you hear me?”
There was anger in his words, but you knew it wasn’t for you. Still, you were stunned, feeling his heavy breaths beating against your chest. 
“I’m sorry, Y/N,” he breathed, his voice cracking as he buried his face into your neck before pulling away. It was almost painful losing his warmth against you, but he took your hands in his. He seemed to be having more trouble meeting eyes than you were, and you started sinking into the chair while he cleared his throat a few times. 
“When I found out that you’d… That he’d… I should have saved you, Y/N. But I decided not to care about you so I could focus on my mission. I let him–”
“Stop,” you cried out, shaking your head against the guilt in his voice. “I wouldn’t have come with you before. I don’t even know when things started to change. But I would have betrayed you. I wanted to be… I’m glad you didn’t find me sooner, Law. I just wish–”
You cut yourself off, melting into his golden eyes. A stolen moment of peace amidst the guilt and pain. 
“What do you wish,” he asked, rubbing his thumbs over the back of your hands.
“... I don't think broken people get wishes.”
He gave a jaded laugh before standing, leaning against the desk while he rubbed his knees. 
“Will it help you sleep if I stay on your floor tonight?”
You smirked at his soft words, looking from his knees up to his face before responding. 
“I don’t know, old man. I don’t think it’ll be good for your joints.” The look on his face was perfect, and a real laugh left your raw throat, shaking your tired body. 
“We’re the same age,” he countered, eyes wide with that manic grin, “and disrespecting your captain is a punishable offense.”
“I see how it is,” you teased, lightly poking his side. “Still can’t come up with a good comeback, so you threaten me with violence? Looks like you haven’t changed a bit, you– Law!”
He’d grabbed your wrist before going to his knees again, those pretty fingers searching your ribs for the perfect spot. You writhed and laughed, and failed to fight him off as he tickled you, the way he used to when he couldn’t outsmart you. 
“Law, you–”
“Fuck, sorry. I shouldn’t have…”
Law pressed himself against the desk, still on his knees with his hands held up, his eyes wide and worried as he looked at you. 
You cracked up, true, heavy laughter, until his lips curled into that evil little smirk. But you beat him to it, sliding to the ground to get him back, tickling and getting a good squirm out of him before you both attacked. 
He growled as he laughed, grappling you to the side of the chair until he had you pinned to the ground again. Neither of you could tickle the other as you fought for control or freedom. His cheeks were flushed as he laughed in your face, giving you a snarky, “nuh uh,” when you failed to break loose. 
His tongue pressed between his teeth as he gloated, that cocky grin fading as you melted into each other again. 
“I–I’m sorry,” he sighed, shifting his weight to leave. 
“Don’t be sorry,” you demanded, breathless, and aching for him to stay. “I want…”
You closed your eyes, guilt and shame sliding into your lungs again. 
His weight shifted, settling back where he was before. You bit your lip when you saw him staring at your mouth, and heat filled your body as you became hyper aware of every detail of his gorgeous face. 
“You want,” he rasped as he met your eyes, concern still pouring from his own.
Your words were choked by all those shitty feelings and doubts. 
“It’s okay, Y/N.”
His gentle voice eased the tension in your body, and you were grateful that he hadn’t moved. That he still touched you. 
He was still touching you even though you were broken.  
“I want you to kiss me.” 
~🖤🖤🖤~
You’d ordered the stupid boy to kiss you, your arms crossed as you tried to act like you didn’t care. He’d lost the bet, and had to do whatever you asked. 
“Ew, gross! I’m not doing that.”
Law stuck his tongue out, pretending to be sick.
“You lost the bet,” you scolded, punching his shoulder. “Want me to tell everyone you’re an oathbreaker?”
“Why do you wanna kiss me anyway? I’m sick,” he questioned, a hint of hurt in his voice as he gestured to the pale spots on his face. 
“I don’t care if you’re sick. I like you how you are.” The confession slipped out, and heat rushed to your face as you clamped your hands over your mouth.
“You like me,” he taunted, smirking as he poked your burning cheek. “Ha, you’re such a girl.”
“Am not,” you yelled, your hands going misty with embarrassment. 
“So, all I gotta do is kiss you, and we’ll be square?”
You nodded quickly, not sure if you should trust him. 
“Fine,” he complained, leaning in. 
You didn’t know what the big deal was about kissing. His lips were cold and scratchy when he pressed them against yours for a few seconds, then he scowled at you as he pulled away. 
“That was dumb,” he deadpanned, poking your side. 
“You’re dumb!”
He stuck his tongue out at you, and you chased Law down until he swore to never tell a soul. 
~🖤🖤🖤~
“Ew, gross,” Law grinned, your mouth falling open in shock. 
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me,” he teased, moving his smug face closer to yours. “Kissing you sounds gross.”
“You fucking ass,” you seethed, struggling to get out of his grapple so you could punch him. “I can’t believe–”
He let out a needy sound as he crashed his lips onto yours, and you moaned against him. Your back arched when he released his hold on your arms to cradle your face. 
A sob of relief escaped you, and you felt like you’d lost your mind, your hands clawing at his back to pull him closer. 
“I’m sorry, Y/N,” he breathed, pressing his forehead against yours. “I should–”
“No more ‘sorry's,” you ordered, “I just want you to kiss me.”
Law chuckled, his voice coming back in a wicked rasp. 
“Ew, gross.”
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Likes, comments, and reblogs bring me much ✨dopamine✨ thank you so much!
a/n: Sorry about the gruesome, but I hope you enjoyed the wholesome Law with his childhood sweetheart. I adore this man 🥰
Note for the timeline: The childhood flashback occurred shortly before Cora took Law away, so both the reader and Law had known each other over 2 years, and were both between 12-13 yrs old. At the present time in the story, both the reader and Law are around 25 years old.
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Tag List: @shewrites02 | @jadeddangel | @nothing-but-brass
Part 4
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Operation Olive Branch has compiled a working spreadsheet of ways to help families fleeing from the genocide in Palestine. If you enjoyed this fic, and are able, please click the link to find a list of GoFundMe's, as well as other ways to help.
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| masterlist | about me | rules | ao3 |
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damiel-of-real · 2 days
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fanart of the guy i met in lethal company last night who exclusively communicated with a hl1 scientist soundboard
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mu-na · 2 days
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DO IT
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solargeist · 2 days
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i should've been a better son
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