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starcurtain · 3 months ago

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A Look at Ratio and Aventurine... and Ratio/Aventurine

I was morally obligated to use this picture.

Anyway, I got an ask about my understanding of Ratio and Aventurine's relationship both in canon and as a ship that I have been holding on to for a while now because... phew, there's like... a lot to talk about there... But I felt I should at least give it a try, so here is my attempt to comment on the intersection of two of Star Rail's most complicated personalities. Long post is longgggg; you have been warned.

First, Aventurine's canon relationship to Ratio:

In the interest of not hitting tumblr's image limit, let's just throw out some of the information we have in one go:

It's pretty complimentary. (Yet somehow...)

The implication of the infamous "Keeping Up with Star Rail" video is that Ratio understands Aventurine better than anyone else, and Aventurine knows this. At the very least, putting all shipping aside, Ratio is the person who can explain Aventurine's behaviors best. He's the person Aventurine chooses do so. This suggests significantly more knowledge of each other's lives than the game first led us to believe.

Other people (read as: my GOAT Owlbert) perceive respect from Aventurine to Ratio, and although I read them as a bit sarcastic, the 2.1 mission logs not only repeatedly confirm that Aventurine views Ratio as smart and reliable, but that Ratio is reliable "as always," again indicating a longer and closer history of collaboration than we get to actively see in game. The devs were working hard to tell us "Penacony isn't Ratiorine's first rodeo," which is interesting--given Topaz's voiceline recommending the Trailblazer avoid working with Aventurine whenever possible, we're led to believe through 2.0 and 2.1 that not many people will willingly work with Aventurine more than once, let alone many times.

While going through psychological scrutiny from the Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come his Harmony-infused self, the "Future" Aventurine suggests that Ratio and Aventurine are quite similar, and that Aventurine puts a surprising amount of trust in Ratio, to be willing to hinge such a dangerous plan on something as untested as Ratio's ability to act. At the very least, Aventurine's own psyche is pondering on Ratio and whether or not their connection has any emotional meaning.

But despite all this evidence suggesting Ratio and Aventurine spend significantly more time with each other than we get to see in game, Aventurine's own thoughts cast strong doubt on whether he and Ratio are actually close.

Aventurine's "About Dr. Ratio" voice line suggests that Aventurine believes Ratio does not particularly like him. He seems to think that Ratio would prefer to stay away from IPC operations where possible, and it's "unfortunate" for Ratio to be stuck with Aventurine as a conversation partner. He's tolerated, rather than enjoyed. His overall impression seems to be that Ratio mostly views them as distant coworkers.

When the "Future" Aventurine suggests Ratio did not betray Aventurine willingly, actual Aventurine immediately pushes back:

(Personally I'm on the fence about whether this was real doubt or just a ploy to continue sussing out Sunday; see my other post about this scene for some more thoughts.)

But if we take this statement to be played straight, it implies that Aventurine doesn't fully believe Ratio will side with him, even (maybe especially) in dire circumstances. If this statement is real doubt, then despite considering Ratio the person who best understands him, despite building an entire life or death gamble around Ratio's loyalty... Aventurine still doesn't think Ratio even likes him.

Aventurine's not stupid or blind, so theoretically he should be able to read the situation better than that. But actually, there's plenty of evidence both in the game and outside it to suggest that Aventurine is not the most accurate judge of his own relationships to others and is a down-right terrible judge of his own worth as a person.

"Future" Aventurine suggests that one of Aventurine's deep inner flaws--the truths that he rejects about himself--is a massive inferiority complex. This is backed up well by the mission text, where Aventurine's thoughts about himself spiral into self-harm, and the scene in the maze, where "Future" Aventurine taunts our Aventurine with the unforgettable fact that his entire life was only worth pennies:

There's also pretty consistent self-deprecation, with both "Future" and real Aventurine noting several times that he's a pathetic mess of a person that other people don't trust or like.

The overall impression 2.0-2.1 left me with is that Aventurine is perfectly capable of respecting and caring for others, but virtually incapable of accepting other people genuinely respecting and caring for him.

Part of this seems to stem from the directly-stated sense that he's a failure whose only worth is in transactional exchanges, using and being used by others (there's so many layers to this--internalized racism even), but I also suspect that much of his inability to accept genuine connection from others is defensive behavior.

Aventurine's true self, Kakavasha, is deeply hidden away, like the ghost of the child that manifests from his Harmony delusion in the Dreamscape. Although Aventurine clings to that person, claiming that he has "never changed," he actively coats over his beliefs, his kindness, and his authenticity with the mask of a "cavalier gambler," with glitz and glamor and showy distractions. No one gets to see Kakavasha. No one gets to know him, because being buried deep in the dirt is the only way to remain untouchable, and fiercely keeping one's distance is the only safe bet. (For both Kakavasha and any fools who would doom themselves by daring to care for him.)

So: Canon is telling us that Ratio is one of, if not the, closest people in the world to Aventurine. But canon is also telling us that that still means absolutely nothing at all, because Aventurine won't let himself be close to anyone living.

Aventurine's senses of self-worth, trust, attachment, and safety have been warped so badly by ongoing and untreated trauma and mental health issues that, at least until the end of 2.1, I just don't think he was capable of even accepting genuine friendship from Ratio, let alone anything more.

(Interesting side note here: Ratio is actually one of the people Aventurine calls "my friend" the least. He only says it directly to Ratio a single time in all of their lines of dialogue across 2.0 and 2.1, and even then, does so only when right outside Sunday's door, while almost certainly being spied upon by the Family. Anyone who knows how often "my friend" is peppered into Aventurine's dialogue otherwise should know that the absence of the phrase is actually pretty telling. It almost feels like canon Aventurine's not even sure he can call Ratio his friend, at least to Ratio's face.)

Which makes Ratio's canon relationship to Aventurine quite sad and ironic:

From start to finish, Ratio canonically esteems Aventurine more highly than almost any other character in the game. I'm not even talking about shipping when I say that there is no character Ratio is closer to in the entire game.

At present, Ratio has only four voice lines about other characters, and of those four, Aventurine's is the only one that isn't someone from the Genius Society. The only one. Ratio's voice lines are also notably, uh, not very complimentary. Herta is "talented but not helpful to others" and "sees no one as her equal" (read as: she's self-absorbed). Screwllum is a "monarch, rather than a genius" (with the vague implications of being a tyrant), and Ruan Mei is overly ambitious and "fooling everyone."

Meanwhile, Aventurine is "our man" (who is "our" Ratio? who?) whose success "can't all be chalked up to luck," implying that part of Aventurine's success must come from skill. Ratio notes that Aventurine questions his own ability... but as far as Ratio's evaluation goes, he seems to doubt that Aventurine will ever experience a downfall. For someone who thinks 99% of the people he meets are mediocre failures scrambling around in the filth of existence, to be recognized as skilled and unlikely to fail is quite obviously glowing praise.

Then, of course, there are numerous moments that echo Aventurine's hints, implying that Ratio spends significantly more time with Aventurine than we see on-screen, that he knows Aventurine extremely well, and, although he tries (vainly) to pretend he isn't, he's clearly quite concerned with what Aventurine thinks of him.

Especially this last one. "No wonder that gambler likes you so much" is pretty intentional on the devs' part, confirming that Ratio and Aventurine are having off-screen conversations we players are not privy to, which obviously would indicate a closer relationship than the in-game cutscenes could cover.

Then, Trailblazer has the option to flat out ask Ratio to "rate" Aventurine. (Star Rail ship bait is not even subtle.)

At first, this line might read as all over the place:

"The bosses say we're partners but I wouldn't say that" -> Read as: Ratio wants people to know how their relationship is classified but doesn't want to admit to being actually invested.

"I see myself as the teacher to everyone I meet" -> Read as: Ratio at least pretends that he doesn't view anyone as his equal; everyone is either above him--geniuses--or below him--students.

"Aventurine is not that bad of a student" -> High praise; even Ratio can't pretend Aventurine's untalented.

"Actually, Aventurine's probably in metaphysical danger" -> Read as: Ratio is aware of the "void" Aventurine is experiencing and his mental struggles.

The ultimate takeaway of Ratio's "rating" actually says more about Ratio than Aventurine. When it comes down to it, Ratio's choice to answer this question for the Trailblazer instead of dismiss it tells us that Ratio has spent time quantifying and trying to define his relationship with Aventurine, is willing to at least discuss that relationship with other people (when we have no evidence he ever discusses any other personal/non-academic matters with anyone), and that Ratio pays attention to Aventurine's mental states.

Canon Ratio is not beating the allegations, I'm afraid.

But actually, I think the biggest tell about Ratio's canon relationship to Aventurine is that Ratio's behavior completely changes the moment Aventurine appears in the game.

In every single one of Ratio's other appearances, two facts are hammered home again and again:

First, Ratio hates interacting with fools and "noisy" people. He wears his plaster bust so that he doesn't even have to see them. Canonically, we're informed by both March 7th and Argenti that Ratio brought and was wearing his headpiece in Penacony. Curiously though...

The players never see it throughout 2.X--probably because 90% of Ratio's scenes are with Aventurine, and Ratio is never shown wearing his bust on screen with Aventurine--even in their very first meeting in the Final Victor lightcone. Aventurine clearly knows of the bust, but despite Ratio verbally going on and on about how Aventurine is the most "flashy" and "devoid of logic" person Ratio knows... the devs deliberately send their message: Ratio has chosen not to cut himself off from Aventurine.

Aventurine can be more "clamorous" than a screaming peacock, but Ratio will still not put up walls against him. This isn't accidental. The devs had every opportunity in the world to go the opposite route and make jokes about Ratio refusing to take the bust off in Aventurine's obnoxious presence; instead they decided that Ratio apparently has a glaring, Aventurine-shaped exception to his "I don't want to perceive you fools or be perceived by you" life rule.

This "willing to tolerate shenanigans only if Aventurine is involved" behavior continues basically throughout all of Penacony's plot. In 2.3 for example, if you turn around and talk to Ratio again on the Radiant Feldspar, he flat out says:

But there's no actual explanation for why he's there in the first place. He mentions he was assigned to watch over "the IPC's ambassadors," which theoretically should apply to Jade and Topaz, yet we never see him interacting with them in any capacity. He's never even shown in the same room as Jade or Topaz, and he's not shown doing any other form of business for the IPC on the Feldspar either. Theoretically, he could have been on the Feldspar to meet regarding the Divergent Universe... except Screwllum wasn't there yet, and Ratio doesn't mention a single word about the Divergent Universe to the Trailblazer.

The only person Ratio talks about in his dialogue on the Feldspar is Aventurine, and the only non-Trailblazer he talks to in 2.3 at all is also Aventurine, replying to him and only him in the group chat.

He looked like he might give it a shot to try to befriend Boothill and Argenti at the end of 2.3... but immediately changes his mind and leaves without saying a word to them.

It's not really a stretch to suggest that the only reasonable excuse for Ratio to attend the party on the Feldspar was if he was there for Aventurine, a behavior that he himself notes is out of character. ("A waste of time" he says, as he stands there anyway.)

But, second and even more importantly: Ratio's single most defining character trait is that he believes people need to pick themselves up. The entire point of his debut appearance in the game was to present his philosophy that if the powerful or privileged intervene to continually "save" the mediocre, ordinary people will never learn for themselves or get the chance to grow. It is in times of desperation, he says, that fools exceed their limits and reach greatness.

This is why, in 1.6, he insisted on Asta and the Trailblazer being the ones to solve the attacks happening on the space station, without relying on Screwllum or the other geniuses. Although Ratio did actively intervene a little (using the phase flame to save the researchers from death), he did so only from behind the scenes, where his actual help would not be noticed by those affected and where it had no impact on their decision-making or their struggles to solve the mystery.

He let Asta and the Trailblazer panic. He let them flounder. He even deliberately misled them at points, claiming that Duke Inferno must have kidnapped the researchers (when it was actually Ratio himself who re-routed them).

Ultimately, Ratio let Asta and the Trailblazer grow from their experiences.

This is also why he lets the Trailblazer go blazing in to fight Ruan Mei's faux emanator of the propagation, despite knowing that Trailblazer was not actually strong enough to win. Ratio watched and was ready to intervene... but in the end he did not, because it was the Trailblazer's fight to lose.

Ratio's most defining character trait is that he believes standing back and observing is the true kindness, rather than inserting oneself and denying people their autonomy or opportunities to grow.

Buttttt... then there's Aventurine, and suddenly the story is completely different.

Suddenly, Ratio isn't an observer but becomes essential to the plan. He's even walking around making big claims about being the manager of the task, flexing all of his C+ acting ability to actively carry out their mutual ploy.

In 2.3, he claims he was just there to watch, and his Penacony sticker asserts he's only "a supporting character"--yet we have never seen Ratio take a more active role in the entire game. Unlike with the Trailblazer in 1.6, he's not primarily watching events unfold from shadowy corners. He's in Penacony as Aventurine's active partner in crime.

And, even more telling--he later jeopardizes their entire mission just to ask if Aventurine needs help.

What? Huh? The character who is famous for the voice line "You look distressed. Is something troubling you? If so, you can figure it out for yourself" is suddenly offering his assistance entirely unprompted?

The guy whose motto might as well be:

Is suddenly out here throwing his own core philosophy out the window to solve Penacony's mystery for Aventurine and save him from himself in Aventurine's hour of greatest need?

A lot of people get hung up on the second half of Ratio's letter, the part about staying alive, which of course is very sweet. But I think the second half causes people to forget that the first part of Ratio's letter is, quite literally, the answer to Penacony's mystery.

Ratio gave Aventurine the answer.

This is like if your professor just gave you and you alone the score key to the final exam and then turned around to insist he "doesn't play favorites."

Of course, Aventurine is brilliant and didn't need Ratio's answer about dormancy, which makes the fact that Ratio went out of the way to give it to him even more odd. Ratio despises unnecessary repetition. If he wasn't dead worried, he would never have given Aventurine an answer that Aventurine had the power to find on his own.

And, as far as canon tells us, Ratio has never done this for anyone else.

The difference is night and day. It's literally the Gordon Ramsay meme, with everyone else in the entire game being the "fucking donkeys" to Aventurine's "Oh dear. Gorgeous."

So: Even if we entirely put aside shipping, if we look strictly at what we're given in canon:

Ratio treats Aventurine with more respect than he treats most other characters in the game.

He involves himself in Aventurine's struggles in a way that he flat out refuses to do for anyone else.

He compromises his own beliefs purely out of concern for Aventurine.

So, at least as far as we've been shown in canon, it is accurate to state that Aventurine is the closest character to Ratio--and unlike Aventurine (king of self-gaslighting), Ratio isn't even good at acting like he doesn't care.

Frankly, the whole thing is a little sad. Ratio's behavior is so blatantly out of character that a smart person like Aventurine should easily be able to determine it is genuine, but Aventurine's personal hang-ups and ongoing trauma make it difficult for him to even see that authenticity, let alone put faith in it. Even in canon, Ratio is mostly unable to help himself when it comes to Aventurine, which is especially unfortunate given how badly skewed Aventurine's perception of himself and others is by the start of Penacony's story.

PHEW! I finally made it through canon content!

Now there's just... everything else... 🫠

Well, to be honest, I don't think I could ever manage to put all my thoughts about this ship into one post. Probably not even fifty posts.

So rather than trying to say everything there is to say about Ratiorine, what I want to focus on is how fantastically these two characters just fit together. Like puzzle pieces that need to be mirror opposites in order to link, these two characters parallel each other while also perfectly filling in each other's voids. It's some of the best character pair writing I've seen in a long time (though I'm still sort of convinced it was at least 50% sheer luck on Hoyo's part), and my perspective on their ship can really be tied to my underlying perception of Ratio and Aventurine's characters as remarkably similar individuals:

It's obvious that Aventurine is not a healthy or well-adjusted adult man, but like... neither is Ratio.

Both of these characters are "not quite right" marginalized people who, at least in my interpretation, have essentially given up on even faking normality and are now just vaguely play acting their way through being functioning members of a universe that is entirely unequipped to accept them for who they are. In a world full of cyborg cowboys and people with wings growing from their heads, the game still manages to somehow convince us that Aventurine and Ratio are odd ones out.

Kakavasha can't even exist in the dystopian capitalist hellscape of the IPC's machinations. "Aventurine" isn't even a real person, just a never-ending performance, a slick, devil-may-care persona without a single ounce of substance.

Ratio, meanwhile, is a world of one, rejected from the only place he thought he could find validation and acceptance but unable to lower himself to fit in anywhere else.

Aventurine is so bad at making genuine connections that he turns everyday conversations into gambles because he doesn't believe people will care enough to keep talking to him without tangible incentive.

Ratio's insistence on treating everyone as students, not as equals, also means he has an excuse to never emotionally engage with anyone he meets. (This is not at all a textbook method of intentional avoidance to prevent any chance of social rejection. Not at all.)

At the end of the day, Aventurine and Ratio both come across as desperately lonely, and so caught up in their own situations that they really don't have the ability to climb out of that hole on their own.

Preventing them from even being able to maintain any form of relationship is also the fact that neither one of them can even find justification. Neither one of them has a reasonable answer to the question "Why am I alive?" anymore, because Aventurine's reason died on Sigonia and Ratio's reason died with an IPC invitation instead of a Genius Society letter. Though their differing perspectives have led them on opposite paths pursuing their own answers to that ultimate question of "Why should I keep living?" (Aventurine was headed toward giving up before the end of Penacony, while Ratio has invented an immeasurable, impossible goal to distract himself from feeling purposeless), both of them are pretty much miserably unfulfilled in their current lives.

They're also both violently allergic to emotional vulnerability and to having any of their flaws or true desires actually be perceived. Both of them put up insanely high walls. Aventurine pushes boundaries with everyone he meets to provoke their hatred in advance, before they can come to disdain him for his "real" flaws. He acts out harmful racist stereotypes to use others' preconceptions for advantage, manipulating every situation he's in--incidentally affirming the stereotypes against his people by doing so.

Ratio puts a physical wall of plaster between himself and others, but the plaster bust actually doesn't have anything on the mental and emotional gymnastics he's engaged in to justify his isolation from the world, doing everything in his power to convince himself that he's isolated by choice, that it's perfectly logical for Veritas Ratio to have nowhere to truly belong, no one to truly belong with. He's so mundane after all. Of course the geniuses don't want him, that's just commonsense. But everyone else is so... different, so foolish, so illogical... It just wouldn't be reasonable of him to try to become one of them either, to be their friend instead of their distant educator. (You know, if you never try to integrate with others, then they can't reject you. Ratio has learned his lesson.)

Somehow, Aventurine and Ratio are two of the most competent and successful people in Star Rail's entire universe and simultaneously also two of the most misfit, reject, dysfunctional messes in the game. Like... Blade has a better support network than Aventurine and Ratio combined. The 7000-pound murderous mech with a disabled, genetically-modified war veteran who never got to live a normal human life hiding inside it is more capable of making friends than Aventurine and Dr. Ratio.

Which is why I love that the devs decided to make their canon backstory: "Some absolute treasures in the IPC and the Intelligentsia Guild had the galaxy-brained idea of pairing Ratio and Aventurine as strategic partners." The game's writing really said: "These two characters are so socially stunted, they have to be assigned a relationship like it's homework."

They may not have it all figured out yet, but the fans see the design: Now that Ratio and Aventurine have each other, they're not alone anymore. I have never seen two characters better fit the "Is anyone going to match my freak?" meme only for the actual answer to be "Yes."

Ratio is "plays chess with himself" levels of loner weird? No problem--Aventurine is "Wanna take bets on who's going to die today?" weirder. Ratio wears a plaster bust to ward off idiots? Aventurine transforms into a monster on command, which is pretty much guaranteed to achieve the same effect.

Ratio wasn't chosen by Nous? That's fine, Aventurine's one job as a "chosen one" was to save his people and now they're all dead. Nobody can keep up with Ratio in conversation? Watch a single comment from Aventurine turn him into a fumbling mess on live television.

Ratio's inability to relate to the experiences and development of any peers his own age have left him extremely isolated and with a permanently scarred sense of self-worth? Wow, I wonder if Aventurine knows exactly what that feels like.

They just... fit.

And, changing focus a little here at the end: While I personally think that recovery from trauma requires internal motivation and self-kindness foremost, I also think that Ratio and Aventurine's relationship should be considered from the perspective of how they help to fill each other's gaps.

Unlike any connection at the Genius Society who will always evoke unpleasant memories of Nous's rejection, Aventurine isn't going to make Ratio feel intellectually inferior. Aventurine has nothing but good things to say about Ratio's intelligence, and it's even apparent that Ratio felt comfortable enough to at least mention his Genius Society woes to Aventurine, something he explicitly does not do with anyone else.

Even when it comes to social interactions, Aventurine isn't going to make Ratio feel inadequate, because honestly? Aventurine's almost as bad at them as Ratio. Aventurine is much better at faking it socially, but when it actually counts? When he's trying to be real with others? A solid 70% of the people who meet Aventurine still end up wanting to strangle him. The guy tried to apologize for threatening to detonate the Trailblazer like a bomb by buying them a model train...

Then there's this:

Aventurine is the only character explicitly called Ratio's equal in game, and more than just treating him respectfully as an equal, Aventurine also exhibits one extreme appeal that no one else in game has ever shown to Ratio: Aventurine makes Ratio feel needed. For Aventurine, Ratio is not a forgettable after-thought as he is to Herta and most of the other geniuses. He's not just "some weird guy who scolds me about school" like he is to the Trailblazer. Ratio's intellect and skill were integral to Aventurine's plan from step one to the very end. Ratio has a place in Aventurine's plots. For a character who directly assesses worth by how beneficial a person can be to others, the fact that Aventurine can make Ratio feel wanted and valued probably produced some of the strongest personal fulfillment Ratio has had in years.

On the opposite side, Ratio's in a unique position. Out of every relevant character in Aventurine's story, Ratio is the only one who has nothing to lose by choosing Kakavasha over "Aventurine." Ratio doesn't profit off Aventurine or take any expensive gifts from him, like the Trailblazer does. He doesn't need Aventurine's luck for anything at all. He'd be able to work for the IPC even if Aventurine wasn't in it. Ratio certainly doesn't want the glitz and glamour of a shallow gambling hustler persona. His work doesn't require Aventurine's continued involvement like Topaz's and Jade's does. He'd probably prefer not to know any Stonehearts at all, thank you for asking.

Outside of deliberate-acting insults about Sigonians for Sunday's sake, we're not told that Ratio has any connections to--and therefore has no preconceived biases against--Sigonians. Being a person who values self-determination and a refusal to live in mediocrity above all else, he would have nothing but esteem for how far Aventurine has managed to come despite the harsh circumstances of his life. Ratio probably wouldn't even think Aventurine's belief in Gaiathra is that strange; one of Ratio's doctorates is actually in theology.

Unlike literally everyone else in the universe who needs "Aventurine," we have every indication that Ratio's respect and admiration will only grow when he finally gets to meet "Kakavasha."

Loneliness, rejection, betrayal, a lack of understanding from others--all of these can leave wounds that only genuine, deep bonds with others can heal.

On death's doorway, in the darkest shadow, when Aventurine had to make the choice between passing on to be with the family that loved him and choosing to return to a reality without them... Ratio's letter was there, telling Aventurine the exact thing he needed to hear to choose life: Someone is waiting for you to come home.

If the resounding rejection of Star Rail's Nihility is belief in humanity's power to make meaning in our own lives through our connections to others, then the ultimate message of Ratio and Aventurine's arc in Penacony is that no one needs to be alone. The world is not as empty as you fear.

And that is a message that Ratio and Aventurine can learn best through each other.

(I just... love them so much...)

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charlottesbookclub · 6 months ago

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i'm here (ser gwayne hightower x reader) 💚💚

Summary: you have a nightmare, but gwayne is there to comfort you 💚

Warnings/Tags: spouse!reader; gn!reader; established relationship (marriage); nightmares; angst/anxiety brought on by the nightmares; absolutely catastrophic levels of tooth-rotting fluff; let me know if I've missed anything! ☺️

Words: 2870

Author’s Note: as I mentioned in this post, gwayne hightower has absolutely consumed my life and I am down sooooooo bad for him rn, so voilá, this fic has emerged as a result of that! 💕 as I also say in that linked post, I'm not super familiar with hotd, so I'm sorry if any of the terms I use aren't canon-accurate (I watched game of thrones a few years ago and I tried my best to make it feel authentic to the world of canon, but something may have slipped through 😅). and I hope this feels in-character to gwayne! I've rewatched the scenes of his that I have access to many times for...... uhh ~Research Purposes~ but I haven't seen all his scenes yet, so I apologize if it feels ooc at all – I did my best to make it feel like him! 🥰

oh and this is key: we've all seen the necklace, right?? we know about the necklace, right????? that fucking necklace makes me absolutely feral so I've given it a backstory, because it truly has me foaming at the fucking mouth 😌 (also, if you haven't seen the necklace, may I please direct you to this incredible gifset so we can descend into madness over it together?)

as always, I hope you enjoy!! 🥰🥰 (also please feel free to share any gwayne thoughts you have – I'd love to scream about the precious man with y'all! ☺️💕)

The memory was not yours, but in this moment, it felt like it was. Gwayne had only told you the story once, with hushed words and averted eyes. You had asked, and he could never find it in himself to keep anything from you, even if it made his chest seize with shame. He told you that the whole ordeal had been a result of foolishness on his part, something he would admit only to you. He said that he recalled the memory with great embarrassment now. But you felt nothing but terror.

You stood on a large, grassy plain ringed with trees, a few wispy clouds scuddling across the blue sky above you. This was a place you had never seen, never been – but one thing was familiar. As you struggled to gain your bearings in the strange location, you saw a group of men on horseback just a short distance ahead. You recognized your lord husband instantly: the delicate silver interlace of his steed’s armor and the auburn glow of his hair in the sunlight were as familiar to you as your own heartbeat.

You called out to him, but he didn’t respond; he seemed to be in conversation with one of the other men. You ran toward the small group and cried his name again, but even at close range he appeared not to hear you. Panic grew in your chest by the moment as you hurried closer still, coming near enough that you could almost reach out and touch Gwayne’s mount. You stretched out your hand to do just that when your arm was stopped by some invisible force. There was nothing in front of you, just empty air that you should have been able to move through with no difficulty. But you were trapped mere feet from your beloved, unable to reach him.

Something was terribly wrong. You screamed his name this time, desperation compressing your lungs with the force of your yell. But it was clear that he could not hear you, since neither he nor any of the gathered men so much as turned toward the sound of your cries. Real fear gripped you now, shooting ice through your veins as you cast about you for something – anything – that you could do. And that was when a new kind of fear crept over you, one so old and visceral you could feel it down to your very bones. Shudders wracked your body as you turned your eyes toward the sky, suddenly certain that you were being watched. But not just watched – no, you were being hunted.

At a loss for what else you could do, you renewed your efforts to alert Gwayne to the danger that you could feel but not yet see. You screamed until your voice was hoarse, but you were forced to watch in horror as Gwayne continued his conversation as though nothing was wrong, even flashing that charming smile that you knew and loved so well. It was just then that the other man finally noticed that something was wrong. He cast his eyes toward the sky as you had mere moments before, saying something to the gathered men. A wave of fear seemed to run through the horses, as there was a flurry of shifting hooves and nervous snorts. You could only watch in terror as realization washed over Gwayne’s face, twisting his handsome features into a terrifying expression of horror.

You screamed at him to run just as everything burst into motion, the horses tearing off across the plain toward the cover of the trees. You found yourself moving along with them, though you had no mount of your own. Instead, it was the same terrible invisible force, dragging you along, forcing you to watch as the scene unfolded before you.

And then you saw it: the dragon. It swooped down from the sky as though it had erupted into existence from nothing, filling the empty air with huge grey wings that seemed to blot out the sun. You screamed again, but this time without the intention of forming any coherent words – the noise that escaped your throat was an expression of the fear that was buried deep in your bones upon the sight of the creature. Its lean body shot across the plain toward the fleeing men with a kind of focus and intention that proved what you had thought from the beginning: the dragon was hunting. And worse than that, it was hunting Gwayne.

Voice rubbed raw from screaming, and realizing your cries to him did nothing anyway, you watched in terrible silence as his steed thundered across the ground, its legs eating up the distance as fast as it could. And yet the dragon gained. If this was some cruel trick played by the gods, you couldn’t think what you could possibly have done to deserve this kind of torment. You could do nothing but watch, utterly powerless, as Gwayne – your Gwayne – fled for his life, his beautiful face contorted into an expression of fear that cut you to the core like a knife to the stomach. You held your breath, fearing each moment would be the one when you were forced to watch your love be consumed by dragonfire, ending both his life and yours in one swift blow of unimaginable anguish and heartbreak from which you knew you would never recover. Just as you had resolved to try calling to him one last time – if nothing else, to assure him of your love – the treeline broke around you and the horses cantered to a stop beneath the cover of the forest.

The world was still again, but the fear lingered. You could sense the dragon above you, even hear its thin, unearthly cries as it searched for its hidden quarry. Your eyes instantly found Gwayne, needing to make sure he had survived the ordeal. Indeed, he still sat upon his steed, and you watched his chest heave as he attempted to steady his breathing. The fear that still permeated the forest remained etched on his face as well, changing his features from those of the man you had courted and married to those of a young boy, trembling and horror-struck and so helpless and small.

You longed with every fiber of your being to run up to him and pull him into your arms, to feel his warm breath on your neck as he folded into your embrace. You ached to hold his face in your hands and wipe away the single lingering tear he likely didn’t even know was still glistening on his cheek. You yearned to kiss the terror away from his brow and his nose and his lips, to tell him he was safe – to tell him that you were here.

But you were trapped just feet from him, all these longings locked into your body as you pressed toward him as far as the strange invisible barrier would allow. You watched as the fear slowly faded from his face, his features once again becoming warm and familiar. You couldn’t help but smile as he seemed to return to himself somewhat. Turning to one of his companions, he opened his mouth to say something when both of their eyes snapped up to the sky, reacting to some sound you must not have heard. You followed their gaze, and didn’t even have a chance to scream as a column of fire descended from above, ready to devour you all.

You woke with a gasp. Your heart was pounding loudly enough that you could hear it in your ears, and you pushed yourself up into a sitting position as you struggled to calm your ragged breathing. The darkness in the room was soft, and your eyes adjusted slowly to your surroundings, only to find them all comforting and familiar – this was your room, your home. Instantly, you turned to your side, and let out a small sigh of relief when you saw Gwayne sleeping peacefully next to you. He was here, he was home, he was safe – you both were.

When your breathing had calmed back to a normal rate, you eased yourself back down under the covers, burrowing into his arms as he sleepily adjusted his position to accommodate you.

“Hmmm—is everything… alright?” he muttered, blinking his eyes open.

“Everything’s fine,” you assured him, “I just had a nightmare.”

He seemed to waken a little more at your words, propping himself up slightly on one arm as he reached the other hand out to stroke your cheek.

“Are you alright? Do you want to talk about it?” his voice was still thick with sleep, but you knew the questions were genuine.

“It was about you,” you reached up to cup his hand that still rested on your cheek, intertwining his fingers with yours. “And the dragon,” you added, your words barely above a whisper. Hearing his sharp intake of breath, you were certain he was reliving the memory himself, and instantly regretted your words.

“But it was nothing,” you hurried to assure him, “I just—I just wish I had been there. Or that I could have helped or—” you were distinctly aware that your jumbled words made very little sense, even to you. “I just felt so helpless,” you ended with a sigh. Gwayne watched you with soft eyes, his fingers squeezing yours in reassurance.

“You were there, though,” he responded, smiling gently, “and you did help.” You just stared at him incredulously, wondering if he was the one who was dreaming now. He read the question in your eyes with a small chuckle and disentangled his hand from yours, pushing himself up to sit.

Pressing a hand to his chest, his fingers found the chain of the necklace that he always wore. The charm was a delicate circle of beaten metal hanging from a simple coppery chain. You had bought it in the market one day when the two of you were still courting. The rich auburn sheen of the metal had reminded you of Gwayne’s hair, and you were determined to have it. The seller assured you that the little ring symbolized unending love and devotion – a never-ending cycle, an unbroken vow. You were doubtful that had been the original intention of the maker, but rather a ploy on the seller’s part to drive up the price after he realized you intended it as a gift for your beloved. Had it been that obvious how love-struck you were?

Regardless of whether it was intended or not, you liked the idea of the simple circle as a token of promise and loyalty, as well as a celebration of one of Gwayne’s most striking features. You had given it to him wrapped in a carefully-embroidered handkerchief when he had gallantly asked for your favor before a tourney. You cherished the memory of him asking you to help him put it on, and the fleeting touch of his skin and flaming hair you were able to steal as you clasped it around his neck. He won the tourney, and insisted that his victory was due at least in part to the precious charm you had given him, imbued with your affection and devotion. To your knowledge, he had never taken it off since.

Now, in the dim light of your shared chambers, he held the little ring out for you to see. It was slightly more battered now than it had been, and though its original shine was gone, it still seemed to glow with a warm coppery light. Reaching out, you took the small circle in your fingers, feeling all the tiny knicks and ridges it had acquired over time, each one of them proof of Gwayne’s promise to always return to you – an unbroken vow.

“See, you’re always with me, right here,” he gestured to the charm in your fingers. The feeling of the metal against your skin and the sweet memories that swirled through your mind caused tears to prick at the corners of your eyes, chasing away the lingering cobwebs of fear that the nightmare had spun. Gently, you released the ring and Gwayne’s fingers replaced yours on the circle, guiding it back to where it always sat on his chest, just above his heart. He pressed it there, emphasizing his words: “right here, right where you always have been – and always will be.”

Ducking your head away, you tried to hide the tears that were now threatening to slide down your cheeks as his words. But before you could wipe them on the sheets, Gwayne’s hand caught your chin, gently pulling him back to you, the rough pad of his thumb banishing the tears from your face. His eyes sparkled with affection and mirth, and you found yourself unable to stop yourself from echoing his smile.

“Hmmm… it’s more serious than I thought,” he said with mock-concern, tilting your face as though he was examining it, “you appear to be desperately and madly in love with me – a very serious condition indeed.”

You couldn’t help the laugh that spilled out of your mouth as you nudged him playfully, causing him to break into bright chuckles of his own. Your chest, which just moments ago had been compressed with terror, was now so full of love and happiness you were certain it might burst.

“And tell me, Ser Gwayne, what is the cure for this most dire of conditions?” you matched his tone of feigned worry as your laughter subsided.

“Hmmm,” he rubbed his chin thoughtfully, unable to hide the dimples forming on his cheeks, proof of his barely-suppressed smile, “perhaps marriage? I have heard many esteemed lords claim that the institution of matrimony is bound to cure an ailment such as yours.”

“Oh, but I fear I’ve tried that,” you exclaimed, “and it has only made my condition worse.”

“Then this is indeed one of the most serious cases I’ve ever seen.” He pondered for a moment, then his eyes lit up: “There is one more cure, but it’s risky. You could try true love’s kiss. One does read about those sorts of things working miracles after all.”

“What’s the risk?”

“The risk is that the kiss renders your condition utterly uncurable by any other means.” Gwayne’s lips tilted up into your favorite lopsided smile as he grinned at you, dimples glowing like twin suns, sending the delicate freckles on his face colliding into each other like falling stars.

“That’s a risk I’m more than willing to take,” you breathed as he reached out to cup your face and bring it close to his. You closed your eyes as your lips met in a burst of warm sunlight that seemed to fill your whole body with its radiance. You weren’t sure how long you remained pressed against him, feeling his heartbeat against your skin, his auburn locks twisted in your fingers, his necklace hanging between your entwined forms.

“Did it work?” he whispered when he finally pulled away, his forehead still resting against yours.

“No,” you responded happily, your fingers once again finding the thin metal of the little circular charm, “I fear I’m even more madly and desperately in love with you than before.” You met his eyes, finding them bright and soft and just as madly and desperately in love as you were certain yours were.

“Well, I like to think of myself as chivalrous, but I don’t think I can find it in myself to regret your condition,” he whispered, a teasing smile on his face as he reached a hand up to run his fingers through your hair.

“Nor can I,” you whispered back, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek.

He pulled you fully into his grasp then, maneuvering you both back under the covers without relinquishing his hold on you. You rested on his chest, head tucked under his chin as he wrapped both arms around you. Your fingers found his necklace, and you clasped it in your hand. He echoed your motion until both of your hands were intertwined around the metal circle, resting just above his heart. You could feel it beating against your skin, and you snuggled yourself even closer to him.

“This is what I imagine,” Gwayne said softly to the darkness, “when I’m on the road without you, and all I have is this small charm to remind me of what it feels like to rest in your embrace. This is what I dream of.” He pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead and squeezed your hand where it entwined with his on the necklace. “You’re always right here.”

“I’m always right here,” you echo, your words a promise, a vow.

“But thank the gods I don’t have to imagine right now,” you felt his words as his lips moved against your forehead, “because I am right here.” Gwayne wrapped his arms even more tightly around you, and you gladly tucked yourself further into his warm embrace. You felt yourself drifting back into a pleasant sleep in the comfort and safety of his arms. You heard his words echo softly in the gentle quiet of the room:

“I’m right here.”

#charlotte writes #ser gwayne hightower #gwayne hightower #gwayne hightower x reader #ser gwayne hightower x reader #gwayne hightower fanfic #gwayne hightower fanfiction #gwayne hightower imagine

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annievrse · 26 days ago

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It Only Feels This Raw Right Now / Act II

Trafalgar Law x Fem!Reader Summary: When your captain, Luffy, tells you to run from Bartholomew Kuma on the Sabaody Archipelago instead of fighting, you end up on a submarine. Takes place during the time skip. W/C: 18.3k C/W: Fic structure: Sabaody Archipelago → Dressrosa spoilers, canon timeline but majority canon-divergent events, she/her pronouns, no use of y/n. Content: descriptions of injuries, blood, passing out, guns + getting shot.

Labyrinth Series Masterlist

— Scene 1 —

In the two months that followed, you learned to draw maps. It wasn’t that you were disappointed; working with Bepo was fun, but when Luffy said Law would be training you, you expected more.

Luffy had gone through with the plan he vaguely mentioned to you, and seeing him in the newspaper with 3D2Y on his arm made you queasy—he neglected to tell you the part where he went back to Marineford—but you were so insanely proud of him. Since then, you’d heard nothing about him or your crew mates. However, you kept the newspaper folded in your room like your own personal treasure, along with a wanted poster of Law you found in the streets of Sabaody.

After Amazon Lily, the Heart Pirates returned to Sabaody for a few days to prepare for a journey to another island. You refrained from visiting the Sunny—Law warned you that there’d be heavy Marine presence around it, so you kept away from your beloved ship. It wasn’t until you were walking back to the Polar Tang that you saw Law’s poster and thought the photo they used for it was hilarious. It brought back some of the humour you’d been missing from Usopp and Luffy.

You giggle to yourself.

“What’s funny?” Bepo asks, his paw paused over the map he is currently working on. “Please don’t tell me you’re laughing at this.”

“No! No, Bepo,” You laugh. “No, I’m just thinking about something else.”

“You better be,” He says, dropping the brush on the table. “I’m done.”

You peer over at the map. A large pawprint smudges the edge of the page, and the handwriting is a little scribbly, but his measurements are accurate, and you nod. “Perfect.”

Nami’s face flashes through your mind, and instead of feeling upset, like you have been, you smile. “Add the cardinal points to the top corner.”

“Oh!” Bepo blushes, picking up the paintbrush. “Thanks.”

“You done?”

You turn, seeing Law in the doorway of the boiler room. He raises an eyebrow when neither of you answer.

“Yep,” Bepo holds up the still-drying map. “Look, captain.”

“It’s a blob,” Law criticises, squinting at it.

“It’s Amazon Lily.”

Law shrugs. “I guess that’s as good as it’ll get, yes?”

Bepo nods, glancing at you nervously.

“Considering you’re not allowed on the island, I think it's decent,” You say, smiling at Law.

He doesn’t give you the same reaction. “I need you in the infirmary.”

You shoot Bepo a glance, and he nods in encouragement. “I’ll be fine.”

Wiping your hands on your pants, you follow him out and up the stairs. The submarine is on its way to a new island in Paradise, and the engine muffles any voices on other floors.

“What’s wrong?”

Law doesn’t turn to talk to you. “I want to try something.”

His words make your stomach drop. Try something?

You’re almost jogging to keep up with his long strides. “Okay, well, can I know now?”

He sighs, giving you a sidelong glance. You smile widely at him, trying to persuade him, and Law knows he’ll give in. He always does.

“I want to try your sewing technique on someone.”

“Like an injury?”

Law nods. “Shachi slipped and split his eyebrow open on the kitchen counter, and I figured it was about time you showed me how you do it. I have yet to see your powers used for that instead of strangling me.”

Your hand brushes your side where your wound was. It took a while, but the gash Kuma gave you has healed nicely. All that’s left is a level scar.

Scoffing, you bump his bicep with your shoulder. “Dick.”

Law exhales sharply, a humourless laugh that makes you grin with satisfaction.

“At least I didn’t take your heart. That was fucked up.”

Law shrugs lazily, taking a sharp left into the infirmary. “I said I was sorry.”

“You said what?” Shachi exclaims, his eyes wide. There’s a white bandage wrapped around his head, protruding above his left eye where a thicker gauze sits. “I’ve never heard you say sorry, Cap.”

“First time for everything, Shachi.” Law mumbles, pulling on white latex gloves. He approaches his crew member and removes the bandage.

You stand to the side, watching with interest as the injury is revealed. It’s a nasty cut, and you cringe when Shachi merely blinks.

“Not as bad as it looks,” He says when he sees you scrunch your face up. “Doesn’t hurt.”

You nod, not believing him.

“She’s going to stitch you up,” Law comments, gesturing to you. “That okay?”

Shachi tries to raise his other eyebrow, but to no avail. “That’s fine. Just don’t stab my eye out.”

“I won’t,” You say, walking up to him. Law stands back, eyeing how you position your hands over Shachi’s face. “Ready?”

He nods, wiping his palms on his boiler suit. “Go for it.”

“Sew.”

Concentrating, you aim for the first stitch at the end of the cut, your power taking over the rest of the way. It’s easy like this when you have a set path to follow. You glance at Law, who watches you work attentively. His dark eyebrows are furrowed, and you wonder what he’s thinking.

“I have done this on someone before,” You say. “When Zoro went up against Mihawk, I had to stitch his torso back together.”

“Zoro…” Shachi eyes widen. “As in Roronoa Zoro?”

“Yes, dumbass. How’d that go?”

You shrug. “Procedure was fine.”

Law hums, and you know he knows you’re keeping the aftermath quiet.

It takes no time for you to finish the stitches, and with a flick of your finger, the open cut has been reduced to a single line, small sutures tied every four millimetres. It’s clean, and you smile at your handiwork.

“Done,” You exhale, your hands trembling with energy. “Are you okay?”

Shachi beams up at you. “That didn’t hurt one bit. Are you a witch or something?”

You laugh, balling your hands into fists at your sides. Law’s attention has moved to your hands, and you move to hide them.

“Shachi, get out of here,” Law demands, his gaze focused on you.

“Yes, captain.”

You stand idly, anxiety brewing in your stomach as the door clicks shut.

“You okay?”

You consider him for a moment. His timbre is far more concerned than you expected, and you nod.

He squints at you with suspicion. “You’re not. Your hands are still clenched.”

You release them immediately, dried blood smeared on your palms. “It’s nothing.”

“It’s not nothing,” He says. “You need to release your power.”

Shrugging, you sigh and bring your hands up. “I don’t know why it happens.”

Law swallows thickly, studying your palms. “Is that what happened with Zoro?”

You knew he was going to ask. “It was killing me.”

He nods, mulling something over. “We’re docking at the next island.”

“What? Why?”

“You need to get rid of that energy. Otherwise, it’ll keep building up, and you’ll pass out like you did on Amazon Lily, or worse.”

You think back—you did use your power to prevent the rocks from falling on both you and Luffy, and there was a copious amount of blood on your hands when you ran back. The blood. When you finished Zoro’s surgery, the blood on your hands was terrifying, yet you hadn’t touched Zoro at all. The blood.

“You think the blood on my hands comes from me?”

“There’s a possibility,” Law nods. “We’d need to see your power in full force. But I think you’re power is so immense that when you use it in small doses, like stitching someone up, the built-up power that you don’t use has nowhere to go, so it pricks your skin so much that you bleed.”

The words come out of your mouth before you can stop them. “You’re brilliant.”

Law clears his throat. “I just did more study on Paramica fruits. It’s nothing.”

You feel your heart skip a beat. “But, you did more study because you noticed the blood on my hands. I would’ve never thought it’d be about the power I don’t use.”

“It’s my job.”

“You’re stupidly smart, Law,” You laugh, stepping toward the door. “Just take the compliment.”

Law sighs and turns his back to you. He busies himself with attempting to rearrange the shiny equipment trolley. There’s nothing on it.

“See you at dinner?” You call from just outside the doorway, a smirk playing on your lips. It’s fun to embarrass him, though he’d never admit it as such. Trafalgar Law doesn’t get embarrassed.

Law nods before he realises you can’t see him. God, you make him foolish. “Unfortunately.”

— Scene 2 —

“We’re docking!”

“Everybody off. This place reeks.”

The first breath of fresh air after being in the submarine for five days is something you’ll never get used to. You took such a thing for granted on the Sunny, smelling the fresh salty air daily. Now, you treasure it.

The Heart Pirates file off the sub, passing you as they do.

“Where are we?” Penguin asks, coming up behind you to stand beside you.

You shrug. “No idea. I’ve never been in this part of the Grand Line before.”

As far as you can see, it's barren. There’s a cluster of trees in the distance, all tall and menacing, and you can’t help the sense of dread that creeps in.

“I have to make a map.” You and Penguin turn to see Bepo holding a scroll of parchment and a pot of black paint.

“Yeah, have fun with that,” Penguin mumbles, leaving the two of you.

“You want to come with me?” Bepo asks.

“She can’t.”

Bepo visibly deflates. “Captain, you’re gonna make me go on my lonesome? With nobody? What if I fall down a ravine and break my leg?”

“You’ll be fine, Bepo. Now, go.”

“Yes, captain,” He says solemnly, trudging toward the plank.

“I’m happy to go with him, you know.”

Law clicks his tongue. “You’re coming with me. We need to train.”

“Train? Where?” You have a feeling you know the answer.

“There.” He gestures with his chin to the forest.

You sigh harshly and begin walking. “Come on, then. It’ll take a while to get there.”

Law quirks his eyebrow at you.

“What?” You cross your arms over your chest.

“This’ll be tough, okay?” He says lowly. “I need to understand why your power makes your hands bleed. Then, we can work from there.”

“You don’t have to do this,” Law continues like he can sense your unease, “But—”

You grimace. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

You nod and wave him over. “Yes, it’s fine. Now, let’s go, I’ve been waiting to kick your ass all week.”

“I won’t go easy on you, sweetheart,” Law steps on the plank behind you.

You hum, jumping onto the grass. “I don’t expect you to. Besides, my bounty isn’t high for no reason.”

Law pokes the inside of his cheek with his tongue. “Guess we’ll see, yeah?”

“Lead the way, Captain.”

—

“Is this necessary?”

Law ignores you and continues using shambles to transport various logs and rocks into the clearing you found. The trees are taller than you thought, and you tilt your head to see the canopy.

You understand why he’s doing it, moving obstacles into the area, but for your first time sparring with him, you figured it was a little overkill.

It's silent, except for the leaves rustling in the breeze and insects humming. You've noticed that no birds inhabit the island, making the forest eerie and your hair stand on end.

You turn, feeling like someone’s watching you, before Law reappears, making a beeline for you.

He pulls the hat off his head and tosses it to the side. “Ready?”

You blink, spinning to face him. “Now?”

You ignored the layout of the obstacles.

“Your opponent would’ve attacked you already,” Law deadpans, lifting his hand. “Room.”

You squeak in surprise, leaping back when the blue dome approaches you. “Hey! I have fought before, you know. I know how it works.”

Collecting your thoughts, you throw your hands up, almost tripping on a stray branch. You watch Law across the area; his gaze burns you, and you shiver.

“Sew.”

Threads materialise before you, and you aim for Law’s arms, deflating when he cuts them away easily with his katana.

“You’re gonna need to do a lot better than that.”

You clench your jaw. Oh, so he’s cocky. “Sew.”

“Shambles.”

And then he disappears, a branch hanging in the air and dropping to the ground where he once was. With your head on a swivel, you try to place him. Your threads vanish when they have nowhere to go, and you listen for him.

“Too slow…”

You freeze at the feeling of cool metal across your throat.

“That’s not fair,” You whisper, inhaling sharply and keeping your chest still. You didn’t even hear him.

“How would you get out of this?” He asks, breath hot on your ear. His forearm is firm around your stomach, and his chest is pressed against your back.

You roll your eyes as you slowly weave threads around Law’s ankles. He doesn't make it easy for you, especially with his body flush on yours. Sighing, you lean your head back on his shoulder. You don’t realise just how close Law is until you feel his lips brush the shell of your ear. The sensation sends shivers down your spine.

Law makes a sound of surprise. “What are you doing?”

You use his shock to your advantage, grabbing his right wrist with your left and pulling down. His katana falls forward, and you use needles to pierce his skin with minuscule pricks until he retracts the arm around your torso.

He lets out a grunt of discomfort as you lunge forward, pushing his stomach with your hand. You glance back to see Law fall backwards, the threads around his ankles doing their job. A large needle takes shape in your fist, and you lean over him, the tip against his jugular. Your legs are on either side of his hips, and your free hand is on his chest.

Law smirks, his breathing ragged and eyes dark as he watches you. “Good.”

You lean back, the needle dissipating. “I—”

And then you’re on the ground, looking up at where you just sat, where Law sits on top of you.

You feel your face heat up.

“Never let your guard down,” He says, pinning your arms above your head. “Dead.”

You wiggle your wrists to avert his attention from your bashful expression. “Get off.”

His grip only tightens. “Fight.”

You smirk, noticing his eyes widen when he feels a sharp point at his back. You hold a large needle, the tip scratching his spine. If this were a real-life situation, the needle as thick as a branch would be through his chest. So, you aim your threads at the trees behind Law, tying them to two thick trunks.

“Well, sweetheart?” His voice is low. “What’re you gonna do besides threaten me with an oversized needle?”

“Sew.”

The threads fly toward him, wrap under his armpits and over his shoulders, and pull. Law flies back. Before he hits the tree, he appears next to it, a twig breaking to pieces against the trunk instead.

“Shambles.”

Trusting your instincts, you know he will swap you with the rock in front of him. Lifting your fist, your body is doused with tingles, and then you’re throwing your arm, your fist connecting with his jaw. His head snaps to the side.

“Fuck,” Law spits blood onto the dirt.

You bounce back on your toes. “Not so tough now, huh, big boy?”

Law meets your glare with his own, and you feel the tendrils of your power purring against your skin. The sun pours through the canopy, the shadows dancing under your feet. You choose to use them to your advantage.

Threads snake along the forest floor, and you keep your eyes on Law to distract him. He pants, his hair sticking to his forehead with sweat, and you’re sure you look the same. You stand there, staring at each other, your threads slinking around him. Law’s tongue darts out to catch the blood on his lip before it drips onto his shirt, and he smiles, blood painting his teeth. The sight is unholy, and a shiver goes down your spine.

“Well?”

You continue to say nothing, your eyes trailing down his face to his lips and then further. Law stands there as you blatantly check him out. You never quite realised how tall he is; being in a cramped submarine makes everyone look tall, and maybe it's his terrible posture, too, because when you look at him now, he’s menacing.

You want to climb him like a tree.

You shake your head, remembering where you are. “Sew.”

And then your threads wrap around his body, tightening. You approach him slowly, like a predator with its prey.

“If you wanted to tie me up so bad, you should’ve just asked.”

His comment has you gaping, and then he’s gone, swapping himself with another rock. You sigh and turn around, ducking before he can knock you over.

Your palm shoots out, knocking him in the sternum. Law gasps and grabs your wrist, flipping your body so your chest is against a tree trunk. He stands flush against you. You pant with exhaustion, sweat dripping down the side of your face.

“Go again,” Law growls, stepping back and letting you off the tree. “Room.”

Your face hardens, and you run to put distance between you. “Needles.”

Giant metal needles materialise before you, pointing directly at Law. You see his eyes widen slightly at their speed, but once your needles enter his room, he cuts them down like they’re cooked noodles.

“Again.”

“Fuck you.”

Law’s eyebrow quirks up, a cocky smirk making your skin burn. “Again.”

“Needles.”

“Room.”

A familiar blue dome approaches, and you throw everything you can at him, but he’s quick. Law dodges and weaves through your attacks, slicing through all threads and slashing all needles you send him.

You want to scream with frustration. Law retracts his room, opening his mouth to call out something. But blood slides down your forearms, and something snaps inside you.

You know what’s happening, but you won’t stop it. You won’t use your full potential. Your grip on your ability slips, and your available power runs out, making the needles spin in the air and aim for Law.

“No,” You whisper, trying to pull the needles away from him with the fumes of power you have left in your reserve, but it’s not enough.

Law readies his katana, swiping at the needles as they race towards him like missiles. Usually, you’d see objects fly in different directions after being sliced by him. But, like he didn’t even brush them, the needles continue their path toward Law, and he pauses. “Shambles.”

“Law!” You scream, watching him stumble to the forest floor in a different spot completely.

Sprinting over to him, you put your hands on his chest. That’s when you notice the blood on your hands, and you run your hands over his torso to check for injuries.

“Law?” You murmur, seeing his eyes squeezed shut. “Law.”

“You shouldn’t care for your opponent,” He groans and sits up, his hand rubbing his sternum. “But that was strong. Good.”

Shaking your head, you ignore his stupid comment, your bloody palm over your mouth. “I hurt you.”

“I’m fine.”

“You fell.”

“That was from shambles. Lost my balance.”

You stand on shaky legs. “What if I hit you?”

“You didn’t,” Law follows you up, noticing the blood on your hands. His breath catches in his throat, and he double-checks his body. He’s uninjured.

Law is behind you when you turn, circling to stand before you. “Look at me.”

He speaks your name lowly.

“Look at me,” He repeats, tone coaxing.

You can’t, eyes focused on the blood dripping from your fingers. His hand brushes your cheek, and then his fingers are on your chin, tilting your face to his.

“I’m fine, see,” Law pulls away from you, lifting his arms out to the sides. “You didn’t hurt me.”

“But, the blood,” You say, bringing your hands closer to your face. “There’s so much of it.”

Law closes his palms around your fingers, the blood smearing. “I’m okay, sweetheart, and so are you. We just need to work on using all of your available power, that’s all.”

You look into his eyes, the steel grey of them comforting. A shadow of a smile finds its way to his cheeks, and you exhale shakily.

You won’t be using your full power in front of him.

“You promise?”

Law nods, squeezing your hands tighter. “Promise.”

You breathe in and out, focusing on trying to stop the tears from collecting on your waterline.

Law lowers your hands, releasing them before he steps back and clears his throat, his usual hard exterior like a mask. “Do you want to go back to the sub?”

You shake your head, trying to rub your palms on your pants. “I just want to stay here a bit longer. Don’t want anyone to see me like this.”

“Like what?”

“Like I’m out of control.”

Law sucks his bottom lip into his mouth. He’s thinking, you know that much. And the more you look at him, the more injuries you see. There’s a nasty bruise forming on the side of his jaw where you punched him, as well as dried blood on the corner of his lips, and there’s a little rope burn on the side of his neck. You don’t want to know what you look like.

“C’mon,” Law says, turning and walking away from you.

“Where’re we going?”

“I think there’s a creek down here,” He nods in the direction he’s walking. “We’ll get the blood off you.”

You nod but don’t say anything. Law glances over his shoulder.

“Is that okay?”

“Oh,” You look up. “Yeah, that’s fine.”

Law stops to wait for you to catch up. When you do, he leans his head down. “You were holding back.”

Your shoulders tense. “Why do you say that?”

Law snorts. “Look at how much blood’s on your hands. It’s like a massacre.”

“I didn’t want to hurt you,” You shrug. “Is that a problem?”

“I can handle myself.”

You finally hear the creek he was talking about and ignore him. You haven’t heard the running water in a while despite being underwater. There’s something comforting about gurgling water flowing over rocks.

“Next time we spar,” Law keeps his voice low. “I want to see why your bounty’s so high, okay? Because right now, you’re at 70 million berries.”

You open your mouth to defend yourself, but he continues.

“There’s clearly more to your power than just throwing around needles and thread. I want to see it.”

You let out a shaky breath. “My body will need to rest before I can do that.”

Law nods curtly. “And I respect that. Just don’t go easy on me next time.”

You look at him to see a smirk playing on his lips. Scoffing, you bump him with your shoulder.

The creek comes into view, and you rush to it, dipping your hands in the freezing water to clean your hands. As you scrub, Law sits beside you.

The urge to tell him everything eats at you. You shouldn’t, you really shouldn’t tell him. He’s a rival pirate. But when you give him a sidelong glance and see the content glint in his eye, you break. You hope you don’t regret it.

“I don’t use my true power,” You mumble, hoping he can’t hear you.

Law blinks but leans toward you. You kick yourself when you realise he does. “Why?”

“I’m scared of it.”

He doesn’t say anything, letting you continue.

“My bounty’s so high and has been for years because of the few times I used it.”

“And you’d never use it again?”

You ponder his question. “If the situation calls for it, then I would. But with Luffy, I never have to. We always find a way out of things.”

Law tilts his head, and you can tell there’s something he wants to ask.

“Just say it,” You wave your hand. You’re sure you know what he’s going to ask anyway, so you may as well get it over with.

“Can you use it on me?”

You still. That was not what you were expecting.

“The Sew-Sew Fruit,” Law sits up straighter. “If what I’ve gathered from the abilities you’ve shown me and my research, I can guess that your true power is a mindscape where you can cut objects, people, from this world and sew them into your own. A sort of alternate reality.”

You curse his brilliant mind. “Maybe you’re too smart for your own good.”

“Am I right?”

You keep washing your hands to busy yourself. “I don’t take entire people, only their souls. Why would you want me to use it on you?”

“So I can help you.”

Something tugs on your subconscious, and you try your best to pinpoint it. “Are you crazy?”

“Maybe.” Law puts his hands on your wrists, stopping your rough scrubbing—your hands are clean.

His fingers are rough against yours, and you try your best to think of another topic because you sure as hell aren’t thinking about your power right now.

“What do your tattoos mean?”

Law looks at you surprised. He’s silent momentarily, swallowing thickly before pulling his hands away from yours and running his fingers over his knuckles. You can tell he doesn’t talk about himself much because he mulls over the words he wants to say in his mouth before he does.

“These remind me of what’s at stake when treating patients. Helps keep me calm.”

You stare at the letters, reflecting on what Shakuyaku told you when you were on Sabaody. Trafalgar Law, the Surgeon of Death.

When he doesn’t go on about the others, you don’t ask.

“Cool,” You say, picking a loose thread on your pants.

Law hums, watching your fingers fidget.

You wipe your hands dry on your t-shirt. “Anyway, why do you want me to use Seam on you?”

“Seam,” Law mutters. “Straw Hat said you need to become stronger. I told him I’d help, so I will with the only way I know how.”

“Which is?”

“A hands-on approach.”

You scratch your hairline in an attempt to hide from him. It’s true what Luffy told him because he also told you and your crew. Get stronger.

You cough. “What do you get out of this?”

“Now you’re thinking like a pirate,” Law teases before he shrugs. “Nothing but the satisfaction of helping a friend.”

Friend.

Your stomach churns with discomfort, and you’re unsure why the word burns you so much. It sounds foreign on Law’s tongue. But despite his joking manner, the words he spoke when you first met scolds you from the inside out.

“But I’m just useful to you, right?” You poke your finger into his chest. “What did you call me? Leverage?”

Law sighs, running his hand through his hair. “That was before. It’s different now.”

“Before what?” You ask, standing from the bed of the creek. Law follows, and he towers over you. He swallows, and you can tell he’s deciding whether to tell you. His cheeks go ruddy, and you squint at him in confusion.

“It’s not important.”

“Law.”

It’s hurting him to say it.

“Before—”

“Captain! Quick!”

Law’s head snaps to the side, concern changing his features. You watch him, mind racing at what he could possibly mean about before.

“Bepo?” Law yells. “What’s wrong?”

“We gotta go!” The bear calls from the forest. “The island’s full of giant lizards, and they’re attacking us!”

Law looks unamused but moves anyway, running in the direction of Bepo’s voice and leaving you next to the water.

You stare at the place he just was, your chest tight. You wipe your nose and return to the sub, watching for the giant lizards Bepo warned you about.

—

It turns out that giant lizards were the codename for Ikkaku’s return. You haven’t bothered to ask why, but you're more anxious about meeting the woman responsible for the maintenance of the submarine.

In the distance, Law stands beside the Polar Tang, his hand on his forehead to shade his eyes from the sun's harsh glare. Above him, a large seagull descends, and on the back of it, a woman.

When you make it to the sub, the bird is gone, and all that remains is Ikkaku. Her dark curly hair is covered with a yellow and orange striped beanie, and she still dons the white Heart Pirates boiler suit. She speaks animately to Penguin as you look around for Law. He must’ve returned to the submarine when you put your head down to watch for sparse rocks.

Penguin calls your name, and you smile. “Hi!”

Ikkaku eyes you up and down, her expression sour. “A Straw Hat, huh? I don’t know what you’re still doing here, but Captain is more than capable of handling whatever it is alone.”

You come up short, watching as she bumps Penguin’s shoulder and walks away. You purse your lips, emotion lodged in your throat. The moment is over before it even begins, and there’s a surge of awkward tension in the air. Penguin clears his throat.

“You didn’t do anything,” He reassures, his hat-shrouded eyes darkening. “Ikkaku doesn't trust you guys. A-And by you guys, I mean the Straw Hats. Her, Uni, and Clione have a thing... I’m sure they'll get over it.”

You hum and pretend the words don’t hurt you the way they do. Shrugging, you fake a laugh. “It’s fine. I’m used to it. I wouldn't trust me either.”

He calls your name as you leave, not sparing a glance in the direction of the group that whispers as you pass by.

Bepo stands idly on the deck, twisting the map in his paws. You raise an eyebrow when he gives you a pitiful look.

"I don't need sympathy, Bepo."

He squeaks and almost rips the paper. "No, no sympathy here."

You give him a tight-lipped smile and pat his arm.

"I'm sorry," He murmurs, hanging his head.

"Wanna go inside?"

Bepo nods and turns, shuffling his feet to the door. His movements make a laugh tumble from your lips, and when he hears, Bepo's eyes are full of hope.

You reluctantly smile and shove him, though it does nothing to sway the tall mink.

"At least you've got me," Bepo says. "I know I'm not much, but—"

"Quit the self-deprecating jokes, Bepo," Shachi coughs from behind you. Penguin stands beside him and laughs. You can tell they're trying to lighten your mood.

You won't admit it, but it works.

"Yeah, you're gonna make the Tang flood with your pathetic tears," Penguin quips, brushing past you and down the stairs to the common area.

Bepo's jaw goes slack, and he pauses mid-step. "I'm sorry."

Chatter from the rest of the crew fills the stairwell, and you grab Bepo's paw to drag him down.

"Don't listen to them," You say, side-eyeing Penguin and Shachi when you pass them on the way to the couch. "They're just jealous that I like you more than them."

"Woah! Rude!"

"That's too far and NOT true!"

Bepo sticks out his tongue, and his two best friends pout.

You shake your head at their antics and wonder how you got so lucky to end up with them as your friends—you'd never say it out loud, but they fill the Straw Hat crew-sized void inside you.

— Scene 3 —

He’s watching you.

If it were anyone else, it’d be unsettling. But Law’s steely grey eyes, usually reserved and cold, turn different when they’re on you. At least, that’s what you tell yourself.

It’s a night off that hasn’t happened while you’ve been aboard, but Penguin and Shachi tell you they're the best nights of the year, and who are you to be doubtful?

So, you are sitting on a couch in the common area, half-focused on the poker game before you. You’re not playing; instead, you choose to observe Bepo struggling to keep the cards in his paws and Shachi sneaking peeks at the ones that slip. A glass of who knows what, courtesy of Penguin, sits between your fingers, but you don’t drink any more of it—he’s very heavy-handed.

Across the room, Law sits on a stray dining chair, his legs spread. He also has a near-full glass, holding it between his open knees as he leans his forearms on his thighs. His hat is lopsided on his head, and his katana is propped against the wall beside him. Jean-Bart talks animately, but you know Law isn’t listening. He’s focused on you, after all.

He asked if you could use Seam on him a week and a half ago, and since then, he’s kept to himself. It’s annoying you.

Your eyes flicker to his, and he doesn’t react. You raise an eyebrow at him, to which he mirrors. Law’s expression remains cold, and you tilt your head in a silent question. You hope he understands you.

Law looks away, and you deflate.

“You want to take my place?” Shachi asks, throwing his cards on the table as his crewmates laugh. Uni, Clione, and Ikkaku remain silent, and you shake your head, disappointed.

“I think I’ll go to bed.”

Penguin boos you from the other side of the table, and Bepo pouts. “You can’t!”

“Sorry, boys,” You force a laugh, setting your glass on the side table beside the couch. “Have fun.”

They all groan and make excuses why you can’t leave while you walk from the room. The stairwell is silent, and you take the stairs quickly. You risk a glance over your shoulder as you rush to your room.

The thought of finally having another woman on board used to make you excited; you were so keen to make another friend, but now it makes you bitter. It seems your reputation precedes you and not in the way you wish. From her comment last week, you guess Ikkaku thinks you’re using Law, but she could be further from the truth. You’ve grown fond of the man, and if you’re reading the signals right, he, you.

An almost inaudible zip and boots clicking behind you make your heart skip; you’re certain Law used Shambles to follow you.

“Yes?”

Law doesn’t speak. Instead, there’s another zip right next to you and another, and then you stumble into his office.

“Why,” You hunch over, panting, “would you do that?”

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“Don’t lie to me.”

You sigh. “Give me a minute.”

Law makes a sound of indignation. “You were fine when we were sparring.”

“I hadn’t been drinking then,” You say, stretching back up.

He looks at you unimpressed. “Are you done?”

You level him with a glare, and when you don’t respond, Law circles his desk.

“What’s wrong?”

“Ikkaku doesn’t like me.”

Law hums and runs his tongue over his teeth. “Yeah, she’s made her dislike known.”

You put your hands out. “What do I do? I’m not staying here if I drive a wedge between you and your crew…”

“You’re staying. I want you here. They can deal with it.”

The underlying desperation in his tone catches you off guard, and you open your mouth to respond when he cuts you off with a different topic entirely.

“When will you be ready to use Seam?”

“Huh?” You blink.

“Will you be ready tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow?” You ask, still grasping the fact that he wants you here. “Where’re we going tomorrow?”

“Bepo said there’s an island ahead,” He says. “I thought it’d be a good opportunity to start your training.”

“We did start.”

“Not with Seam.”

You regret telling him its name. “Fine, yeah, I’ll be ready tomorrow.”

“Repeat it back to me.”

You furrow your brows. “What?”

Law sighs. “Repeat the plan, so I know we’re on the same page.”

“You’ve got issues.”

“Flattery will get you nowhere.”

You gape at him and scoff. You can’t believe him right now, especially after the momentary display of vulnerability.

Rolling your eyes, you groan. “Fine.”

Law tilts his head.

“We’ll train at the next island,” You rehash. “And there I’ll use Seam. Okay?”

“Great,” He smiles.

You narrow your eyes when you see it’s fake. That son of a— “Great.”

“Perfect.”

“Perfect!”

And then you leave, wanting nothing more than to wipe that pretty, cocky smirk off his face.

— Scene 4 —

The Polar Tang docked at the island not twelve hours later.

Your stomach flips with anxiety, your throat thick with nerves. You barely speak, choosing to keep your jaw set to prevent yourself from throwing up.

You know you can pull out at any time, but the thought of holding yourself back any longer makes you seethe. If Luffy wants you to get stronger, then you will.

“You good?”

You let out a shaky breath, looking to your right. The coast of the island is calm, and the sun barely rocks where you stand on the deck. “Should be. Just gotta get the nerves out.”

Law looks over the uninhabited island. “You can say no.”

“I know.”

“You don’t have to do this.”

“Law,” You sigh, turning toward him. His eyes are wide with apprehension, but he relaxes when you rest your fingers on his bicep. “I want to. This needs to happen if I’m to survive in the New World.”

Law raises an eyebrow, still unsure, but nods. “Okay.”

And then he’s gone, appearing 30 feet away on the grass. “Room.”

You jump down from the deck onto the ground, walking into his Room. You’d discussed the entire plan earlier today, hunched over his desk with a pen and paper. You were to summon Seam inside Law’s Room in case the island decides to surprise you with giant lizards (you laughed when Law brought it up) or if something goes wrong. You’re not sure how it would work considering his consciousness inside your mindscape, but if it makes him feel safer, you’re happy to comply.

Law stands there, waiting for you to approach. “Ready, sweetheart?”

You nod, resting your hand on his arm. You inhale sharply and deeply, closing your eyes and calming the nerves, reaping havoc within your stomach.

Law watches you, and somehow, that slows your racing heart. You’re sure it’s something he can do inside Room, but you put that thought aside, focusing on honing your power.

“Seam.”

Law makes a startled sound, and you know he sees the scene before you. Your eyes flicker open, and for the first time in years, you see fragments of the world mending together with your own—the one created by the Sew-Sew Fruit. You’re still in the real world, but you’ve taken Law’s soul in your hands.

You feel him stiffen as his heart slows and his breathing weakens. You hate having someone’s life in your hands like this—maybe you should get Law’s death tattoos inked on your fingers, too.

You transport yourself into Seam, seeing Law walking around aimlessly. His eyes widen as he curses silently, watching the ocean hang from the sky, the Polar Tang floating mid-air.

Seam is a mixture of the current place and all the others you’ve seen. And since becoming a pirate, Seam has grown exponentially. To the right, you see the Going Merry docked in Skypeia, the clouds from the sky island hanging around it. Behind you, there’s a combination of the snowy mountains of Drum Island and the dunes of Alabasta, and to your left sits the Baratie. On the horizon before you, bats fly around, and the mansion on Thriller Bark sits ominously in the distance.

With the ocean above you, it’s easy to see where things are. And beneath your feet is grass. It’s always been grass.

It’s a collection of your memories, you realise. And you tear up at the sight of everything around you. It’s been a long time since you’ve been here.

He whispers your name in disbelief. “This is incredible.”

You shrug one shoulder, not used to Law using such words.

Law spins around and walks toward you. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, are you?”

“I feel weightless,” Law huffs a laugh. “What’s going on outside?”

“You’re dead.”

Law’s look of incredulity drops. “What?”

“Not really, but it seems like you are. When someone’s inside Seam, their soul transfers over, and their body doesn’t. So we’re still on the island, but your body is frozen in a dreamlike state.”

“Can you use this to fight? Can you simply touch someone, and their soul comes here? How many souls can transfer?”

“You’re full of questions today,” You joke, the feeling of being in Seam alleviating the heaviness on your chest. It surprises you. “But to put it simply, yes, yes, and as many as I want, but the more there are, the more it drains me.”

“Wow,” Law breathes, his face to the sky as he studies his submarine. “You seal souls in here.”

The initial relief of being here and nothing bad happening dissipates, and you nod solemnly.

“Yes.”

“You’re incredible.”

You whip your head toward him, the movement quick. “What?”

Law laughs unguarded. It’s a sound you’ve never heard, and you want to bottle it up and keep it forever. “This—you are extraordinary. ”

“I wouldn’t go that far,” Your cheeks are hot.

Who is this man, and what has he done with Law?

“And you don’t use it? Why?”

It’s a loaded question, but Law doesn’t seem to notice your wary expression.

“I—uh, there was an incident.”

Law gives you a quizzical look. “You don’t have to tell me.”

“No,” You nod. “I want to.”

He remains silent, giving you time to collect your thoughts.

“A girl from my island was killed when she was in Seam.”

Law listens intently, pulling you to the floor. You sit across from him, your legs crossed and your knees touching his. The grass underneath you is plush and never itchy. Your fingertips play with the blades of green, but they never rip.

“It was years ago, so don’t pity me, okay?”

He says nothing.

“Pirates attacked my island while I was using Seam on my friend, and because I know what’s going on on the outside, I ran, thinking my friend was following me. I didn’t know that a person’s physical body was unresponsive while they were in there. But because she was basically dead on her feet, and her soul was still in Seam, when the pirate killed her, her soul had nowhere to return to.”

Law’s thinking, you can tell. His eyebrows triangulate, and then realisation overcomes his expression.

“She’s still here.”

You nod and turn, pointing to a small house in the distance. It looks ragged now, but it still fills your heart with grief. It is your old home. “She lives in there. It’s protected against the other souls I bring here, but she remains the age she died.”

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart.”

You shrug. “It is what it is. No use dwelling on the past.”

“Can I use my powers in here?”

“Your Devil Fruit soul is in here, isn’t it?”

He nods. “So, if I use Room…”

“Its power and effectiveness will be depleted, but it will work.”

“So you can fight people with Devil Fruits here. Their power is just weak.”

“Yeah…” You trail off. “But I can also move between worlds and kill them outside when their soul’s in here, trapping them forever. It’s the same here. If I kill the soul, the body dies. Either way, it’s like cutting down someone already dead.”

Law exhales. You know the look in his eye, and your chest tightens.

“You want to use me.”

He sighs. “It’s not like that. I would never force you—I’d need your permission beforehand, of course.”

“What is it?”

Law scratches his forehead. “I’ve had this plan to become a Warlord.”

You freeze with your heart in your throat. A Warlord? “Why?”

“It’s complicated.”

You can tell he’s never told anyone this piece of information before by how he stutters it out—you’ve never seen Law stutter in the few months you’ve lived with his crew.

“If you’re going to use me to get there, I need to know why.”

Law takes your hand. “I’d only bring you with me if you wanted to, okay? There’s no ulterior motive. You’re powerful enough to kill me. This place is proof of that.”

“Prove it to me,” You chew on your lip. “And then tell me your plan.”

He levels you with a wary look that cracks his face open. You’ve known Law to be emotionally constipated; it's a fact, but the face he wears now is one that makes him look younger, one that he’s never shown anyone in a long time.

Law carefully brings his hands to his chest. He whispers something, scalpel. The technique is weak here, but you watch as his chest opens and his heart slides from a square slot. You stare at it in awe.

“I’ve never done this before, given this willingly to someone else, okay?” His voice is wobbly. “Be careful with it.”

And when he places the blue cube in your hands, your eyes fill with tears. His heart sits in your palms; it throbs softly and is warm. So warm.

Then you realise your position: A pirate of a rival crew, holding the heart of a captain who’s powerful enough to become a Warlord. You could easily crush it between your hands, and being inside Seam, you could do it without him interfering. You could save yourself the trouble in the future when you’re back with the Straw Hats. It’s so easy.

You peer up at Law, who remains still, his eyes on yours. You have control of his heart, and he’s staring at you. It’s then you know what this means. What he means to you. You’ve known him for two and a half months, but you would trust him with your life, and it’s obvious he would you, too.

The throbbing of his heart increases, and you giggle in shock at the phenomenon.

It's a monumental moment, you know this, though you feel nothing but anticipation in your chest. Anticipation for the sole reason that Law knows you're powerful enough to help him, and that makes him excited, which in turn, makes you excited.

You love him.

The realisation hits you all at once, and silent tears slide down your cheeks, and when your eyes focus back on him, everything you’ve ever wanted is sitting right before you.

The moment is etching itself into your brain as you sit there, arms shaking with anxiety.

You swallow and exhale deeply. “I trust you.”

“I want to kill the four emperors.”

—

So much for training, you think as you get back inside the Polar Tang.

After you returned Law’s soul to his body, he asked endless questions. And who are you to turn down someone as eager to learn as he is?

You’ve never seen Law so animated, and judging by the looks on Bepo’s face, neither has he. Law leads you down to his office, the door opposite your bedroom, and clicks it shut behind him.

You sit on a chair facing his desk, fingernails picking the worn leather. “So, what's the plan?”

Law pokes around the bookshelf on the room's far wall, picking out different books. He puts the stack on his desk and sits in his chair. Law grabs the first book on the pile. There’s an air about him that makes your heart swell tenfold—he has a child-like wonder etched into his expression and a giddy dance in his fingers as he flips to a predetermined page.

“I’m going to give the World Government one hundred hearts.”

You're taken aback, leaning forward in the armchair. The way he says it with such an innocent flicker to his tone makes you question if he really just said what he did. “Whose?”

“Pirates,” He pours over the page, using his finger to find the line he’s looking for.

“Isn’t that unethical?”

Law snorts, glancing up at you. “I’m not killing them.”

You purse your lips with slight amusement. “Okay…” Like that makes it better.

“The Marines can decide what to do with the hearts.”

“And how are you doing this?”

Law observes you for a second. “Ever heard of Poneglyphs?”

“Robin told me.”

“Nico Robin?”

You hum. “What about them?”

“I’ve got intel that there's one on an island called Hachinosu in the New World, and we’re going to infiltrate it.”

“Okay, I get that, but why steal the hearts?”

“To get the government’s attention.”

“There’s more to this you’re not telling me,” You say.

Law nods. “Of course there is. But this is a stepping stone in the grand scheme.”

“And what’s the grand scheme?”

“I need to kill someone,” Law mutters. That was easy.

“You don’t mean…”

“Say it.”

“Another Warlord?”

You get your response when he doesn’t answer, and decide to take a different approach.

“What’s this got to do with the Four Emperors of the Sea?”

Law exhales deeply. “Kaido wants to monopolise on SMILE to create a pirate crew solely of Devil Fruit users. Donquioxte Doflamingo runs the factory that produces them on Dressrosa, another island in the New World.”

“Wait,” You close your eyes, mind puzzled. “You’re gonna need to explain the whole thing to me.”

Law turns the book in front of him to show you the page. There’s an illustration of a giant building, in front of it stands a group of people in white coats.

“Twenty years ago, there were scientists on this island, Punk Hazard, who artificially created ancient giants,” He points to an island on the map on the opposite page. “Kaido purchased these giants for his crew at the time.”

Law looks at you expectantly to make sure you’re following. When you nod, exhaling, he continues.

“Two years ago, when the island was being used by Vegapunk, the island exploded when one of his scientists threw a fit with his Devil Fruit, rendering it uninhabitable.

“This year, the poison gas that was on the island as a result of that scientist’s rage dispersed. After Marineford, it was the site of Aokiji and Akainu’s battle. But, if I’ve heard correctly, there are plans to restore Vegapunk’s laboratory and start producing a substance called SAD, which can be used to make SMILE or man-made Devil Fruits. Kaido is the mastermind behind this since he took the original giants from the scientists before Vegapunk. Therefore, I need to become a Warlord to have unrestricted access to and destroy the site.”

He’s got this all figured out.

“So, who's the Warlord you want to kill?”

“Donquixote Doflamingo.”

You ponder it. “Why?”

“Revenge.”

“And what do I get out of this?”

Law runs his eyes over you. “Think of it as helping a friend. We help each other reach our goals. Me, killing Doflamingo, and you, stronger than you’ve ever been.”

You consider his proposition, pursing your lips when he rehashes what he said on Lizard Island.

Helping a friend. You wonder if it’s something he says to every pirate he makes an alliance with, but you doubt it. You’ve been on his submarine long enough to know that that word isn’t in this man’s vocabulary—you wonder what it means to him.

It’s a huge plan, one that could fail at any time, and sure, there are things he’s not telling you—like how the Poneglyphs and Doflamingo are correlated, perhaps they’re not—but you know your answer. You’ve always been a sucker for revenge plans.

Before you tell him, you ponder how your crew is going, if they’d be scared that you’re even considering helping someone become a Warlord. You think about the ones you’ve defeated or fought before: Crocodile, Blackbeard, Moria, Bartholomew Kuma. But there’s a few that helped you. Boa Hancock is the main woman on your mind, and you smile. You hope Luffy’s okay.

So, your decision is an easy one. You smile. “When do we start?”

— Scene 5 —

Bepo knows something’s going on. He sees the silent conversations between you and his captain and the meetings in Law’s office. At first, he thinks nothing of it since Law’s training you, But when he watches you and Law whisper in a crowded room, his poor little heart can’t take it any longer.

“So, you and Law…”

You don’t look up from the map Bepo has you outlining. “What about me and Law?”

“Are you… you know…”

When you glance at him, the fur on his cheeks is tinted red. “What are you talking about?”

Bepo squeaks. “Is there something going on?”

Your hand pauses on the page. “Like what?”

“Something… you know,” Bepo whines. “Don’t make me say it.”

“Bepo, I couldn’t make you say anything. I don’t even know what you’re referring to.”

“Are you kissing?” He slaps his paw over his mouth.

You gape at him, your face heating up. “What? No!”

“I’m sorry!” Bepo cries.

You sit awkwardly with your face in your hands, having dropped the pencil at his question.

“Talk to Law if you’re so concerned about it,” You say, dropping your hands to your lap. “But never ask that again.”

Bepo stands from the table, his chair scraping. “I’m sorry!”

And then he runs from the room. You stare at where he just sat, contemplating if you and Law looked like that from an outsider’s perspective. Surely, you have countless meetings about the mission and training at almost every possible island the submarine encounters, but that’s all business. Your body warms like it's trying to rid itself of a virus.

You rest your forehead on the table. If the Heart Pirates think something like that is happening, the alliance between you and Law will never work. He can’t have his crew distrusting him.

There’s a crackling through the speakers.

“Meeting in the common area in 5. I won’t tell you again.”

When you get there, the crew is packed inside. You spot Bepo near the front of the room and push through pirates to get there; all of them are happy to let you through. You wonder if they think you’re only here for one reason. The thought disgusts you.

“We have a new objective,” Law announces. “To kill Domflamingo, a Warlord status must be achieved.”

The Heart Pirates gasp and start murmuring. A few pirates, namely Uni, Ikkaku, and Clione, who you’ve yet to have a proper conversation with, eye you with disdain. They clearly have a problem with you, a Straw Hat, being here, but you give them a tight-lipped smile and look back to Law.

He looks at you and says your name. “We’re forming an alliance. She has Devil Fruit powers that could make the process quicker. Therefore, we’ll be working together for the foreseeable future. We leave for the New World now.”

Your smile is still a thin line, but you know why he had to tell him—they’re his crew, after all.

“So get your shit together,” He glares at the three pirates who regard you with contempt. “Back to work.”

A collective yes, captain rumbles through the room before they go back to their tasks.

“And Bepo,” Law says, his voice low. “Get your head out of the gutter.”

Bepo whines and then sulks as he leaves, his head down. Penguin and Shachi bump his shoulders, snickering. You shadow them down to the boiler room, your steps light and calculated.

It was a technique Law taught you, how to keep your steps silent. Your training has been more beneficial than you imagined—Zoro will be so proud of your stealth skills—and you still have much to learn.

Seam has been easier each time you summon it, and the thought of doing so now brings little to no negative emotions. You’ve learnt to embrace the technique instead of fearing it—as you said, there’s no use dwelling on the past.

Two weeks isn’t a lot of time, but you reiterate the plan in your mind every available moment Bepo has you watching him work instead of making you outline islands. It’s all you think about before you sleep and when you wake up. That and Law.

You shake your head. There’s no time to think about him when the most important year of your life is about to begin.

Your mother always told you that if you risk nothing, you’re risking everything. And if you and Law are to stop Doflamingo and whatever he has over Law’s head, it’s only a matter of time before you must decide what is worth risking for the sake of humanity.

— Scene 6 —

“Docking!”

The submarine surfaces at a random island in the New World. You’re the first to emerge from the entrance, and people stare at the submarine with suspicious glares. You pay no mind.

It’s been three months since Law told you his plan and three months since your hands last bled. The Heart Pirates are on their way to Hachinosu Pirate Island, where the Poneglyph is, and Law recommended a trial for the heart-stealing scheme. The victim is some lowly pirate named Seamus Wells.

Since you’ve entered the New World, you’ve used Seam far more than you ever thought you would, no longer holding back your true power. The mere thought of showing your crew what you’ve become fills you with such anticipation that you can barely contain it nowadays.

Bepo runs past you, the plank of wood in his paws. He slams it down on the concrete, causing a few civilians to flee in terror. “Oops.”

“Seamus Wells should be staying on the island's east side,” Law announces as his crew files onto the deck. “Keep away from there, understand?”

Yes, captain.

“We’ve got five hours to kill before we need to be there,” He says, adjusting the katana on his shoulder. “Do whatever you want.”

You raise your eyebrows. “You’re not coming?”

“I’d rather stay here than be recognised and jeopardise our plan. Here,” He fishes a baby transponder snail from his coat. “Take this. I’ll let you know if the plan changes.”

You take it from him, noticing the patterned hat on its head, which is similar to the one that sits on Law’s. “That’s so cute.”

“Shut it,” Law snaps, his cold exterior never wavering. “Bepo, accompany her.”

“Doubt she needs an escort, but okay,” Bepo jokes, pulling you with him off the sub.

Law turns, pausing to scan the rear of the submarine with his sharp eyes before he goes inside.

Guess he’s all business today.

“Come on, are you hungry?”

You smile at the polar bear, dragging your gaze away from Law’s retreating figure. “I could eat.”

Penguin cuts in, his steps aligning with yours. “I’m starving.”

“Me, too,” Shachi groans.

Bepo shakes his head. “Why’re you two here?”

“Captain told you to accompany her, and we’re accompanying you.”

Bepo opens to mouth to reply, most likely a complaint, but you point to a restaurant in the distance and a line of people outside. “Let's go there.”

Penguin and Shachi’s steps increase, and then they are running toward the building. There are a few stray screams, but most people disappear when you join the end of the line.

“What’s their problem?” Bepo stills beside you, and you look up at him. “What?”

“Look.”

Your face and Law’s hang on the wall of the restaurant entrance, and an obscene number of berries are listed below your names. Wanted posters.

“They know you’re working together.”

“I got that,” You snap, the mere presence of the posters souring your mood. Cursing under your breath, you feel your chest tighten. “But the Straw Hats are meant to be dead.”

“We should go back to the sub,” Penguin mumbles, his eyes darting in every direction. When you turn to see where he’s looking, you glare at the civilians approaching slowly with firearms. There aren’t many; you count fifteen minimum, but the fact that you’ve been here less than twenty minutes has irritation morphing your features.

“They’re not meant to know I’m alive.”

Bepo whines beside you. “We gotta go.”

“Okay, in a second.” You take a second to inspect yours. 400 million berries.

You pout in confusion. When did that increase?

And then you slide your eyes to Law’s. 450 million berries.

You smirk before you notice the whispering occurring around you. Perhaps if you saw them in your own time and not in front of a large group of civilians, you’d taken them down and show Law. There is only a 50 million berry difference.

The others are already down the road when you decide to leave the line, your nerves simmering.

If the world knows a Straw Hat is alive, you may as well embrace it.

“Hurry up!”

You twist your lips, stopping in the middle of the street to observe the civilians.

“Get outta here, pirate!” “Yeah! Unless you want your head on a stick.”

You feel a pang of regret in your chest at the fear on their faces but continue toward the Polar Tang.

There are quick, heavy footfalls behind you. In the distance, you see Law standing on the deck, watching you. His face remains emotionless, but you see a familiar glint in his eye.

When the person swings their weapon, you dodge swiftly, moving your head slightly to the left. You have yet to face them, but you can imagine the gobsmacked look on their face.

You refuse to fight a civilian, instead choosing to break out into a sprint toward the submarine.

“Took you a while,” Law teases. “I was starting to get worried.”

You stick your tongue out, crossing the wood plank to jump onto the deck. “Awww, you care about me?”

“Tsk,” Law turns around, cheeks warming. “We’re going to dock elsewhere.”

You hop down the stairs, preparing yourself for the jolt of the entrance closing. The sub immediately submerges, and Law touches your shoulder to keep you steady.

“Guess what I saw,” You bite back your smile.

“Enlighten me.”

“My bounty’s gone up.”

Law smirks, glancing at the barely contained smile on your face. “Oh, yeah?”

“400 million.”

He whistles lowly. “Soon, you’ll be in the big league, sweetheart.”

You knock his bicep with your shoulder. “Okay, Mr 450 million.”

“Captain! The east side of the island is approaching.”

“Surface there,” Law replies without taking his eyes off you.

His voice lowers. “We’re moving the mission forward. The island’s already aware of our presence. May as well get it over with now.”

“Docking!”

“Let’s go.”

—

Seamus Wells works in a fish factory. The sun sets behind you as you step through discarded fish guts and bones, the floor slathered with sticky blood. You hold your hand over your nose and mouth, the smell enough to make you gag.

Law strides ahead of you, the scabbard that holds his katana reflecting the deep gold of the sun. How he’s walking through here fine is unknown to you, but you try to catch up with him, the soles of your boots slipping slightly.

“You’d think they’d have a better way of managing this,” You murmur. “Poor fish.”

“Quiet.”

You frown, mocking him. A crack from the floor above makes your face drop.

Law stops ahead of you, his hand out, his index finger pointed. You know the gesture. Shut the fuck up, and don’t move.

His head turns slowly until you see his sidelong glance on you. There are no further sounds, and you hold your breath.

You realise the sun goes down fairly quickly on San Faldo, and the night air wafts over your skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake. It’s suddenly dark, and the waves against the wharf outside have settled.

Unease stews in your stomach, and you resist the urge to run. You don’t dare look behind you in fear of what you may see, focusing your eyes on the staircase in the corner. Across from you, Law senses your discomfort, and his steps are light and calculated as he makes his way over to you.

You grasp his hand, chills going down your spine as the wind whistles through a crack in the broken window on the far wall. The scene reminds you of Thriller Bark, and you set your jaw in an attempt to stop shivering.

Law’s hand is big and warm in yours, his skin calloused. His head is on a swivel, monitoring for any danger. You grip harder, moving your other hand to the crook of his elbow.

And despite the terror coursing through your veins, you can’t help but take note of the hard muscle. It’s a good distraction but not important right now, and you almost laugh at your ridiculousness. Law looks down at you, a quizzical twinkle in his eye, but he doesn’t move an inch.

You shake against him, the breeze finding its way under your clothes, and notice that you can see it when you breathe. When did the temperature drop so drastically?

Law points upstairs, to which you do nothing. If he was expecting a response, he didn’t get one. Then, he raises his hand.

“Shambles,” He whispers, and you almost lose your balance as you land at the foot of the stairs.

“Don’t make any unnecessary noise,” Law leans to whisper in your ear, and you shiver.

You silently salute, choosing to lighten the mood with a silly gesture that he blinks at. Law makes to go up the stairs, ignoring your gesture. Panic takes hold of your chest, and you tug him back into you.

“What’re you doing?”

Law scrunches his face. “Me? What’re you doing?”

You squeak when there’s a scuffle. Clearly, over it, Law sighs and takes the stairs two at a time. And since he knows you won’t stay downstairs alone, he isn’t surprised when you chase after him, your hand returning to his forearm.

What you see is nothing short of disgusting.

“What the fuck.”

The man, who you know is Seamus, sits on a wooden chair, fish blood soaking his clothes.

“Keep away from me!”

“Seriously?” Law utters, unimpressed.

“Stay back!”

You scowl. “And to think I was scared shitless.”

Law steps away from you. “Room.”

A familiar blue dome covers you. Law draws his katana from its scabbard, its sleek design glinting in the moonlight. He slices the air, and Seamus is dismembered, his head floating a few feet above his body.

Seamus screams, noticing his body sitting in the chair headless. “Don’t kill me!”

Law makes quick work of the fish blood, using his power to remove it from Seamus’ clothes. You watch in awe as the white of the t-shirt turns pristine.

You’ve told Law of your admiration for his Devil Fruit powers. He usually waves it off with pink-tinted cheeks and an unamused expression. But watching something like this in action, you want to know just how deep his power goes.

“Please! I’ll do anything,” Seamus sobs, tears and snot coating his face. “Please don’t kill me.”

“As you’ve said, asshole,” Law steps back and retracts room. “Your turn.”

You feel your icy cheeks defrost at the realisation of his actions. You give him a smile of appreciation and approach Seamus.

But when he looks at you, his crying ceases. “What’re you gonna do, huh? Slap me with those little hands? You should let your boyfriend do the work.”

Law grunts behind you, but you cock your head, pointedly ignoring the boyfriend call.

Seamus chokes out a laugh between his hiccups. “You don’t scare me.”

You shrug and place your hand on his greasy hair. “Seam.”

He goes limp in the chair, his eyes rolling to the back of his head.

“Can I have fun with him while you’re in there?”

“Go ahead,” You joke before transporting into Seam.

Seamus’ wails echo through your mindscape when you get there. It’s changed, and you give the scene a look of disgust. Thanks to Seamus, the walls of Seam are painted red, fish blood dripping from the Sunny, coagulating on the sands of Alabasta, and staining the seas of the East Blue. You curse him for tainting your memories.

He’s running toward the house, and you claw your hand. “Sew.”

He’s yanked back, a thick thread wrapped around his neck. He struggles against it as you pull him toward you, and when he gets a glimpse of you, he screams.

Needles materialise in your hands, and you slam one of them down just in front of his crotch, to which his eyes bulge out of his head.

“You were talking such a tough game out there, Seamus. What happened?” You'd surely crack a few teeth if you clenched your jaw any harder. “You even said I wasn’t scary, yet you screamed when you saw me.”

He says nothing, but his throat is starting to become raw.

“You’ve ruined Seam with your stupid, fishy blood tactic,” You complain, sinking the second needle into the grass beside his foot, just knicking the edge of his shoe. “Now, it's all I’m gonna see for the next few weeks.”

Sighing, you consider him again, groaning when you see that the front of his pants is darker than the rest.

“Ergh,” You scrunch your nose. “I’m gonna leave now. My job’s done.”

“Don’t kill me!”

When you transport out of Seam, you see Law position his hand for scalpel, and you immediately remove your fingers from the strands of hair.

“Oh,” You roll your lips between your teeth when you circle the chair. You told Law to make a masterpiece, and he did, albeit a little psychotically.

Law has a callous smile playing on his lips, and the sight is utterly intoxicating. The first time you saw the expression and vacant silver gaze, you understood why they call him the Surgeon of Death—the man is simply brutal. When you first met him, you thought his blood ran cold, but you hadn’t met the man Shakky spoke of until he took the first heart of one hundred. Initially, he scared you, but now, you’re terribly and irrevocably fascinated by him. If only those people knew the side of him that you did.

“Have fun in there?”

“Looks like your fun puts mine to shame.”

Seamus’s chest is raw, his skin in strips. That’s all you see before you look away.

“Do it,” You say. “And make it painful.”

Law coughs a laugh. “Feeling a little sadistic, are we?”

You arch an eyebrow. “People like him deserve it.”

He hums and turns his attention back to Seamus, and you watch as a cube emerges from his chest. It floats into Law’s palm, and he gives it a little squeeze. He observes the body before him writhe in pain, but no noise escapes—Seamus’ soul is still in Seam after all.

Law hums. “Not as satisfying.”

Clicking your tongue, you remove Seamus from your mindscape, and the room fills with shrieks. You wince, your shoulders raising to your ears.

“Okay, we’re done,” You say, spinning and making a beeline for the stairs. “C’mon, Hachinosu is waiting for us.”

Law shoves the heart into his coat and pries his eyes from his victim.

— Scene 7 —

Your eye twitches as you watch a pirate sock Bepo in the face. You’ve been put on rest before the mission in Hachinosu. Law told you to save energy for it, so you follow his professional instructions.

On the way to the drop-off point, a ship started bombing the submarine, hence why you’re cringing as Bepo takes another hit.

You stand on the deck of the Polar Tang while the Heart Pirates fight. They looked to be rookies when they attacked the Polar Tang, but you know not to underestimate rookies, especially since you’re a Straw Hat, so when Penguin joked that it was going to be an easy battle, you arched an eyebrow and shook your head. Oh, how wrong he was.

Now, Penguin lays on the ground holding his arm. You’re sure it's broken.

“Get up, Penguin!” You yell. “Thought this was gonna be easy! We’re in the New World!”

He whines, rolling on the dirt. “Shut up!”

An explosion rocks the submarine, and you teeter, making a sound of surprise. Your feet slide on the salty deck, waves from the impact crashing over the left side. Another cannonball lands not 20 feet away, and you start to panic. “Guys!”

Law gave you strict orders to not use your power—ever the responsible doctor. But with how things are going, you’ll be breaking his rules.

“Fire!” The voice is muffled by the waves, but you hear it.

“Sew.”

Threads weave together before you until they form a giant sheet, into which the airborne cannonball falls. Using one of Luffy’s offensive techniques, you fling the bomb back toward the ship it came from. Cries and screams echo before it turns the deck to splinters.

“Hey!” Law calls, his voice gruff. “I thought I told you not to use that.”

You turn to see him on the ground beneath the sub. “Sorry, my life was in danger.”

“You’re never in danger,” Law quips. “Not with me around. Now, go inside.”

“Inside?” Your heart skips a beat. Not with me around.

“You’re less likely to use your power,” He dodges an attack, his katana in his hands as he swipes at them. “Please, go.”

Sighing, you follow his orders—but only because he said please.

It’s not long before the rest of the crew piles inside. But you see Law holding something white and mangled instead of his proud smirk. You tug your eyebrows together and draw closer to him.

“What’s that?” You ask warily, having a feeling you know. Considering his head is bare, his black tendrils standing on end, your heart drops. “Oh, Law.”

He sniffs. “Nothing to worry about. Just a hat.”

You know he’s lying, but nod anyway and leave him.

Bepo’s solemn face haunts you. He follows you around, not knowing what to do when his captain is heartbroken.

“How’s your jaw?” You ask, remembering the punch.

“Oh, I'm fine. Nothing I can’t handle.”

You look over at Ikkaku, who still holds a grudge against you, but her gaze is softer than usual this time.

You give her a smile—an olive branch, despite not doing anything to offend her other than being on the submarine, and bearing the values of your crew. She gives you one back, and you take it as an appreciation for using your power to save the Polar Tang from the cannonballs. Uni and Clione sit beside her with the same reluctant gratitude. You take it as a win.

The more you think about it, the more the whole ship seems on edge. The crew’s footsteps are light, and the common area is not nearly as rowdy as usual. One wrong move and Law will crack.

So, you take it upon yourself to be the first one to disturb him in his office. He’s been locked in there for hours, and since your bedroom is directly opposite, it only makes sense—at least that’s what you're telling yourself.

You rap your knuckles on the door three times, slowly opening it after. “Law.”

The room is dark, and you hold your tongue when a joke surfaces in your mind.

“I don’t want to talk right now.”

You step further in. “Are you okay?”

Law makes no sound.

“If this is about your hat—”

“Leave me alone.” His voice is so broken that it hurts your chest.

“I could fix it.”

He says your name softly. “Please, leave.”

You swallow and nod once. “Of course… sorry for bothering you.”

On your way out, you spot the cause of his distress sitting on the table. You clench your fists to resist the urge to take it, but the voice in your mind wins, and you snatch it.

You rush from the room, and if Law sees you, he says nothing.

When you get to your room, you lock the door behind you. The fur hat in your hands is covered in dirt and specks of blood, and it's utterly ruined. You curse at the state of it.

You lay the pieces on your bed, figuring out how to piece them back together. It takes a few tries, but once you’ve got a design that works, you put your hand over the material.

Immediately, the sections come together, forming a brim at the front instead of around the bottom like the original hat. It’s different, but you work with what you’ve got.

You hold it in your hands once it’s formed and smile. Deep in your stomach, there’s an inkling of doubt that Law won’t accept it, but you hope he can appreciate the effort.

—

You keep the hat to yourself for the night, not wanting to impose Law anymore. When the first sounds of the crew rising from their slumber wakes you, you’re quick to dash to the infirmary. Law’s in here every morning, and when you open the door, you’re not shocked to see him. What is jarring is the lack of his signature hat in the room—the one you’ve got under your arm.

“Morning,” You greet, hiding the garment from his view. Law grunts, not bothering to look up from the paper he scribbles on. “I’ve got something for you.”

“If it’s one of Shachi’s new breakfast foods, I don’t want it.”

You roll your eyes. “I’d never subject you to that.”

Law exhales a laugh.

“This is far more important than that, anyway,” You walk up behind him. “Turn around.”

He shakes his head. “I’ve got a lot of work to do, sweetheart. Can it wait?”

“Nope,” Smiling, you put your hand on his shoulder. Law sighs and glances at you.

The look on his face is one you’ll never forget.

“Wha–”

You suppress a giggle and shove the hat in his face. “I fixed it for you.”

Law turns, his eyes wide. He takes the hat from your hands, the soft material delicate in his grip. He’s speechless.

“I took it from your office last night, and I know I shouldn’t have, but you were so upset.”

He shakes his head in disbelief.

This lack of speech makes you nervous. “I know it’s not the same as it was before. There was no way I could salvage enough of it to do that, so now you have a brim. I think it looks cute, but—”

“Shut up.”

You come up short, immediately closing your mouth. The infirmary falls silent, with you no longer rambling and Law standing there in shock, hearts in his eyes.

“Law—”

“Thank you.”

His words have an underlying connotation; you just know it, and how he looks at you confirms it.

You make a sound of surprise, your body freezing. You swear he can hear your heartbeat from how loud it is in your ears. “What?”

His gaze of adoration quickly fades when he sees your shock. He drops the hat on the trolley and turns back to his desk. “Are you hungry? I’m sure breakfast is ready.”

You don’t know what he’s saying. You’re not listening. I love you, I love you.

The tension between you is suffocating, weighing heavily on your chest. “Law.”

He lets out an awkward laugh, unsure what to say.

“Look at me, Law.”

“I can’t,” He whispers.

You tilt your head. “Why?”

“Because you don’t need to see me like this.”

“Like what?” Your tone grows hard. “Like you have feelings?”

He glares you.

“You have a heart, Law. I see it every day,” You say. “So don’t pretend like you’re some cold, heartless man because you’re not.”

When he doesn’t answer, you go on. “Do you need proof? I used to think you only picked me up in Sabaody because I was useful to you—”

“—you were—”

“—you wanted to help me, and you did. Because you’re kind, Law. You want to help people; otherwise, you wouldn’t try to kill the four emperors.”

“And if I said it was purely selfish?”

“I’d say you’re lying. Because despite this revenge plan you have for Doflamingo, you don’t want him hurting anyone else. You care for people.”

“Of course, I care for people,” Law snaps. “I wouldn’t be a doctor if I didn’t want to help others.”

You shrug. “Need I say anymore?”

“I’ve work to do.” Law murmurs, his eyes downcast and tongue in his cheek.

You know when you’re being dismissed, so you hum and turn to leave, but not without noticing the tight grip he has on the fur hat.

— Scene 8 —

Hijacking a ship is out of your expertise, especially a smuggling vessel.

When you and Bepo spot the ship in the distance from the deck of the Polar Tang, its lights bright in the darkness, you immediately notify Law.

“Are you sure it's the one?”

“Yes,” You groan. “Who else is out this far? Besides, there are no other ships around.”

Then, Hakugan directs the submarine toward the ship.

Law shambles you and Bepo onto the vessel, where the pair of you are to distract someone and take control. It takes a while for you to remember what Law said as you and Bepo wander the ship. Somehow, you find yourself in the same place you started. The deck is empty, though there are lights on inside.

“Where and to whom are we meant to do this again?”

Bepo shrugs. “I was too scared to listen.”

“Oh my g—”

“This way, Sir.”

You jump behind a pillar, pulling Bepo with you, though you doubt he's hidden.

Behind you, several more footsteps approach, but this time, it's Shachi and Penguin with Uni, Clione, and Hakugan.

“Captain and Hakugan have seized the control room,” Penguin says. “No thanks to you two.”

You gape. “Not my fault his instructions were shit.”

“This way, we have to protect Captain.”

This way. You look back in the direction of the man who passed you before. Why would you call someone Sir on a smuggling vessel?

You keep your mouth shut for the moment, following Penguin to the control room. When you get there, there’s an unconscious man on the floor, and when you look at Law, he’s pressing buttons, ignoring the looks from Hakugan, who steers the ship.

“Are we on course?”

Law side-eyes you as Hakugan answers. “Yes.”

“I, uh,” You start, averting your eyes. “Had a question.”

“Out with it,” Law mumbles.

The pirates around you listen in, curious.

“Are there meant to be this many people on a smuggling vessel? Especially noble-like people?”

Law’s head spins around, his eyes dark. “What?”

“This guy was leading another guy somewhere, and he called him Sir,” You bite your lip. “I was just wondering if that’s normal for a —”

“Fuck,” Law curses loudly. “You imbeciles, this is a passenger ship.”

Bepo gasps, looking faint. “Oh, we really messed up.”

Your jaw falls open, and Bepo grabs you, wrapping his arms around you. “Take me to your dreamland. I can’t be here.”

“Where did you see these people?”

“Umm, back down on the main deck.”

Law grits his teeth. “You said this was the ship.”

“To be fair, it’s dark, and this ship was far—”

He pushes past you and out the door. The control room is quiet, save for Bepo’s whimpers. The familiar zip of shambles sounds outside before Law reenters.

“We’re heading for Hachinosu already.”

“That’s good, right?”

“Yes, Bepo,” Law mumbles, leaning over the control panel. “We’ll be there much earlier than expected.”

“Why don’t you sound happy about that?” You are hesitant to ask.

“Because,” He turns to look at you directly. “The king and nobles of Hachinosu are on this ship.”

Bepo almost drops to the ground, Penguin shoving himself under the mink’s arm. “You’re kidding me.”

“We’ll have to lay low,” Law addresses his crew. “Draw no attention to yourself, and don’t tell anyone who you are. Understood?”

Yes, captain.

Law rubs his forehead, mumbling curse words to himself.

He says your name. “I know this is a big favour to ask, but is there any way you could create casual clothes for the crew? I wouldn’t ask if it weren’t absolutely necessary, but knowing this crew…”

“How long until we reach the island?”

“One day.”

You purse your lips. “Give me two hours.”

—

Two hours is enough time for you but too much for the rest of the crew. As you finish the last garment, Penguin’s pants, there’s a sudden scream from below the main deck.

Law inhales sharply, his jaw set. “If that’s—”

“Shachi, this is your fault,” You hear Penguin through the door of the control room. You glance at Law, whose eyes narrow. “Fuck, run.”

Hakugan, Uni, and Clione burst through the door, Penguin, Jean-Bart, and Shachi close behind them. Law holds his tongue, anger simmering in his gaze.

The door slams shut, and the rumbling of voices outside increases.

“Don’t tell me you did what I told you not to do.”

Shachi grimaces. “We didn’t do it on purpose, Captain…”

“Morons, the lot of you,” Law snaps. “If the King of Hachinosu knows we’re here, he knows why we’re here, and he won’t stop until all of us are dead, got it?”

Penguin gulps. “What do we do?”

“Pirates!”

Law groans with frustration. “Room and Shambles.”

You hit the deck, literally. You’re outside, and the chaos of the passengers is on the other side of the ship. Bepo moans in pain beside you, and Law stands in the middle of his crew.

“Stay here, and don’t make a sound.” He flicks his fingers again, and then he’s gone.

Penguin sighs, rubbing his head. “He made that hurt on purpose.”

Shachi hums in agreement, and you roll your eyes.

“Maybe if you two weren’t so loud, we wouldn’t be in this mess,” Bepo mumbles, glaring at his best friends.

“Says you! We can’t go a day without hearing you whine,” Shachi quips.

Bepo makes a sound of indignation. “That really hurts me, you know that?”

“Yeah, well—”

“Stop,” You whisper, noticing a presence nearby. The crew freezes, and Bepo turns to you, terror morphing his features.

“Sew.”

“Argh!”

You push yourself up, walking directly to where your threads caught someone. A man in his late 30s resists Sew's hold on him.

“You dirty pirate! Get this off me!”

You stare at him. He’s dressed fairly well, with a white suit and gold accents. A noble.

“Hey! I see you! Get away from me!”

Pursing your lips, you decide what to do. In his hand, obscured by the long train of his jacket tail, is a handgun.

“Hey—” You throw your hand up, wrapping threads around his mouth in case he draws attention.

He screams against the cotton, his finger squeezing the trigger of his gun. You duck, and the bullet flies off the metal railing. Still, you remain silent.

You hear Bepo call your name and wince. Now, this guy knows who you are.

The man’s eyes widen, and he starts tugging his arms, his gun tumbling to the deck in his struggle. He cries out when he sees it close to your feet.

You tilt your head, considering him and your plan of action. He did just try to shoot you.

He knows your name, who you are, and what you’re doing on the ship (if he knows about the Poneglyph on Hachinosu).

You toss up your options. On one hand, he is a civilian. On the other, he knows that it were you on the ship tonight, subduing him. Who knows what the newspaper will write about you if that gets out. You hurt innocent civilians?

Nothing about this man is innocent, that’s a fact, but standing here, staring at him, you don’t know what to do.

It isn’t until you hear Law ask where you are back with the crew that you release a breath. Law comes over, his eyebrows tugged together.

“What’s up with this guy?”

“I don’t know what to do with him.”

The man cries, tears running down his cheeks and over the threads covering his mouth. Law frowns.

“Why don’t I just take his heart and be done with it? He’s a pirate himself.”

You give the man a once over, still processing what just happened. “He shot at me.”

Law eyes go cold as he cocks his head, regarding the noble with indifference. “This will only hurt a little.”

You watch as he uses Scalpel, the man’s heart sliding from his chest. He passes out.

Law turns back to you, shoving the heart into his coat. “You okay?”

“I’m fine,” You nod. “Just didn’t know what to do.”

“That’s okay. You did good nonetheless.” And then he wraps his fingers around your hand to whisk you away.

“Wait,” You exhale, looking back at the man’s unconscious body. “There.”

A piece of paper sticks out of his pants pocket. It’s small, only half the size of a normal map, but you rush over to it. Unfolding it, you recognise the style.

“Law.”

As he approaches, his boots click on the deck, peering over your shoulder. “What is that?”

“A map,” You whisper, turning it around to get a better angle of the island it represents. “If this is Hachinosu…”

“It could be where the Poneglyph is,” Law mumbles, pointing to the skull in the middle of the paper. “But why would a noble have access to this?”

You shrug. “Maybe it’s a part of their plan. I mean, he did come out here alone…”

Law hums with consideration, his gaze flickering to yours. There’s a glimmer of something behind his usual icy front, and you’re lucky you’re close enough to see it.

“You’re right. We’ll take it anyway, but be careful tomorrow. Who knows what they’ve got planned for when we arrive.”

— Scene 9 —

The crick in your back flares, as you hurry off the ship—sleeping upright in the control room is taking its toll on you. After Law took the noble’s heart, you and the crew were sent to the control room to sleep. Law said he took care of the remainder of the passengers… whatever that meant.

Law isn’t far behind you, but the rest of the crew is already on the island, fighting off pirates.

Now, you’re to find the site of the rumoured Poneglyph in the middle of the island. You take a different route to everyone else in case anyone is seized. With the map from the noble clutched in your fist, you run.

“Go left! I’ll take the right.”

Nodding, you veer toward the large building on the port, hand out to summon threads to restrain the men running at you. Their swords slash at the strings, but you’re gone before they free themselves.

An explosion makes you stumble as you enter a warehouse, men with guns pointed at you the moment you step inside. “Seam.”

The eyes of the gunmen immediately go dazed, and they lower their guns involuntarily—you can feel the addition of them to your mindscape. Fifteen. You gasp at the fact that it actually works.

Seam has evolved. You’ve only used it once, summoned the ability without physically touching someone, and it was shoddy at best. What you did now was a shot in the dark. There’s no way you knew it would work.

But you don’t dwell on it when you run through the building and out the other side into an alleyway. Someone screams at the sight of you before gunshots ring through the street.

You duck, taking a sharp right into another warehouse, this one empty. The outside sounds: bombs ticking and exploding, cannonballs, yells and cries, and swords on swords are muffled inside here. You tiptoe through, checking behind doors and peering around corners before advancing.

There’s no missing the giant pirate skull in the island's centre, your target when you emerge. The map in your hand becomes useless when you notice the behemoth landmark. Who needs a map when you can see the thing everywhere in the city?

Stepping out of the warehouse, the area before you is full of Heart Pirates on resident pirates, fighting mercilessly with swords, fists, and guns. Swallowing your nervous pants, you aim a thread around a pirate sneaking up behind Clione, who’s already engaged in a fight. The man gags as you pull him backward, your face becoming a scowl when you look at him.

“Going for a man’s back is cowardly,” You say, ignoring how the man spits at you.

“You stupid bitch, get off me.”

Clenching your jaw, you throw him against the wall and string him up. His knife clatters to the cobblestones, and you leave him there—Law’s crew is important to him, like hell you’re going to let someone hurt them.

You turn, dodging a fist flying at your face. Making a sound of surprise, you sweep your leg out, catching the man off guard. He goes down, groaning in pain.

“Marines!”

You feel your heart drop into your stomach. Whipping around, you don’t see the familiar white and blue uniform, and you’re not going to. You run away from the port, many resident pirates scattering into the side streets and yelling the same warning.

Why are the Marines here? And how’d they get here so quickly?

You hear your name being called, the sound echoing. Bepo stands there, his arms full of beige woven bags—the stolen hearts. Your eyes widen at the number he carries already.

“Go right! There’s a road that leads straight there.”

Smiling, you thank Bepo and follow his directions. Your eyebrows tug together when you recall the hearts. There had to be at least thirty, and who knows how many trips Bepo has already made to the passenger vessel.

Shaking your head, you direct your brain to your target—the Poneglyph. You can’t read them; only one person can, and you miss her like crazy. She’d be able to understand it and relay the knowledge to you because there’s no way she’d tell Law about it at this point in time.

You wish Robin could hear you now, wherever she is.

Your path to the middle is easy after transporting twenty-eight more pirate souls into Seam. You manage to dodge all but one nasty punch to the cheek but get shot in the shoulder after purposefully instigating a pirate (not your best idea, but he was insulting the very existence of Luffy, something you’d never stand for).

You know Law will give you an earful when he sees you next.

The lead bullet is lodged in your muscle, and the bleeding is staunched thanks to the ripped hem of your t-shirt. You could have made a bandage using Sew, but your Devil Fruit powers dwindle with every passing second—if a pirate were to attack you now, you couldn’t fight them off.

The dizziness and ringing in your ears are almost unbearable, though you’re unsure if the ringing is from the punch or the way you hit your head when you fell from the impact of the bullet—you’re positive Law won’t care where it came from, just the fact that both of those things happened to you.

You blink away the stars in your vision and cough. The wound is itchy, and you resist the urge to dig your fingers into the hole and rip the bullet out yourself. The injury, paired with the pirate souls in Seam, is taking a toll on you.

“Fuck,” You pant, pausing to lean against a palm tree. Peering down at your shoulder, you almost faint at the amount of blood that has soaked through your makeshift bandage. When you inhale, your head gets lighter, so you choose to keep your breaths short.

You can feel your head drooping, but push off the tree to continue. Gone are the cobblestones, and in their place is dirt. Pressing your palm on your wound, you wince and think against doing it again. You remember Law telling you to put pressure on injuries like this, but you don’t think you can—you’re going to pass out from the pain.

Blood drips onto the sandy dirt beneath your feet, and the scorching sun strengthens the metallic scent. Your skin burns under the same heat, and you fear you won’t make it to the Poneglyph at this rate.

Up ahead, you hear the clang of swords. You whine, knowing that you won’t be able to fight someone with a weapon in this condition. So, you hurry down a barren alleyway, the cool air of the shadows allowing you some relief. You stumble but catch yourself on the wall.

Sure, you’ve had bullet wounds in the past, namely in Alabasta, but it felt nothing like this. With a few deep breaths, you feel no different. If only Chopper were here, with his panicked assessments and swift procedures, you would be scolded but fixed up quickly. Usopp’s chaotic, anxiety-ridden laughter echoes in your ears, and you shake your head to rid your mind of memories.

Another person’s presence, one not far away, weighs heavily on you.

“Law…” There’s no use calling for him. He’s on the other side of the island. You know this, yet do it again. You wish you had the baby transponder snail he gave you on that island, the one with the fur hat like Law’s. An involuntary giggle escapes your lips.

You can die without telling him— The souls in Seam wage war inside your mind, and all the yelling and screaming causes a sharp pain to throb behind your eye. “Shut up.”

Going into your mindscape now would be foolish. You’d waste your available energy and pass out right here without fulfilling Law’s request—check the giant skull for the Poneglyph. It would kill you to disappoint him.

You stagger out of the street; the sound of metal clanging and scraping is gone. Panting, you walk up the main road, the denser trees making it difficult to locate the entrance of the skull.

With bloody hands, you push back stray hairs that stick to your forehead with sweat. The world around you gets fuzzy, but Law’s averted eyes and fake smile force you to go on. You knew the plan going into this, and if you were to disappoint him—you’ve already thought about this.

You rub your eyes with your knuckles, squeezing your cheeks after to feel something in your face. When did your face start getting numb?

Faces pop into your head: Luffy, Zoro, Usopp, Sanji, Nami, Chopper, Robin, Franky, Brook… and you cry at the thought that you could leave them wondering what happened to you. Your stomach churns at the mere inkling that, at a time like this, a time when death rears his ugly head inside you, you have failed your family. You failed to stay alive.

“I’m sorry,” You slur, your face sticky with tears and blood. “I love you.”

An explosion rattles the ground, and your mind is back on the situation. Your tongue moves around your mouth hopelessly, trying to form the one name you need, the one that will help you without a second thought, the one you—

Slurring Law’s name, you no longer feel your feet beneath you, but instead the ground on your cheek. You didn’t feel the impact. Dirt clumps with sticky blood, and you feel your body relax. It’s nice to finally lie down.

You’ll wait here for Law. He’ll come and find you. He has to.

Your eyes roll to the back of your head, but you wear a smile. Law, Law, Law.

— Scene 10 —

You wake, though you don’t open your eyes.

Law knows you’re awake, and you know he knows this, yet neither of you says a word.

There’s no pain in your shoulder when you shift, finding yourself on your back, and you could cry at the mere thought that he found you.

It isn’t until a tear drips from the corner of your eye into your ear that Law speaks up.

“What the fuck were you thinking?” His voice is soft, but you sense the malice in this timbre.

One drips into your other ear. It’s a steady stream of salty water that soon turns into sobs, ones that rack your shoulders and burn your chest. A sensation you haven’t felt since you found Luffy in the forest on Amazon Lily.

“I’m sorry,” You whisper, your voice breaking. Law makes no sound. “I’m sorry.”

“You have no sense of self-preservation.”

He’s mad.

“Do you have any idea what would’ve happened if I hadn’t found you? If I hadn’t returned to the ship and realised you were taking much longer than planned? Fuck, you were minutes away from death.”

You sniffle, hiccuping. “I’m sorry.”

Law sighs hashly. “I know you are. Stop saying it.”

Opening your eyes, you’re met with the ceiling. The same ceiling you woke up to on your first time here, and the one that keeps seeing you fall apart.

“Law…” You peer over at him, your tears increasing when you see him sitting so close to the bed. You’re so happy to see him. “I was so scared.”

You can hear him swallow from where you lay, his jaw set and gaze averted. You smile when you see his expression—you called it.

“I knew you’d look like this.” The laugh you let out is rough, your throat raw. “You were the last thing I thought of.”

Law shakes his head and stands, giving you his back. “Don’t say shit like that.”

“I kept thinking about how disappointed you’d be that I didn’t get to the skull, that I didn’t find the Poneglyph—”

“I don’t care about the Poneglyph!” He spins around so quickly you barely see it. “I care about you!”

Your bottom lip quivers and more tears roll down your cheeks. You wait for him to continue, too shocked to speak.

“Do you know how close I was to losing it when I had to take that bullet out of you?” He yells. “When I found out it was poisoned? When I had to extract the poison from your body?”

“I didn’t know it was poisoned.”

“Of course you didn't,” He laughs bitterly. “You were too busy dying to know.”

You bite the inside of your cheek. “I’m sorry.”

“You’ve been in that bed, unconscious for eight days,” Law says your name with such pain that when your eyes focus on his face again, you see his glassy eyes. “You had ninety-four souls in Seam. How did you do that?”

Ninety-four…

“What?” You ask before realising what he’s saying, not even comprehending the fact you were unconscious for eight days. “How can you see inside Seam?”

“That’s not important—”

“It is! Tell me.”

Law sighs. “I can move incorporeal things, like souls; it’s how I switch people between bodies,” He explains. You store that little morsel of information for later, but now, you’re more fascinated with the fact that he can see your mindscape. “You had a lot of souls inside you. I can’t see into Seam, just the presence of these souls. But are you crazy? Ninety-four? That wouldn’t have helped with your injury. I’m surprised you didn’t pass out before you got shot.”

Law’s rambling and you fear he may start to spiral if he hasn’t already.

You let out a weak sound. “Law…”

“Fuck,” He curses. “I’ve never prayed to a god until I saw you on the ground, bleeding out. You terrified me.”

You’re going to be sick. You forget about Seam and try to push yourself up but quickly collapse when you lean on the wrong arm because what does he mean by that?

He’s at war with himself as runs his hands through his hair. “Why would you not come back to the ship when you got shot?”

“Because I had to get to the Poneglyph for you.”

Law scoffs, though the sound is not nearly as daunting as it normally is; instead, it’s sad. “Don’t you dare put your life in danger for me.”

It’s your turn to scoff, and you finally get the strength to sit up. “Don’t tell me what to do.”

“When it’s for my sake, then yes, I can. I’m not worth your pain or your death.”

You swing your legs out of the bed, standing on shaky knees.

Law’s eyes widen slightly. “Lay back down; you’re going to fall.”

“No,” You say, pointing your finger into his chest. “Don’t tell me what to do. Listen to me.”

Law purses his lips, his eyes flickering down to where you jab him with your index finger.

“You’re my crew, okay?” You know it sounds pathetic, but Law makes no move to ridicule you. “And I’d do anything for the people I love, even if that requires me to put my life in danger. So don’t stand there and tell me you’re not worth it when you mean more to me than you can imagine.”

“That’s foolish,” Law whispers. Your thumping heart stops, and when you look up at him, a single tear runs down his cheek. You reach up to wipe it away, your thumb soft on his skin. You keep your hand on his cheek.

“I’d do it a hundred times if it would help you reach your goal.”

Law swallows thickly. “I don’t know what I would’ve done if I hadn’t found you one time, let alone a hundred times.”

“You would’ve gone on with your crew and defeated all four Emperors and Doflamingo. I’m just someone you picked up on a whim.”

You know it’s a lie.

Law chokes on a laugh, though there’s no humour.

“You know that’s not true,” He spits. “I can’t do this without you knowing I know what it feels like with you. I hope you know that.”

“Law…”

“I care for you,” Law mumbles, his tone harsh while he presses your palm to his cheek. “I can’t lose you, too, which is why you can’t keep putting yourself in these positions.”

There’s far more to this than you know, and it breaks your heart to find out he’s been through this before.

“You’ve made this hell worth it. Everything I’ve done until now has brought me to you, and I’ll be damned if I let you hurt yourself to keep me happy, okay?”

You curse yourself when you start crying again. You can’t pinpoint when the ringing in your ears started, but it makes the world tilt. Laughter spills out of you unwillingly.

Law scowls, his vulnerable expression turning cold. He’s about to push you away. “I’m not talking to you if you’re going to mock me. I know I’m a heartless bastard, but I’m not joking.”

You pull him back to you with your good arm. “Why would I mock you? Come here, you idiot.”

He stares at you a little longer, his hand resting on your cheek. Law’s gorgeous; you’ve known this since you first laid eyes on him. But seeing him so vulnerable flips a switch inside you. It’s gentle, the kiss you press to his cheek, and it’s pink, the blush high on his cheekbones.

“I’m not going anywhere,” You say. “I’ll remain with you until you want me gone.”

“I’ll never want you gone,” He whispers, and your heart breaks. You smile, tears rolling into your mouth.

“Kiss me,” You say, reaching for him. Law meets you halfway, his other hand on your cheek as he brings his lips to yours.

The first peck is cautious, and Law runs his tongue along his bottom lip while you wrap your hands around his neck, pulling his chest flush against yours. Your shoulder is numb, and it’s probably for the best that Law forgets about your injury when, with red cheeks and a hell of a lot more confidence, he kisses you again.

“You know what this means?” Law whispers against your mouth, your salty tears mixing together.

You exhale through your nose, your fingers playing with the hair on the nape of his neck before they slide higher, your hands gripping larger chunks. “What?”

He leans in for another kiss, this one lasting longer than the previous, and when you pull away, he chases after you. Law looks at you, his eyes smiling and half-lidded with desire.

He brings you closer to him, his fingers brushing stray hairs away from your face. You giggle, pressing your lips to his cheeks and chin as he admires you.

“It means,” Another peck. “That you’re my crew, too.”

“Shut up.” You exhale a laugh and shake your head.

Your lips glide over his, and both of your lips slightly chapped. You smile with giddiness, your teeth lightly knocking Law’s.

“Quit smiling so much,” He mumbles, kissing the corner of your mouth.

You don’t apologise. “I’m so happy.”

Law drops his head to lean his forehead against yours. “Yeah, me too.”

“I’m sorry about what I did,” You say, pushing the hair on his forehead back. He shakes his head. “I’m sorry for making you worry.”

“I’ll always worry about you,” Law presses his mouth to your forehead before moving his hands down to the sides of your neck. “No use telling me not to.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Stop saying sorry.”

You catch yourself before you do it again.

Law wraps his arms around you, pulling you into his chest. You close your eyes, tightening your hold. His heart pounds underneath your ear, and he trembles softly.

“What’s wrong?”

“You’re going to be the death of me.”

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I think this is everyone! If I missed you, and/or you want to be notified when Act III is posted, please comment below or send me an ask!!

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