#do you think he was planning this out when he was getting his dick sewed on?

[beetlesanbutterflies]

How do you think Creature proposed? I know we see part of it in the film but i'm sitting her kicking my feet thinking about them running back to the room and Lisa is ready to go, and Creature suddenly stops and she's confused and asks him what's wrong. Is the stitching bad? Does he need another round in the tanning bed? Did he change his mind?

And he just stands there staring at her trying to think of how to convey that he loves her so much and no matter what happens to them, they will not share the same fate of going to the grave unmarried. and in the middle of Lisa trying to decipher all of this he just grabs her bag of peach rings and gets on one knee.

[long-live-astronerd-ghost-king]

DPXDC prompt: Friendly neighborhood forensic pathologist Danny Fenton is a new master of The Court of Owls? (Dead on main, of course) +Part 2: Talon Dick

Don’t underestimate what a ghost will do for a higher education. You see, it's the custom of the Fenton family not to run away from things they are afraid of but to face their fear. So Danny Fenton, who has learned to fear scalpels, steel clamps and surgical retractors, decides to do something about it and to dedicate his life to giving souls of those who died a violent death the final rest and justice they deserve.

Well, it didn’t really come to him at once. It started out as a simple joke:

Danny didn’t think he could continue his education after school. Frankly, his grades suck. However, Tucker for fun applied for a scholarship for gifted villains from Gotham University on his behalf.

And hell, they are willing to pay money for his education. Pay in full! Living in Park Row is also incredibly cheap. And with his flying ability, he’ll also save on transportation.

Danny is not a villain. And he’s not planning on becoming one. But he couldn’t lose that chance.

Why do you deserve this scholarship? “My parents are renowned ecto scientists, and I’ve seen their dissection work at its best. Medical school is expensive, and this scholarship will help me accomplish my goal of becoming a forensic pathologist and helping maintain the boundary between the world of the living and the world of the dead…or use it for my own ends. Of course.”

Well, Mr Two-Face was fully confident that despite his grades in the subjects, Danny was fully committed to achieving high academic achievement. Finally, work experience of Dan came in handy somewhere.

There were only few things about the death that Danny didn’t find on his own or from his ghost friends, so he managed to graduate in record time. Young Fenton thought he was lucky enough to get a job near Crime Alley. It was odd that the job was available. Even a new specialist like him was allowed to work full-time. And the salary was very decent.

~~~~~~

Danny: Yes, Jazz, everything is just fine. I found a great job and I’m trying to relax and find a hobby, you know. Started feeding the local birds. Apparently they were abused, the poor things are so shy and aggressive.

The local birds:

~~~~~~

Let’s say that a returned Jason as undead cannot be killed for forever. The stab wounds heal quickly, the bullet holes sometimes itch unpleasantly for a few days, but in general his regeneration is at a level with some metahumans. This is convenient. But when Red Hood wakes up in the morgue after a particularly severe injury, he’s not happy. Sometimes even looking in the mirror at his dissection scar is difficult for him. And this situation is a fucking nightmare. Danny: Oh. Are you awake now? I’m sorry I didn’t have time to put you on the couch, I didn’t have clean sheets and my assistant would have killed me because of the new stains. Red Hood: What the hell? I’m sorry?! It’s fucked up! I’d love to see you wake up on the dissection table. Danny: Been there Done that. But hey, I didn’t put you there. You didn’t get here on my shift, give me a break.

Jason: …So, what's now? Danny: Well, I can offer you tea or coffee. Of course, only after I sew up the hole in your stomach and give you a change of clothes. Or I could go after the documents and pretend I didn’t notice one of my bodies got away. But then don’t dream about novocaine blockade. Pretty liver by the way, you don’t see that much in crime lords. Jason: Um, thank you? But you’re weird. Usually people are praised for the beauty of the face or eyes rather than… Danny: Wow, now I feel attacked.You wake up in your helmet. I can’t compliment what I can’t see. Jason: Gee, I’m surprised your colleague hasn’t taken it off yet. Danny: And lose important evidence? It is not customary for us to put curiosity above professionalism.

~~~~~

Jason learns quickly that although Batman is willing to go anywhere to track him, there are always exceptions to the rule. The morgue was one of them. Not surprisingly, the emotional constipation and uncomfortable theme of Jason’s death worked like a perfect bat repeller. Over time, Jason becomes really interested in a guy who genuinely laughs at his death jokes and listens to his problems at work without judgment. Danny is too cute and nice.

Danny*works*: No visitors allowed here.

Jason: Unless you are a zombie, right?

Danny:...Still not one of your hideouts. The book is where you left it, make some tea if you want it.

~~~~~

Jason, once again delivered without a sign of life to Danny after the fight, woke up during pupillary reflex test.

Jason: Oh, beauty, you are just dazzling today.

Danny: As I thought, your regeneration didn’t cure your concussion before your resurrection. I’ll give you referrals for all the tests and examinations. And we really should stop seeing each other like this. Please take care of yourself.

Jason: I don’t think you have the right to prescribe them to me. Danny: Technically I do not. But we live in Gotham. And for some time the hospital where I work at night is very sensitive to my requests.

Red Hood: And why? Danny: It’s hard to explain… Red Hood: Doctor Handsome, I’ve been through some shit, so try to surprise me. Danny: Okay, okay. Look, you are a crime lord for not too long, right? But criminals and cops are afraid of you and kids and your henchmen really likes you. Jason: ..So what? Danny: Can you please recommend how to maintain a reputation but so your people aren’t afraid of you? Jason: Why do you need this information? Your assistant finally realized you’re friends with walking corpses? Danny: It’s not about that! Although, like.. you aren’t wrong? It’s complicated. I may, well, accidentally, honestly, have seized power over a local secret aristocratic criminal society.

Jason: Baby, please tell me everything. I have a restaurant as a front for a business nearby. It’s a date. Let's go. Danny: Let me finish a few stitches first, Jay.

~~~~~

Red Hood and Red Robin fight near Batman: Hood: Replacement was on patrol without permission! Red Robin: And Jason is dating the new owner of Court of Owls! Batman:.. he's doing WHAT? Jason, how could you take such a risk? it is completely unprofessional and Red Hood: At least he loves me for what’s inside me! Red Robin: Yeah, like a beautiful liver. It’s a great relationship base. Red Hood: I’m talking about my feelings and interests. Dumb lil stalker with a big mouth! I’ll teach you not to bother my boyfriend.

~~~~~

Henchman: Boss. We shouldn’t go into that area, the rumors are that there are Talons here. Red Hood: All under control, they won’t touch us. Henchman: How can you be sure? The poem says 'Beware The Court of Owls, that watches all the time, ruling Gotham from a shadow..' Red Hood: Yeah yeah "speak not a whispered word of them or they'll send The Talon for your head". I’m sleeping with their boss, of course I’m sure. Henchman: Boss, don’t kid like that. Red Hood: I don’t pay you for gossip. Let's go.

Dick, to whom the memories began to return, haunts Jason because he did not cut for Lil Wing apple slices like he likes for lunch: Talon came to finish the job. Henchmen: scream

~~~~~

Jason *shows Danny 'Red Flags' on youtube*: Hey, baby, want to be a little shit on our date? I know where Brucie Wayne’s having dinner tonight, so you can meet the family.

[happy74827]

One Call Away

[Wade Wilson x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: During one of his "jobs," Deadpool gets a call from his favorite gal [GIF Creds: jdsheart]

WC: 1970

Category: Fluff, Major Comedy {TW: Deadpool’s Humor/Nonfiltered Personality}

This man is so hard to write. I’m always stressing the noggin when it comes to planning and plotting 😔

『••✎••』

"And away we go..."

One neck crack and a couple of hip twists later, he was off like Aladdin and his fucktoy carpet, scaling the building similarly to a chameleon on LSD.

The only thing that was missing was some epic music.

He'd been chasing this baddie around the city for almost two days now. Some big-shot mob boss with ties to Hydra, or the Mafia, or the Yakuza, or some other three-letter-acronym organization. It was hard to keep track of them all at this point. They were all the same, except for the name.

They all had their own agenda.

Kill him, keep him prisoner, pay him off...

Wade never cared enough to listen because it was always the same. He just got hired to do the dirty work, and the pay was good.

The killing was better.

This one, however, was particularly good at eluding him. He'd been trying to get his hands on this man for a few days now. It wasn't as though he was trying to be stealthy or anything, either. He'd walked right up to his front door, knocked, and was greeted with a spray of machine gun bullets.

So, the usual.

But then the guy ran and didn't stop. It was like the fucking Roadrunner met Sonic the Hedgehog, and they decided to fuck around and find out.

Wade was getting real sick and tired of being a Roadrunner, too. He had a reputation to uphold. He wasn't known as the Merc with the Mouth for nothing. He was supposed to be the one doing the running and the killing.

Not the other way around.

Finally, finally, he managed to reach the roof where the guy was currently taking cover behind a small brick shack. The sun was rising, but it was still dark, and there were a couple of floodlights shining on the rooftop. It made him think of the night he'd had that heart-to-heart with Blind Al, even though all she really wanted was for him to bring her some of that special brownie mix.

What a night that had been.

But anyway, this monologue is starting to get too long, and we should probably move things along, eh?

Right.

So, the baddie.

His name was something long and non-English.

Salvatore, or Santino, or Salvation... Whatever the fuck it was, it didn't really matter. What mattered was that it was time to make him dead.

He stepped around the corner and was met with a spray of bullets, all of which lodged themselves into his Kevlar vest.

"Oh, come on!" he yelled over the sound of the gunfire. "This is real leather, you know. I'm tired of all the offscreen sewing and shit."

When the spray finally ended, he took a moment to catch his breath.

"…ow," he whispered to himself.

"You shouldn't have followed me here," the man said.

"Yeah, whatever," Deadpool replied. "Look, I'll make this easy for you. You drop down and give me fifty, and I'll let you keep that hideous mustache you're sporting."

The man's eyes widened in surprise.

"It's not that bad, is it?"

"Yes, yes it is," Deadpool assured him. "You got a squirrel living in it or something?"

"It's just a little bit of gray, you dick," the man argued. "What about you? What's with the mask? Are you hiding a mustache under there, too, or something? Maybe some acne scars?"

Deadpool shook his head and stepped forward, his guns drawn.

"Don't come any closer!"

"You know, this would be much more intimidating if you didn't look like a cartoon mouse."

"Stop it with the mustache!"

"Alright, alright," Deadpool said. "Enough with the mustache. But what is it about your hairline? I can't put my finger on it."

The man sighed in exasperation and pulled out his pistol, aiming it right at Deadpool's face.

"Hey now, don't point that at me," Deadpool scolded him. "That's not a very nice thing to do."

He ignored him and pulled the trigger, a loud boom ringing out as the bullet fired. It whizzed by him but missed its mark.

"You really are a dick," He grumbled before aiming his gun right between the man's eyes. And he was going to shoot, honest.

He really was.

But then his phone rang, and he was well-reminded of the current song playing through his head.

I'm a buff baby that can dance like a man. I can shake-ah my fanny, I can shake-ah my can!

Needless to say, he was distracted.

He lowered his gun and looked down at his pocket, where his phone was still ringing and still vibrating against his leg.

"Shit, hold that thought," He said to the guy, and he holstered his gun.

"Wh-what the hell are you doing?!"

Deadpool put his finger up to shush him before pulling his phone out of his pocket to answer it.

If you're an evil witch, I’ll punch you for fu—

"Heyyyy," he said in a sing-songy voice, "you've reached the phone sex hotline. For kinks and fetishes, press one. For booty calls, press two. For your favorite mercenary, press three."

"Ey, pendejo—" His opponent started, but he cut him off by snapping and raising his finger.

"Cut it, Tuco Salamanca. Breaking Bad called and wants its meth-cooking mustache back."

"Wha-I-you-"

"Anyways, this is your favorite merc speaking. Who do I have the pleasure of speaking with?"

"Is this a bad time?"

Wade's eyes widened in shock, and his jaw dropped open when he heard her voice on the other end of the line.

"Baby girl! Is that you? Oh, how I've missed your voice. It's like hearing an angel, or an angelic chorus, or a whole bunch of angels, but you're the most important one. Like, the lead singer or something."

"I literally saw you last night." Your voice was always drenched with the most amazing kind of sarcasm, and he'd missed it.

"And?"

"It's only been a few hours."

"And?"

"That's a short amount of time."

"And?"

You sighed, but he knew you weren't really annoyed.

"Anyways, you sounded busy," you continued, "so I'll just let you go."

"What?! No! Don't hang up!" He shouted into the receiver. "I've only fiddled with my pistols! Nothing interesting is happening right now!"

"Your pistols, huh?" You asked a hint of mischief in your voice.

"Well, yeah. They're the most important part of the mission, you know."

In the corner of his eye, he could see his target making his way towards the edge of the building. Quickly and efficiently, without dropping his attention from his conversation with you, he lifted his gun and fired a shot at the man's knee.

"Ah, fuck!" the man screamed in pain. "My knee!"

"Hey! Language!" Deadpool scolded him. "The lady of the house is listening!"

"Lady of the- what the fuck?!"

"I said language, you mustachioed rat!"

"Mustachioed rat?" You asked.

"Sorry, babe," he replied. "You know how excited I get when Downtown Abbey is on."

“There’s gunshots in Downtown Abbey?"

"Gunshots? Oh, no, no. That was… uh, a car alarm. Yeah, the neighbor's car alarm was going off."

"Uh-huh," you said, not sounding very convinced. And, of course, that was right around the time the guy's gun went off again, this time hitting him square in the shoulder. It made the phone fall out of his hand and clatter onto the ground, but the call was still connected.

"Dammit!" He yelled, looking at the fresh blood dripping down his arm. "That's gonna take forever to heal!"

"Who are you talking to?" The man demanded, his gun still aimed at Deadpool's face. "You're working with someone?"

"Hey, now, I don't remember giving you permission to talk," Deadpool told him, holding his bloody arm up to his face. "Look, I've gotta call you back, babe. I know it's been so heartbreakingly long—"

"Again, only a few hours," you said.

"—but duty calls. Love you, bye."

"Love you, bye."

With that, the line disconnected.

"Ugh," he groaned, his heart aching for the loss of your sweet voice. "I miss her already."

"Ey," his opponent growled, drawing his attention. He started speaking in rapid-fire Spanish, which Deadpool didn't really understand, but he didn't have to. The guy was just ranting and raving.

"Alright, alright, chill," Deadpool said. "Just calm down. It’ll all be over soon, little buddy."

"I am not little! I am a giant!" The guy protested, and Wade could practically see the steam coming out of his ears. "And I will not chill!"

"Well, can't argue with that, I guess," Deadpool said with a shrug, and he took aim. But before he could pull the trigger, the guy was running again.

"Hey, what did I tell you about running?!" He yelled, but his voice fell on deaf ears as the guy reached the ledge.

"I am a giant!"

"No, you're a giant asshat!"

"I will not be bested by some masked buffoon!"

"Buff? Me? Why, I never!"

"You're the biggest asshole I've ever met!"

"You know what? I am a big ass! A big, round, bubbly ass." He paused for a second. "Hey, what's your favorite flavor?"

"Fuck you, you red-clad imbecile!"

"You know, I'd ask you out to dinner first, but we're kinda past that now."

"Argh!"

"Alright, enough stalling," Deadpool said. "It's time to end this."

"Yes," the guy said, turning his gun back on Deadpool. "It is."

Of course, Deadpool being the smart-ass he was, he'd already taken a step to the side. As the bullet whizzed past him, he reached for his gun.

"Now, where did I put that thing? Oh, there it is."

He aimed the gun and fired, and the man fell back onto the ground. The bullet hit him right in the middle of his forehead, his blood splattering all over the concrete.

"Ha ha! Fatality. Deadpool wins!" He said, his voice taking on the deep, grounded tone of the narrator from Mortal Kombat. "Flawless Victory."

He stood over the body for a few seconds, reveling in his victory, before he felt the presence of another.

The gun on his right side got ripped from its holster, and the barrel was aimed back into his face, as it always seems to be.

But, he already sensed it was coming, so his fingers wrapped around his other and aimed that right in the golden spot… and let’s just say, The Golden Girls was a little less golden and a lot more crimson.

"Wow, this has got to be a record," He said as he bent down to stare at the new one’s anguish. "Two dead ugly mustaches in the same day. You can call me Sweeney Todd because shit… I just shaved you the fuck up."

He didn’t give the poor bastard a chance to even whimper before he fired another two shots into the man's head. All in all, this had been the easiest payday he'd had in a while.

He picked up his cell phone and slipped it back into its pocket before bending down and scooping up the mustache man's pistol.

"Ooh, lookie here, a nice, shiny new pistol," he said to himself. "Just what I've always wanted. Well, I don't actually need it. It's not like I have any other holes in my body, but you know what they say. The more the merrier."

He stuffed the gun in his holster and turned around, heading back the way he'd come.

"Time to get back to the good stuff," he said. "I have a date with my favorite girl."

He hopped up onto the ledge and looked down, his eyes locking on the window to his apartment.

And when he arrived, bloody and battered, you could only smile while holding up little ole Mary Puppins in all her drooling glory.

God, how he missed his girls.

[annievrse]

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.”

Taglist:

@fandomhoe101 / @valen-yamyam16 / @chibinasuu / @xsuvs / @curiositycoven64 / @chillerkiller / @loserbee14 / @theloserqueen / @meritxellao / @mirtiell / @dreamistsblog

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!!

[cheshirebitch]

Alastor x Reader

𝔸𝕞 𝕀 𝕪𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕝𝕚𝕥𝕥𝕝𝕖 𝕤𝕖𝕔𝕣𝕖𝕥? pt 2

( part 1 here ) ( part 3 here )

 Husk was the first to notice me, since we both thought I was going to die. 

“Oh (Y/n) you son of a bitch!” Angel grabbed me tightly into a hug, squeezing the air out of my lungs. Charlie ran up with Vaggie tailing her.

“How did you do it?” Vaggie and Charlie asked at the same time. Husk looked over and barked out, “How did she do what? Because she saved him and she also somehow saved herself from Boss Man’s wrath.” He took a swig of his drink, eyeing me suspiciously. I knew he was going to pamper me with a million questions later. 

“Well, I just offered Vox information that sounded valuable in a state of dire quick thinking. Sure, he can be smart, but not on the spot. It was simply a trick play of environment and temptation.” After all, isn’t that what I’m good at? 

“What was the info you gave?” Curiosity got the best of Angel. I smiled before pressing a finger to my lips.

“Can’t spill. Even if I wanted to.” A red magic spread across my face where it looked like my mouth was sewed shut. Angel recognized it from when he saw my chains appear before. 

“Oh doll…” Pity. A look of pity is all I received and it made my chest tighten. My eyes scanned quickly over everyone. Everyone had the look of pity. I wiped the magic off before laughing dryly. “I have my ways around it obviously.” I waved them off. I don’t need their pity. I chose this. I just regret it lately. Alastor wasn’t always this closed off, at least not to me. We used to share almost everything. It was us against the world until he left me alone in it, twice.

“So, I take it we pissed off the Vee’s?” Vaggie stated as she looked at me and Charlie. She was holding up her phone that had Velvette’s recent social media post explicitly saying that Hell was about to freeze over.

“Well, it did give us the chance to actually redeem Angel Dust.” 

“Everything comes with a price though, Charlie.” I alluded to what was to come. The battles I can see happening here in the future are enough to worry me on what’s to come. The future is so unsettled on what can happen right now that I can only see small things and not the big picture. I felt a tightness in my chest again. 

“Stand straight darling.” Alastor smoothly spoke behind me as he pushed his hand against the small of my back and drifted up to make my spine straighten. I hate how he only gets on my case about that when Husk literally has a hunch back at this point. Deep breaths (Y/n). Deep breaths.

“Thanks sir.” I said through gritted teeth. Alastor flinched slightly at how I called him sir and how tightly I said it. He looked at me as if asking with his eyes, What is your problem? I couldn’t help but shift my jaw tighter. I squinted my eyes, You’re the problem dick. He clenched his jaw as well and pressed his hand harder into the small of my back, any harder and he would be pushing me. Somehow though, I noticed how his presence made the tightness in my chest go away. Despite the fact we were arguing through our eyes. Charlie turned towards Alastor, dragging our conversation to a quick halt. 

“What should we do in preparation?” She was mostly looking at me and not Alastor which made my once annoyed face into a smug one. They are looking towards me for leadership now. I warned you Al, don’t play with fire. After all, you are the reason I’m down in this mess anyway.

“We need to cover all our bases and make it seem like we aren’t even worried about whatever they are doing, and continue business as normal. Alastor and I will cover the rest. Just watch each other and don’t leave without a partner for a little while.” He seemed to relish in the fact I still sounded like I needed him. I can’t help but feel like he loves that feeling, even if he left me and still won’t tell me anything anymore. 

After spilling plans with Charlie and the team on what our next moves should be, I dismissed myself towards a separate room. I know he can feel the slight anger during our whole interaction because he swiftly follows me. 

“Yes, Alastor?” He smiled wider with his stupid half lidded eyes. But my god do I always melt- stop it. You’re mad, remember? How could he keep playing with your feelings? It's like these seven years took everything we built between each other and ripped it to shreds as if we were never anything. Were we though? 

“Inner battles dear?” I wish he would let that cheesy smile slip once or at least make it look sincere again. 

“You tell me. You’re the one who kicked me out of my own room.” He hummed playfully as I scrunched my face in anger.

“Well, since you’re my pet, it’s also my room.” That cocky motherf-

“We need to talk, Alastor. I want to begin the negotiation of my contract coming up soon.” A slip, his eyes screamed worry but then it was gone. Bingo.

“Renewing it again? We both know you will.” My smile matched his which unnerved him slightly.

“Remind me why again. If I remember correctly, you abandoned me for seven years, won’t talk to me anymore, and have been acting weird lately. You aren’t the Alastor I signed my soul away to.” I seethed. He was holding his jaw so tight I thought he was about to crack his teeth. I leaned closer, almost on my tippy toes to get in his face, his head looked down at me. I saw a glimpse of those eyes he used to give me. The eyes he would stare at me with while I listened to him talk for hours. Then they were replaced with a slight hurt. He opened his mouth, his smile quivering as he thought of the right words.

“There you are! Nifty got stuck in the toilet again, can you help us get her out?” Charlie spoke loudly. Everything I was about to get, all the answers, just…

…gone.

The feeling of overwhelming… EVERYTHING. I wanted to yell at Charlie. 

Why can’t you just wait? Fuck Charlie, you just ruined everything.

Alastor quickly fixed all the vulnerabilities he had and proclaimed, “Well of course! What type of help would I be around here if I didn’t?” I watched him walk away with Charlie, a hurt look that he caught when he glanced back. 

His smile faltered quick enough for me to see it. His eyes glanced at Charlie as if trying to tell me something before he fixed his behavior and carried on as normal with her when she looked back at him. They swiftly walked out as I was left in the entertainment room. 

Alastor, what did you do?

Husk was at the bar cleaning glasses from Angel and Cherri Bomb’s celebration. Swirling around my drink, wishing I didn’t drink as much as I did. I will hand it to Angel and Cherri for having such a persuasive way with drinking. My hair was slightly messy, my normal pantsuit switched out to my comfy clothes, and my eyes looked tired. 

“You finally going to admit you had too much yet?” Husk chuckled out. I chuckled back before I sipped the rest of my drink down quickly. The glass hitting the counter answered Husk instead, and the sound of it sliding down to him as I smiled at him.

“Nope.” I taunted back. He shook his head, pouring more into my cup, and gently sat in front of me. I stared at it for a little while before Husk sighed and piped up, “Penny for your thoughts?” He knew I loved it when he said the sayings I normally do. Made me feel like we really are real friends, despite the situation we are both in. 

“Well, I think I have a theory on what has Alastor… different.” I was careful with my choice of words as Husk eyed me. He knew I was never going to let this new Alastor last long. I mean Husk even was starting to get treated more like a dog rather than someone who helps Alastor with a slight rough friendship. Hard to believe we were all friends once. 

“Continue?” Husk poured himself a matching drink as he watched me intensely. This isn’t something I would bring out loud unless I had some sort of evidence pointing towards it. I shuffled my hands around before stealing a quick sip of my drink.

“I think Alastor made a deal he regrets but can’t talk about.” 

(Part 3...?)

(Lore buildingggg I promise next update will have one question answered. Can you guess which one? As always all characters and world belongs to the respected owners <3 story belongs to me. Tagged who I could! Thank you for loving the first one!)

(Should I add the songs that inspire the writing?)

TAG LIST: @immortal-ries @kat-nee @shybananabagellover @tiedyedghoulette @alyslovesflowers @seven709 @vixie--21 @montis-posts @trashbin-nie @sh3sa1dwhat @for-hearthand-home @funtimefreddynaofficial @jyoongim @eviebuggg

[concerningwolves]

Talking of folklore that really demonstrates the "people have always been people" thing, I think I've just found a new favourite example of this. It's an absurd little tale that's really fun for its content, but – and here's what made me jump on Tumblr to gleefully share the story – I am fairly certain there is a dick joke.

It's fairly common to find tales of churches that couldn't be built because the devil (or, rarely, fairies) would move the stones and undo any progress on the construction. With St. Trinian's in Crosby, Isle of Man, a buggane takes this role, and brings down the roof of the church every time it's nearly completed. For some absolute bonkers reason, a tailor called Timothy decided to sit in the church and sew a pair of breeches. It's unclear if he just needed a place to sit (and couldn't work at home? Where the roof isn't habitually wrecked by a terrifying sprite?), or if this was some plan to exorcise the buggane, or.... I don't know, really. Point is, Timothy sat there sewing as fast as he could, ignoring the buggane as it tried to scare him off – and finished the breeches and leapt out of the church just as the roof collapsed. The buggane then chased him until he ran onto consecrated ground, where the buggane couldn't enter. At which point the buggane removed its own head and threw it at Timothy, "where it exploded like a bomb shell". The story gleefully reports that Timothy survives unscathed. It does not tell us if the buggane survives, scathed or otherwise. This is apparently why the church has no roof.

Okay, so now we've established the totally balls to the wall narrative, here's the promised dick joke:

See, when the buggane is trying to frighten Timothy, it emerges out of the ground. First its head appears, and it asks "Do you see my great head, large eyes and long teeth?". Then its torso emerges, and it asks "Do you see my great body, large hands and long nails?". And finally, when its whole body emerges, it asks "Do you see my great limbs, large feet, and long..." But it doesn't get a chance to finish, because Timothy puts the last stitch in the breeches and escapes the church just as the roof collapses. And sure, there are other things that could go after that "long" (legs, perhaps), but I can so so clearly picture a guy several mugs deep, telling this story and just pausing on the looooong, probably making a suitable gesture, before slamming his mug onto the table to indicate that the church roof has collapsed.

[klbwriting]

Not Romeo, Not Juliet

Chapter 8: With My Eyes

Fandom: Red Hood

Pairing: Jason Todd x f!reader

Warnings: mentions of blood and stitches

Summary: Jason goes to YN for help after being shot, then Dick finds them

Notes: this is so angsty and fluffy and amazing, I am loving writing this, I hope you're all liking it, and I'm realizing it might be longer than planned, might have to go passed the Shakespeare competition, not sure yet, let me know how you feel about it! Also song is 'Stick Season' by Noah Kahan

I would my father look’d but with my eyes.

— A MIDSUMMER NIGHT'S DREAM, ACT 1 SCENE 1

It was late when Jason got to YN’s door but considering he was still bleeding from a bullet wound he didn’t care. He knocked, louder than necessary probably, the door opening a minute later, YN standing there with a large knife. Good, she knew better than to not have a weapon this late at night. Jason had stowed his gear in his bag in the alley by the apartment building, he would have to explain the gunshot to YN, but better that than explaining the whole Red Hood thing. She stared at him for a moment before seeing the blood dripping from his side.

“Jason…” she said, voice hitching a little, pulling him inside. “Um, ya, um, kitchen floor.” She scrambled to get an old blanket, setting it down on the floor and getting him a pillow, leaning it against the cabinets. He leaned against it, hearing her scrambling around the rest of the place, coming back with pills, a medicine kit, needle and thread.

“You think I need stitches again?” he asked. She stared at him.

“Every time you show up bloody you need stitches, I’m just prepared at this point,” she said, trying to make light of the situation, but her face was pale, and Jason assumed his pallor was similar. She gave him some pain pills first this time before having him peel his shirt off. “There has to be easier ways to get you to take your clothes off for me…” she muttered, and he barked out a laugh, this hissed in pain. “Hold still, I’m going to sew up the back first, lean forward.” He did as asked, head leaning against his knees. He heard her fumbling with the needle, dropping it once, her breathing staggered. He started to breathe deep and after a minute she started doing to same, mimicking his breath. “Are you ready?”

“Ya, go ahead YN, I trust you,” he said softly. She put a hand to his back, and he felt calm at the touch. He did trust her. It wasn’t something he was super familiar with anymore, considering how things ended with Bruce, how he had been abandoned and replaced. Even Alfred hadn’t bothered to do anything about his death, just moved on. Dick had cared but Jason could see the strain dealing with him was having on his brother. He was trying, he really was, but he couldn’t just sit still. He couldn’t force himself into that box of being a normal teenager. He was full of rage against those who would hurt people he cared about, and full of desire to help people, to make things better. Not Batman better, but for real better. He knew Dick wouldn’t like what he was doing, but he didn’t care anymore, not when he had YN. She was worth protecting, she was worth making this neighborhood better for. Everything felt better in him when he felt her hand, gently holding his back while she stitched him, her voice soft as it sang a random song to keep herself steady.

“I’m done with the back, can you lie on your back? I’m sorry if it hurts,” she said softly. He moved himself and she set the pillow down so he could lay his head on it. She disinfected the entrance wound, still not asking about it, focusing on stitching him instead. He watched her, noticing how her eyes were focused, her hair gently falling down the side of her face. He reached up and tucked it behind her ear just before she started. “No distracting me,” she said, voice soft but firm.

“Right, sorry, just wanted to look at you,” he said. The blush that hit her cheeks made him smile as she poked the needle in him. She went back to muttering a song again, one she had told him to listen to. He had listened and joined in when he realized where she was, she stopped just listening to him now.

So I thought that if I piled something good on all my bad That I could cancel out the darkness I inherited from dad

She smiled, joining him again as she finished, putting another bandage on his stomach, looking at him. Instead of stopping he just kept singing, her joining him as they stared at each other.

And I’ll dream each night of some version of you That I might not have, but I did not lose Now you’re tire tracks and one pair of shoes And I’m split in half, but that’ll have to do Oh, that’ll have to do My other half is you…

They both stopped, realizing they both had changed the words to the song. Jason leaned up on his elbows a little, ignoring the pain in abs. YN reached out and touched his face, tracing the scar on his cheek that she had stitched up.

“Jason…” she whispered, her voice the most angelic sound he had ever heard. He loved when she said his name. She leaned towards him and he pushed himself up more to meet her, just about to feel her lips on his, when the door burst open. Jason threw the knife he had in his pants pocket before he saw who was there, YN falling back to sit against the cabinets. Dick was lucky his reflexes were so good or he would have at least had a scar matching Jason’s.

“What are you doing here?” Dick asked, looking from YN to Jason and then to the blood on the kitchen floor. “What happened?” Jason stood slowly, YN helping him. She handed him his shirt and he looked at her, leaning down to kiss her cheek.

“I’ll talk to you later,” he whispered. She nodded, folding her arms, noticing that Dick was glaring daggers at her. Jason didn’t understand why, but now he was livid. Not only had Dick pretty much cockblocked his first kiss since he had been dead, he also was scaring her with his look. He grabbed his bag and followed his brother out of the apartment building, glancing up at the window as he passed. YN was staring down, watching him get into Dick’s car. He slammed the door, tossing his bloody shirt and bag in the back. They drove home in silence.

“What in the hell were you thinking?” Dick asked, showing Jason video that was going viral of this ‘Red Helmet’, o God it was worse than Red Mask, taking down Maroni’s guys at the club. Jason sighed and shrugged, tossing his back on the couch. Dick immediately, opened it, finding his helmet. “So tell me, how long have you been outright lying to me?”

“A couple months,” Jason answered honestly. Dick nodded. “You wouldn’t understand.”

“O don’t pull that shit on me, I’m 24, I’m not that far removed from being you right now,” he said. “I can understand the helmet and you’re a hero, you saved everyone in that club, so good on you for that. But you could have told me about that, I would have taken you out patrolling Bludhaven with me.”

“I didn’t want to protect Bludhaven,” Jason muttered. Dick sighed and threw the helmet into the couch cushions next to his brother.

“No, you wanted to go see that girl,” he said. “What about that girl from the play, Annabeth?”

“Annabeth is a character from the Percy Jackson books I read as a kid, she is entirely made up,” Jason admitted. “I’ve been seeing YN when I’m not making sure I get perfect grades or going to practice.” He wanted to drive home that YN was not bad for him, he was still being the perfect little student, and doing exactly what Dick told him too, except for seeing someone he didn’t approve of. “And I still don’t understand what your problem is with her. I mean, not like I’m much better, I literally grew up in that apartment building, for all I know we could have met when we were kids…”

“She’s Sal Maroni’s daughter,” Dick said. Jason stopped and stared at him. It didn’t compute for a moment.

“Sal Maroni’s?” he asked. Dick nodded. “She doesn’t know who her father is, at all.”

“Ya well, he knows her. Why do you think she is going to Gotham Academy? He needs a spare child, and since both his adult children are on a crash course for disaster, she’s his last hope,” Dick explained. Jason shook his head.

“How do you know all this?” he asked. Dick looked at him like he couldn’t be serious. “Bruce, keeping tabs, I forget you talk to him still, just not about me.” His brother sighed.

“I don’t know how to tell him about you. But that’s not the point, the point is, when she graduates, Sal is going to offer for her to join him, to start becoming his second so that he can pass down his legacy to her,” he said. Jason shook his head.

“She wouldn’t do that, she’s not going to become some crime boss,” he argued.

“What if he offers her what she wants most in the world?” Dick countered. Jason stopped. Her mother’s cancer. Maroni could get them help, could help her mother live longer.

“We could help her first, we could give her that money for her mom, make up a non-profit or something, like Bruce used to do,” Jason said, wanting to do something to help her, to make sure that she didn’t fall into Maroni’s hands. Dick shook his head. “WHY?”

“Because Jason, we don’t actually know her…”

“You don’t know her! I know her! I LOVE HER!” Jason yelled, standing too quickly. He hissed out and glared as the stitches opened, new blood seeping through. Dick shook his head.

“You’re a kid Jason, you’ll get over it, now let’s go to the hospital and get you really fixed,” Dick said, ending the conversation. Jason was fuming. They may have finished talking for the night, but this wasn’t over.

[macsimagines]

I see very few Yan! Mitsuya and Yan! Hokkai post, so can we have one where they both share a darling?

(Ilove Hakkai so much. pretty baby~ Ms.Mac)

TW: Nsfw, Stalking and tracking, Threesomes idk...

Yandere!Mitsuya & Yandere!Hakkai

Ok so Mitsuya and Hakkai were involved. Mitsuya would dom the fuck out of Hakkai and he loooooved the attention. But soon they both notice you.

You probably caught them one day and agreed to keep things a secret for them. You were very supportive and would always cover for one or the other so they wouldn't get caught.

Eventually they tried to repay you. Mitsuya would constantly be showering you with clothes he designed or outfits he got you to compliment your figure and Hakkai would be defending you from anyone that tried to fuck with you. (I mean they both fight for your sake, but Hakkai is so shy that fighting in your name is all he can handle.)

It's no wonder they fall in love with you.

They make sure no one can take you from them. Mitsuya is so nice that you don't suspect that he's sewing trackers into all your clothes and Hakkai is so quiet that you'd never expect that he's beating the shit out of anyone that asks you out.

Both walk in on you changing into one of Mitsuya's new dresses and they both get a boner.

NSFW

Best sex they had was to the thought of your body. And Mitsuya decides he wants two pretty babies and Hakkai thinks they deserve you more than anyone else does.

Mitsuya has to take the lead in seducing you, Hakkai can't even talk to you yet but he has a plan for that... You aggreed to be a figure model for one of new designs and he's caressing you body while taking your measurements.

You try to keep it professional but you can't help the way you're flushing when he's running a hand up your bare thigh and saying "You're skin's so soft, baby. Absolutely perfect."

And you feel so hot under Hakkai's gaze, who's just staring at his two favorite people getting steamy together.

Mitsuya kisses you suddenly, and he won't let you get away or try to ask what he's doing. The way his fingers are playing with your pussy is too good to form a single thought.

When he does pull away he tells you too look at what you do to him and then makes you look over at Hakkai, who's got his dick out and is pumping it to the image of you two making out.

Hakkai gets to be in the middle with you under him and Mitsuya behind him, and he's cumming the second his big dick is fully stuffed into you, but Mitsuya just rocks his own hips more and makes Hakkai keep fucking you even though he's over stimulated

Mitsuya makes the poor baby babble about how good you both feel and is just loving the way you're gasping under both of them and Hakkai is crying about how too good it feels.

When everything is done Mitsuya just watches the pair of you leak out cum and feels that all is well with the world...

[starwarsmum]

Day 2 of Dickinette Feb brings 'Hello'!

@maribat-calendar-events

“Marinette, it's been ages!” Luka said through the phone, making Marinette smile fondly.

“I know! God, you have no idea how dull it is in Gotham, I swear I have yet to see some actual sunshine,” she grumbled, grinning wider when Luka gave one of his trademark soft laughs. “But anyway, I wanted to ask how the tour was going! Have you had anybody try to drag you off the stage yet?”

“Not yet, but Chloé thinks it's going to happen soon. She's a fantastic bodyguard, by the way,” he said. “Any time someone wants to get close to me she glares at them until they stop.”

“That sounds like Chloé,” Marinette giggled, stretching out from where she had been hunched over her sewing machine. Although she had lost a lot of love for the world of fashion after exposing Hawkmoth as her former fashion idol, she still liked to make things for herself and her few friends.

“Anyway, how's your new job going? You've been there a couple of months now, right?” 

As usual, Luka could tell exactly what was on her mind. It didn't matter that all traces of wielding a Miraculous had been wiped from his memory, that Marinette's own tenure as Ladybug had been erased, he still understood her on a different level. Maybe it was his ability to hear his friends’ heart songs, but he was always aware when Marinette was feeling down and could often guess the reason.

“I thought it would feel…different. I'm in the crime capital of the United States, I didn't expect to feel so…” she couldn't find the words to explain. Her work as a police officer and detective in Paris had left her aching for something more, and she had thought that moving countries would give her that. She had hoped that it was just the past that only she remembered was what was pushing her head underwater, but it looked like that wasn't it. “I love helping people, and I love that I'm getting the chance to do that where it's so sorely needed but…I don't know if it's enough.”

“It's okay to not have it figured out yet,” Luka reassured her, his tone soothing. “We all went through so much as teenagers and your plans were different then. And you have so much more time to figure things out. Maybe all you need is a day somewhere sunnier, to lift your mood and reinspire you.”

“Maybe,” she murmured, yawning as she stretched out and put aside her work. It was late and she had to be up for work the next day so she said goodbye to Luka, promising to come and see him as soon as she had more time off. He laughed and promised the same, telling her to take it easy.

Too tired to make anything other than a sandwich, she ate quickly before collapsing into bed, her mind puzzling over how she could get her life where she wanted it to be.

_ _ _

As Marinette sped through the streets of Gotham on her bike, she was ever more glad that she had invested in it. Without it, she would undoubtedly be late to work every single day, just from the sheer amounts of traffic between her place and the precinct.

Dick perked up at the usual table they used for morning briefs, grinning at her in his usual charming way. She resolutely ignored the little flutter in her chest as she smiled back at him before taking her seat. The flutter made itself known again when he handed her the coffee he always picked up for her.

“Hey, commish is running a little late so we've got a little bit of time. I've been working on that jewelry store case and I have a few ideas to chase down,” he said. “So we can head out of here for the morning and hopefully just spend the afternoon writing up together.”

“Sounds a plan,” she said cheerfully, taking a gulp of coffee and sighing. After two months of working together, they'd settled into a nice routine; she would bring snacks for them to have as they hit the streets and he would bring morning coffee. At this point he had her order down perfectly and she enjoyed trying new recipes to test out on him.

The morning turned out to be very productive and they had a suspect in custody by lunchtime. All that was left was the paperwork, which neither enjoyed doing. Fortunately with both of them working on it they were likely to get it done by the time they left.

“Man, I'm gonna need a snack before we start this,” Dick declared after they'd settled down at their desks. Marinette gave him a fond eye roll as he leapt back to his feet before telling him to bring her back something sweet. He merely winked before heading out of the room.

Rolling her shoulders, she sighed and tried to get her scattered thoughts in order. As Ladybug she had never had to write a report for what had happened - plenty of people knew what had happened and it was practically the same every time. It had been maybe ten minutes when someone appeared at Dick's desk and she looked over to find a young boy, maybe just shy of his teen years, glaring over at her.

“Can I help you?” She asked, glancing around to see if there was an adult accompanying him. He didn't look like he was lost - he looked in control and arrogant, his very fancy school uniform letting her know that he attended the most prestigious school in Gotham.

“Tt, I am here for Richard Grayson,” he said in clipped tones, his accent not quite the same as those she recognised as being from New Jersey. “Are you a new ward he is attempting to procure for Father?”

And didn't that just bring a whole new host of questions. She gave him another once over, trying to get anything other than the calm exuding from his every action but coming up blank. With nothing else to go on, she decided to treat him exactly as she would do if he was one of Chloé's friends: like she was impressed with everything about him.

“No, I'm just his new partner,” Marinette said with a smile, sitting up a little straighter to get on the kid's level. One of the benefits of being chronically short was that kids could relate to her. “He just went to get something to eat. You look pretty serious there, kid, anything wrong?”

“Tt, don't be absurd, why should anything be wrong? I merely came to speak with my older brother and I shall wait here until he returns.”

“Do you want me to tell him you're here? It might make him hurry up, I've noticed that he gets distracted easily.”

The kid gave her an appraising look and Marinette raised an eyebrow in question. Before he could make a decision, Dick came back and all but squealed when he saw his brother.

“Dames! What're you doing here? Is everything okay? Aww, I forgot how cute you look in your school uniform,” he cooed, making the younger boy sigh in exasperation.

“Richard, I came because you said you had the afternoon off? And that you wanted to watch movies with me, to ‘broaden my horizons’,” he said with unveiled contempt. “If your plans have changed, it would have been nice if you had told me.”

“Oh! No, my plans haven't changed,” Dick replied hastily, shooting Marinette an apologetic look. She hid her grin because his brother looked at her as well, eyes narrowed. “I have like, one thing to do and then I'm all yours. Mari, will you keep him company while I put the files away?”

Marinette agreed and Dick rushed off, leaving the boy to sit down with a heavy sigh. Not wanting to overwhelm him, she turned back to her work. It didn't take long for him to sidle over to her side of the desk and she was glad she was working on something non-gruesome.

“That's the incorrect word,” he said in a superior voice, smirking at her when she looked back at him. “Third line down, you used the word ‘impatient’ when you meant impermeable. Impatient means you cannot wait but impermeable is often used to mean waterproof.”

“Huh,” she said, scanning the document again before going back to change the word. “Well thanks kid, that would've been embarrassing. English being a second language is hard.”

“Hmph, if I have managed it, surely you can,” he sneered, though he looked slightly pleased with himself.

“No way, English cannot be your second language,” Marinette said, letting her eyes widen. A smug grin came onto his face and she shoved her own smirk down, planning to have a little victory smile once he was gone. “Well, colour me impressed. Not many fourteen year olds can say they learned English as a second language to your degree of fluency.”

“I'm almost thirteen, actually,” he said, lifting his chin higher. “And I know more than two languages. I am surprised Richard hasn't spoken of me, he is usually unbearably overenthusiastic about my accomplishments.”

“Well, that's probably because we're at work,” she said with a shrug. “But it's nice to meet you anyway. What accomplishments should I be asking him about, in your opinion?”

“Alright, ready to go?” Dick said, reappearing with a slight flush to his cheeks. He waited for his little brother to join him before nodding at Marinette. “Thanks for keeping him busy, you wouldn't believe the trouble he can get into when he's bored.”

“He was a perfect angel,” Marinette said solemnly, grinning at the kid when his back straightened even more. “Feel free to drop by anytime. Richard here doesn't even have to be in, you can just help make sure my English is correct, yeah?”

Dick started, glancing between the pair, surprised to see that Damian was giving the offer some consideration.

“That's not the worst offer I have ever received, and it's certainly better than being stuck with Drake at his office. At least your work is interesting and meaningful,” Damian said, lip not even curling. “Enjoy the rest of your day…”

“Marinette, but my friends call me Mari,” she said with a wink at the younger boy. If Dick wasn't already sure she was perfect, the way she handled Damian might have tipped the balance. “But if you need to find me here, it's Detective Dupain-Cheng.”

“Understood. Thank you, Marinette. Come along Richard, let's go and begin this insufferable movie marathon.”

“Might I suggest the Princess Bride? If you haven't seen it before,” Marinette piped up again, leaning back in her chair and eyeing the pair. “It's got a bit of everything, action, mystery, even some romance.”

“I do not know your film tastes well enough to accept a recommendation at this time,” Damian said, a slight huff to his tone now. “Richard, are we not leaving?”

“Damian, don't be rude,” Dick chided, ruffling his hair. “But we will get out of your way now, Mari. Message me if you need help with anything, okay?”

Once Marinette waved them away, Dick was quick to lead Damian over to his motorcycle. He tried not to burst from the questions plaguing him, knowing that if Damian wanted to talk about something he would, but it was difficult. He normally treated other adults like the enemy, or stupid, but Marinette had called him a ‘perfect angel’ and he had granted her the use of her first name.

“Buckle up, lil D, we'll be back at the manor soon,” Dick said cheerfully as they climbed onto the back of his bike. “And if you want, you can pick which movie we start with!”

Whatever Damian said was lost to the roar of the engine as they sped off into the crowded streets.

[myths-tournaments]

Awful Characters Round 1 Part 1 (6/8)

Propaganda under the cut!

DIO BRANDO

why i like him: he’s evil, he’s funny, he’s a vampire, he’s a dick for no reason, he’s British, he’s bisexual, he stops time, and everything bad that happens in the series is his fault why he deserves to be in: LITERALLY kicks puppies, that’s his THING. Ruins adoptive brother’s life just because he’s Mean and Evil. Kills people. Kills animals. Does weird horrible things to people for literally no reason. Turns people into zombies. Kisses women without their consent. Brainwashes people. Seduces lovers and sucks their blood while a weird old lady watches in the corner. Ruins generations of lives even after his ass is dead. can you be cancelled by twitter users: yes absolutely

BELIAL

Belial is the primal beast/angel of cunning, and one of the main antagonist of the side story "What makes the sky blue". He's the very first primal in existence and had a profound romantic and sexual devotion for his creator, Lucilius. So profound that he commited all sort of crimes to get Lucilius's love and approval, and only got worse in worse when Lucilius only showed distate for him. Mind you those were crimes Lucilius wanted him to do, but Belial was just never enough compared to the second primal beast, Lucifer, the angel overseeing Evolution. List of crimes includes: -Provoked like 3 attempted apocalypses -Organized a group of rebel fallen angels in order to make them Lucilius's experiments subjects later, torturing all of them for thousand of years. -When Lucilius was beheaded by Lucifer, Belial vowed to bring Lucilius back to life…. By organizing Lucifer's murder and beheading him in order to use Lucifer's corpse to sew Lucilius's head on it -Also managed to blame Lucifer's boyfriend for Lucifer's death because "well it's your fault he died since he was trying to protect you so he wasn't fighting at his full strength :/" -He is also extremely sexual and is constantly talking about wanting to orgasm on the spot, or engage in sexual intercourses with anyone he encounters -Also the type of person who kills his one night stands after he's done with them. -Calls torturing people for fun just himself indulging in his SM side. -He's spoken a lot about his goal to Fuck Lucifer's Corpse, in front of Lucifer's boyfriend. -Also is constantly doing sexual remarks to said boyfriend. -He's torn the wings of the one person who was still loyal to him (technically to save his life but he lied that he was doing it just to torture him) -Also he lies all the time and backstabbed everyone we ever see him make plans with -Guilttripped the protagonist by faking his suicide -Helped the protagonist at the last hour during their fight against Lucilius in order to be locked into an interdimensional prison for all of eternity with the man who hates his guts, out of love for him, while the guy couldn't think of a worst way to spend eternity. -But by helping us i mean "gave us a ship, and then we learnt that he left a bomb on that ship, nearly killing us" -Has been appearing in MC's dreams regularly to manipulate them into embracing a magic that will make MC his puppet -Managed to mind control MC for long enough to have MC try to kill their soulmate. -In the spin off fighting game he mind controlled a lot of people in the same way to make them his puppets and force them to try to kill their loved ones. -He's described in the game as "Just, The Worst". -Has this for theme song and we're supposed to think it's normal: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=d2MHUJTciRg Personally i like him a lot because there's Layers to his depravity, mainly also that the horny feels a lot like an act some of the time, and that he's ultimately a man with intense inferiority complex and self destructive because he wants the love of his uncaring creator at all cost.

He's fairly popular in the fanbase but i've somewhat also seen a LOT of takes about how you're a bad person if you stan him. Mainly i've once seen a call out post saying all fans of Granblue Fantasy are bad because "Belial is a pedophile" quickly followed by "but i never played granblue". Like. The dude's a canon necrophile why did you need to add a crime he didn't commit on the list. (pretty sure it was on the list since he's an immortal guy who's two thousands years old who flirts with mortal people so there is Always An Age Gap but didn't he commit worse than that by now.) I've also seen some people hate him for how clingy he is to Lucilius and how he's earned all the abuse he recieves from his creator, but i don't know if those groups sweeped as low as to call his fans bad for it lmao. Oh right and once he was trending on Twitter and a lot of catholic people started to cause an outrage because "how could the youth worship the demon Belial by making him an anime boy, you're all going to hell", it was fun! There's a lot more problematic characters in the franchise that would honestly fit more to this prompt, but Belial is the only one who's popular enough to have people, even outside of the Granblue fanbase, make judgement on people who like him because he's Terrible.

pollrunner's note: belial's propaganda was all from one person and is supposed to be one big quote block but tumblr didn't like that so I had to split it up a little bit

[uummi]

Written for @dicktimweek 2023

Day 1: Soulmate AU | Nightwing!Tim | Time Loop Day

Words Count: 1508

Title: Day of the dead

Pairing: Dick Grayson/Tim Drake

Warnings: Major Character Death| Blood and Gore| Suicide| Emotional Instability| Self-harm Done Unwittingly

Tim was falling from the sky at an unhealthy speed

His eyes were closed, his body had become even weaker since he was last seen, there were wounds hidden by traces of blood at the points where his wings were

He wasn't making any kind of movement to fly. Dick thought once more, had Tim learned to float in the blue the moment he jumped out of the nest with a sense of betrayal?

Just a few more steps... Why don't you make an effort to catch?

If there was Tim instead of him, he would have handled this situation in one go

Dick dared not think about anything else as he looked at the corpse stuck in the middle of the street in a new costume unlike his childish Robin one

Which is the biggest thing that Tim forgot because he felt betrayed was that he would always be Dick's first Robin, and Dick always liked to see his soulmate in his own colors

Tim's tiny body was bent at an abnormal angle, his eyes inside the domino were left open by the impact of the collision

There was a pool of blood formed by the effect of the rain that started around, and most civilians were closing their eyes in pain and trying to go home

Because they knew that no one would get help from Batman today. Dick wasn't going anywhere, he wasn't going to leave Tim alone once again

Even if the one he loves will never notice again

Even though his black suit was dyed red, he sat on the floor without caring about the blood pond. He took the glove off over his thin fingers and began to touch the body, which began to fade slowly

He stood for a few seconds in the smiling pinkness. Shamefully giving his first kiss by pulling him into a corner at one of Bruce's parties, that beautiful lips were turning increasingly blue

Dick still remembered very clearly the taste of the soft piece of meat, how he wiped Tim's tears from his slightly brimming eyes and how they went back to the party while joking with each other

He could hear the other superheroes starting to gather around him, those who had known averted their eyes from Dick, while others questioned why Batman was so interested in a small runaway bird, but he still didn't get up

As soon as he was left alone, he joined his hands together and began to beg

One more time he said, please, just one more time...

It couldn't have ended like this, they had so many more plans

This should not have been the end

So the question is, how many more times did he have the strength to do this?..

Dick let out a scream that filled his throat, quickly opened his eyes and kicked the coverlet above him with a feeling of tightness. He knew that Damian was scribbling something on his art notebook he picked up on the opposite seat and was watching him with one eyebrow up when he reacted, but he didn't care

He just cursed towards the calendar, which sewed up his blueness and blinked in front of him, and then felt that he couldn't breathe with all the emotions that came with a tremor

He took his head between his hands and closed his mind to the tears decaying from his eyes and the ugly choking sounds

How many was that? Why every time Tim slipped through his fingers to turning into a dust?

He had tried every move he could think of. He caught Tim in time, but his little soulmate took his last breath before he even had a chance to get help from internal bleeding

Or he participate in the battle with Ra's with him but still did not manage to prevent his fall

Tim held out his hand for a moment and tried to get help. His angel still trusted him, which made Dick happy for a moment

The worst case scenario was when he found Tim without him entering Gotham and helped him make his plans which made Dick think he had achieved just a second

Everything went well for that one, he even prevented Tim from suffocating due to the air pressure because he was trying to fly high, but before he had time to celebrate, his baby was poisoned by a ninja

His non-existent spleen also weakened his normally strong immune system, taking away his chance of survival

He nervously pulled his hands from his head and threw them on top of each other. He ignored the noise that formed, such as his nails gaining strength or sounds coming out of sandpaper

It was so ridiculous, it didn't mean anything

What more could he have done to save Tim?

He should never have let him go. If necessary, he had to imprison the little body inside the mansion and ensure that his energy, born with a smile on his face, was protected at the risk of being destroyed and becoming a hollow shell

And now, because of Dick, who couldn't manage to use the chances he had properly, there was no chance that he would ever be more than that empty shell again

The scraping sounds increased a little more, although the inside of his nails slowly turned red, their speed increased even more

Damian got up from his chair, was his picture finished?

If he asked the boy, would he give him a picture of Tim as a gift?

A smell was beginning to come to his nose

Would Tim's hair have continued to smell of coffee as usual?

Pain, pain, pain...

He couldn't take it anymore...

'Richard, stop it!'

He woke up with a sudden start and shot a glance at Damian, who was calling to him

He was looking scared, Dick wonder if something had happened

Besides, why did his arms hurt so much?..

He stared at the blood flowing down his arm like a stream and realized that he was experiencing enlightenment in an instant

He was really a complete idiot

Between both of their relationships, Tim had always been the smarter one, and Dick was definitely proud of that

This time he began to laugh, not noticing the frightened gaze of Alfred, who came with Damian's fearful scream. Of course, why hadn't it occurred to him before?

It was always because of that little boy in his soul who believed that he could save everyone because he was a hero

No, Dick knew that death was necessary. And that there must be a reason for the rules that the gods set when creating soulmates

So it wasn't about Tim

It was about Dick...

That's why he didn't do any extra work that evening. He accepted Tim's words asking him to trust him, he even tried to refuse to trust him once in this endless loop to result in with Tim did not even let Dick catch him, he fought with the ninjas attacking them with Damian, listened to the sounds coming from Tim via the radio, and just as the cracking crackles of the glass began to fill his ears, he went up in the air

He let the wind blow his cloak for a few seconds

He wouldn't have a chance anymore, so he wanted to forget

They had come to the end, hadn't they?

He cut the rope that allowed him to glide with the help of a knife at the moment when Tim and his own body met. Although he knew that the young boy's eyes were looking around in surprise and he was trying to forcibly move their bodies away, he began to smile peacefully

Really why hadn't he thought of it before? There was no way he could have saved Tim on this same day, so they both had to die together

He ignored the screams, took the tiny hands that were nailing his arms decently between his own calloused hands and gave them a tiny kiss

Tears were beginning to flow from the eyes of his little baby, he was barely looking at his tool belt, looking for something to help them stay in the air at least for a while longer

Did it just occur to you that you know how to fly? Didn't I teach you, Tim, you need to flap your wings

Nothing would work, the two of them would integrate into the ground together, it would be impossible for them to separate

The gods give humans some people who will complete them in the creation of humanity

Maybe a grace maybe paying for a sin the bodies where two half-souls live would die in the same time period

Dick was cursed as usual, so for the last few times, his soulmate had tried to rise to eternity by leaving him behind

Never again... Never again...

This life and beyond...

They were always going to be together...

Gotham cried to its two guardian who fell in the next morning

[final-girl96]

STOLEN HEARTS CHAPTER THREE

☆

☆

☆

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April 19, 1984

I scoffed and pulled the leftover chinese out. "He was fucking late and we didn't even do any studying. But I'm meeting him at the diner on Saturday at one. So I won't be home until sometime in the evening." He nodded his head, "Are you sure you're okay with tutoring him? You seem pretty upset." I waved him off, "I'm fine, dad. He's just full of himself and so fucking annoying. He goes through girls like their fucking skittles or something. One after the other!" I started to rant.

"And none of them will admit that they've been with because that would mean social suicide for them. I'm admitting they had sex with the freak if Hawkins would be the end of their social life forever!" Dad held up his hand stopping my word vomit. "The freak of Hawkins? Why do they call him that?" He asked. I sat down on one of the stools at the breakfast bar. "Because he's a metal head and plays DnD and is in a band," I said.

He nodded his head and hummed. "So because he dresses differently and listens to metal and plays a game he's a freak? This town has not changed one fucking bit." He shook his head and I sighed. "Just so you know I've never called him that. I've never judged him for that. I only judge him for the way he thinks he's the god of sex and how cocky he is and how full of himself he can be. And he's mean to people too! And–"

Dad held up his hand again. "Okay, sweetheart, I get it. You don't like the kid…wait did you say he's in a band?" I raised my eyebrow. "You're just now realizing I said he was in a band?" I asked. "I don't like it. I don't want you tutoring him or being near him." I started laughing, "oh, my god, dad! I don't plan on doing anything with him. I'm going to make sure he passes the next two tests and the final and be done with him. I am not interested in Eddie fucking Munson."

April 21, 1984

"Getting ready to go meet that boy? The boy who also happens to be in a band and can't keep his dick in his pants." I choked on the water I was drinking and looked at my dad. I patted my chest to try and help my coughing fit. "Jesus, dad! His name is Eddie and I have to meet him in half an hour…at the diner…where there will be other people."

I left the kitchen and went upstairs to get ready to leave. After getting all my stuff together I headed for the front door. "I'll take you." I turned around and shook my head. "Absolutely not! Don't you have a new album to work on? Aren't the other guys going to be here?" I asked. "They can wait." I walked over to him, kissing his cheek and chuckling. "I'll be fine, dad. Don't worry I won't let the big bad boy who's in a band corrupt me."

When I got to the diner I was surprised to see Eddie already there. What I wasn't surprised about was that he was making out with some girl in the corner back the hall where the bathrooms were. I only knew he was there when I saw his van parked out front. When I walked in I didn't see him until I sat at a table in the back where I could see down that same hall. It wasn't hard to tell it was him, especially with the hair and the big Dio patch he sewed on the back of his demi vest.

I thought about going over and interrupting them but decided against it. Instead I just got my stuff out and waited. "What can I get ya, sugar?" I looked up at the waitress standing beside the table. She was an older woman with gray scattered throughout her hair. She smacked her gum and gave me a warm smile before leaning down closer to me. "You're daddy Jac Hexley?" She whispered. I looked at her with wide eyes and nodded. "I thought so. He used to come in here all the time."

I smiled at her and looked around before they landed on my hands that were in my lap. "Don't worry, sweetie. I ain't gonna say a word. Now what can I get ya?" I looked up at her, "I'm actually waiting for someone." I looked down the hall to where Eddie was and she sighed. "That boy can't seem to keep his tongue in his own mouth. "Well, if you change your mind just holler."

A few minutes later I saw her going over to Eddie and saying something to him. The girl looked horrified that she had been caught making out with "the freak". Eddie wiped the corner of his mouth m, smirking as the girl pointed at him while saying something. I was assuming it was something along the lines of he better not tell anyone about it. Then she ran out if the diner and Eddie made his way over to me. He slid into the seat across from me and leaned back.

"You're late," he said. I scoffed and shook my head. "Actually, I was on time. If you weren't busy sucking that poor girl's face off you'd know that. Now, let's get to work. I don't want to spend more time with you than I need to." I pulled out the folder Ms. Adler gave me and laid out the first paper. It was one of his tests with little notes on the sides. He got maybe six of the questions right.

"Okay, so it looks like you struggle more with the fraction part. I looked up at Eddie not even paying attention. "Hello!" I snapped my fingers and he turned his head to look at me. "I don't need to know any of this shit to be a rockstar. So what's the fucking point?" I sighed and set my pen down. "For one you need to pass this class to graduate. For two, math actually comes in handy in the real world. Even for a rockstar."

He looked away from me and looked out the window. "You're a musician, you should know that math is a big part of music. Especially fractions. I mean to be honest I'm a little surprised you're not better in math with being a musician," I said. He looked over at me, "and what would you know about music? Huh? Look, let's just get this over with I would like to take a fucking nap before my gig tonight."

It went like this for two weeks of us arguing back and forth more than actually studying. "All we do is fight! He's impossible, dad! I mean you would think he knows this stuff with him being a musician!" I was pacing back and forth in the kitchen. Dad and the rest of the band watched as I went on a rant about Eddie. "Well, honey, there's no shame in giving up on him." I stopped my pacing and looked at him. "Dad!" I whined. He let out a long sigh.

"Alright. Maybe you just need to find a way that he'll understand it," he said. Ash, the drummer in the band, nodded his head. "Yeah, the kids in a band right?" I nodded my head. "So, that means he probably writes his own songs. Maybe you can explain it to him with music and then he'll understand it." There was a collective Yeah and everyone started pitching ideas. I just looked at them until they all stopped. "How do you suppose I do that? I've never written a song in my life."

"Maybe your dad can help out with that," Bret, the band's bass guitarist said. Dad whipped his head towards him. "Excuse me?" They all gave him a look and he groaned. "Fine. Bring him by. Me and the guys will try and help." The other guys tried to protest but he gave them a look that sgur them up. "Bring him by this weekend."

[newsies-are-the-new-best-thing]

A Study in Sprace

Jack doesn’t fall in love much, that is a lie ask any one of the newsies, but he found himself head-over-heels for a certain brunette journalist who was a girl (the girl thing was made clear to not be the focus of her description). A jolly tune was making its way to his mouth ready to begin humming along to the happy little song in his heart as he began climbing up the lodging house’s fire escape. Deciding a glimpse of the city below would settle his mind enough to begin thinking of sleep, he pulls himself onto the roof and then stumbles over himself when he spies a pair of boys already up there huddled together. If anyone asked why he decided to hide and listen to them, he’d say he wanted to make sure there wasn’t anything bad happening but in truth his brain was absolutely fried by the breath-taking sight of Kathrine, and he couldn’t snap himself back to reality to stop himself from eves-dropping.

“You’s think we’s could ever actually live t’ gether?” Race asks softly into the night air.

“…If you’s weren’t such a mess, maybes” Comes Spot’s quiet reply.

“Hey, fuck you’s Spot,” Race says laughing brightly, breaking the calm, and Jack suspects Race is shoving Spot in retaliation “you’re the one who can’t sew or cook worth shit.”

“You can’t cook neither.” Spot retorts and Jack can sense a sickeningly sweet smile spreading across the other’s face. “And I’m a fine sewer, I’s just ain’t sewin’ your clothes.”

“Why not” Race whines, Jack winces at the mental image the sound instills, big puppy-dog eyes staring up at him until he broke and did whatever the younger boy wanted, even if it ended up with him covered in mud, or flour, or sand, or- there were a lot of times Jack ended up covered in something due to Race.

“ ‘cause you’ll just leech offa me an I’ll get stuck sewin’ everythin’ …..maybe if you’s weren’t such a dick about-”

“Hey! I’s said it’s fine if you’s don’t want me aroun’ the other Brooklyn boys, I’m fine with it-” Jack could tell Race clearly wasn’t fine with it,

“You’s oughtta be, if you’s still wanna be with me-”

“Yeah, I’s do still wanna be with you so, think about it…. us livin’ t’gether, havin’ our own place”

“You’s sound like you’ve already picked outa paint color for the kitchen.” Spot grumbles.

“Ahh yes, it’ll be bright blue ta’ match with the plates we’d get. And o’ course, we’d hafta get a nice set a’ silverware”

“o’ course we’d need silverware Racer, we couldn’t eat with jus’ our hands-”

“Yeah, so a fancy set a silverware an’ a coffee pot for you’s an’ your special coffee. Jus’ picture it Spottie, wakin’ up in the mornin’, actually buyin’ a ‘pape ta’ read over the coffee I make ya’”

“You’s mean the coffee I’d make myself since you’s still asleep, snorin’ ‘till it’s noon”

“So, I’ll make ya’ lunch, any sorta sandwich you’s want, set out the fancy plates and forks, maybe even make some lemonade ta’ have with it.”

“…maybe ice cream too”

If Jack wasn’t love drunk this sappy conversation would have made his insides riot and involuntarily exit his mouth in protest. But he was, and all he could gather from Race and Spot’s sickening display of young love, was inspiration with a love of his own, hiding there on the rooftop, wondering if Kathrine also wanted a coffee pot in Jack’s rose-tinted future for them.

-------------

A few thoughts I had....fits in with my series on Ao3, pretty much an excerpt or interlude of sorts between my latest fanfic and the one I have planned.

[butwhyduh]

How do you think the batfam would react if they found that Dick's health was seriously deteriorating due to overwork, but Dick was hiding it because he wanted to continue helping the family with the cases?

Warning: bleeding mentioned

Dick gasped as the knife sliced his side like butter. No time to assess it now. He did a spinning kick that landed on the guys face and he went down.

Dick’s phone rang. Shit, your date. He had been working so much that he wasn’t exactly a great boyfriend at the moment and was trying to make up that. He tried to stop working so much but Damian and Bruce were fighting and Tim needed help with a case and Jason needed dating advice. That’s why Dick was so tired. That’s why he got hurt.

Dick grabbed a gauze from his pack and taped it to his side tightly. That should stop the bleeding. He could go on the date and then sew himself up in your bathroom with his emergency kit. No lidocaine but he could handle it probably.

Dick showed up at your door with a sweater over his shirt with a pair of blue jeans he quickly threw on.

“Hey,” you said giving Dick a hug. He held a groan as your arm touched his side. Fuck that hurt. “I thought we could go for a walk at the pier and get some street food.”

“Oh,” Dick said. That’s usually a great date. Moving that much while actively bleeding was a bad idea. “We can. I thought we could go see that movie you wanted to watch instead.”

“Oh sure, that sounds good,” you said with a grin. You grabbed your keys. “Do you want to catch the train?”

Parking was a nightmare but so was running to the train and slowly bleeding underground. Not to mention possibly catching some random infection.

“I’ll drive,” Dick answered as bright as he could. Half an hour later he was mentally cursing everything as he tried to find a place to park only to have to walk half a mile to the theatre.

“Dick are you okay? You look pale,” you asked.

I’m fairly certain I’m bleeding out but let’s finish the date first, Dick thought. “I’m fine. Just need some water and probably a nap,” he said with a little laugh that made his eyes water.

“You go find the seats and I’ll get you a drink and snack. Go relax,” you said watching him worried. Dick nodded and forced himself to not walk as if every breath was painful. Was he bleeding through the bandage? He didn’t bring another. Bad plan. If he wasn’t in pain he would have planned for that.

He strategically planned for you to sit on his bad side after much thought. You always sat on that side and though you were more likely to touch it than a stranger, you were less likely to hit him over a stranger.

He sat in a low row. Usually you both sat far up in the back, just in case kissing was on the menu but the idea of going up more stairs was horrifying to Dick. You found him and he could see a little worried look on his face but you didn’t mention it.

The movie started and you shared popcorn and a drink with him and Dick was certain he could survive this. He checked once during a fight scene that yeah, he was bleeding through his bandage. Thank goodness the hoodie he wore was black.

You turned and kissed him softly and tried to lean on his shoulder. And before Dick could think of anything to say, you moved the armrest and leaned against his side. He gasped loudly and you pulled back quickly. You looked down at the dark color on your fingers.

“Is that blood,” you whispered, confused.

“No,” Dick answered a little too quickly.

“God, are you bleeding,” you asked looking at him. He was sweaty and breathing heavily and pale as sheet. “Dick, are you bleeding badly?”

“I’ll be fine,” he insisted.

“Oh god. You’re bleeding a lot,” you said starting to panic a little.

“I’ll be fine. But can we go home? I’m sorry to ruin the movie,” Dick insisted.

“The movie? I don’t care about that! Come on,” you whispered furiously. You helped Dick stand up and you started walking out the theatre. He looked awful. The kid working at the theatre looked at you both confused.

“Stomach bug,” you said as you both walked out to the street. Dick could feel himself grow lightheaded but he tried to power on to the car. If he could get there then he’d be fine.

Instead Dick passed out just away from where anyone from the theatre could see. You barely was able to lower him to the ground safely. “Dick!” You gasped. You pulled out his phone and called the first brother’s phone number you can find.

“What up Dickwad, little busy.”

“Jason,” you breathed and he sat up quickly at your tone. “Dick is bleeding and he passed out and I don’t know what to do,” you said worried.

“I’m on the way. Put pressure on it until I get there,” he said jumping up and running out the door. It was only a few more minutes until he arrived. You couldn’t help but think how vulnerable you both were on the street in Gotham.

“He really did himself in,” Jason said as he pulled up the sweater to look at the blood blooming through the bandage. Jason tapped another layer on top of the old. “We’ll fix it at my place. I live nearby,” he said carrying Dick to the car and placing him in the back. You climbed in with him to keep pressure on his wound.

Dick woke up 3 hours later with an IV in his arm on a cold leather couch. You sat on the coffee table with his hand in yours.

“Dickie?” You asked when you noticed.

“Hey,” he breathed. “What happened?”

“What happened was that you lost a fourth of your blood and almost gave your girlfriend a heart attack,” Jason answered standing by the couch with his arms crossed. “You were lucky I keep O positive in the fridge.”

“For bleeding or drinking?” Dick quipped tiredly. You both smiled at him.

“Either,” Jason answered. “Just don’t fucking do that again. I thought you died, Dick.”

“Not the first time I’ve heard that one.”

“Dickie, we should have just stayed home. Why didn’t you tell me? You could have died,” you said and your tone made Dick wince.

“I didn’t want to ruin the date. I hadn’t taken you anywhere recently and I didn’t want to be a bad boyfriend,” Dick answered.

“Jesus, I think she’d be more mad if you died.”

“Thanks Jason. I’ve got it,” you said. Jason put up his hands in defeat and walked in the kitchen. “Dick I want you. Not a date or a movie or anything like that. I want to spend time with you and preferably not when you are bleeding to death. Don’t ever do anything like that again.”

“Okay,” he answered with a nod. His eyes kept closing and you could tell he was going to sleep more soon. “Can’t believe you admitted you want me. What a nerd.”

“Dick.”

[princessofguineapigs]

Unwrap Me | Charlie Puth

Requested by @strngengh2brk

All of Charlie's friends and family were gathered at his and your house for the party you were hosting for his 30th birthday. You'd even hired a jazz trio to play live music for the occasion.

All night, you'd been enjoying watching Charlie have a great birthday and the best of it was you got to be by his side. You were laughing and playing games with everyone when his mom suggested that he open some gifts.

He opened his sister's first, a new sweater in his favorite color. He went on to each friend and family member, thanking them in turn. Yours was last and Charlie was the most excited for it. He tore at the wrapping paper like a toddler at Christmas. Inside was a book on old automobiles and a button-up shirt with a sheet music pattern printed on it.

His hazel eyes lit up when he saw it. "Darling, these are so thoughtful. I love them." He kissed your cheek, earning an 'aw' from his mother. "I'm glad you like them."

"Where did you find a shirt like that?" his friend Adam asked.

You blushed. "Actually, I made it."

"What? You sewed this? Darling I had no idea you could." He shed the black button-up he'd thrown over his signature white tank. "I'm putting it on right now."

You had to admit it looked even better on him than you'd hoped.

"I have one more present for you," you whispered when he leaned in to hug you. "But you'll probably be taking that off."

Conversations were starting back up around you now that the presents were done. Charlie politely excused himself from the group and took your hand in his.

"Now where could this other present be?" he asked smugly.

"It's in the bedroom," you replied.

He lifted you off the ground, eliciting a tiny squeal from you and practically sprinted up the stairs to your bedroom. "Where is it?" he demanded, eyeing your body. "Give it to me."

"Calm down, tiger, don't you want to unwrap it yourself?"

You barely got the words out before you were naked and your dress was thrown to the other side of the room. He tore his own clothes off, stopping temporarily to carefully drape the new shirt over a chair, but ripped the tank over his head.

His pants were next and you marveled at the sight. You'd never get tired of his strong abs, the cute freckles on the left side, or the impressive member currently standing erect.

"Spread."

Your legs parted to reveal your dripping heat. Charlie climbed onto the bed and hovered over your body. His lips and teeth went to your neck to mark you as his. Normally, you'd object this close to being around people, but you'd be damned if you weren't going to give the birthday boy everything he wanted on his special day.

He pushed into you easily and his fully hard cock touched the entrance of your cervix. It wasn't a surprise that your soulmate's body was made for yours, but that didn't mean you couldn't appreciate it every time.

Charlie started moving faster than he normally did at the beginning and you could tell he'd been thinking about this during the majority of the party. You wanted him to enjoy this more, not be so rushed and desperate for a high.

You got an idea and hooked your legs around his waist as tight as you could. You rocked your hips and pushed against his shoulders to flip the two of you. Once on top, you readjusted your hips to take him better.

"Damn, baby, you're so fucking hot."

Raising and lowering yourself on his cock, you rode him like a porn star. You moaned like crazy and gyrated at a tantalizing pace. To keep things interesting, you decided to spell. Concentrating, you moved through each letter, fucking HAPPY BIRTHDAY CHARLIE up and down his dick.

"Shit, fuck, baby, I'm almost there."

"What do you need, love?" you asked.

"Tell me we can have a baby."

You were startled. "What?" You'd wanted to have a child with Charlie, but you'd never discussed it beyond joking about baby names.

"I wanna get you pregnant. Right now. No pull out. No plan B. Please, please, let's have a baby." He gripped your hips tight to keep you in place. "Please, I want this if you do." His breathing was heaving and he was achingly hard.

You calculated the odds. Even if he did get you pregnant, this was your forever. This was what you wanted. You kissed his lips. "Knock me up, daddy." The name had potential new meaning.

Charlie came in your cunt, spraying your cervix. He sat up and kissed you. "Mmmmm, my beautiful girl."

"Happy birthday."

He helped you off his lap. "Y'know, in nine months we could have another birth to celebrate."

"You weren't kidding?"

"About starting a family with you? That's never been a joke to me."

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Charlie’s birthday celebration 🍾

@violetlilysunshine @smoo00shybear @iboop @highratedkudi @multixfandomwriter @mcushvft @crabat-the-queen @strngengh2brk @meetmyothersouls @terbear5277

[cjsmalley]

The Ceremony:

The day had dawned, and the grounds of Wayne Manor were…not exactly lively as a flood of ghosts were prepping the grounds but busy.

Alfred wasn’t quite unhappy with the extra hands but he did resent being turned into a commander and then told to mostly relax.

The Phantoms, most of them at least, had arrived early with a small army of servants willing to help.

The bride and grooms were being distracted by family and friends and not allowed to see each other; Damian was being used to ferry messages between the three.

He took the task with dignity and did so swiftly when asked. He was the only male allowed in Koriand’r’s room and took the honor seriously.

He slid through the cracked door, announcing, “Miss Anders, Richard proclaims his love for you again and his surety that you are a work of art in your gown…” then he added, “I think Richard’s become slightly hysterical with his love for you and Wallace.”

Kori giggled, staying still so Marinette could finish the last-minute alterations needed, while the other women keeping her company just outright laughed.

“Adrien was the same on our wedding day,” Marinette said knowingly.

“It’s sweet,” Buffy agreed, “you should’ve heard Spike under a love spell—we were planning a wedding and he just spouted poetry for me every other word. Turns out it wasn’t exactly the spell; he still recites poetry for me.”

“You’re not married?” Stephanie asked, cocking her head.

“Kinda hard to get married when the groom’s undead,” Buffy said dryly, “and gets hives—literal hives—from consecrated grounds that aren’t graveyards or cemeteries. Any ceremony we hold would be a big freaking beacon too, to every nasty to come gatecrash.”

Everyone nodded in understanding.

“We were planning—under the spell of course—to hold the ceremony in the most active cemetery. We did find a pretty spot that didn’t look too gloomy,” Buffy added thoughtfully, before shrugging, “I’m not even sure he could get through the vows without Dusting. Marriage is holy right?”

“Sometimes,” Selina agreed before saying, “Bruce and I aren’t quite married either, Steph—common-law.”

“I’ve been married to the Doctor so many times they all cancel each other out or else we’re practicing polyamory with ourselves,” Rose stuck her head into the room, “twenty minutes, girls. Tick-tock!”

“And done,” Marinette stood up, packing away her emergency sewing kit, “whoever did your dress was very good at their job, Miss Anders.”

“Please, call me Kori,” Kori spoke, “thank you for your work.”

“It really was no problem,” Marinette replied modestly.

Marinette turned to Damian, “Do Dick or Wally need—?”

“No, they have tailors with them,” Damian replied, “Uncle Bruce has made sure. He also thanks you for your work and desires to pay you.”

“No, family’s free,” Marinette waved that away, “the Waynes are family so they don’t need to pay for some small things.”

The women busied themselves, finishing getting ready as Damian slipped back out.

He headed back to Richard’s room, darting gracefully around the somewhat harried servants following Alfred’s every order.

He made it just as Richard and the groom’s party exited the room, “There you are, Dami! Jon was looking for you. I think he’s already out back.”

Damian nodded and walked with the party to where everything was set up and indeed found Jon waiting, fairly buzzing with excitement.

The two friends greeted each other and it was time to take their seats as Richard moved into place at the not-altar, under an arch of red, purple, and blue flowers specifically grown by Doctor Isley for the ceremony.

Wallace came out first, as the music began, being escorted by Barry.

The music died down as he stepped up to the officiant and Richard.

The ceremony was short, abbreviated for fear of interruptions, but no less heartfelt for it.

After kissing Richard, Wallace stepped aside, assuming the role of Best Man, and Koriand’r walked down the aisle as the music played.

This ceremony was just as brief, each hero alert for anything out of the ordinary as the couple said their vows and then kissed.

Nothing.

No rampaging supervillain, possessed friend, or invasion had happened.

They had done it.

One peaceful event.

There wasn’t a dry eye as cheers of joy and relief started while Richard walked his partners back down the aisle as the officiant announced the three of them as the new Grayson-West-Waynes.

Bruce was sobbing along with Barry; their sons were all but married.

The Titans were hooting and hollering for Koriand’r, taking the place of her family, clapping uproariously.

Even little Lian, on her Aunt Raven’s lap as her father had stood with Wallace, was clapping along.

Life was good.

Wished Away 7:

Happy Thanksgiving (Early, I Know, Shut up):

“Father, Mother, and Uncle Tucker wish to invite you to our Thanksgiving meal,” Damian said.

“Are you sure?” Bruce asked, “we’re a lot.”

Even without Damian, Bruce had many children and cooking for all of them was sometimes a tall order.

Damian smiled, “We are aware. You are not the only family we are inviting. Every child Father, Mother, and Uncle Tucker has taken in we have invited along with their remaining family if they have any. Even the non-Americans have been invited.”

“We’d be delighted to come,” Alfred said for his family, “should we bring anything?”

“You may,” Damian agreed, “however, the chefs and cooks of the Palace will be preparing the main meal. It will be mostly meatless. Seitan mostly, in observance with mine and Mother’s dietary needs and our beliefs. It will also be made in-line with kosher regulations.”

“Cookies,” Jason said, looking at Alfred, “we can make vegan cookies.”

“Very well, Master Jason,” Alfred nodded, already planning for such a large batch, or several batches.

Damian grinned.

Thanksgiving Day arrived and the portal opened.

They filed through and were greeted by Sam, the younger Sam on her hip, “Happy Thanksgiving.”

Sammy just waved shyly, gaining fond chuckles.

They all echoed the sentiment and were led through the palace to one of the ballrooms, “Not even the large dining room is big enough to hold our horde,” she said with humor.

“Oh?”

“Everyone invited came,” Sam explained before visibly remembering, “Oh, and any red wine you see? Not red wine; we have a vampire in attendance. He eats human food but not really.”

“Of course,” Bruce nodded; only Dick was of age to drink, of his children, but neither one really drank. Still, it was good to know.

“’m assuming the vamp’s friendly?” Jason voiced.

“Friendly as in doesn’t eat humans anymore, yeah,” Sam nodded, “but, well, Spike’s Spike. You’ll understand once you meet him. Don’t go after his humans and he’s nice enough.”

“Fair enough,” Stephanie nodded.

“Also in attendance are a Vampire Slayer, several witches and wizards, two magic superheroes…basically everyone you met at Damian’s birthday party’s here. I know Spike wasn’t there; he had to babysit the Hellmouth that day, so he’s really the only new face. Him and his daughter, Hope.”

“Vampires can have—”

“She’s adopted, from a separate dimension. Danny brought her to the Hellmouth group to hide her. She’s being raised by Buffy and Spike.”

“Oh.”

They finally made it to the ballroom; the doors were wide open; servants rushed forward to relieve the Waynes of the platters of cookies they carried before they entered the room.

Most of the room was divided down the middle by a cartoonishly long dining table, bench seating on either side of it. Settings were already in place.

In one corner was a padded and gated off area where Anakin and the baby that could only be Hope played. Well, played as only young babies could, which wasn’t much.

Dotted around the room were small clusters of regular chairs and beanbag chairs, some of which were already occupied, surrounding small tables with pitchers of water and juices and, yes, blood.

Spike the vampire was easy to pick out from the masses because he had a glass of what looked like red wine in hand. Nobody else did.

The Waynes spread out, first finding Damian to say hello, then mingling and visiting with the friends made at the birthday party.

Bruce made his way towards the vampire.

“’Lo,” Spike greeted lowly over his drink, Buffy at his side.

“Hello, Buffy,” Bruce said before smiling with a closed mouth, “and you must be Spike. Bruce Wayne.”

“Not an ape, mate,” Spike snorted, “won’t attack if you smile at me. Sit down, take a load off. Hear you’re Batman. The real deal one.”

“I am,” Bruce took a seat, reaching to fill a cup with orange juice, “where did you hear it from?”

“Dawn was excited; her little brother’s bio-dad is Batman,” Buffy explained, rolling her eyes fondly, “one of my friends, Xander, is a big comic book nerd.”

“Ah. I assume there won’t be any problems?”

“Not from us,” Spike agreed, nudging Buffy with a smirk, “my girl here’s a superhero too. Won’t be any trouble from our lot. Right, Slayer?”

“Yep. No problems from us. If Danny and Sam are good with you being…you know, you then we’re good,” Buffy nodded, “just as long as you don’t put Dawnie or Hope in a suit.”

“I don’t want them out there,” Bruce grumbled, “but if I didn’t help them, they’d all be dead by now.”

“We get it, honestly,” Buffy assured, “Dawn’s given us enough gray hair,” she grinned mischievously at Spike, “she’s even given Billy Idol here some.”

“Slayer, you know that pissant stole—”

Bruce laughed.

Everyone mingled and chatted for a few hours before the meal began; servant after servant carried food and drinks to the main table as everyone found seats on the benches.

Spike and Danny placed the babies into highchairs.

By the time everything and everyone was ready, the table was fairly groaning with the meal.

Danny gained everyone’s attention, standing and grinning, “Welcome to Thanksgiving Dinner at the Palace. Thank you all for coming, even our non-Americans for putting up with our silly traditions.”

The non-Americans laughed fondly, nodding; even Alfred cracked a smile.

“For those who’re probably wondering,” he continued, “our essential living staff celebrated at lunch and most will have the day off tomorrow. Everyone else had the day off today. Now, normally we’d go around and say what we’re thankful for but we’d be here forever if we did that tonight. So, while we eat let’s just think about what we’re thankful for and enjoy the food and the company. Oh, and just so you know, everything’s kosher and most of the ‘meat’ is actually Seitan. Real meat is on the green platters. But before we begin, let’s give a round of thanks to the kitchen staff for making the food!”

Everyone applauded.

“Now, tuck in!”

They all did so with gusto; the meal was magnificent and it was clear the Palace staff had put their all into it.

Most of the Seitan was shaped into meat product appearances, looking indistinguishable from the real turkeys and hams. And it tasted almost like the real things too.

The meal lasted well into the night and everyone went home stuffed and with leftovers.