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sleepykittycx · 1 month ago

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Aaaaaah this my be fav fic of law so far 😭😍🫠🙂‍↕️🥹

The Promise

MONSTER FUCKTOBER October 17th

Fossegrim Law x F!Reader

• N.SFW • 16.8K Words • • Monster Boyfriend AU • MONSTER FUCKTOBER Masterlist

• Author's Notes: I'm really glad I still had all of these drafted and ready to go with the OG tumblr yellow before they deleted it.

But also, yay NEW MONSTER FUCKTOBER CONTENT!

You guys wanna know why I've been so behind on writing? Look at that word count. Look at it. Really look at it.

I got no other MONSTER FUCKTOBERS done because of this one. So yeah. They'll come out when they're done.

I had three separate drafts of this story. THREE. Hated all of them, so I took the parts I liked and put them together.

You're welcome.

I have no chill, and this one is so lore heavy that I really hope y'all get as lost in it as Zoro would walking from one end of the yard to the other. If I don't get any others done on time, you know to blame this story.

Also, the mentions in here of Rosi being a vampire with a girlfriend is because he's the same Rosi for "Gimme More" for the 21st.

PLEASE READ THE CONTENT WARNINGS BEFORE PROCEEDING

• After a long legal battle with your brother over your grandfather's farm, you finally start to settle in. Little did you know that you weren't alone when you threw open the barn doors, and how it would change your life forever.

• CW: Long Fic, oral (female receiving), vaginal sex, honestly for the length of all of this the sex is pretty short, angst, use of a gun, implied Doffy-cide.

• Listen to the Playlist: • Spotify • YouTube •

Your eyes blinked at the people in front of you as you opened the doors to the old barn at the edge of the property. Growing up, your Grandfather—Lao G, whom you called G-pa affectionately—had always told you to stay away from that barn. There was a chain with a lock on it for as long as you could remember. Now that it had been a few decades, it was overgrown and nearly falling apart. Since you were the now legal farm owner, you wouldn’t let his warnings stop you. Besides, you needed to inspect it to see if it was worth fixing or just let it continue to fall apart.

“I’m sorry, these are closed sessions,” a man on stage stated plainly, “Band members, organizers, and Mr. G only.”

You just stared. The man at the mic had a guitar in his hands, wearing long, old-school trap pants covering his legs to the floor to the point you couldn’t even see his shoes. There were three other men on stage with him. One with a floppy hat that looked like a penguin (and even had the word printed across it) at the keyboard, and another man with a hat that looked like a black mushroom with two white spots with another guitar. His hat also sported what looked like a fin, so it could have been a killer whale, but it was still hard to tell at this distance. However, the last of the group at the drums was the most shocking.

“Is… is that a Polar Bear?” Your eyes were wide in disbelief.

The bear gave you a broad smile and waved, “Yes, I am! Hello!”

“Bepo!” the man at the mic turned and scolded him, causing the bear to drop his head and apologize with a quiet and simple “sorry” as the other continued, “Someone get her out of here! Contact Mr. G. Ask him what’s going on!”

A ridiculously large man with tattoos on his face, and a woman with curly hair and a yellow beanie descended on you out of nowhere. But you were far too fixated on why this man kept mentioning your grandfather. “Hey, how did you know my G-pa? I didn’t see you at the funeral.”

Everyone in the room got quiet, looking at each other in disbelief. The man at the mic stepped back and away to speak with the other guitarist before he leaned back into it and the slight feedback hurt your ears, “Uh, repeat that please?”

You winced at the noise, the other two now holding you back doing the same, “My grandpa, the Mr. G you keep speaking of? He died. Left me his farm. Now why are you here? And what the heck is going on with—” you gestured about wildly to signify the general interior, “—this?”

A few more people came out of the shadows, everyone removing their hats as they whispered your words to one another. The man at the center of it all continued to stare blankly at you with his golden eyes that reflected the stage lights looked more shocked than anyone. He spoke into the mic again, “He’s dead?”

Throwing your arms up now that the other two had released you, you let out a groan, “Yes, that is what I’ve said. I’m sorry to bring the shock on you guys, but you have to understand my own in seeing an entire concert hall inside a dilapidated barn!”

Shaking out his head, the man quickly removed his guitar, handing it off to one of the others as he hopped off the stage. Approaching you quickly, you noticed his footsteps sounded like hooves. He had two large and curled ram horns sticking out from his thick and fluffy black hair and his ears were shaped like that of a goat. Placing a hand over his heart, he bowed his head quickly, “I’m sorry for your loss, but we need to talk immediately.”

For a brief moment, you were taken aback by how handsome he was up close, his intense features softened now that he was out of the harsh lights of the stage. But when he grabbed your arm and ushered you in a rush toward a back room, your awe returned to rage as you struggled against him, “Hey! What the fuck?! Let me go, asshole!”

Your protests fell on deaf ears as you were dragged through a swinging door that read “PRIVATE: STAFF ONLY” into a bright hallway, then into an office that was dimly lit compared to the hall. He sat you down rather abruptly into one of the chairs in front of the desk. Quickly, he moved to an office cabinet and started to pull out some papers. Placing a pair of red reading glasses on, he sat in the chair behind the desk, mumbling to himself as he looked over the files. The office was small and a little cramped, with lots of filing cabinets and various instruments from around the world on the walls. Finally, he pulled out a document and slid it in front of you.

“Basic NDA form. I will not answer any of your questions until you sign unless it pertains to signing this form.” He said.

Leaning back in the chair as if the paper were a rabid creature about to strike, you looked at it strangely. Then to the man in front of you, then back to the paper as you slowly reached forward for it to read it over. Luckily, you worked as a paralegal before inheriting the farm and understood most legal jargon. You gave the paper a good once over, then read through it again—it really was a basic non-disclosure agreement but with a few strange nuisances.

“Okay, who the hell is Trafalgar D. Water Law?” your eyes glanced up from the form to the man in front of you. It listed the name as “Party A” in the form, and while you wanted to assume it was the one in front of you, the day had already taken a turn you couldn’t completely wrap your mind around and wanted to be sure.

He folded his hands in front of him, an unamused expression as he cocked a brow, “Who do you think?”

You rolled your eyes, looking at the papers again, a blank line where it requested the full name of the legal owner of your family’s farm. Something in your gut rang out like a warning. The man had horns and goat ears, there was a talking bear, and the interior of the building did not match the exterior. While you always considered yourself an open-minded and intelligent woman, this was all still hard to believe.

Everything was already exasperating with your legal battle with your estranged brother in buying out his half of the farm with your share of the more than generous inheritance that was left to the two of you. He wanted to sell off the whole thing, but deep down in your heart, you knew you couldn’t allow that to happen. The land had been in your family for generations, and you had the certificates and historical status documents to prove it. You thought you had been done reading legal papers carefully for a long time now that you had finally moved in, but now that you were sitting here with it again, you felt your eyes going cross.

“And this power of name clause? What nonsense is this?” You held out the papers for him to see where your fingers were pointing, “What are you, a fairy?”

“Depends on who you ask. Most prefer the umbrella term of Fae.” The man you now knew was named Trafalgar D. Water Law shrugged his shoulders, “It ensures you that while I will know your full given name, I will never use it against you or utter it to others, and the same requirements apply to you, and your knowledge of my name. Everyone here just calls me Law, or some Trafalgar, both of those are acceptable. We will know each other’s full names, but neither of us owns them from the other.”

Blinking once, then twice, you leaned back in the chair again, “You have got to be kidding me. And I thought you wouldn’t answer my questions.”

“Unless they pertain to what’s in the NDA.” His long fingers tapped rather forcibly on the dotted lines of the paper, “If you don’t sign, I can still have someone erase your memory, and we’ll clear out the barn. Simple as that.”

“That’s shady as hell…”

“You want answers or not?”

Your jaw set harshly, feeling as if your teeth would become dust with how hard you ground them together. Taking another moment to read over everything a second, your heart pounded in your skull as it felt like your hand was not part of your body, printing your full name on the above line, and then signing and dating where it was indicated you should. In your haste, you practically threw the paper back at him with the pen as he read it over.

“Y/N M/N L/N?” He asked, looking at you with scrutiny in his gaze, “Huh.”

“It’s not Trafalgar D. Water Law at least.” There was a bite to your voice, folding your arms as you leaned back in the chair, crossing your legs, “Just what the heck is going on here?”

His face finally showed a new emotion beyond his blank stare, the slightest smirk pulling at the corner of his lip, “Thank you for your candor, Y/N-ya.” Law got a new file folder out from a place on his desk and placed the document in it before removing his reading glasses and folding his fingers in front of himself. He leaned on his forearms on the desk, “But to answer the questions I know are bouncing around in your head before you ask them: No, I’m not human. Yes, your grandfather knew. Yes, I had the same contract with him, just as my father did before me, and so on. Your family has had a deal with mine for…” scratching his head, he paused, then waved his hand, “for a very, very long time.”

You chewed on the inside of your lip, cocking a brow. Opening your mouth to speak, you took in a sharp breath before Law continued again.

“My family has helped enrich your farmlands and keep them prosperous,” Sure, that was your question, but he could at least have the decency of letting you ask it, “In exchange, we have protections from humans since the lands are private, and we also have use of this barn for gatherings and events where we have been unbothered by mortals. A place my own and our kind can come and let our hair down, not have to worry about getting caught. Places like this are few and far between, and very lucrative.”

Taking in his words, your brow still furrowed, “So, grandpa knew, could never tell any of us, and you guys have concerts in what is now my shitty barn. Did you really have to drag me back here so frantically?”

Law leaned back in his chair, shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly, “Yeah, we have to get the contracts signed. Otherwise, you’d be in danger come nightfall. We have an event, and creatures from across the world are coming. You may now be the legal owner of the land, which holds some protections, but not much these days. It’s not really the medieval times anymore, and frankly, no one respects verbal contracts, despite old magics still holding truer than paper. At least paper is viable both in your courts and ours.”

You felt like your head was filling with his words and draining it right back out your ears at the sheer volume of information, but one part stuck out to you the most, “What do you mean that I’m in danger?”

“You would be,” Law pulled up another one of the folders, gently tossing it in front of you with a thud, “But I have the contract to legally recognize you as our Human Liaison. It would protect you from any of that unknown danger. At least not having your name or soul taken. Just don’t promise anyone your firstborn.”

“I don’t want kids,” you stated plainly.

“Would definitely not stop anyone,” Law answered.

Grimacing, you looked over the secondary set of papers that he had handed you. Basic, like the last one, and to the point. You would be, just as stated, the “Human Liaison” between the facility—it’s your barn, why is it the facility?—and anything with the mortal realm. Luckily, this far onto the farm, it would be rare for someone just to randomly wander to this location and open the front door. There would be protections for you against the fae or others of the unnatural world. At least what you considered unnatural.

As you kept reading, you were waiting for the catch. Most of this had minimal consequences for you, and you even got a stipend. A very generous stipend. The farm had always done well, but you now better understood the hefty inheritance that your grandfather left you and your brother. But since you used all of your money to buy out his half of the farm and then some, you were flat broke. It was rough getting him to sign the paperwork without the money, and now with this news, you really hoped the selfish bastard didn’t come sniffing around.

You started to sign the paperwork, a brow cocked from Law, “What, no more questions?”

“Oh, fuck no. I have so many, but if my safety is at risk, then I need to sign these,” you spoke calmly, calmer than you had been so far during your interactions with him, “You’ve been pretty upfront, at least in a business sense. There seems to not be much downside for me, but nothing is stopping me from coming at you with a shotgun full of iron if I get shafted.”

Law’s lips pursed and his eyes went wide. He looked very concerned with your statement, “Uh, noted… we may have to make some amendments in the near future.” He reached across the desk and retrieved the papers when you were done.

There were copious amounts of legalities to go over and be signed, causing a minor headache to come on. Most were basic papers, Law’s words, but they would allow you to come and go through the facility as you pleased, allow you backstage to the shows, and give you the power to shut down any event you saw fit with proper discussion. Law had total control of the management of the place and would have weekly meetings with you over numbers and schedules. He also had a small list of outside orders you would have to make, which was another task of yours, but all in all the discussions were straightforward and you had no issues with them.

Then, he folded his hands on the desk again, making it more evident of the tattoos over them and “DEATH” written across both knuckles, “So, now that we are truly to the heart of the matter—”

“What the hell are you exactly?”

He let out a heavy sigh, running his hands through his thick black hair before tracing the shape of his horn on that side, a possible nervous habit, “I’m a Fossegrim. And before you ask, the closest thing I can describe myself to you as is like a satyr.”

“But you aren’t a satyr, I’m assuming?” you asked.

“No, that would be like others saying humans and monkeys are similar. Not to call satyrs monkeys, but we are of similar genomes, and there is an evolutionary ancestry line, but we aren’t actually the same species. Our magic is also sound and music-based, and theirs is more of a trickster class.” He spoke very matter of fact, obviously explaining this before, “I have charts and visuals if need be.”

You chewed on the inside of your lip, folding your arms and giving him a look, “Will there be a test on this or something?”

“No.”

“Then I don’t need them.”

Law looked strangely disappointed. However, he shrugged and stood up from his chair, then offered his hand to you, “Well, Y/N-ya, I look forward to our future business endeavors together.” His smile was a little awkward, and you could tell he was forcing one to seem more approachable. It was weird, he had smiled a few times during your discussions, and this one was just not right. You opted to not dwell on it, smiling awkwardly back at him and agreeing.

Leading you back out into the hall, you stopped Law before he opened the door into the main venue space, “Oh yeah, why did all the papers just list the barn as the facility? Do you guys not have a name for it?”

He glanced down at you, as if it were obvious, “Because that is the name of it. Just ‘the facility’—no caps. Before you say that it sounds dumb, I’m the one who picked it. Been trying to rebrand from just being… well, a barn.”

You let out a small snort, and this time he gave you a more genuine soft smile. Opening the door, everyone was waiting and immediately turned around to act as if they were not standing there listening to you and Law. He frowned, his brow returning to its natural state of furrowed. A growl escaped him, waving his arms about as he barked for them all to get back to work.

The only one who did not rush off was the polar bear, remembering Law having called him Bepo. He smiled to you brightly (How? He was a bear?) and waved, “Hi, welcome to the facility. You can call me Bepo.”

Giving him a polite wave back, and then extending your hand to shake, you smiled back, “Nice to meet you, I’m—”

You stopped, looking to Law as he shook his head. Right, names held power. He had already suggested not using your actual name, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t use your first. But in the modern age of social media, they could still find you. Crap, this was hard.

Bepo chuckled, “What if we just called you Mrs. G?”

“Uh, no. I’m not married, nor do I share the same name as my Grandpa.” You said scratching the back of your head, “Let me think…”

The polar bear shrugged, “We could call you Mistress, you are the new owner of the land and all.”

A heat flooded the surface of your skin, both loving and hating the name. It did make you feel powerful, but it also made you feel a little dirty. You fiddled with your hands, stammering on your words when Law put a hand on your shoulder, “Nah, that’s awful. We’ll just go with Liaison until we figure out something.”

You scoffed, “That’s just my title.”

“What do you think a name is?” Law cocked a brow, his golden eyes moving from you to Bepo, “I’m going to show her around. Finish the sound check and then we’ll run through the first half of the set.”

Bepo nodded, and the goat man motioned for you to follow him. His legs were longer than yours—even in the trap pants—and you quickly trotted after him. Law led you toward one of the bars, and you cleared your throat, “Um, so… you guys are playing tonight then?”

“Yeah,” he answered plainly, “And before you ask, no, you can’t shut this one down. We have to discuss it first.”

“Hey, no issues here. Go nuts,” you spoke with your hands as he walked you through more of the main area of the venue, “More curious as to what all will be going on. Is it just a concert? A general club kind of thing?”

Law shrugged, “A little bit of both. Tonight we have a few different bands playing, almost like a variety night. People will come just to vibe and dance, so we won’t put a full chair seating out, but there will be some tables along the sides.” He motioned generally through the space as Bepo began to tap on the drums for the sound test as the large man with the facial tattoos back in a sound booth gave him hand signals while adjusting dials, “Since it’s the weekend, we do have more of a dance club vibe on Saturdays, sometimes Sundays if it’s not falling on a holiday. During the week we have different concerts depending on who’s in the area, or even comedy shows, theater productions, a few children’s choruses. Depends on who books out. Otherwise, it’s just like a pub. People come for dinner, drinks, shitty bar games.”

“Oh,” you blinked a few times, surprised at how busy the place was, “That… is a lot.”

The man watched as you bit your lip, patting you on the shoulder, “The place is enchanted, there aren’t any noise violations to be concerned about.”

“I was a little more worried about kids at a bar…” you gave him a face, looking over at the bar set up as the bartenders were cleaning surfaces and spot-checking cups.

Waving a hand at it, Law shook his head, “We only serve sodas and water at kids’ events. Parents will usually bring cookies and snacks—it’s a pretty legit spread.” Law then paused, looking back down at you again with those golden eyes that reflected the light strangely, reminding you that he was not human, “Only eat the food served here if it has a sign designated for humans…”

“Why?” you snorted, “Because if I eat fae food I’ll never be able to eat human food again or be turned into a fae like those old stories?”

“Well, nothing we serve here will do that,” he guided you toward the bar and grabbed one of the menus, “That’s, like, royal court nonsense, which we only see them here for birthday parties or snooty nonsense. More like you’ll get sick to your stomach because you’re a different species.” Law’s long finger pointed to some of the symbols on the menu key, “Only order things that have this “H” next to them. If you feel adventurous, at least make sure I’m close if you choose not to follow this rule.”

“Duly noted,” your eyes looked over the menu, the items listed for humans were normal enough. Burgers, fries, burritos, nachos, beers on tap, specialty drinks—typical tavern or bar fare. The items not listed for humans, however…

Pointing at the drinks section, you felt you already knew the answer when you asked, “There are two separate Bloody Mary drinks on the menu.”

Law grunted, “One of those isn’t tomato juice.” You cringed at the thought and noticed only one of the drinks had the ‘H’ labeled next to it. It wasn’t like you drank Bloody Marys anyway, and now you didn’t think you ever would.

Putting the menu down, he then introduced you to the bartenders, the wait staff, the cooks, bouncers, and everyone in between. Law showed you the offices, backstage, green rooms, and then the balcony up higher with a great view of the stage. Mentally, it was still a lot to take in, and your brain had checked out a bit ago. You mostly just listened to the gentle tone of his voice, nodding along as you leaned on the balcony and watched his band finish the sound check.

Bepo waved to the two of you up in the balcony, and you waved back with a smile before turning to Law again, “Well, thanks for the tour. I guess I should let you get back to it and all, huh?”

He hummed in response, “Stick around for now. Listen to our practice. I won’t make you come back tonight, but you can if you want. They’ll let you in.”

You shrugged, “Sure, why not? I still have to figure out how the heck I’m even going to do all of this farm stuff alone.”

“Who knows, I’m sure there’s a solution.” Law pushed off the railing he was leaning on, getting ready to head back down below.

Watching him leave, you noticed a little goat-like tail sticking out of the back of his pants. You had to stifle a giggle, but when he turned back to flash you a look, you cleared your throat and asked, “What kind of music do you guys play, by the way?”

“Oh,” Law turned to face you, a playful smirk on his face that made your heart flutter, “New Age Modern Christian Gospel.” When you met him with a wide-eyed expression of surprise, Law laughed, showing sharper canine teeth, despite being a goat man of sorts, “I’m kidding. Just normal rock and roll. You’ll enjoy it.”

You snorted, folding your arms as you cocked your brow at him and spoke with a teasing tone, “That a promise?”

Chuckling, Law shook his head, waving a hand at you, “Sure. I promise you’ll like it.”

He left the balcony, and you turned back to the stage. Law performed a quick sound check for his mic before turning back to his bandmates, discussing something that couldn’t be heard before Bepo started a beat and they all broke out into the song. It was very catchy, a vibe you thought fit them well. More so, Law’s voice was like a siren’s call, drawing you deeper and deeper into the rhythm of it all. Even at the distance you were, the bass was enough to feel as though it changed the pace of your own beating heart.

After their practice, you realized the time and said your goodbyes as you headed back to the modest farmhouse you were still adjusting to being yours. It now felt empty as your ears continued to ring from the practice. You hadn’t brought much from your small apartment before coming here, not that you owned a lot to begin with. Luckily, G-pa still had a lot of furniture. His internet wasn’t the best, and you were struggling with getting a lot of bills switched over to your name. Granted, you had only been there a week now, so things were still just a giant mess.

Planting season was coming along sooner than you realized, and while your grandpa had taught you much, it was becoming more and more apparent to yourself that you had no idea what to do or even where to start. He had farm hands, you remembered seeing them, but you never talked to them, nor did you even know where they went in the off-season. Did he even still have them? You didn’t see them at the funeral.

The funeral.

It had become a common feeling—the grief that still overtook you from time to time. Like now, as you looked at the picture of you and your grandfather he proudly had sitting on the mantle of the old fireplace. You were so small compared to him, drastically different from the last time you saw him in his hospital bed. He looked so small.

Grabbing a pillow from the couch, you realized it still smelled like your grandfather. You hugged it close to your chest, muffling the sounds of your tears. Not that anyone could hear you, which was a strange comfort as you cried yourself to sleep.

There was a loud pounding on your front door, and it jostled you awake from your place on the couch. The murmuring voices caused your heart to pound, a slight fear it was your brother for whatever reason. You stumbled to your feet, head pounding and a glance in the mirror next to the door showed you how puffy your eyes looked. Still, you opened the door, surprised to find Law and some of the others standing there at the threshold. Each of them were wearing coveralls, but it was the aviator sunglasses and obviously fake mustaches that drew your attention, rendering you dumbfounded and speechless with how ridiculous they all looked.

“Whoa,” the man in the penguin hat made a face, “You sure she didn’t come to the show? She looks like she came to the show…”

Law rolled his eyes, removing the aviators, “Hey, Liaison,” he spoke your title almost naturally, as if it were your name, “You good? We could come back after our work.”

Your brows knitted together, your hands attempting to rub the sleep from your eyes, “Work? What work? Is there something at the barn today? And what are you wearing?”

“Facility,” he corrected, his voice flat, before he sighed a bit, “Not the point. We helped your grandpa with the farm, so we’re here to help you, too. It’s in the contracts and all.”

Okay, now you were for sure awake. You blinked at him a few times, giving him a blank stare. Yesterday had become a blur, you could barely remember what contracts said what, “It is?”

Law motioned for the man in the killer whale hat (Law had told you that was what it was during the tour) to come forward and show you some more papers, “Well, it will be when you sign these. Got a little distracted with the sudden news and your safety and all.” This time, you didn’t have the mindset to read through them—that would be something to sort out later—and signed as quickly as you could. The goat man watched you closely, “What? Not going to read ‘em this time?”

“If you’ve tricked me out of a firstborn, then that’s your problem now,” you spoke sarcastically, “But I honestly barely know the basics of farming. Y’all seem to already know what you’re doing, so I’m not going to say no.”

“Fair enough,” Law nodded as you handed the papers back to the other and he waved them off. He motioned toward the inside of the house, “May I come in?”

You nodded for him to follow you in with “Yeah, sure,” then slowly stumbled toward the small kitchen. The only item you had unpacked there was your fancy coffee maker, and felt it was the one thing that actually kept you going most days. “Coffee?” you asked him with a mumble as he sat at the kitchen table.

“Sure,” Law looked around the room, his focus not seeming to be on you, “Just black, please.”

Of course, he was definitely the type to drink coffee black. A small smile graced your lips as you looked back at him as he removed his hat, sunglasses, and fake mustache, “So, uh, what’s with the get-up? Do you want what few neighbors I have to be suspicious of y’all round here, or what? Is you guys being weird why I haven’t seen the farm hands G-pa had around? Scared them all off?”

His golden eyes wrinkled at their corners as he waved a hand at you, “Right, you aren’t aware, no, none of that.” Law stated plainly, “They’re enchanted. None of us are human, so it helps us to go out amongst humans or to be seen and yet not. You are now aware of what we are, so you see through the enchantment.”

“And see the stupid mustaches?” You smirked, looking back to him as he shook his head at you, “So I take it you guys were the farm hands of G-pa’s I suddenly realize I never remembered much?”

“Yep, all part of the enchantment.” Law leaned back in the chair as he watched you switch out the mugs in your fancy little coffee maker, “You would see us, but it would never be remarkable. You would never question why you couldn’t remember us, but you’d be generally aware that Mr. G wasn’t running the farm alone.”

You nodded along, yawning slightly as you began to add the fixings into your mug of coffee you needed to make it perfect for yourself. When Law finished speaking, the two of you fell into a relaxed silence. It was long, but comfortable, like this was a part of your daily routine your whole life. You brought the mugs over to the dining table where he sat waiting, placing an old mug of yours in front of him as you sat across from the man. Law took it, taking a sip as his features softened ever-so-slightly. Holding yours in your hands, you felt the warmth slowly seep through your fingers, into your hands, and through to the rest of your body.

You hadn’t even realized that time had passed until you heard Law addressing you a little louder than someone in the same room usually would. With a few blinks, you looked across the table to him, “Hm? I’m sorry, what?”

His face was plastered with concern, putting his coffee down as he shifted his chair around the small table to you. Law placed his hand on yours to put your drink down, then his golden eyes looked deep into your own. You realized how his pupils were oblong and sideways, reminding you that he wasn’t human, and yet you became lost in them as if his eyes could hold all the answers you had been seeking in life.

“Are you getting enough sleep?” Law’s low grumble of a voice brought your attention back to reality, his one hand checking your pulse on your wrist while the other was checking your temperature on your forehead, “I get you’ve been going through a lot, but are you at least taking care of yourself?”

You felt your cheeks flush with heat, your heart racing in your chest as your voice cracked, “Y-yeah, at least what I can. It’s been rough since G-pa’s death.”

‘Of course he was just checking on our well-being,’ you thought to yourself, ‘Don’t get ahead of ourselves here…’

Law nodded, still looking into your eyes as he was checking a few more of your vitals, “I can understand that. I felt like it took me years to get back on my feet when I lost my family.”

You cast your eyes down and away from him, “Oh. I’m sorry for your loss then.”

He shook his head, putting your hands back on the table, but not before leaving one of his tattooed ones on top of yours as he took in a long breath. Law reached for your coffee to give it back to you before he finally spoke, “Don’t be. It’s been a long time, and I found a new family, but I understand that grief. It comes and goes, just less frequently over time. But that doesn’t mean you should neglect yourself in the process.” Stretching back across the table with his long arms, Law grabbed his coffee, “I know we just met yesterday, but if you need to talk to someone, I have two ears. I’ve been told I listen well.”

His words caused you to choke up, and you did your best to hold back most of your feelings. However, the second his hand touched yours, you lost all resolve. You broke down and cried leaning into Law, which seemed to shock him at first. And yet he still wrapped his arms around you, holding you gently until the storm passed the the skies cleared for you enough that you could speak intelligible sentences again.

You told him about your life growing up on the farm in the summers, visiting your grandfather when you could. It was harder to see him when your father’s work took your family further away, but you called and talked to him every chance you got. Even as an adult when your parents split in a nasty divorce and your brother only cared about his business and the money it put in his pocket, your Grandpa Lao G was the constant of your life. When he passed, you weren’t surprised neither of your parents cared. All your brother wanted was the money left to him, and to sell the farm to get even more. It took many arguments through lawyers and all of your share of the inheritance just to get him to sell you his half of the land. The farm was far too important to you to lose, and while you were happy you had won, your victory still came with doubts.

“Honestly, I’m terrified.” You stared into your empty coffee mug, its surface cold to the touch by now, “I couldn’t afford another lawyer if he decided to come after it all. He plays dirty, and even with the iron-clad contract for the sale of his share, I wouldn’t put it past him to come up with something. The land is still worth something, but he didn’t see that at least. But it’s worth more than money to me, and I wouldn’t give it up for anything.”

Law listened to everything, keeping his chair close to you, “Well, be that as it may, we’ve signed all the contracts for you to be recognized as the owner of these lands by those of us from the other side,” he stood up, taking both of the mugs and walking them over to your sink, “So you don’t have to fight that fight alone if he does try and pull something. Even better if you give me his full name,” the man chuckled playfully, “We could bar him with hospitality.”

When your only response to him was a blank stare, he cleared his throat and continued while washing the mugs out by hand, “Hospitality Law falls under the Major Laws of Magic. That whole “can’t come in a house without being invited in” sort of thing you read about in fairy tales and movies. And before you ask, yes, you did invite me in. I asked if I could enter, you said “Yeah, sure”—” He did a very poor imitation of your voice there, “—and thus I can now come and go from your home as I please. You can also revoke my invitation and I would be forced out through a threshold immediately.”

You took it all in. But it was still a lot. It was also very tempting to test the statement and tell him to get out of your house, but you bit your tongue for now. Instead, you asked, “Is there a test on this?”

“No, but you should actually read the book and see my charts on this one. Those are extremely important things to know, Miss Paralegal.”

Letting out a sigh, you watched him as he placed both of the mugs on the drying rack next to the sink, “You promise there’s no test?”

Shaking his head, he turned around and leaned against the edge of the sink, “I promise.”

“For fucks sake, I thought your contracts were borderline psychotic…”

You couldn’t see his face as you sipped your coffee, still reading over the papers in front of you, but you knew Law was rolling his eyes. He kept banging around in your cabinets, looking for something before he grumbled, “They’re not psychotic, they’re necessary to protect you and me.”

It was your turn to roll your eyes, chewing on the tip of your pen as you looked out the window of the farmhouse to the old dilapidated barn. It had been six months since you had arrived at the farm, and between learning of the real nature of your grandfather’s farm hands along with the actual work, time flew by.

Everything had been a whirlwind—tractor repair, seed planting, new parts for the irrigation systems, you were surprised you still had your head. Penguin and Shachi had both been useful in helping you keep it on and even helped with some of the basic house repairs that needed to be done now, and Bepo had helped you start working on a personal garden in the yard since your grandpa had not been able to tend it for a long while. You and Ikkaku, a narwhal selkie, also had gotten closer, as she helped you relearn the town along with the local gossip. It was nice feeling like you had friends again after uprooting your life so abruptly.

Law was there every morning to wake you (via knocking on your window the first few days), then after you permitted him, by coming in and making coffee. You assured him you had an alarm set, which he acknowledged was fine, but it needed to be earlier for farm work. It was evident he was still being forgiving with you, but you still found it asinine that he was even doing it in the first place. He at least had the decency to get the house set up under the facility’s Wi-Fi, but didn’t realize that meant he would slowly bring over all of his office work over the next few days, and started working in your house.

You became a regular at the facility. Why not? It was literal walking distance from your house. Law’s band was phenomenal, but the name was something else you found strange—The Polar Tangs? Was he just bad at naming things? You always teased him about it during the breaks he would take to sit with you and Ikakku at the booth set aside just for you at the facility. He would usually respond with something snarky, and the two of you would tease one another back and forth. Ikakku picked up on you fawning over Law before you even realized you had deeper feelings for him, but her getting Bepo and the other two stooges (Shachi and Penguin) in on things, made it worse.

Law also became aware that the rest of them were constantly trying to get the two of you alone, but he was always aloof, brushing it off. The two of you were friends, business partners. The words stung, but he was right. It would hinder things to get a relationship all mucked up into it. You deluded yourself for now that it was better to push those feelings down further and further.

Then you were suddenly six months into this rodeo.

The night before, the facility had hosted a party to present you formally to the community as the “Human Liaison” of the farm now that you were the new owner. All of the various Fae Clans that either shared borders or lands or whatnot with your farm came and presented gifts while introducing themselves. You learned from Law that none of these were their true names, but more like nicknames, as all greetings were always followed with “You may call me…” instead of a usual “My name is…” It was just some of the little things you were getting used to.

Many of the gifts were what you had come to expect now that your life had become introduced to magic and the supernatural: various moon waters, a few enchanted items, a golden cow with the softest coat (her name was Sunshine and you would die for her). But there were a few odd ones that you weren’t even sure what to make of. How does one give the gift of discreet flatulence? How are you even supposed to accept such a gift? As you attempted to contemplate this, the whole venue had gone quiet as he approached.

Donquixote Doflamingo, Arch Fae, and King of the general realm your farm fell under the jurisdiction of. It wasn’t his full or true name, but people still did not even speak it for fear he’d show up.

You had met him before, along with his brother, Rosinante—who preferred to be called Corazon in public—a vampire lord. According to Law, Corazon allowed himself to become a vampire just to get away from Doflamingo’s influence. There was an extensive history that Law also made you learn, and you knew that Doflamingo was the one whom your ancestor gained the farmland from, but the books never said how. He was always charming and friendly toward you, but that crooked smile of his and his dark eyes behind his pink mirrored shades always left you unsettled with the heebbiest of jeebies. Doflamingo didn’t hide he was flirting with you, but you couldn’t help the feeling of your skin crawling when he’d lick his lips and smile.

When it was his turn to present to you, he dropped the stack of papers in front of you. His “gift”: another massive contract. It was the terms and conditions for your “Trial”, a tradition of all owners of the farm. You had Law helping you read over it while for whatever reason he was digging through your cabinets.

Rubbing your temples, you let out a sigh, “Do I really have to go through this? Why does shit like this have to be tradition? Can’t we just grow a giant pumpkin and hand it over to him?”

The goat man opened up your pantry, looking over a few things, “That could potentially be what he deems. The contract won’t name his challenge, not until you sign it and hand it back to him. You can always add in your own addendums if you need to, but he is still an Arch Fae, he will try and find ways to make you lose, it’s what he does.”

You let out a large huff, leaning back in your chair as you picked up your coffee mug, mostly to feel some warmth against your hands since it felt like they were going numb, “What is his deal anyway? The man is constantly trying to get into my pants, and now he’s challenging me for the farm back? Our family’s had it for nearly 200 years, what could he possibly need with it this badly?”

“Pride mostly,” Law stated, getting a few ingredients together, and not being quiet about it, “Doff thinks your family cheated him out of whatever the agreement was back in the day into him losing control of the richest soil. It could have also been that he felt kind that day and gifted your ancestors the titles and land and whatnot, but then changed his mind the next and decided he had been wronged. Who really knows? Man’s a kook.”

Rapping your fingers on the surface of your kitchen table, you watched Law closely. You could hear his hooves tapping on the old and discolored linoleum, but you never saw them under the trap pants he always wore. Sometimes you wondered how he walked, but hooves were different than feet, and you also were terrible in your anatomy classes growing up, so what did you know? It also was the study of humans, not whatever goat creature Law was (you could hear him correcting you in your head, bringing a small smirk to your lips as you sipped your coffee and watched his stance change to cock his hip ever so slightly as he looked through your refrigerator.)

“Speaking of kooks, what on earth are you doing?” you raised a brow as you asked, watching him grab a few eggs and the last of your bacon before he gently placed them on the counter then reached in to grab the milk.

“What’s it look like?” Law didn’t even glance your way before he was fiddling around on his phone, “You need eggs.”

“I have eggs. You just put them on the counter.”

“Well, you need more.”

You placed your coffee mug down, folding your arms as you watched the man begin to mix flour and eggs, along with some of the milk. Before long, there was a tap at the kitchen window above the sink. When Law opened it, you only saw a hand giving him a few eggs, most likely from the chickens that morning. The hand waved in your direction, and you heard Penguin warmly greet you for the morning.

Shaking your head, you waved back, even though he couldn’t see you, then looked back to Law, “You better replace anything you’re using.”

He smiled to you over his shoulder, or at least as big of a smile as he ever gave, “I promise.”

There was a shiver through your body, doing your best to not let him notice. Oftentimes in the last few months, there was a pattern that had come up in your banter with one another. You would ask something that would make Law respond with “I promise.” There was just something in the way he said it, something in the way he would smile to you when he did. Every time it made your heart flutter. It was the only way you allowed yourself to indulge in your feelings for him.

You stood to your feet, going to stand closer to him as you started to make yourself some more coffee, “What are you even doing anyway?”

“You’ve already asked that.” He snorted, breaking a few more eggs in after rinsing off the shells properly.

“You didn’t answer me.”

Law leaned toward you, his face closer as his grin became more of a sneer, “Then it means you didn’t ask the correct question.”

Rolling your eyes, you pushed his face away from you, but you couldn’t help your smile in doing so, “Fine, Trafalgar D. Water Law, why are you making breakfast in my house?”

There was a shutter through his body as if someone had dropped an ice cube down his back, “Now you’re being mean. Did you have to use my whole name? Like someone stepped over my grave.” His face contorted in displeasure, tongue sticking out as if there were a bad taste in his mouth, “Bleh, right to the heart of it all…”

“Answer the question, Trafalgar.” You teased, tugging gently on his horn closest to you.

“Now you aren’t playing fair, Y/N M/N L/N—” Since you were mortal, it didn’t have the same effect over you, but you still gave him a playful swat, “—Yes, I’m making breakfast, because normally you’d have done so by now and I’m starving. Figured if you weren’t going to do it, then I will.” You scoffed at his answer before he gave you a nudge with his elbow, “Besides, you’ve been occupied. Doesn’t mean I can’t make breakfast once in a while, yeah?”

Biting your lip, you had to look away from him to hide the heat you felt rushing to your face. You weren’t even sure any man in your life ever made you breakfast, besides your G-pa when you were little. It was a strange feeling, one that brought the butterflies you continued to deny back to life deep within.

He nudged you again, bringing you back to reality, “Go finish reading through the damn thing so we know what we have to deal with. Just point me to the pots and pans and I’ll have food in front of you before you know it.”

You pointed to a lower cabinet as you went back to the table, sitting down and just flipping through the book of a contract that made War and Peace look like a dime store paperback leaflet. Then you froze, gawking at one of the last pages. The general statement for if you lose the trial.

“Holy shit, if I lose, I have to marry the guy? What in the backwater 1950s misogyny?”

“You have to what—FUCK!”

Law yelped and gripped his wrist, falling back onto his rear as you rushed to his side. You were trying to figure out what could have happened, given his hand was sizzling and his skin steamed while it bubbled with blisters as if he had severely burned himself. The panic set in, your mind reeling at everything and anything in the house that could have caused this.

“What happened?” Was all you could muster up to ask as he lay on his back with labored breaths, gritting his teeth in horrific pain.

“Is that iron!?” Law barked, lifting his head from the floor to look in the cabinet. You were still confused as you looked between him and your cookware before he yelled again, “IS THAT FUCKING CAST IRON OR NOT?!”

With some hesitation from his angered tone (though it was justified given his condition), you tentatively reached into the cabinet and pulled out a cast iron frying pan with a ceramic coating that you had brought with you from your old apartment. You hadn’t used it much, but it was good for a few things. When you held it up, Law scuttled backward, trying to get to his feet, “Keep that thing away! You trying to kill me?”

“I…but it’s coated…” you were holding it up before you looked at it, then back to Law as he glared at it. You then held up your other hand in a defensive manner, “Okay, okay. I’m getting rid of it!”

Once you tossed it in your trash, you held out your hand to Law to help him up. He shook his head, “Wash your hands, please.”

Your heart was still beating rapidly from the commotion as you stepped over him to the sink, washing your hands over and over until he was finally standing again, using the counter for support. His hand wasn’t sizzling as bad, and after he told you that you could stop scrubbing, he put his hand under the water. The two of you stood there in silence as he rubbed his face with his good hand.

Reaching out, you gently touched his shoulder, causing him to jump before he looked at you, features softening to his typical blank expression. The man released a sigh, his eyes fixed on his hand now soothed by the cool water, “Iron is lethal to many of our kind. Just touching it can do this kind of damage to us. If you had ever cooked me anything on that without knowing, it would have poisoned me.”

His tone of voice was calm, but you couldn’t help the feeling in the pit of your stomach that you were being scolded. It was an accident, you already knew Law well enough to know he wasn’t blaming you. How would you have known? He had never mentioned it before, even with all of the lectures, charts, and books, and while you had some concept of fairy tales and things that people always said in media and stories as if they were common knowledge didn’t mean you knew them to be true or not.

He ran his good hand through his fluffy black hair, then removed his injured one from the water, almost healed. It still looked as if he had burned himself on something, and you furrowed your brow, grabbing a towel to gently pat his hand dry as you inspected it.

Again, Law sighed, putting his other hand on top of yours, “It’s okay, I’ll be fine. It… it just scared me, that’s all.”

You still managed to open his injured hand to look at it again, gently running your finger along the parts of his palm that didn’t show the burns, “I still should have known something. I sort of knew about iron, but I never figured this was how it would affect you. Pan was coated and everything.”

Law did his best to give you a smile, “You’re still fairly new to this, despite how quickly you settled in. I guess I should have given you better crash courses.”

Humming softly to yourself, your mind was miles away as you continued to trace the lines of his hand, just trying to remind yourself of how you could be better. You cared deeply for Law, even if you still did your best to keep it professional and friendly.

He lifted your face, hand cupping your jaw as he brushed his thumb against your skin. The gesture was far more intimate than either of you realized before you felt his thumb brushing away a tear. Law chuckled, “You don’t have to cry over it, big baby. I’m not mad.”

Despite the small giggle that came from you, you moved his hand away, “I’m not crying. One tear is not crying.” You then had to turn away from him to hide your embarrassment, as well as double-check your cookware that there wasn’t any more potential iron in the way, “Come on, let’s cook your breakfast.”

The two of you worked together to make scrambled eggs, bacon, and pancakes. One of the few upsides to inheriting your grandfather’s old house was his rarely used large cooktop that gave enough space for you and Law to stand side by side. He flipped the pancakes while you watched his tattooed hands do the work, even with the one having touched iron. The man was humming, and you could tell he was in a good mood.

Nudging him gently with your hip, you still couldn’t help but ask, “Sure you aren’t mad?”

“I��m sure,” Law chuckled, “but I will feel better after we eat.”

“Promise?” You teased him more, already feeling the jitters in your body before he answered you with a smile.

“I promise.”

Your head was in your hands as you could still hear Doflamingo laughing. Not as if it was a memory, he was at the bar with a few of his friends. Law had warned you not to go to the facility without him to hand over the contract. The two of you meticulously went over it with a fine tooth comb the whole day before, and you finally signed it with the name you consented to represent you (like hell you would ever let Doflamingo know your real name), but even though all of your clocks were correct, you got the time wrong and showed up an hour before everyone had agreed to meet.

And yet the fae was right there, at the designated booth just for you, sipping a glass of wine that was darker than the night sky and yet shimmered with an ethereal light at the same time, smiling in that strange and twisted way of his. His mantle of pink feathers always seemed like such an odd choice to you, and it physically sparked with what you could only describe in your mind as fairy dust. He always seemed allergic to buttoning his shirt that it made you wonder why he ever wore them in the first place. For a man with so much power, he always looked like he was on laundry day, and nothing matched.

His grin held all the secrets you knew he wasn’t telling you as he tried to sweet talk you into sitting next to him. He even whispered devilishly delectable words that almost tempted you to give in to his desires. Doflamingo was convincing, and you could see why he always had quite a few hot little things around his arm whenever you saw him out and about at the facility. There was an attractiveness to him, even with knowing what he really was. But there was always something there, something you were aware of. An intangible warning of extreme danger at the edge of his person where his shadow began, a deep-rooted fear of just how sharp his teeth really were in that deranged smile. His fingers always gave your skin soft caresses that promised peaks of pleasure, and yet they were stone cold.

It became easier and easier for you to always politely decline him without encouraging the wrath you knew lurked behind that dark gaze, sliding his oversized contract on the trial toward him. That was all you had gone there to do that evening, after all. You were wondering if Doflamingo somehow had something to do with your clocks being off in his attempt to get you alone, especially since his expression dropped, along with some of his glamor as he lost the alluring mystique that always made it seem like someone was standing in front of him with perfect ring lighting at all times.

But then he laughed.

Shaking his head, he stood to his feet, taking the contract and sticking it inside of his mantle as if he had a whole filing cabinet in there, “Alright, all business. I like it when you play hard to get. So I hope you enjoy your Trial by Yield.”

He said nothing else, laughing as he walked his strange walk over to his friends waiting by the bar. One oozed while the other always seemed to wiggle in strange ways, and you could never figure out which was more unsettling.

From the position of your booth, you could no longer see the man, and all of the weight of everything began to press slowly to your skin, pushing you down more and more into the fear of what was to come. Trial by Yield—what does that even mean? How is yield a trial? Did he expect you to fight? You were terrible at fighting. Was he expecting you to yield to oncoming traffic? Did Arch Fae even drive? In the back of your mind, you screamed for Law, as if he could hear you.

A hand clasped your shoulder, and you immediately turned to face who you at first thought was Law before you realized the hand was far too big, and the face too happy. Rosinante blocked out the light behind his head and was still a welcome sight as he looked you over with concern.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” He slipped into the booth when you made room for him beside you. Unlike his brother, Rosinante was compassionate, caring, and wore his heart on his sleeve. Sure, as a vampire lord, he had his own secrets behind his red eyes, but he was at least honest with his intentions and motives.

Besides, being Law’s adoptive father (at least as you understood it) made you more inclined to trust him since you held such faith in Law. Rosinante had even trusted you with his first name, but you knew better than to use it in public. He wrapped his black feathered mantle around you, bringing you into his safe space. It was also enchanted that if he pulled someone into it, the conversation became private.

You let out a deep breath, your body beginning to shake as you spoke, “I… your brother just named the trial. He said Trial by Yield. And then just walked away. I have no idea what that means…”

The vampire lord rubbed your back, shushing you gently, “Hey now. It’s not so bad. He just means you have a year from this date to do what farmers do. To grow crops and run the farm. If the fates deem you successful, you’ll pass. The others know how to keep the lands lush and green, so there isn’t much to it.”

While his words were comforting, you could barely hold back your sob, “You seem so sure, but have you met your brother, Corazon? He’s going to do something to make me fail. I know it… I know he will.”

Rosinante just laughed, “Well, duh. I don’t think he’d be the bastard he is if he didn’t.” He ruffled your hair, giving you his warm smile that felt like all of your cares and worries would go away, “But you are not going through this alone. No one here would have you lose to him. We don’t want you to lose the farm, either.”

“And I’d have to marry him.”

His face immediately dropped into disbelief and a hint of anger, “You’d have to what?”

“Y/N-ya!”

Law’s voice rang out through the crowd. Your first name was no real secret to anyone at this point, but you still preferred if he wouldn’t just scream it in a public space. Calling back out to him, you forgot he couldn’t hear you because of the enchantment. He looked frantic, moving through the crowd of people.

You stood to call out to him, but since Rosinante’s mantle was still around you, he didn’t hear your voice. The larger vampire man had an easier time flagging Law down and directing him over. The Fossegrim rushed to the booth, and Rosinante got up to allow Law to sit beside you instead of him, releasing you from the warmth of feathers around you. Law slid into place, and you first saw the fear painted across his features before his brow furrowed together into almost a scowl.

“Why in the world did you come here without me?” He asked in a raised voice, “If it wasn’t for Uni and Clione texting me you already met with him—” Law never spoke Doflamingo’s name, usually using “Doff” “him” or on special occasions “that bastard”, “—I’d have never known you were already here!”

Glancing around Law straight to the two men at the bar, Uni and Clione instantly turned their heads away from you and pretended to clean the bar top. Hakugan, who also worked at the bar, waved at you nonchalantly as if you weren’t accusing them of making Law mad at you. Jean Bart pulled Hakugan’s arm down, shaking his head.

Your attention went back to Law, glaring right back at him, “I was honestly convinced I was running late due to every clock in my house and even my phone showing a different time. When I got here and it was just him, what did you expect me to do? Run away?”

Law growled, folding his arms. He really couldn’t fault you, but he radiated annoyance, “You still should have waited for me.”

Both of you were interrupted by Rosinante’s chuckle, leaning his cheek against his hand, “This little lover’s spat is cute, but there are bigger issues, kiddos.”

“We’re not lovers!” You and Law both answered in unison, the heat on your skin being both embarrassment and your heart shattering at the same time hearing the goat man say it out loud.

Rosinante continued to smile, “Sure, not the point. My brother named her trial.”

Law kept his arms folded, but his scowl dropped, “And?”

You looked at your hands in your lap, unable to look back at Law since Rosinante teased you both about being the L word, “He said the Trial by Yield. Corazon said that this wasn’t bad. It could work in my favor.”

While you tried to have some optimism in your current state, Law scoffed, “Of course he did.” Then let out a hiss, “That fucking snake.” (That was a new one.)

Rosinante’s face dropped into a frown, it did not do that often unless his brother was talking to him, “Do you wish to share your concerns? Or do I need to start showing Y/N your baby pictures again to make you talk?”

Law’s anger changed to a pout, “There’s a difference between me not sharing personal information, like my birthday, and letting me get my thoughts out now. Yes, I have concerns. The weather patterns for this coming year are predicting drought, and our water reserves are low. Trial by Yield means she has to show an increase from last year, which would be a blessing if there wasn’t also a minor blight we’re already fighting in some of the fields. There can be no interference on weather or soil from either side in a trial of time, only time can pass. We can order water, and get the plants treated, but if over time the overall harvest is less than last year, IE: the yield, she loses. Changing anything in our favor via magical means could be a literal death sentence, because he would get to pick the punishment.”

Your face went into your hands, mostly to hide how hard you were biting your lip to keep from actively crying. It was a moment before Law realized what he said and let out a sigh, “Hey, but that doesn’t mean it’s impossible. We can still do what we can.”

The heat of the tears in your eyes were threatening to overflow down your cheeks, and you knew removing your hands from your face would only show them and the world the depth of your current despair. There was silence all around you, and you felt Law’s hand ghost your shoulder, but instead, you heard him get up to leave.

“Where are you going?” Rosinante asked.

“To make a plan,” Law answered curtly, disappearing out of sight. The dam of your tears broke, and you began to cry. You hadn’t cried like this in months, and it felt worse that you were doing it in public.

Rosinante came back to your side, draping his mantle over you. “It’s alright. Just let it all out.”

You leaned into his side, still trying to hide your tears, just grateful that no one could hear you. When your tears ran dry, Rosinante even went to get you some water, leaving his mantle about your shoulders as he came back.

“Your girlfriend is a lucky woman, Corazon,” you gave him a half smile as you held the water in both of your hands.

He shook his head with a smile, “I’m the lucky one with her. She sends her love, by the way. Work has her overseas again.” Reaching under the table, he pulled a present from nowhere, “She also felt bad that she didn’t send you a gift for your celebration, and asked me to pass this along.”

Confused, you looked at the package, then to him, “Your lady’s human, though. She doesn’t have to present me with anything.”

He shrugged his shoulders with a soft smile, “She’s a part of my life, she wants to participate in our customs I guess. Besides, she said you never know when you’ll need it.”

Opening the box, you stared at the intricate knotted cross made of metal and plated in gold. The word “hope” was stamped across it. The whole present was confusing, neither you nor she were religious by any means, “Um, thanks?”

Rosinante smiled, leaning on his hand again, “Sometimes, hope can be the strongest weapon.”

The strongest weapon your ass.

The next year was dismal. You did hang the cross on the wall out of politeness since Rosinante and his partner came over quite often. However, the more you looked at it, the more disillusioned you became with the idea of hope.

The drought Law predicted was no joke. Water was hard to get ordered and shipped out as the news reported reservoirs and the like dropping to national emergency levels. The lack of water caused the disease infecting the plants to spread, and it was harder and harder to stay on top of it.

If it weren’t for the revenue of the facility, there really would have been issues with bills being paid and keeping your heads afloat. Your only escape from the demands and stresses of the day was listening to Law’s band play. A few months in, he had started to avoid you, so it slowly became one of the few times you could see him. The man still met with you to discuss issues, but after a while, he started sending Shachi or Penguin in his place or sending messages through Ikakku.

It hurt.

The more distance he put between the two of you, the more you felt the void sucking your soul into it. At least you could see him at his shows, and listen to his music, even if you had begun to know the songs by heart. The vibrations of the music would still flow through you, making it feel as if Law were performing for just you, letting you pretend that everything was fine for a short while.

And when it was over, your body would feel heavy. You already knew if you tried to talk to him backstage, he’d be gone or find a reason to not have time to talk. Law was keeping up on task with his chores and always made sure you got the reports and paperwork that you needed as the Human Liaison. But the only thing you really needed was for him to give you any sign that things were okay. Even if it were a thumbs-up from afar, you’d take that over this cold shoulder treatment any day.

Your chores took longer with the cows one day, and while brushing Sunshine (you would still die for her), you broke down crying against her soft coat. She slowly laid down for you to snuggle into her, and she reached her neck around to hug you as best as a bovine could. Sunshine truly was the best cow, and you allowed yourself to lose yourself in your tears. As your sobs softened into sniffles then to silence, you continued to brush your fingers through her golden pelt.

“I can’t do this anymore…” your voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper, “What little is surviving isn’t enough, and we have to harvest next week. I… I’m going to have to marry him.” If you had any tears left to cry, you’d do so, but there truly was nothing left as you felt the back of your throat drying the more you spoke, “I doubt he’ll let me go after he does. He doesn’t seem the kind of man to let what is “his” out of his clutches…”

You let out a laugh, feeling as though you were going mad at the acceptance of what was going to be your fate. It really was hopeless. There was nothing left you could do short of a miracle before becoming his personal Princess Leia on a leash. Oh god, he probably had that outfit for you already, too.

“It won’t happen.”

Jolting up at Law’s voice, you looked around in the barn for him. He was nowhere to be seen, and yet you were sure it was him. You swallowed down what little you had in your mouth, trying to coat it in any moisture possible as you croaked out, “You promise?”

He didn’t answer, causing you to tremble in your feeling of madness. You must have been losing your mind, laughing to yourself again. Holding your head in your hands, Sunshine nudged you with her nose, and as you looked at her, you noticed a piece of paper had fluttered to the ground. It landed face-up with a simple message.

I promise.

You clung to that piece of paper as if your life depended on it. What you wanted to do was to scream and yell and demand of Law why he had been avoiding you. But deep down you knew to just trust him. Law never did anything without reason, and that was the last real bit of hope you could give yourself.

Folding the note up as neatly as you could, you kept it tucked away in your pocket, then put it next to your pillow when you went to bed. You stared at it in the dark all night until you finally fell asleep. However, it wasn’t long before you heard panicked screaming and yelling. As you rushed out of bed, you could see it all just outside the window.

With the drought, lack of water resources, and blight, it was the perfect mix for the fields to catch fire—from what you had no idea. Your body shook, unable to respond as you watched the others struggle to contain it. Everything. Gone in an instant.

It still took hours before the fires dwindled to controlled smolders, but they didn’t have much to go on. Nothing was left, not a single yield.

You stood there, staring out over the desolate waste that had always been so green, lush, and plentiful since you could remember as a child. Sure, there had been fires before. Life and disasters happen. But this? It was devastating and poorly timed. Or, for Doflamingo, perfectly timed. The deadline for the end of your trial was just a few more days away, a whole year had gone by, and it was all for naught.

Ikkaku sat with you on the front porch, Bepo coming in and out as he tried to bring you food or drinks. You didn’t speak, nor did you realize any time had passed until you blinked and suddenly realized the sun was gone, and both of them were snoring. A cold wind blew, and you felt the impending dread of your future with it. The moon slowly became obscured by clouds, and you smelled the overwhelming scent of rain with it.

A cruel irony, of course it would finally rain now. You began to curse it in your mind as you saw the wall of rain slowly move its way up the dirt path and driveway of your homestead, feeling each prick of ice with the drops that touched your skin. With nothing left in you mentally, emotionally, and possibly physically, you got to your feet and began walking.

Down the once dusty path now turning to mud, around to the edge of tree line out toward the fields. They would turn to nothing but sludge from all the ash, but you had to see it for yourself. The confirmation that everything was truly gone. That there was truly nothing left. The proof of your failure.

However, the rain began to warm, and you were astonished that slowly, very slowly, green began to poke up from the dirt and decay. Where once was barren and desolate, turned green and lush. You had to be dreaming, or you’ve finally cracked under the pressure and were straight up hallucinating.

Rubbing your eyes, you blinked as the empty fields filled with full-grown plants, perfect and ready for harvest. How was it even possible? Or plausible? Was it magic? It had to be. But that meant someone was interfering, which meant you would lose anyway.

In the distance, barely over the pouring rain, you caught the sound of a violin. Its melody was soft, almost a lonesome wailing of lament. You remembered when Law was first teaching you of his kind, Fossegrim specialized in the magic of sound manipulation, meaning they used music to cast their spells. It was why he was more musically inclined, and you remember making a joke that he just used magic to make his band popular. He wasn’t happy about it, and it was the first time you saw him pout.

Your feet struggled to run on the slowly softening ground, knowing that you had to find the source. If it was Law, then why was he doing this? Now? After all this time? You never asked him to, and you knew Doflamingo would for sure demand blood for his interference. Law had been avoiding you for so long, why was he putting his neck out like this?

As you got closer, the music was louder, clearer; the feeling and intent of the tune more discernible. His song was sorrowful, full of heartbreak and pain. All of the pain you were also feeling at the dread of your failure. You had been out of tears for a while, but the rain on your cheeks would have hidden them anyway.

Finally, you made it to a small clearing. Law was sitting there on a fallen log as he played, stark naked, or at least it seemed that way, as for once you saw his goat legs and lower half. His ears were down, and his expression was more solemn than you had ever seen him before.

“Law!”

You felt like it took you ages to get your voice together to call out to him over all the rain. He jumped, dropping his violin and gawking at you as he rose to his feet—or hooves in this case. From his obliques down, he was covered in fur, with nothing but a small loincloth covering his bits.

“Y/N-ya!” He put his instrument down into its case, and you could see from this distance it was somehow staying dry even as he closed it, “Get out of here! Go home! You’ll catch your death!”

“Better than what I’m destined for!” You snapped at him, angry that he was making a sacrifice like this. He had told you the toll that magic can take on an individual if they use too much, and you could already see the deep recess of his eyes, his pallor was borderline sickly, and he looked like he hadn’t had a decent meal in a few days. Stumbling toward him, he met you halfway, catching you as you tripped on a root.

Holding your shoulders in his hands as he attempted to steady you, Law bent his body down to look you in the eyes, “Don’t say that! Don’t you dare say that!”

Your hands weakly beat against his chest, “And why not?! You’re pulling a fucking Hail Mary in the seventh-inning stretch!”

“None of those sports terms go together.”

“Who cares!” You threw your arms up, breaking his hold on you, “Law, you’re breaking the rules! He’ll—”

Your voice cracked as you attempted to gain your breath with your heart beating so hard it was disturbing your breathing. Law wrapped his tattooed arms around you, pulling you close to him as you sniffled.”

“He’ll kill you…”

Law did not respond. There was nothing for him to say. He pet your hair as if he were trying to squeeze the water out, despite the downpour you both were standing in. His arm hugged around you tighter, his lips pressed to your temple. For a long moment, he held you there. You could feel his heart against his chest, beating just as rapidly as your own.

“You weren’t supposed to know,” he finally whispered after a time, “I kept my distance in case I had to do this. I had to keep you away from my plan because he couldn’t come after you if you didn’t know. If I acted alone, you’d be free of him.”

Looking up at him as best you could in the rain, you pounded lightly on his chest once more, “Why Law? Why would you do this? Why risk your life for mine?”

His eyes went wide with surprise, reminding you that his pupils were long and rectangular, “I thought that would be obvious,” he gave you a soft and charming smile before he bit his lip and continued, “But I couldn’t…” Law choked on his words as he brushed the wet strands of your hair from your face, “… I can’t let him take you. My heart could handle you with anyone else in the world, but not him. You could be spared so long as you didn’t know that I pulled this. That I healed the lands… I’d spill my own blood if it meant you could be free of him.”

You cupped his face in your own hands, doing your best to wipe both his tears and the rain away, “But I can’t live my life without you in it, Law. Shit, even with you being an ass and practically ignoring me for the better part of the year! I still want you in my life you fucker! Because for whatever reason, I still love you, you asshole!”

He leaned in, pressing his lips against yours, somehow managing to pull you closer against him. His kiss was heated, passionate, and yet his lip quivered as he broke it, forehead resting on yours, “I’m sorry. I thought I was doing the right thing. Keeping a distance so no one would think you were a part of my plan. I’ve hated it; hated myself. Your crying has been driving me insane, and now it’s all been for nothing because you’re here and just… I don’t even know anymore.”

Law’s golden eyes looked deep into yours, his breathing heavy. You could no longer feel the rain, numb on your body as all you could feel was the warmth of his and the steady yet racing rhythm of his heart.

“I love you. I always have. I always will, and I will never stop.” His hand shook as he ran it through your hair, “I’ll do anything you ask to make up for how I’ve been. If this could be my last night on this earth, just smile for me, one more time. Please.”

You threw your arms around his neck, grinning near ear to ear, “Kiss me again, and I’ll never stop smiling.”

His lips found yours, a hum escaping him as the kiss deepened and you tasted the rain against his tongue. A sigh escaped you as the both of you began to stumble backward until you felt the rough bark of a tree. Your hands moved up into his hair as his lips trailed down his neck, and a few of your fingers wrapped around one of his horns.

Law let out a growl, his long and deft fingers slipping under your shirt to lift it up and out of the way haphazardly. The soaked fabric refused to leave your skin, but after a few frustrated grunts, Law managed to free you of your top as it plopped in the mud. It would stain, but that wasn’t a concern right now. His tattooed fingers managed to undo your pants, but he immediately ran into the same problem, worse now since you were wearing jeans.

“Why the fuck would you wear denim in the rain?” He growled, having to remove his lips from your body as he dropped to his knees (do goat legs have knees?) to pull your pants down.

Your own hands moved to help him, laughing, “Oh, I’m sorry, I wasn’t exactly expecting to reconcile with the idiot I’m in love with when my life was crashing around me and I thought there was no hope left.”

He glared at you as you both managed to get your clothing off that the water turned to cling film. You managed to get your panties off with it, mostly because they also stuck to your jeans, and now you were just wearing your bra. His heated gaze took you in, and were it not for the rapid rising and falling of his breath, you’d have thought he froze.

Law’s hands moved to your sides, sliding up and down your waist and hips as his lips pressed themselves just below your navel. His kisses moved down until they tugged on your clit a few times, causing your knees to buckle slightly and your hands to grasp his horns. Doing so sparked a fire deep within him, and you gasped as his tongue furiously lapped at your folds with little warning. Your grip tightened as he let out another growl, rocking your hips as you rode his face, subconsciously directing him with his horns to the peak of your pleasure.

With your back arching off the tree, you knew the bark was imprinting its pattern on your skin, but gave it little thought as you got closer and closer. However, you whined loudly when Law removed his face from the apex of your legs and instead stood to his full height. He gripped you behind your thighs, spreading your legs around his furry hips.

Slowly, the head of his cock prodded at your sopping entrance until he gently pushed in, a shuttered moan escaping you yet again. You clung to him tightly, both of you panting heavily as he filled you in the most delicious way possible. Law’s hips met yours, a gasp escaping him as he started a gentle rocking motion that worked up into rougher thrusts.

“I love you, Y/N-ya.”

“I love you, too. Fuck, Law! Don’t let me go. Don’t ever let me go!”

“Never again.” He smiled against your neck, grunting as he gave you a small bite.

You couldn’t help your smile as you closed your eyes, hearing nothing but the slapping of his hips to yours and the heavy rain blocking out the rest of the world around you, “Promise?”

“I promise.”

After making love in the rain, the cold set in on your naked bodies, and though Law was half covered in fur, you could feel the chill setting in on his skin. You both ran back to your house naked, but luckily it had become late enough that no one was still there. Even though you were both dripping and covered in mud, you didn’t care about the state of the floors for now as you dragged Law into a hot shower with you.

He wasn’t the most thrilled when you asked if he needed shampoo for his lower half or regular soap. You felt it was a legitimate question, and he instead decided to distract you with kisses. It did work, you forgot any questions you’d have at that point. Once the shower was finished, you dried off and you climbed into bed while he blow dried his hair. This time you kept your question to yourself if he had to blow dry his lower half or not.

You were dozing off by the time he was climbing under the sheets next to you, wrapping you up in his tattooed arms, and kissing you sweetly. The sleep you had was deep, and you woke up to Law watching you. Normally, that may be a bit strange, but there was such a level of deep admiration in his eyes, that you couldn’t help but smile.

“Good morning,” your eyes were barely open, but you could see the smile he was trying to hide behind the pillow he hugged to himself as he lay on his stomach. Even with sleep still blurring your vision, you could see his little tail swishing happily behind him, “Someone seems to be in a good mood this morning.”

Law slowly pushed himself up to crawl a little closer to you, “Mmm, woke up to an angel next to me, so I can’t complain.”

He peppered your skin in kisses, the two of you laughing as you pulled each other into a loving embrace. Law leaned above you, his face illuminated by the dappling of sunlight through your windows and curtains. All felt right in the world, but there was still one last dark cloud looming on the horizon. Even with the comfort of his presence, and how you both were now on the same page with your feelings, there was still a sinking in your gut.

You must have already been expressing your doubts on your face, as Law’s expression also dropped. He cupped your face in his hand, running his thumb over your cheek, “What’s wrong?”

Placing your hand over his, you let out a small breath, “What now? Where do we go from here? And what do we do when… well… Doflamingo comes to collect?” You felt that was easier than asking what the plan was when he came to kill Law.

“We’ll cross that bridge when we get there. It’s not a fight we can deal with now.” Leaning in, his lips pressed against yours in the softest kiss, positioning himself between your legs, “For now, I don’t like that the thought took your smile away. I intend to fix that.”

Your kiss deepened, your hands gripping his back already as he ground his hips against yours. However, the moment was lost quickly when Bepo kicked down the front door, “HOLY SHIT, Y/N! COME LOOK! THE FIELDS GREW!”

Multiple feet clamored down the hall, and Law immediately rolled off you, rubbing his face. Even he already knew there was nothing that could be done, and hiding wouldn’t solve anything. It wasn’t the first time Bepo, Shachi, and Penguin charged into your room, nor would it ever be the last. However, you knew it would be the most shocking as the two men struggled to get through the doorway before the polar bear, but the three got stuck instead.

There was a long silence before they started screaming about you and Law in bed together (at least you both were covered now), and the whole of your social circle knew within the hour. You and Law did your best to not make a big deal of it, but luckily for you both, the fields being miraculously green and full were a great distraction as getting it all harvested and dealt with took priority.

After a long day, you went back to your house to shower—not before Law pulled you aside and made out with you behind the barn, smacked your ass, and told you he’d come make dinner tonight—still feeling the high of your new-found love when you felt the chill down your spine.

For the second time that day, your front door flung open. You heard Law call your name, but something wasn’t right. He sounded strained, and not because everyone had been working hard all day. Pushing open your bedroom door gently, you reached for your G-Pa’s old shotgun that you always kept by the bedroom door, keeping it behind your back.

“Law?”

He coughed in response, and as you peered around the corner, you saw him, but he wasn’t standing, he was being held up by something. Blood trickled down the corner of his mouth as you gazed on in horror as you saw Doflamingo’s fingers stabbed into his skin. On top of that, he was standing in your house. You had never invited Doflamingo in, how did he cross your threshold?

You knew better than to scream. Showing the Arch Fae any sign of weakness or fear could make this situation worse. His mirrored shades always made it hard to see where his eyes were, but you knew they were transfixed on you. He licked his lips, a deep and menacing laugh rumbling forth from him.

“Heard through the grapevine that someone may have interfered with your trial. Thought I’d come take care of the interloper.” With a flick of his wrist, Doflamingo threw Law to the ground.

Biting your lip hard, you were certain it would bleed. You didn’t want to add any more fuel to the fire. The man may have been smiling, but you could sense the malice and anger radiating off him as if they were a physical force. His large form barely fit in your home, towering over you as he always had, but physically hunched over you as he encroached on your personal space. For each step in your direction, you took one step back until he had you cornered against the wall.

His long fingers still covered in blood reached down to lift your chin, forcing you to look at him. You felt Doflamingo’s breath on your face, it reeked of death, and at this distance, you could sense his glamor was fading. His distorted and elongated features were almost grotesque, as if someone made a caricature of what a human somewhat looked like.

Doflamingo hummed, squeezing your cheeks together, “Whether you knew about this or not, in the end, you lose. Hope the two of you had fun last night, but I guess I can let it slide. After all, we aren’t married yet, but as my bride-to-be, you shouldn’t even fathom looking at others ever again.”

“I ain’t marrying you.”

The scowl scrunched his face which was the only indication you spoke out loud. His teeth grit together, a threatening growl escaping him. You knew you had to think fast, but he was far too close for you to use the shotgun on him without hurting yourself badly in the process. Luckily, you knew where you were, it was your house after all and reached up above you quickly to grab the cross that Rosinante’s girlfriend had gifted you.

You brandished the cross in his face, Doflamingo scoffing behind the eyes of your brother’s possessed body, “That won’t work. I’m no vampire, and you aren’t religious.”

“No shit!” you yelled at him as you bashed the side of his skull and he went down, hard. Doflamingo screamed as he held the side of his face, skin sizzling, cracking, and popping. He thrashed on the ground, howling in pain as you held the cross up and then dropped it squarely on his chest. Another sound of agony came from the Arch Fae, but it was neither human nor animal.

“It’s iron!”

Doflamingo clawed at his chest, unable to pick up the iron cross as if it were a heavy weight. His fingers burned and shook, unable to do anything as you picked up the shotgun, preparing it as you pointed it to his face.

“You wouldn’t dare kill me in cold blood. There’s massive consequences for that!” He hissed. “It’s in our contract!”

Law struggled to stand, eyes wide as he watched you double-check that it was still loaded. You hummed, “You know, when I first moved here, Law made me sit and read through a billion and one books on Sacred Magical Law. The first of these was the Laws of Hospitality after we joked about baring my brother from the lands. Good thing, too. Because it helps me to know about article one of the hospitality law of sacred magic: “One will not enter any dwelling uninvited.” There are specific sub-laws of how to circumvent these things, such as how you used Law’s blood to enter. However, in doing so makes any contract you and I held null and void.”

Cocking the gun again you stuck it in his mouth, gagging him from trying to talk around the truth, “And since you crossed my threshold without invitation, any act I carry out against you falls under home law. I am the owner of this home. My choice is law here.”

“Huh…” Law pointed to himself.

“What? No, I mean, of course I’m picking you in the end. I meant law as in law of the land, justice law… not your name. I get to set the rules in my home.”

Doflamingo gagged and gargled around the barrels of the shotgun, but you knew better than to remove them. You looked back at him, seeing yourself reflected in his glasses, and for once, you thought you could see his eyes through them, the fear in them as he knew his life was in your hands was the first and last you ever saw of them as you pulled the trigger.

“You could have warned me, you know.”

Law had you wrapped in a blanket, now back in his office at the facility. He poured you a drink, placing the glass in front of you as he shrugged, “If I’m honest, I didn’t think you’d actually pull the trigger. But, yeah… Arch Fae tend to burst into flame when killed so… sorry ‘bout that.”

Nodding, you held the glass in one hand, sighing as you tried to erase the aftermath from your mind, even more so the fire that then consumed the house. You’d be fine to never see another fire in your life at this point.

“So, what now?” You looked up to Law, shirtless now that he was bandaged from his injuries. They weren’t deep, he’d heal over time.

Law shrugged, “Well, first of all, we rebuild the house.”

You gave him a half-hearted laugh, “Yeah, I meant more so with like… my killing the Arch Fae of the land.”

“Oh,” he sat back against his desk, folding his arms over his chest, “His titles and all that comes with it falls to Cora-san now. He’ll most likely refuse it and name someone else in his stead, and that person will take on the title of Arch Fae.”

Taking a sip of the liquor, you made a face as it burned the back of your throat. You didn’t completely pay attention when Law poured it for you, but you still weren’t prepared for it being so strong. Sticking out your tongue, you put it back on his desk and cleared your throat, “What about the consequences.”

Again, Law shrugged, “You said it yourself. He broke hospitality. Even at his rank, he is not above sacred law.”

You chewed on the inside of your lip, nodding almost absentmindedly. This time the night before, you were dreading your life as it was to come, and now, here you were. Free of it all. Doflamingo was gone, and you never had to be cursed by his shadow darkening your day ever again.

Law reached down to gently rub your shoulder, “Hey. How are you holding up?”

“I’m not sure,” you answered him, placing your hand on his before sighing out heavily, “It hasn’t sunk in with everything that’s happened I guess. So, prepare for a screaming crying breakdown in the future most likely.”

Law gave you a soft smile, “Noted.” He then knelt next to your chair to look up at you, a near-dreamy look in his eyes. Gently, he brushed a strand of hair out of your face, “I’ll be right here when you do.”

As you looked down to him and ran your fingers through his hair, then traced the shape of one of his horns, you couldn’t help yourself as you asked.

“Promise?”

“I Promise.”

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