Chapter Text
The air in Dressrosa was thick with the stench of smoke, blood, and shattered stone. The island groaned under the weight of its own ruin, the aftermath of Doflamingo’s fall still pulsing through the streets like a dying heartbeat. Luffy tore through the wreckage, his bare feet slapping against cracked cobblestones as he sprinted toward the rooftop where he’d left Law.
Law.
The rooftop came into view, a jagged silhouette against the bruised purple sky. Law was there, slumped against a crumbled wall, his body a map of pain. His right arm, hastily reattached, lay limp at his side, useless. His left hand twitched weakly, clutching at nothing. His eyes, usually sharp and calculating, were glazed, unfocused, his breath shallow and uneven. He was a wreck, barely conscious, his body screaming for rest he wouldn’t get.
Luffy’s heart pounded, not with concern but with need. It roared in his ears, drowned out the world, narrowed his universe to the man crumpled before him. He didn’t slow as he reached the rooftop, didn’t hesitate. He dropped to his knees, the space around him pulsing with a quiet, ominous hum — like the sea before a storm. His hands shot forward, seizing Law by the shoulders.
The body beneath his grip was soft with weakness, trembling, heatless.
Law flinched. A quiet gasp tore from his throat — not fear, not resistance, just raw, involuntary pain. His head lolled back, neck too weak to support him. His mouth parted again, voice a faint ghost of sound.
“Mugiwara-ya…?”
He spoke like someone unsure if he was awake. As if even reality had begun to slip through his fingers. But Luffy didn’t answer. Words didn’t belong here. Not when Law looked like this — reduced, wrecked, and small in his hands.
He drank in the sight.
The sweat glistening on Law’s skin. The way his lashes fluttered like he couldn’t quite stay conscious. The helpless angle of his head. The fragility that clung to him like scent — raw and vulnerable and perfect.
Luffy’s fingers tightened, ignoring the jolt it sent through Law’s ruined body.
It didn’t matter.
He yanked him up, ignoring the way Law’s body almost gave beneath his grip like wet paper. A sharp, broken sound tore from his throat, pain blooming across his face in a flash of helpless clarity — but it barely registered. Luffy couldn’t care. Didn’t care. The thing inside him, wild and insatiable, had already taken over.
“Gotta move,” he muttered — low, hoarse, almost a growl vibrating in his chest.
He hoisted Law upright, half-dragging him toward the rooftop’s shattered stairs. Law’s feet barely remembered how to work. His knees buckled with every other step. His right arm hung like dead weight, swaying with each jolt. His left hand grasped weakly at Luffy’s shoulders, trying to steady himself, just to hold on, just to not fall.
Luffy didn’t slow.
The world became a smear — ruined homes, scorched stone, broken glass catching the last dregs of light. He didn’t think. He didn’t need to. His grip was iron, his pace merciless, guided only by instinct until he reached it: an abandoned husk of a house, forgotten in the wreckage, its roof slouched and its door ajar like a mouth too tired to close.
Inside, the air was thick — dust, decay, and something faintly coppery beneath it. The place had been torn apart, furniture overturned, shadows stretched long across the floor. But there — a bed. No sheets. No pillow. Just the frame and a naked mattress pressed against a cracked wall.
It was enough.
Luffy’s grip tightened on Law, his fingers digging into his biceps as he pulled him across the room like something claimed, something he already owned.
Traffy’s breath hitched, his voice a faint, confused rasp. “What… what’re you…?” the words trembled out of him like he didn’t recognize his own voice. He blinked up at Luffy, eyes hazy. But he was too weak for clarity, too far gone to make sense of anything.
Luffy didn’t answer. He pushed him down, hard, onto the bed. The mattress creaked under the impact, dust rising in a faint cloud. Law landed on his back, his cloak splaying open completely, his chest heaving as he tried to process what was happening. He looked up at Luffy, dazed — too confused to fight, too broken to get up.
Luffy climbed over him, straddling his hips with fluid, unhesitating motion. His knees sank into the mattress on either side, the bed dipping under his weight. The air thickened, electric with pressure, as if the space itself bowed to Luffy’s will. His presence filled the room — absolute, inescapable. His hands moved, pulled by that deep, gnawing hunger that had taken root the moment he first laid eyes on Law.
He leaned down, his lips crashing against Law’s neck, teeth grazing the sensitive skin. Law flinched beneath him, a weak sound escaping him — small, helpless, confused. Luffy didn’t stop. He couldn’t. His mouth roamed lower, open and devouring, tasting salt, sweat, and the metallic tang of blood. Each inch of Law’s skin seemed to tremble under his touch.
Law’s left hand fluttered weakly against his shoulder, a pitiful motion, more reflex than resistance. There was no strength behind it.
“Mugiwa—” he breathed, barely audible, barely coherent. His voice cracked mid-syllable, slurred, like his mind was struggling to catch up with his body. “What— why…?”
His right arm lay useless, a dead weight at his side. He didn’t understand, couldn’t understand. Luffy knew that his mind was a fog of pain and exhaustion, his body screaming at him to shut down, to escape into unconsciousness. But Luffy was there, a force of nature, undeniable, unstoppable.
Luffy’s hand found his left wrist, his fingers wrapping around it with bruising force. From his pocket, he pulled a small, cold object — a bracelet of kairōseki, its surface dull but heavy with power. The one left on a flower field and later found again. He snapped it onto Law’s wrist, ignoring his own quick wave of weakness that faded away the second his fingers stopped touching the surface, the click of the clasp loud in the quiet room.
Law shuddered. His breath hitched, then stuttered again. His entire body slackened in response, as the kairōseki’s effect hit, draining what little strength he had left. His devil fruit was useless now, his body pinned under Luffy’s weight, his mind too fractured to fight back. Luffy felt the moment it truly hit — Law’s pulse fluttering beneath the skin, his muscles loosening all at once.
Luffy’s grip tightened, his thumb pressing against the skin near the metal just a fraction not to touch as he shoved Law’s wrist down, pinning it to the bed beside his head. Law’s arm bent at the elbow, his hand limp, his fingers twitching faintly. Luffy’s other hand roamed, sliding across Law’s skin so beautifully bare for him thanks to his open cloak, tracing the lines of his tattoos, the ridges of his ribs, the taut skin of his abdomen. He followed with his mouth, trailing kisses and bites down the length of Law’s torso, each one blooming red against his skin.
Law’s voice broke again, a thin whisper that barely held shape. “Stop… Mu… what’s… happening…?” His words melted away, fractured, uncertain — as if even he couldn’t make sense of the moment.
Luffy didn’t stop. He couldn’t. The ache in him, the want that had festered for so long, had turned into something raw, insatiable. Every battle, every fleeting glance, every moment shared with Law had fueled it, built it into a need that had become his very pulse.
His crew knew, had always known. They’d seen the way his gaze lingered a little too long, the way his voice softened when he spoke Law’s name. They didn’t judge him for it. They encouraged it. Zoro had once clapped him on the shoulder, muttering, “Go get him, Captain.” Sanji had teased him with a grin, saying, “Don’t screw it up, dumbass.” Nami had rolled her eyes but smiled as she told him to “Just do it already.” They were his family, the only family that mattered, and they wanted him happy — even if it meant his happiness came with teeth, claws, and a darkness he couldn’t hide.
Law didn’t know. Not yet. Maybe somewhere deep inside, he felt it — the pull between them, tangled beneath the layers of pain and confusion. Maybe it was something that could have bloomed into understanding, had he been given time. Time to think. Time to process. Time to feel. But Luffy wasn’t offering him that. Law was his, had always been his, and in this broken, crumbling room, on this ruined bed, Luffy was finally taking what he’d longed for, what he had waited far too long to claim.
His lips found the curve of Law’s collarbone, teeth scraping against the bone, pulling a soft, broken whimper from the man beneath him. Law’s head tilted back, his throat exposed like a helpless offering, his eyes heavy, unfocused, lost. He was beautiful like this, Luffy thought, in a way that made his chest ache and his blood burn hotter. So vulnerable, so broken — and yet, so utterly his.
The room felt suffocating, the air thick with sweat, blood, and something darker — something that clung to Luffy like a second skin, something that belonged to him alone. His shirt slid off one shoulder, slipping loosely as he pressed closer, his chest against Law’s, grinding against him with a force that sent shocks through his veins. Law’s voice, faint and barely above a whisper, came broken and confused, a wordless plea or protest — Luffy couldn’t tell, and he didn’t care to. He only heard the roar of his own need, the hunger that drowned everything else out.
The bed creaked beneath them, the rhythm of the broken springs mirroring the erratic pulse of Luffy’s heart. The energy swirling around him pulsed thicker now, a living shadow that clung to his skin, amplifying every sensation, every thought, every jagged edge of desire that had been festering inside him for so long. Law lay beneath him, pinned, trembling, his body weak and unresisting, as though his soul was teetering between the terror of the unknown and the exhaustion of everything that had brought him here. His chest rose and fell in shallow, pained breaths, his eyes clouded with confusion, struggling to understand.
He was fragile, so fragile, Luffy thought, his mind momentarily flickering with something almost tender. Law’s body was like fine porcelain — cracked but not yet shattered, a delicate thing teetering on the edge of breaking. And Luffy reveled in it, in the power he held, in the raw vulnerability laid bare beneath him, unable to look away.
Mine.
Luffy’s want felt like an open wound, a scar etched deep into his soul the moment he’d first laid eyes on Law. He couldn’t pinpoint it, not back then, but it had been there, the crackling tension between them from the very first time they crossed paths. Back in Sabaody, maybe, when Law had stood tall, sharp and dangerous, his smirk cutting like a blade, his voice cool, indifferent. Or on Punk Hazard, when the air had been freezing, but Law’s presence burned hot like an unspoken promise, his calculating gaze locking onto Luffy’s reckless grin like a challenge. Luffy hadn’t understood it — hadn’t known what to call it, that heat that curled in his gut every time Law spoke, moved, existed. But it was there, raw and undeniable, a pull that grew stronger with every clash, every tentative alliance, every stolen glance. Law was a puzzle to him, a storm, a flame — and Luffy wanted to break him open, to swallow him whole.
“You’re so damn beautiful,” his voice came rough, raw from the weight of time spent choking on the need to say it. The words spilled out unfiltered, unstoppable. His hands roamed over Law’s bare chest, fingers digging into the taut muscles, tracing the ink of his tattoos — the heart, the lines, the story written into the very skin he wanted to claim. “Always were. Too pretty for your own good, Traffy.”
His lips followed the path of his hands, pressing hard against Law’s chest, the taste of salt and blood lingering on his tongue. Law’s skin was deceptively soft, delicate despite the hardened scars, the muscle, the evidence of a life lived on the edge, fighting just to survive. Luffy’s teeth grazed a nipple, pulling a sharp gasp from Law, whose body jerked weakly, instinctively, as though trying to pull away. But there was no escape. Not with Luffy’s weight pinning him down, not with the kairōseki sapping the last remnants of his strength.
Law’s right arm lay limp, useless, the stitches stark against his skin, a reminder of how close he’d come to losing it completely. His left hand, trapped in Luffy’s unforgiving grip, twitched, the fingers curling faintly as though trying to push back, to resist. Luffy saw it — the way Law’s body screamed to fight, to escape, but his mind was too clouded, too fractured, drowned in shock and exhaustion. His body, fragile and broken, had no strength to oppose what was happening.
Law’s golden eyes were wide, lost in a haze of confusion and fear, desperately searching Luffy’s face for answers that weren’t coming. He was helpless. He was helpless. And Luffy reveled in the way it made him feel. Powerful. In control.
“Mugiwara-ya…” Law’s voice came out cracked, barely a whisper, tinged with pain and something deeper. Fear, disbelief. “Why… what’re you…?”
Luffy didn’t answer. He didn’t need to. His mouth moved lower, tongue tracing the taut lines of Law’s stomach, dipping into the hollows of his ribs, tasting the sharp sweat mingled with the faint, iron taste of blood. Law’s body trembled, fragile and unguarded, a shudder that betrayed the confusion coursing through him. It was so weak, so delicate—his response nothing more than a flicker of vulnerability, and Luffy reveled in it. He wanted to see Law unravel, wanted him to feel the pressure of it, to drown in the heat and chaos and maddness Luffy was determined to drown him in.
His hands tightened around Law’s sides, fingers digging into the soft flesh, bruising, marking, claiming. "So soft," Luffy murmured, almost as if to himself, his voice low, reverent, fixated. "Didn’t think you’d be this soft, Traffy. Always so sharp, so cold... But look at you now."
Law’s breath hitched, his chest rising and falling unevenly, his eyes squeezing shut as if he could block out the reality of what was happening, block out the heat of Luffy’s mouth, the force of his touch, the heavy weight of his need pressing against him. But Luffy didn’t care. Luffy didn’t stop. He only pressed harder, lips trailing along the sharp line of Law’s collarbone, his teeth grazing, biting down — hard enough to mark, hard enough to claim.
Law’s soft whimper broke through, a wrecked sound, raw and pitiful, so quiet, so vulnerable it sent a pulse of dark heat rushing through Luffy. It stoked the fire within him, a wave of savage possessiveness. His mouth found the curve of Law’s neck, kissing, biting, sucking on the pulse beneath, feeling Law’s heartbeat, frantic and alive.
“You’re mine,” Luffy said, the words a growl against Law’s throat. “Always wanted you. Always knew you’d be mine.”
His hand tightened on Law’s left wrist, the kairōseki bracelet biting into the skin, pinning it harder against the mattress. Law’s arm bent awkwardly, his hand limp beside his head, the fingers twitching in a weak, futile gesture. Luffy’s other hand slid down, grabbing Law’s hip, yanking him closer, grinding their bodies together. The friction was electric, a spark that set Luffy’s blood on fire, made his breath come in short, ragged bursts. Law’s jeans were in the way, but Luffy didn’t care — not yet. He wanted to savor this, to drag it out, to make Law feel every second of it.
Law’s body jerked again, a weak attempt at resistance, his legs shifting as if to push Luffy off. But he was too broken, too drained, the kairōseki and the shock holding him captive. His eyes fluttered open, glassy and unfocused, staring up at Luffy with a mixture of pain and confusion so raw, so vulnerable, it made something twist deep in Luffy’s chest. He didn’t want Law to understand—not yet. He wanted him to feel it all, to break, to melt into the heat until there was nothing left but surrender. Luffy’s hand slid from Law’s hip down to his thigh, fingers digging into the soft muscle, forcing his legs apart, exposing him.
Law gasped, his voice barely a whisper, “No… Mugi—” but the words were swallowed by the weight of Luffy’s body pressing against him, the relentless grind of Luffy’s hips.
Luffy’s mouth was back on his chest, lips tracing, sucking, biting at the skin, marking it with red bruises. He wanted to taste every inch, to memorize how Law trembled, how his breath hitched, how his body fought and failed to resist.
“So perfect,” Luffy murmured, lips brushing against a tattoo, his tongue tracing the design with a possessive hunger. “Knew you’d be like this. Knew it back on Punk Hazard, when you looked at me like I was crazy. Wanted to grab you then, pin you down, make you mine.”
His voice was rough, unfiltered, the thoughts spilling out in a torrent as his hands roamed, grabbing, squeezing, claiming every part of Law he could reach.
Law’s head tilted back, his throat exposed, lips parted in gasping breaths, each one a struggle for air. His right arm twitched, the fingers curling slightly, but it was useless — just a ghost of movement, a desperate effort with no strength behind it. His left wrist flexed under Luffy’s grip, the kairōseki bracelet a cold, unyielding weight right near his fingers. Law’s eyes fluttered, a spark of something — panic, maybe — flashing in their depths, but his body was too weak to follow through, too shattered to fight. He was lost, drowning in the storm of Luffy’s desire, and Luffy couldn’t get enough of it. Every inch of Law’s weakness, every trembling breath, every flicker of confusion in those eyes fed the dark hunger inside Luffy, and he wanted more — more of Law’s fragility, more of the control he held over him, more of the way Law’s brokenness only made him want to possess him further.
Luffy's hands were everywhere, rough, demanding — gripping at Law’s chest, his hips, his thighs, pulling, tugging, marking him. He yanked his thighs apart, settling between them, his body pressing down, grinding harder, faster. The friction was maddening, a wave of heat building with every motion, pushing Luffy closer to the edge, but never enough. He wanted more — needed more. He needed to break Law, to watch him unravel completely beneath him, to feel him lose himself, just like this.
His lips found the line of Law’s jaw, teeth grazing, breath ragged and uneven as he moved lower, tasting the fragile vulnerability in each tremor. “You’re gonna feel this,” voice low, hungry. “Gonna make you feel me.”
Law’s voice cracked, a faint, “Stop… please…” but it was weak, barely a whisper, lost in the haze of Luffy’s hunger.
His body trembled, his chest heaving, his skin slick with sweat and the faint smear of blood from his wounds. He was beautiful like this, Luffy thought, in a way that made his chest ache and his blood burn. Broken, vulnerable, his. Luffy’s lips crashed against the pulse point, sucking hard, leaving a bruise that would linger for days. Law whimpered again, the sound sharp, raw, desperate that made Luffy’s blood burn in response. His beast roared within, demanding more, always more.
Law’s eyes fluttered open, glassy and unfocused, staring at the cracked ceiling as though he could escape into it. His lips moved, forming words that never came, his voice too weak, too broken to make any sound. His left wrist flexed again, a faint, desperate attempt to break free, but Luffy’s grip was unyielding, iron-clad, the kairōseki bracelet a cold, merciless anchor holding him in place. Law was trapped, pinned beneath Luffy’s overwhelming presence, his body a canvas for Luffy’s hunger, his mind a shattered thing, unable to catch up. Luffy’s hands roamed relentlessly, rough and unforgiving, grabbing, squeezing, claiming every inch of Law’s skin he could touch, marking him with every movement. His lips followed in a trail of fevered desire, licking, biting, tasting, leaving trails across Law’s chest, his stomach, his throat — each mark a brand, each touch a testament to Luffy’s insatiable need.
The energy pulsed around them, a living thing that fed on Luffy’s hunger, made the air thick, heavy, suffocating. Law’s body trembled, his breaths shallow, uneven, his skin fever-hot under Luffy’s touch. He was fragile, lost, a man caught in a storm he couldn’t fight, and Luffy’s beast reveled in it, wanted to push him further, to break him completely. The grind of his hips was relentless, a rhythm that matched the roar of his blood, the pulse of his need.
His teeth grazed Law’s earlobe, biting down just hard enough to draw a faint, broken whimper from him — a sound that sent a jolt of fire through Luffy’s veins, made the beast inside him roar louder in response. Law’s body jerked, an instinctive, weak attempt to pull away, but there was no strength behind it, no will. Only surrender.
The room was a haze of heat and shadow, the world outside forgotten, burned away by the fire in Luffy’s veins. There was only Law, trembling and beautiful beneath him, and the beast that demanded everything. Luffy’s hands, his lips, his body — they moved with a single purpose, a need greater than him, greater than reason, greater than anything but the raw, animal truth of what he craved.
Law’s faint voice barely cut through the thick haze between them — fractured, broken, a desperate attempt to reach him.
“Stop… I don’t…” The words stumbled out, slurred and trembling, like his breath — shallow, irregular, catching in his throat as Luffy’s teeth grazed his collarbone. The contact made Law twitch, a soft, involuntary flinch, as if even that pressure was too much for him now. “Please… don’t want this…”
His body gave a weak jolt beneath Luffy’s — not defiant, not powerful. Just a reflex, the last flicker of fight from someone already spent. His limbs trembled uselessly, too drained to push, too slow to resist. Luffy didn’t even need to hold him down. His weight alone was enough to pin him, to keep him right where he wanted.
Luffy’s lips curled into a smile, soft and almost tender, but beneath that calm was something far more primal, far more certain. Law didn’t understand — not yet. But Luffy did. He knew Law didn’t mean it — not really.
Traffy liked him, deep down, even if he didn’t know it yet. There had been signs. Luffy remembered them all. The way Law’s eyes would linger, just a heartbeat too long. The hesitation in his breath when their fingers brushed. The way his voice would dip, not quite soft, but not sharp either, whenever he said Luffy’s name. Traffy was confused, that was all. Scared, maybe, because this was new, because Luffy was showing him something he’d never dared to feel. But Luffy would teach him. He’d show him how good it could be, how right.
“You’ll get it, Traffy,” Luffy whispered, his voice low, coaxing, as he brushed his lips along the line of Law’s jaw. “You’re just scared. It’s okay. I’ll help you understand.”
Law’s head shook weakly, his eyes squeezing shut as if he could block out the reality of Luffy’s hands, Luffy’s mouth, Luffy’s need.
“No… Mugiwara-ya… I don’t…” he tried again, but his voice caught, broke. a plea that dissolved into a faint whimper as Luffy’s tongue traced over his chest, lingering on the slick warmth of sweat and the faint sting of blood, on the soft skin that trembled under his touch.
Luffy’s hand slid lower, fingers brushing against the waistband of Law’s spotted jeans, then dipping beneath, seeking, exploring. Law flinched violently, hips jerking away in a raw recoil, instinctive attempt to pull away, his thighs tensing as if to close, to protect himself — just pure panic. But Luffy was faster, stronger, his body pressing down harder, his knees forcing Law’s legs even wider, pinning him open. His hand found what he was looking for, cupping Law through the fabric, feeling the lack of response, the absence of arousal.
Luffy paused, his brow furrowing for the briefest moment. Something like frustration sparked, sharp and unwelcome in his chest. Why wasn’t Traffy responding? Why wasn’t his body catching up to what Luffy already knew — what he felt between them? But the flicker of doubt passed just as quickly as it came. Of course, Law wasn’t there yet. He was still stuck in his head, overwhelmed, shut down by fear and everything else. He didn’t even realize Luffy was trying to free him.
He just needed time.
“You’re so stubborn,” Luffy said, his voice a mix of amusement and hunger, his lips brushing against Law’s throat as his hand tightened, rubbing over him with deliberate rhythm, coaxing something — anything — from the unresponsive flesh beneath the cloth.. “Always fighting, Traffy. But you don’t gotta fight this. I know you want me. You just don’t know it yet.”
Beneath him, Law’s breath hitched — no words now, just a low, helpless sound caught in his throat. His body was trembling, legs twitching faintly against Luffy’s hold, but there was no strength in the movement. He couldn’t resist anymore — not truly. Not when his mind was already slipping, caught somewhere between fear and submission, trapped in the space Luffy had carved out for him.
He was lost.
And Luffy would be the one to guide him back — on his terms.
Luffy’s thumb pressed harder — slow, purposeful — and the effect was immediate. Law gasped, a sound raw and strangled, his hips twitching as if caught in a short-circuit between instinct and fear. The reaction wasn’t desire. It was a jolt, a helpless shudder, his body betraying him under pressure he couldn’t process.
Luffy’s smile deepened, curling at the corners with a dark, gleaming satisfaction. His eyes drank in every stutter of Law’s breath, every flicker of resistance that faltered before it even began. There was something intoxicating about it — the way Law’s body still tried to fight, even when it was clear it couldn’t. The way his voice cracked and broke. The way he lay beneath Luffy, trembling and silenced, his pride undone.
He was his.
Law’s breathing grew ragged, each inhale stuttering as if his lungs couldn’t keep up with the collapse happening inside him.
“No…” he whispered — barely a word, more like a breath laced with panic. It was swallowed immediately by Luffy’s mouth as he latched onto Law’s neck, biting hard, sucking until color bloomed beneath his skin.
Luffy could see it — feel it — the way shock was drowning him now, eyes growing more unfocused, more dazed. His voice was faltering, almost gone, and the tremble in his limbs wasn’t just protest anymore — it was disbelief, raw and cold, the kind that sank deep into the bones. Like his mind couldn’t keep up with what was happening. Like everything he thought he understood was being rewritten under Luffy’s touch.
Luffy’s didn’t care. He fed on it — the unraveling, the collapse, the exquisite moment where resistance turned to helplessness. His hand never left Law’s jeans, still rubbing, pressing, coaxing, refusing to acknowledge the limp lack of response beneath his palm. It didn’t matter. Law’s body would learn. He’d make sure of it.
Law’s thighs jerked again, spasming inward in a last-ditch effort to close, to shield. But Luffy’s weight kept them open, his knees braced wide, unmovable. His other hand tightened around Law’s wrist, pressing it down against the mattress with enough force to make the tension hum through their locked limbs.
Law’s voice cracked again — barely a sound, a trembling whisper of, “N-No… don’t…” — but it was thinner this time, fading into the thick air between them. His body twitched beneath Luffy, a fragile, instinctual jolt that carried no real strength. It was like watching a wounded bird try to fly. Luffy didn’t move, didn’t budge. His weight held Law down, anchored him, and his hips moved slow and firm, grinding deep with a lazy purpose. Every roll of his body was a message: stop fighting it. He wanted Law to feel it, to drown in it, to lose himself in the heat until there was nothing left but surrender.
Law’s eyes fluttered, a spark of panic flashing in their depths, sharp and naked, but his body was too weak to follow through, too shattered to fight. His lips moved, forming words that didn’t come, his voice too broken, too lost. The shock was a weight now, pressing down on him, making his breaths shallow, his movements sluggish. He hadn’t expected this, hadn’t imagined Luffy — reckless, grinning Luffy — could be like this, could do this. It was a blow, a betrayal, a fracture in the world he thought he knew, and Luffy could see it so, so clearly it was amazing.
Law’s voice broke through the haze again, weak and fractured, as if trying to find words that had abandoned him.
“Mugiwara-ya… stop…” His words were barely audible, slurred with exhaustion and fear, his breath hitching as Luffy’s teeth grazed his throat, leaving another red mark. “Please… no…”
Luffy’s lips curled into a frown, his eyes glinting with a hint of irritation. He didn’t like it when Traffy talked like that, when he tried to push him away. Not when he was supposed to be moaning, melting, breaking apart in Luffy’s hands. Those weak, broken noises were better — involuntary and trembling — not these half-formed protests that tried to deny what was already happening.
“Shh, Traffy,” Luffy crawled higher, his face hovering over Law’s sweat-damp one. “Don’t talk. Just feel me.”
His mouth came down hard and demanding, claiming Law’s lips with a hunger that refused to be questioned, swallowing the faint protest that tried to form. Law’s head jerked, trying to twist away, but it was slow, sluggish. His lips tried to press tight together — resistance, yes, but the kind that came from someone too drained to follow through. Luffy felt the tremble in his jaw, the hesitant clench of his teeth — not strength, but fear masquerading as defiance. And that only drove him deeper into Law’s silence, into his stillness. Because there, beneath the shudders and breathless protests, Luffy felt it: the moment Law gave up the idea of escape.
Luffy snarled — low, primal — the sound vibrating in his throat as Law dared to resist again. That flicker of defiance was too much. He didn’t think, didn’t hesitate. His power surged through him, instinctive, absolute. His tongue thickened, swelled past the limits of human, of natural — and forced its way between Law’s lips, prying them open with brutal, wet pressure.
Law’s eyes snapped wide, a flash of pure panic tearing through the fog of exhaustion. A strangled sound escaped him — part cry, part gag — as Luffy’s tongue invaded, overwhelming, filling his mouth until there was no room left for breath or protest. And still, it didn’t stop.
Luffy pushed deeper.
His tongue stretched, lengthening with a pulse of devil fruit power, snaking past Law’s throat. The muscles spasmed in protest, the tight reflex of a body unprepared for this kind of intrusion. Law’s body jolted violently beneath him, a weak, terrified attempt to break free. But there was no strength in him, not anymore — only shudders, and the involuntary clenching of a throat that couldn’t expel what it couldn’t comprehend.
A muffled scream vibrated against Luffy’s tongue. Law’s chest convulsed as he struggled to breathe, to process the violation. Tears welled in the corners of his eyes, the sting of pain and oxygen starvation blurring everything. His gaze rolled back, lashes fluttering, his body trembling on the edge of collapse — fragile, shaking, utterly overpowered.
Luffy felt it all. The panic. The terror. The shallow, gasping effort to stay present. And it made his own breath hitch with satisfaction. This was what it meant to be his. To be owned. Law was pliant, breaking apart under him in the most exquisite way — every twitch and gasp a silent admission that Luffy had won.
The kiss wasn’t a kiss anymore. It was domination. A brand seared deep with every pulse of his tongue. And Luffy gave himself over to it completely — to the raw hunger, the need to see Law come undone.
He could feel the way Law’s throat spasmed around his tongue, the way his body shuddered, teetering on the edge of consciousness. It was intoxicating, the power, the control. His cock throbbed, pressed painfully against the confines of his shorts, but he didn’t touch himself. Not yet. This moment was more important. This unraveling. He wanted to savor this, to drag it out, to feel Law’s body break under him, to hear those moans grow louder, to see the moment Traffy finally gave in.
Only when Law’s movements slowed, when his body trembled on the brink of unconsciousness, did Luffy relent.
He pulled back just enough to let Law gasp, his tongue shrinking back to normal, leaving Law coughing, choking, his chest heaving as he sucked in air. His lips were swollen, red, slick with saliva, his eyes glassy, staring up at Luffy with a mix of horror and disbelief.
“Ah…” he rasped, his voice broken and raw. “Wha…?”
“Come on,” Luffy growled under his breath, his voice rough with growing frustration. “You gotta feel this. You have to want me.”
He moved his hand once again, stroking, tugging, trying to force a reaction, to drag arousal out of Law’s broken body by sheer will. But there was no rise, no swelling — only the dull, vulnerable heat of flesh that didn’t know how to respond, that couldn’t.
Law’s breath hitched, sharp and ragged, a pained sound leaking from his throat. His entire body jolted, thighs jerking in protest, but there was no strength in it. No power. Luffy’s body was too heavy, his presence absolute. Law couldn’t push him away, couldn’t retreat — he could only endure, trapped under the weight of someone who refused to let go.
The way Law trembled — like he was caught between trying to escape and trying not to fall apart — made Luffy’s blood burn hotter. Every convulsion, every weak sound from Law’s throat was proof. Proof that he wasn’t used to being touched like this. Proof that his body was trying and failing to protect him. Proof that he still wasn’t there yet.
But he would. He had to.
Law’s voice cracked, a desperate, “N-no…” but it was swallowed by a scream as Luffy’s thumb pressed hard against his urethra, deliberate, cruel. Law’s hips bucked, his body thrashing weakly, his eyes squeezing shut as visible pain and shock tore through him.
Luffy’s eyes narrowed, his thumb stretched, thinning into a narrow, flexible tendril, and he pushed it forward, forcing it into Law’s urethra, invasive, unrelenting. Law’s scream was muffled, his head thrashing, his body arching as he tried to pull away, to escape the agony, the violation.
Luffy’s beast roared with satisfaction, feeding on Law’s pain, his panic, his brokenness. He was exploring, testing, pushing Traffy’s body to its limits, searching for the spark that would make him respond. But Law’s screams, his thrashing, his tears — they only drove Luffy further, made the heat in his veins burn hotter, made his cock throb harder, the pre-cum soaking his shorts a constant reminder of how close he was to the edge. He decided that didn’t care that Law wasn’t hard, not really. Traffy would learn. Traffy would feel it. Luffy would make him.
His lips hovered at Law’s ear, his breath hot, shaky with restraint. “I’ll show you,” he murmured with promise, “how good it can be.”
His thumb pulled back, shrinking to normal, but his hand didn’t leave. It stayed there — rubbing, coaxing, unrelenting. Law’s body trembled, his chest heaving, his breaths shallow and uneven, his eyes half-lidded, teetering on the edge of consciousness. The shock was a weight now, crushing him, breaking him, and Luffy could see it — the way Law’s mind fractured, the way his body gave up.
That fragility struck something deep and hungry inside. His hips pressed down harder, grinding against the friction of his shorts, each rub a spark of maddening pressure. His cock throbbed with need, but he held back. He wouldn’t take — not yet. Not until Law shattered completely. Not until he stopped thinking altogether. Not until surrender bloomed in his throat like a sob.
His lips crashed against Law’s again, swallowing the faint, broken protests, his tongue forcing its way in, claiming, dominating. Law’s body convulsed, a choked sound escaping, his eyes rolling back into the haze of pain and shock, as Luffy plunged deeper, tongue aggressive, claiming space that wasn’t offered but taken.
Law’s eyes snapped open, wide and panicked, a guttural hrrk escaping as Luffy’s tongue filled his mouth again and didn’t stop there. His tongue was stretching, unnaturally so, slithering into Law’s throat, bypassing resistance. Past his soft palate, into the tight, vulnerable tunnel of his esophagus. He could feel it — the warm, pulsing walls of Law’s throat, every instinctive spasm from the invasion, the faint ridges of cartilage, the helpless, desperate contractions of muscles that didn’t know how to fight this, that could only struggle weakly, blindly. It was intoxicating, the sensation, the power, the way Luffy could feel every shudder, every twitch, every panicked beat of Law’s heart.
Law gagged, a pitiful, wet sound, chest hitching in desperation. Saliva dribbled from the corners of his mouth, glistening as it mixed with silent tears. His body seized in trembling waves, legs jerking, fingers twitching. His hrrks turned to wet, choking gurgles, throat spasming around Luffy’s tongue, lungs convulsing under his skin with the panicked effort to draw air. Luffy’s pushed deeper, his tongue probing, exploring, feeling the way Law’s esophagus tightened, the way his stomach clenched below. His throat pulsed visibly where Luffy’s tongue moved inside him. A grotesque, bulging outline beneath the skin. Luffy watched it, awed. Fascinated. Overwhelmed by the raw vulnerability of it — the complete, terrifying helplessness. Law wasn’t fighting anymore. He was surviving, barely, and only because Luffy allowed it.
Law’s eyes rolled back again, lids fluttering shut, only to snap open moments later in sheer terror. His face was a mask of agony, lips parted around breath that wouldn’t come. The wet, ragged gurgles were louder now, throat spasming and spasming, muscles tightening as if trying — failing — to expel what didn’t belong. Tongue twisted deeper, moved with slow, possessive deliberation, as if mapping every fold and ripple of Law’s insides. The intimacy of it was brutal. Beautiful in a way that was as intimate as it was cruel. Luffy could feel the heat, the slickness, the way Law’s body fought and failed, and it drove him wild, made his cock pulse harder, a constant reminder of how close he was to the edge.
His hand moved again — back inside his jeans — and gripped soft, unresponsive flesh. Law’s cock was another trembling piece of him overwhelmed by shock, pain, and the sheer weight of submission. And that, that, made Luffy’s grip tighten.
He pushed inside him again, his finger sliding past the tight, sensitive walls of Law’s urethra, probing, exploring, feeling the way the tissue quivered, the way Law’s body convulsed in agony. He didn’t pull back this time. Instead, he moved, his finger twisting, curling, thrusting in a slow, deliberate rhythm, fucking Law’s urethra with a precision.
Law’s screams broke through anyway — even with Luffy’s tongue buried deep down his throat. They weren’t coherent anymore. They were raw, primal, broken things, bubbling up from somewhere deeper than thought. His body thrashed, but without direction — wild, desperate spasms that sent his hips jolting upward, as if some last part of him still believed he could escape. His eyes were blown wide, sightless and frantic, pupils lost in a sea of glassy panic. Tears streamed freely down his cheeks, carving trembling tracks into flushed skin. His mouth hung slack around the invading muscle, stretched open, drooling uncontrollably — spit trailing down to the mattress, soaking into it, mingling with sweat and fear.
His chest heaved like a drowning man’s, back arching, ribs straining, lungs unable to pull in air with Luffy lodged so deep. Every breath was a wet, stuttering gasp. Every movement, a flinch. His body had become chaos — a storm of tremors and convulsions, each one sharper than the last. Luffy felt it all. Every shudder. Every spasm. Every hopeless contraction of Law’s throat around him. The raw nerves. The sheer, staggering overload of it. The way Law’s urethra spasmed around his finger, the way his body fought and failed against the onslaught.
Law wasn’t just overwhelmed — he was losing his mind. Going insane with everything being done to him in real time.
And Luffy was the reason why. The cause. The center of it.
It was beautiful, Luffy thought — achingly, blazingly beautiful — in a way that twisted his chest and set his blood alight. Law’s agony, the stark terror in his eyes, the way his body trembled and twisted under him, fragile and defenseless — it was all proof. Proof of how badly Luffy needed him. How deeply, how violently that need had taken root. It hurt, gods, it hurt, to see Traffy like this — undone, shattered — but what else could he do? Traffy was too stubborn, too scared to understand. And if this was what it took to make him see, then Luffy would do it. He’d break him. Slowly. Thoroughly. Irrevocably. He’d pull him apart and put him back together, teach him how to love, how to belong to someone — to him.
“I’m sorry it has to be this way, Traffy,” Luffy murmured thickly, voice muffled by the stretch of his tongue still plunged deep inside. “But you’ll get it.”
Law’s screams echoed — sharp, animal cries that bounced hollow in the dusty room around them. His body jolted with each one, wracked by spasms so intense they left him trembling. His eyes had gone unfocused now, lashes clumped with tears, pupils blown wide with pain and suffering. His lips were glistening with spit, mouth still forced open, slack and helpless. His throat bulged around Luffy’s tongue, the outline faint but unmistakable — lewd in its vulnerability. And through it all, his mind was slipping. Cracking. Collapsing inward. The shock was consuming him, blanketing him, breaking down every last defense until there was nothing left but raw nerve and instinct. Luffy saw it happening. Saw the light dim in Law’s eyes. Saw the way his body stopped fighting — not in surrender, but in exhaustion, like something inside him had simply let go.
Luffy’s body was trembling now — a violent, involuntary shudder that started deep in his chest and rippled outward, seizing his limbs, setting every nerve ablaze. He was close. So close. His cock throbbed in rhythm with every broken cry that cracked out of Law’s battered throat, every desperate spasm of his trembling body. The friction of his soaked shorts against his skin was maddening — the cling of wet fabric amplifying every grind of his hips, every pulse of heat that surged through him. It was building, rising, a brutal pressure curling in his gut and spine, coiling like a living thing inside him, demanding release. He needed it. Needed Traffy to feel it — to know it, even now, even like this.
Law was past the edge, and Luffy saw it — felt it. His body convulsed in uneven waves, legs twitching, muscles locking and releasing like a short-circuited machine. Froth foamed at the corners of his slack lips, saliva thick and stringing, a sign of how far he'd been pushed, how completely he'd broken. His face was streaked with tears, flushed and vacant, and his limbs no longer resisted — they only jerked in aftershocks. It was horrifying. It was beautiful. A grotesque kind of devotion, carved from agony and need. Luffy’s need.
His Traffy.
Luffy’s back arched, breath hitching as he bore down harder, grinding his cock between Law’s limp thighs with a desperate, ragged force that made the mattress creak beneath them. The pressure, the heat, the slickness — it was electric, pure fire in his veins. And he growled, a deep, guttural sound that vibrated low in his chest — primal, possessive, hungry. Every part of him burned with it — not just lust, but something deeper. Something raw. Something terrifying.
He couldn’t hold back anymore. With a sudden, jerking motion, Luffy tore his tongue away from Law’s throat — the slick, wet parting of contact echoed in the space between them, punctuated by Law’s choked, disoriented gasp. At the same time, his finger withdrew from Law’s urethra, returning to its normal shape as it slid out. The withdrawal was violent in its absence. It shattered something.
Law’s body seized.
He convulsed helplessly, a raw, ragged scream ripping from his lungs like it had been buried too long, trapped beneath layers of restraint that had just shattered. Every inch of him trembled — not with pleasure, not with pain, but something between, something shapeless and overwhelming. His muscles spasmed, too weak to resist, too lost to even know what he was resisting. His legs buckled beneath the weight of sensation. His mouth hung open, gasping silently, eyes wide but unseeing.
Luffy watched it all.
He drank it in — the way Law’s body betrayed him, the way his strength dissolved into pure, trembling vulnerability. That fragility lit something molten in Luffy’s chest. His release crashed through him, fierce and final, his cock twitching hard in his shorts as the heat flooded out of him, soaking the fabric, streaking down his thighs in thick, pulsing waves. His body shook, jaw clenched around another growl as his hips ground down against Law’s form one last time, drawing out every last flicker of friction and heat.
Law just lay there, boneless and broken beneath him, limbs slack, breath shallow, his eyes fluttering in stunned disarray. Lost. Overwhelmed. Fragile.
Luffy’s grin bloomed slowly — wide and unrepentant, euphoric. His chest heaved with the rush of it. This was right. This was real. This was Traffy — shattered and still his. Every tremble, every breathless whimper proved it. Luffy had marked him, claimed him, pulled him so deep into his orbit that there was no way out. And even if Traffy didn’t know what to make of it yet — didn’t understand what it meant to belong like this — he would.
Luffy would teach him.
One way or another, Law would learn.
Luffy’s eyes drifted downward — and there it was. A dark stain had spread across the front of Law’s jeans, the fabric clinging wetly to his trembling thighs. His cock hung limp, untouched by arousal. This wasn’t lust. It was something far more fragile, far more human. Law had lost control.
Luffy stilled for a moment, staring at the stain. Then a slow grin tugged at the corners of his mouth, eyes gleaming not with cruelty, but with something deeper — possessive, affectionate, almost reverent. He reached out and pressed his fingers to the dampness, the heat of it undeniable. A quiet, choked sound escaped Law’s throat, but he didn’t flinch. Couldn’t. His body had gone slack, pliant. Broken.
Traffy had wet himself, his body pushed so far past its limits that it had given up, a childlike surrender to the pain, the shock, the violation. Luffy’s heart swelled, a strange, possessive affection flooding him.
“Oh, Traffy…” Luffy breathed, voice low and velvety, the sound of it like a hush meant for a child. He leaned down, lips grazing a tear-streaked cheek. The salt of tears mixed with the tang of spit and sweat, but Luffy kissed the mess without hesitation, tender, almost doting. “Look at you, so cute. Like a little kid. Don’t worry, I’ve got you.”
Law’s body was a wreck, still shaking with aftershocks, chest rising in ragged, shallow gasps, each breath a struggle. His face was twisted in raw, unfiltered agony, not just from the pain, but from the sheer horror of what he’d just endured. There was no comprehension left in his expression — only the wide-eyed emptiness of someone who had been broken open and left to drown in it.
Satisfaction settled in Luffy. This was how it should be. This was exactly what he wanted.
He cupped Law’s jaw, thumb brushing a tear from the corner of one eye, smearing it across his flushed cheek.
“You did so good, y’know?” he murmured, tone light, but edged with something fierce. “You’re so soft like this. So honest.”
Luffy’s chest pressed firmly against Law’s, skin meeting skin in a slow, deliberate drag. He moved with purpose, grinding against him just enough to feel the subtle give of Law’s nipples beneath his own — pretty teats didn’t stiffen beneath the contact, just simply existed there, untouched by desire, dulled by shock. And Luffy adored that. That softness. That helplessness. He didn’t mind. He preferred them like this: gentle, vulnerable, unguarded. Perfect. Made to be tasted, claimed, and savored.
“So pretty,” he whispered, his lips brushing the shell of Law’s ear. His breath hitched as he spoke, trembling with hunger he made no effort to hide. “Your nipples, Traffy… so soft. So perfect. I love 'em like this.”
He rolled forward again, a slow, possessive grind, skin dragging over skin — nipples brushing, sliding, catching. Law’s body jolted faintly beneath him, a weak, involuntary response to the stimulation — a raw, helpless reaction — and that made it even better. Luffy savored it, drank in every twitch, every breath, like it belonged to him. Because it did.
He was beautiful like this — broken, vulnerable, undeniably his. Luffy had dragged him past the edge, past whatever strength or pride he’d clung to, and now Law lay there, shaking, lost in the aftermath. It was perfect. It was everything. The way Law looked now was proof, raw and absolute, of how much Luffy wanted him — how deep, how consuming his love truly was.
“You’ll understand soon,” Luffy murmured, barely able to keep the hoarseness from his voice. “How much I love you. How good it’s gonna be.”
His hand slid down slowly, lovingly, fingers brushing over the damp patch on Law’s jeans. The fabric was heavy with shame and surrender. Luffy’s touch was gentle there, like he was touching something sacred.
Because to him, he was.
Traffy was his. Every broken gasp, every breathless tremor, every inch of this wrecked, confused body belonged to him. And this — this fragile, shattered moment of broken submission — was only the beginning.
Chapter 2
Notes:
This work took me a long time to write. I would abandon it for an indefinite period, switching to other projects or just to life in general, and then come back to jot something down or make changes. I can’t really call it very well thought-out: the idea of where everything was heading and what would happen next only came to me in the later chapters.
My writing style shifted several times, let’s put it that way, during the process of working on this fic, because I’m extremely critical of myself and constantly feel like I write worse than others, hahaha. That’s why I’m always trying to change something about the way I write. As a result, this probably turned into a bit of a mishmash of styles and thoughts, but overall, I’m still satisfied with how it turned out.
And yes, our beloved characters here are nothing like in canon — but given the tags, that’s pretty clear.
Thank you all for paying attention to my work, and for your kudos and comments!
Chapter Text
A shift in the air pricked Luffy’s senses, a ripple of presence that made his head tilt, his grin widening. He didn’t tense, didn’t flinch. He knew who it was before the door creaked open, before the heavy tread of boots echoed on the cracked floorboards. Zoro stepped into the room, his silhouette broad and imposing, three swords sheathed at his hip, single eye glinting in the dim light. His face was hard, jaw tight, a faint scowl pulling at his lips as he took in the scene. His gaze swept over Law’s trembling form — his wet jeans, his feverish skin — then settled on Luffy, sprawled atop him, fingers lazily tracing circles on Law’s chest.
Luffy’s grin widened, all teeth and wild, unfiltered joy, his eyes alight with that familiar spark that danced between danger and delight.
“Zoro!” he called out, cheerful as ever, like they were back on the Sunny, trading jokes over sake.
His fingers never paused, still lazily circling Law’s nipple, soft and unresisting beneath his touch. Law’s body gave a faint twitch, a subtle, broken shiver, but Luffy barely glanced down. His focus was on Zoro now, grin bold, shameless, daring him to look, daring him to say something.
Zoro let out a long, strained sigh, the kind that came from frustration worn thin. His single eye narrowed, jaw tight as he stepped further into the room.
“Goddamn it, Luffy,” he growled, voice rough with irritation. “You couldn’t wait, could you? It’s a fucking madhouse out there, and you pick now to pull this shit?”
His gaze flicked to wrecked and trembling Law and then back to Luffy, jaw clenched like he was holding back from saying more.
Luffy laughed with a light, carefree sound that rang through the tension like it didn’t belong, like none of this was anything out of the ordinary. His fingers kept moving, slow strokes across Law’s trembling abdomen, feeling the way the muscles fluttered beneath his touch.
“Couldn’t help it. Traffy’s just too pretty.”
He dipped his head, pressing a quick, affectionate kiss to the tear-streaked skin of Law’s cheek. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw how Zoro’s gaze shifted, catching on the glint of the bracelet around Law’s wrist. His scowl tightened, deeper now, but not from judgment, obviously. Just the usual wear of someone used to watching Luffy do exactly what he wanted, consequences be damned.
“You’re a damn idiot,” he crossed his arms, his swords gave a soft clink, the sound low and dangerous. “Whole island’s falling apart, and you’re in here playing with your new toy.”
Luffy laughed louder this time, head tipping back in unrestrained amusement. His fingers paused only to pinch Law’s nipple between thumb and forefinger, rolling it with slow ease. Law’s body jerked beneath him, a weak whimper slipping free, but Luffy’s eyes were still locked on Zoro only, catching the flicker in that lone gaze: the way it tracked the motion, just for a second, before snapping back to Luffy’s face.
The grin that curled Luffy’s lips turned sharp, edged. He saw it. A flicker of interest. A moment of want. But Zoro wouldn’t touch — Luffy knew that. Not unless he said so. Zoro was loyal. His first mate. His brother. And he respected the boundaries Luffy laid down, especially when it came to what was his. Still, the way Zoro’s eye had lingered stirred something hot and possessive in Luffy’s chest. He hadn’t decided yet whether he’d share. Whether he’d let anyone else taste what was his. For now, Traffy belonged to him alone.
“Toy?” Luffy echoed, his tone light, teasing, but there was a weight beneath it, a possessive edge that clung to every word. His fingers slid up Law’s chest again, tracing the inked heart, feeling the faint, faltering pulse beneath. “Nah, Zoro. He’s more than that. He’s mine. Always was.”
He dipped down, nuzzling the curve of Law’s neck, his lips brushing over an already darkening bruise, the heat of his breath drawing another shudder from Law’s broken frame. The reaction was weak, involuntary but it was there, and that was enough.
“You shoulda seen him,” he said, voice low, reverent with twisted pride. “So pretty when he breaks.”
“Yeah, I can see that,” Zoro scoffed. “You’ve made a damn mess of him.” Luffy saw how his gaze swept over Law again, taking in the tears on his cheeks, the way his body trembled under Luffy’s weight. “You sure you know what you’re doing? He looks half-dead.”
Luffy’s fingers were never slowing, never stopping in their tracks. “He’s fine! Just needs to learn. He’ll love me soon. I’ll show him.” He leaned down, his tongue flicking out to lap at the dampness on Law’s cheek, the motion playful, almost teasing, grin sharp, daring, as he glanced back at Zoro. “You jealous or what?”
Zoro’s eye narrowed. “Don’t be stupid,” his voice was gruff, but there was no heat in it, just that all-too-familiar exasperation of dealing with his captain’s antics. “I’m just saying, you’ve got the chaos out there. Marines crawling everywhere, citizens freaking out, and you’re in here… doing this.” He gestured vaguely at Law.
Luffy pressed his cheek against Law’s collarbone, rubbing against fevered skin with a soft, contented hum.
“Sounds like fun out there! You handling it, right? You always got my back, don’t you?”
Zoro sighed again, his shoulders slumping, his eye closing for a moment as if praying for patience. “Yeah, yeah,” he muttered, his voice low. “Me and the others are keeping shit together. Barely. You owe us for this, dumbass.”
Luffy laughed, straightening up, his hands pausing on Law’s abdomen. “You’re the best! Knew I could count on you!” This time when he leaned down, he stroked his own cheek over Law’s cheek, voice dropping to a soft, possessive murmur. “Traffy’s worth it, though. Look at him. So pretty, so perfect.”
“Just… be careful with that kairōseki,” Zoro’s gaze was narrowing with concern that didn’t quite match his tone. “Don’t go touching it yourself, idiot. Last thing we need is you passed out and useless.”
“I got it, It’s fine, see?” Luffy lifted Law’s wrist, the kairōseki bracelet glinting dully in the light. His fingers danced carefully around the metal, avoiding it like it was a live wire. Law’s arm hung limp, useless. “I’m good, promise!”
Luffy’s eyes sparkled with mischief, his grin turning sharper. “Hey, you ain’t gonna ask how it was?”
“I can see it,” Zoro’s voice was flat, but there was a faint amusement in his tone, a shared understanding between them. “You’ve got him looking like he got hit by a damn Sea King. Don’t need the play-by-play.”
Luffy’s giggle filled the room. “Heh, you’re no fun! It was awesome, though. Traffy’s so cute when he’s all shaky like this.”
Zoro shook his head as he turned toward the door. “Just don’t break him completely, alright? We still need him for the plan, you know.”
Luffy’s grin softened, his fingers still moving, stroking Law’s chest, feeling the soft, pliant flesh. “Traffy’s tough. He’ll be fine. I’ll take care of him.” He leaned down, kissing Law’s face, his lips lingering, tasting the salt of tears and sweat.
Zoro snorted, his hand resting casually on the hilt of his sword as he made his way toward the door. “Yeah, sure. Just get your ass out here eventually, Captain. We’ve got shit to do.”
He didn’t bother looking back, the weight of his boots thudding heavily on the floorboards as he walked out, the door creaking shut behind him.
Luffy’s laugh was soft, but it carried a chilling edge as he sprawled on top of Law, his chest pressing down on his, feeling the delicate, unresponsive nipples, the trembling skin, the faint pulse of his heartbeat. The room had fallen silent, but the buzzing under Luffy's skin intensified, a low, insistent hum that echoed through his veins.
The air was thick, heavy with the weight of what he’d done, what he’d taken. Law was broken, marked, claimed, and Luffy’s satisfaction surged through him like an uncontrollable force, a twisted, possessive joy that bordered on madness. He didn’t need Law to respond, not now — he was his, and that was enough.
“You’re so perfect, Traffy,” Luffy murmured, his voice low, reverent, tinged with something darker, a promise made with twisted affection. “Gonna love me soon. I’ll show you.”
His hands, his lips, his entire body moved with a singular, relentless purpose, each movement driven by an insatiable hunger that swallowed everything in its path, leaving nothing untouched, nothing unclaimed. Every inch of Law was a conquest, every gasp a victory and Luffy felt his need tighten like a vise, unyielding, unstoppable.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
The sea stretched endless beyond the porthole, a churning blue that rocked Bartolomeo’s ship as it carved its path through the remnants of Dressrosa. The cabin was cramped, thick with warmth and the mingling scents of salt, oil, and grease. Plates were stacked high, meat piled atop rice and fruit like a feast thrown together for a king. Luffy sat in the middle of it all: cross-legged, barefoot, grinning wide enough to split his face, his eyes shining with the kind of joy only he could carry.
He felt giddy, boyish, shirt loose and stained, hair still damp from sea spray. But beneath the laughter, beneath the hum of pleasure as he tore into another chunk of roasted meat, there was something darker simmering in him. A satisfaction deeper than hunger. A glow of triumph that burned hot and close.
Across the cabin, Law lay curled on the narrow cot, limbs pulled tight, as if trying to disappear into the bones of his own body. His clothes clung to him, soaked with sweat, the fabric stiff and crusted where blood had dried at the seams. One sleeve hung low, concealing the kairōseki bracelet like a shackle dressed in shadow. His face was pale, almost gray, his breaths so shallow they barely stirred his chest.
Luffy’s eyes flicked to him between bites, the glow of satisfaction never leaving his face. His smile softened, turned tender as he swallowed, admiring a masterpiece only he could understand.
Zoro stood near the doorway, arms folded, his single eye fixed on Luffy like he was watching a storm roll in. Calm, but wary. Always reading the wind.
Robin had a book in her lap, but she wasn’t reading. Her gaze flicked between Luffy and the cot, lips curved into a small, thoughtful smile. Franky sat on the floor, one knee propped up, fiddling with a broken gear. Usopp was the only one who moved. He approached the cot, crouched and tugged Law’s sleeve down just a little further, covering the bracelet completely.
“Okay, I moved this thing,” he said, glancing over his shoulder. “It’s under his sleeve now. Don’t brush it by accident, Luffy.”
“Got it, got it!” Luffy waved, grease dripping from his fingers. Usopp made a face at that immediately. “Thanks!”
He looked again at Law, his grin stretching wider as his voice dropped softer.
“Traffy’s resting. He’s all right. He just needs a bit of sleep.”
Zoro made a low sound in his throat. “Rest?” He raised a brow. “He looks like you ran a train through him.”
Luffy laughed louder at that, chest heaving with mirth. “Nah, he’s strong! You don’t know how strong he is!” His voice turned breathless with pride. “He took all of it, everything I gave him and did not break right away.”
Robin turned a page in her book, almost lazy. “But you wanted him to break, didn’t you?” she asked without lifting her gaze. “And when he did, you were pleased.”
Luffy blinked once, then nodded, his grin settling into the bone-deep certainty of ownership. “He’s mine. That’s all. He knows that now.” His voice lost the bounce it usually carried. “And I’ll take care of him. No one else gets to.”
There was a pause, the silence thickening slightly as the crew processed that.
Franky let out a low whistle, sitting back on his palms. “Super intense, bro,” he said, a grin twitching at his lips. “Hey, Traffy’s still breathing, so you must’ve done something right.”
Luffy beamed at that, teeth sharp, voice rising with a fervent kind of joy, raw and burning at the edges. “He’s amazing! I knew it since the first time. Something about him just felt… right. Like he already belonged to me.”
Robin finally lifted her gaze, eyes narrowed just enough to sharpen the weight behind them, her smile curling with a deeper, darker understanding. “That’s what this is, isn’t it?” she said, voice low and smooth. “Proof that now he does.”
Zoro grunted. “Well, you certainly left your mark. Damn near branded him.”
Luffy's eyes them with a steady, calm face, voice flat with certainty. “He’ll be better for it. He just doesn’t get it yet.”
Usopp stood, wiping his palms on his pants. He didn’t speak right away, just stared at Luffy for a moment, gave a quiet, thoughtful hum.
“Everything’s good… right?” he asked, his tone light, but with the barest undercurrent of something close to concern, maybe. Not for Law. For Luffy. “I mean, he looks like shit, but you’re gonna be careful now, yeah?”
Luffy looked up at Usopp, blinked once, then nodded with an ease that bordered on careless. “Of course. I’ll be fine. He won’t be able to hurt me.”
And that was the real answer, the one Luffy knew Usopp had been digging for beneath all the soft questions and sidelong glances. It was always like that with Usopp, like he kept forgetting just how strong Luffy was, how unshakable, how far past harm he’d drifted. But that was all right. Luffy didn’t mind reminding him. That’s was exactly Usopp’s concern and Luffy knew that. Sometimes as if his nakama was forgetting how strong Luffy was, but it was okay.
Usopp exhaled through his nose, half a breath, half a laugh, his mouth twitching into a partially relieved smile. “Yeah. I get it.” He turned from the cot, not looking at Law again. “As long as you’re okay.”
Zoro’s eye cut to him, unreadable but steady, and though he said nothing, the faint twitch at the corner of his mouth was enough. They all understood the rules — their rules. No one questioned Luffy. Not really. If he had claimed Law, then Law was his. That was the way of it. No debate. No hesitation. Just truth accepted in silence.
Luffy knew they approved, even if no one said it aloud. Because that was the shape of their world: twisted, brutal, and stained by everything that came before. A world that had tried to shatter them, shame them, make them cage the darkest parts of themselves and smile through it. But they’d survived. They’d adapted. And now they could stop pretending.
Luffy wasn’t bothered by the weight of what he’d taken, of what he was all this time. He had no doubt, no guilt. Because soon enough, he would change everything. Not just for them, but for everyone. The world would be reshaped, bent, broken, rebuilt into something that finally made sense. Something that fit him.
Franky chuckled, low and rough, as his hands worked over the tool in his grip. “So, what now? You gonna keep him tied up in bed, or you planning on letting him walk again eventually?” His voice was easy, but there was a casual curiosity, like he was asking about a new project, not a person.
Luffy’s teeth flashed in the dim light. “He’ll walk next to me. Always.” He made sure that his words were heavy with meaning, final.
Robin closed her book with a soft snap, her gaze sliding toward him. “So loyal. So intense. A little scary,” she said, almost amused, as though she were toying with the thought. “But then, you’ve always been a creature of instinct, Luffy. When you want something, you don’t hesitate.”
“I never do,” Luffy grinned around another bite of meat, eyes gleaming. “And I never let go.”
They all knew it. Knew it, accepted it, and some even found comfort in it. Luffy wasn’t cruel, not in the way that really mattered, but he was absolute. Unyielding. He didn’t love halfway, didn’t take halfway, didn’t leave room for compromise. When something was his, it was his, and that was the end of it.
The sea rumbled beyond the walls, the ship groaning and shifting under the weight of the current, like it knew the rhythm of the world around them.
Law didn’t move, not an inch. Still curled up on the cot, pale, sweat-slicked, a shadow of himself, like he was sleeping through the end of something or the start of something far worse. Luffy watched him, feeling that primal satisfaction coiling inside him, the beast in his chest purring softly, content, but always hungry for more.
Time dragged, slow and heavy, the ship creaking with every shift, the low hum of the sea surrounding them like a muffled warning. Luffy leaned back against the wall, arms crossed behind his head, a smile tugging at his lips, full but not satisfied. His eyes kept flicking back to Law, an instinct he couldn’t ignore. A habit now, something as natural as breathing. And he wasn’t done yet. Not by a long shot.
“He’s not waking up anytime soon,” Zoro muttered, shifting his weight, his single eye glancing over toward Law’s still form. “You hit him harder than Doflamingo ever did.”
“Yeah. But I was gentle too. Kinda.” Luffy’s tone was light, but there was nothing gentle about the way he said it.
Robin raised an eyebrow, her lips curling. “That’s debatable.”
Luffy’s expression didn’t change. It never did when he was sure of something, when he owned something. His voice was steady, absolute, like it was the most natural thing in the world.
“He needed it.”
The words rolled off his tongue: a truth no one could argue with. Law had always belonged to him, from the very start. No one dared to challenge that. No one but Luffy had ever had the power to claim him like this, and everyone knew it.
Silence lingered for a moment, until Usopp broke it, his voice sharp with genuine curiosity as he leaned against the table, arms folded. “So when we get to Zou… what, we’re just gonna keep him like this? Tucked under your arm like a souvenir?”
Luffy shrugged, waving his hand in the air. “Nah. Chopper’s gonna check him out first thing. Full inspection. Inside and out.”
Franky chuckled. “Inside and out, huh?”
“He had his arm cut off,” Luffy ignored the snickers. “Even if it’s reattached, it could be weird. He’s gotta be healthy again. I want him to.”
Zoro snorted quietly, his eye narrowing. “You mean when we get to Wano.”
“Zou first and then Wano, if everything goes according to plan.” Robin corrected smoothly.
Franky grunted, half-laughing, half-skeptical. “Nothing ever goes according to plan.”
“Still,” Usopp added, his tone firming with resolve, “we’ll get there. I mean, look at what we just pulled off. Doflamingo’s gone, and we’ve got a Yonko in our sights next.”
Luffy’s eyes lit up at the mention of Kaido, a spark of enthusiasm igniting inside him. He couldn’t help it, couldn’t suppress the surge of pride that filled him: his nakama, his family, were unstoppable. They were strong, together, and that strength was something he craved, something he fed off.
Robin’s gaze shifted slightly, calculating. “Kaido. Depends on how the pieces fall.”
Luffy nodded with a grin, his voice full of conviction. “Zou’ll tell us. From there, we’ll know where to go and what to do.”
“Samurai, gladiators… we’re picking up all kinds of strays.” Zoro’s voice had a dry edge to it, but there was approval in it too. They were gathering allies, preparing for the storm to come.
Franky stretched his legs out, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "You saying Traffy’s a stray?"
Zoro glanced at the cot, his tone flat and dismissive. "More like a collar-wearing dog now."
“A really, really tough one.”
"Well, as long as he doesn’t bite the hand that owns him." Usopp’s gaze flicked toward Luffy, but there was no doubt in his voice when he asked, "But even if he does, you’ll handle it, right?"
Luffy’s smile turned feral. “I already did.”
They fell silent, the only sound the creak of the ship and the distant screech of a gull. Robin’s voice broke the stillness, soft, gentle. “You really are changing, Luffy. More of what you’ve always been.”
Luffy shrugged. “I just finally know what I want.”
“And you take it,” Franky chuckled. “No questions asked. But still… what if someone tries to take it from you?”
Luffy’s eyes narrowed, not with anger, but with the kind of cold, calculated danger that sent a chill through the room. “They won’t.”
A breeze rattled the porthole, and Law stirred, one leg dragging across the blanket, but he didn’t wake.
Robin stood, brushing invisible dust from her skirt. “We should rest. There’s still time before we reach Zou, and none of us know what we’ll find there.”
Franky yawned and stretched his arms up, joints clicking. “Gotta be ready for anything.”
Luffy nodded slowly, his gaze lingering on each of them, the warmth in his chest spreading like embers under skin. These were his people, the ones who never flinched, never questioned. And Law… motionless, swallowed in sweat-damp sheets and silence, unaware that his place had already been sealed. Not a nakama. Not a guest. Not even an equal. Just his. Taken. Kept. Owned in the way only Luffy could own something with a grip soft as silk and hard as iron.
He stretched out beside the cot, arms behind his head, the floor cold beneath. The creaking of the ship lulled him, and his eyes slipped closed. He dreamed of roaring flame, of thunder splitting the skies, and the echo of his own laughter ringing through it all like a promise no one could outrun.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Zoro didn’t move, didn’t blink. Just watched, silent. The stirrings from the cot were barely there at first: the faint twitch of fingers, a shallow drag of air into lungs that hadn’t worked right in hours. Law looked like a man unraveling, soaked in sweat, skin pale…
Luffy wasn’t the type to claim anything halfway. Law was theirs now. And Zoro didn’t need to say it aloud to feel the truth of it settle in his gut like steel: the man in that cot had been broken for a reason. Had to be. So he’d learn where he stood. So he’d never forget it.
The amber light spilling through the cabin window painted the bruises on Law’s throat like war marks: deep shades of red and violet blooming across his skin. Zoro sat motionless in the shadowed corner, arms crossed, boots planted. Robin stood near the desk, her fingers resting lightly on the page of a book she hadn’t touched in over an hour.
Law stirred with the slow, dragging weight of pain, every blink looking like it cut. His slightly glassy eyes slid toward them and latched there. Recognition flickered and confusion immediately followed.
“...Zoro-ya?” he rasped, then, with a fragile breath, “Nico-ya?”
Zoro didn’t answer him. Just kept watching him with a hard gaze, like the edge of a drawn sword. Robin smiled that quiet, knowing smile of hers, the kind that never reached her eyes. Like she was humoring a child too slow to catch up, one who hadn’t yet realized the game was over and the rules were never in his favor.
Law tried to sit, and the effort was pathetic: stiff, shaky limbs dragging him upright like a marionette strung up by pain alone. His breath came harsh through his teeth, one hand braced against the bed, knuckles white. Zoro tilted his head slightly, studying the motion: it was like watching something already broken trying to remember how to move.
"Where’s... Mugiwara-ya?" Law’s voice cracked, thin and raw.
Zoro didn’t answer right away, debating for a moment whether the thing in front of him was still a man or already a possession.
Robin answered first, her voice soft like silk. “He’ll be back soon. Don’t worry, he left you in good hands.” It was said gently, almost lovingly and that made it worse. Not for them, though.
Law stared at her like she'd gone mad, eyes wide with disbelief. “Good hands?” he echoed, voice rasping.
Robin just nodded, her smile never faltering. “You don’t have to think anymore. Just rest. Be still. Look... the way he likes you.”
Zoro pushed to his feet then, his chair scraping backward and falling with a heavy thud, ignored. He stretched slowly, like he had all the time in the world, like this was just another day, another job, another prisoner who hadn’t realized he’d stopped being a man the moment Luffy made a choice.
“Still doesn’t get it,” he muttered, voice flat.
Law’s gaze darted between them, frantic now. “What... what are you talking about?”
Zoro stepped forward with no hurry, no hesitation, and his shadow spilled over the bed like a curtain falling.
“He’s not your ally. Not your friend. Not your captain.”
Law blinked up at him, lips parting. His eyes locked onto Zoro’s, as if searching for a lie, for a crack, for anything human left.
Funny. They hadn’t become monsters, they’d simply become clear. Stripped of illusions, stripped of mercy. More human than Law now, because they knew exactly what they were and didn’t flinch from it. Zoro’s voice, when it came, was low and hard and final.
“You’re his.”
It was not a threat, not a warning. Just the truth, like a blade pressed flat against the skin, already knowing it would cut. The words lingered in the cabin like blood on steel that was impossible to clean, impossible to ignore. Zoro moved without hurry, crouching by the bed, his gaze raked over hollow-eyed, trembling Law with the interest of a butcher selecting where to carve first.
“You don’t belong to yourself anymore,”
Robin stepped closer, folding her hands in front of her. “He’s claimed you. Marked you. And we accept that. Every one of us.” Her voice was as calm as a lullaby, but the weight behind it was solid.
Law flinched, shaking his head, disbelief written in every line of his body, in every tremor that ran through his frame. “No... no, you—”
Zoro cut through the denial like a blade through sinew. “We do.”
Law's legs swung off the bed like dead weight. He tried to sit up, tried to rise, slow, agonizing, a mess of torn will and raw pain stitched together by sheer refusal to break. It was like watching someone try to rebuild their will from ashes. Zoro didn’t stop him. Not yet.
Robin watched with arms crossed, as if watching a child stumble toward a truth they weren’t ready to hear.
Law leaned against the wall, breathing hard, each step a small defiance. But Zoro saw it for what it was: he was just too stubborn to kneel, even when he’d already been made to crawl. So he watched, silent, waiting for the moment when reality would crush whatever scraps Law was still clinging to.
He barely made it halfway across the room before Robin reminded him, gently and without pity, exactly where he stood. A single hand burst up from the floorboards, slender, smooth, snaked around his ankle like a serpent and yanked. Hard.
Law crashed down, bones and muscle slamming into the wood with a sickening thud that echoed through the cabin like a verdict. His ruined arm — the stitched one, the fragile mess of nerve and thread — hit first. He screamed, not the scream of defiance or fury, but something lower, cracked, and human.
Zoro finally stepped forward, crouched low and wrapped his hand around the wreckage of Law’s bad arm. The whine that followed tore through the cabin walls louder this time, full of exposed hurt and distress. He hoisted Law up with zero effort, like lifting a sack of grain, and put him back where he belonged: hurled him onto the bed as if throwing trash to the curb. Law landed hard, flat on his back, mouth wide in a silent gasp, face contorted in despair and agony.
“Still think you’ve got choices?” Zoro stood over him.
Robin approached, shaking the edges of her hands over her clothes, a gesture as if she had accomplished an important task. “He still thinks he’s human.”
“He thought we were on his side,” Zoro scoffed, his hand dropping to press his knuckles against the bruised mark on Law’s neck, feeling the pulse fluttering beneath the skin. “He thought we gave a damn.”
“The delusion is the sweetest part,” Robin’s giggle echoed in the space. Zoro knew that she rarely allowed herself to do this. A carefully chosen image was worth maintaining in front of others, but now, at this moment, in front of Law, there was no need for it.
Zoro looked down. Law was shaking, his teeth clenched. “You’ve got nothing left. That fight in you? It’s just noise.”
Robin leaned in too, her fingers brushing his jaw with a tenderness that was anything but kind. “You're so much better now,” she cooed. “Quiet. Dependent. Helpless. We don’t hate you, you know. We just stopped pretending you were equal. And so should you.”
Law opened his mouth, but all that escaped was a breath so strained, it sounded like a plea for mercy that even he knew would never come. There were no protests left in him, no fight. He was empty, hollowed out.
Zoro crouched down, his voice dark, almost a whisper. “If you ever try to run again, I’ll dislocate the other arm and make sure it heals wrong.”
“And I’ll hold you down while he does it,” Robin added helpfully.
Together, they turned to leave, but Zoro paused at the door, his gaze lingering over Law’s broken form on the bed. He lay there like a discarded ragdoll, his body limp, his eyes empty and unfocused, mouth slightly open in a grotesque parody of life.
Zoro didn’t feel a thing. He glanced over his shoulder one last time, met the lifeless gaze, and without a flicker of emotion, he shut the door behind him.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Zoro found him at the bow. Luffy stood motionless, one hand resting on the railing, the other hanging loose at his side. His hat shaded his face, but even in the darkness, Zoro could feel his smile. Not the carefree, wide-mouthed grin for others. This one was quieter. Tighter. Hungrier. Real one.
Zoro walked forward, each step loud enough that Luffy would know exactly who it was without needing to turn. It didn’t matter if Luffy glanced over his shoulder or not. The bond between them was something unspoken, a truth that needed no visual confirmation. He stopped a few feet behind, his arms folding across his chest.
“He’s not sleeping,” that didn’t require further explanation. “But he’s not fighting either.”
The ocean whispered around them, the ship creaking and groaning in the dark, the wind tugging at the ropes and sails, like the whole thing was a beast lying in wait.
“He tried to run?” Luffy tilted his head just slightly. His voice was a hum that cut through the silence as if this was exactly what he’d been expecting.
“Not really. Got halfway across the room before Robin dropped him. I put him back on the bed and left him there.”
Luffy’s exhale wasn’t quite a laugh, but something deeper, softer, something far more pleased. “Good. He should rest for a bit after everything.”
Zoro’s gaze was steady. “He knows he belongs to you, just hasn’t accepted it.”
Luffy hummed agaig.
"Belongs," he murmured, Zoro almost saw him rolling it around on his tongue like it was something he could savor. “I like the way it sounds when it’s about him.”
Zoro watched Luffy’s shoulders rise and fall with every breath, the way his fingers flexed against the railing, like he was gripping something invisible, something that couldn’t be taken from him. Luffy turned his head, eyes gleaming hungry under the brim of his hat.
“Did he cry?”
Zoro’s lips twitched. “No, but that’s in the works, right?”
Luffy’s grin split wider at that, a satisfied, greedy thing, and Zoro could almost hear the unspoken promise.
They stood in a new moment of silence for a while. Zoro didn’t shift. His role was etched in his bones now: stoic, ever-present, a constant reminder of what had already been decided.
“He asked about you.”
"Did he?" Luffy’s head tilted, the spark of interest lighting his eyes.
“Yeah. Said your name like it still meant something.”
Luffy's laugh came then, soft, like a whisper in the dead of night. "He's clinging already. Thinking about me first thing after waking. I like him like this. When he’s quiet and fragile and not trying to be clever.”
Zoro watched him for a long moment. The way the night wrapped around him, made him more shadow than man. There was no hesitation in Luffy, no hint of doubt, just raw, unyielding possession that emanated from him like the oppressive heat of an inferno.
"You want me to go back tonight?"
Luffy’s fingers started tapping a rhythmic beat on the wood beneath them. "Yeah."
Zoro raised a brow, intrigued. Now that was something.
Luffy turned to face him. "But do not to hurt him. Just remind him what he is and who he belongs to."
Zoro nodded once, his tone almost bored. "Any way I like?"
"Any way," Luffy’s eyes flickered, he paused. His tone shifted, no longer playful but solid, commanding. "But gently. Some lines I don't let anyone cross."
Zoro let the words settle, a small, knowing tug at the corner of his lips. He respected those boundaries when Luffy drew them like this, they meant everything. "Got it."
Luffy took a step closer, the wind ruffling his shirt and brushing against Zoro’s arm, the proximity electric, as if something dangerous simmered between them.
“He’s not trash. He’s not a just a toy. He’s mine. That means something.”
Zoro gave a slow nod. “He knows.”
Luffy’s eyes darkened, his voice a low growl as he stepped in closer still, a possessive edge sharpening every word. “Not enough. Not yet.”
Zoro let out a soft, dismissive chuckle. "Let him believe what he wants. Doesn’t change the chains."
Luffy's expression softened, almost tender, a quiet understanding passing between them.
"No," he agreed, "it doesn't."
They stood side by side, silhouettes against the abyss, and for a fleeting moment, Zoro’s mind wandered back to the first time he had seen it. Not the spark of a leader, or the fire of a warrior but the calm certainty of a King. It hadn't been on a battlefield, drenched in blood, or in the face of death. It had been right here, in the silence of a moment like this, when the boy with the straw hat had gazed out over the horizon, speaking with a confidence that couldn’t be taught, the kind that made Zoro’s chest tighten.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Zoro’s boots thudded heavily against the wooden floor as he descended below deck, each step sinking into the thick air of the ship. The hallway was dim, the heat and salt lingering in the stagnant space. The door to Law’s cabin loomed ahead, unguarded, and Zoro pushed it open without hesitation, the creak of the hinges loud in the silence. Inside, Law lay on the bed, barely conscious, his face turned toward the entrance like he’d sensed Zoro’s approach.
Zoro didn’t speak, didn’t offer the courtesy of greeting. He closed the door behind him with a soft click of the latch and walked in, dragging a chair toward the bed. He sat down, arms resting on his knees, eyes fixed on the broken man before him.
"You really thought it was a game. You thought you could keep pace with him. Thought your will meant something."
He rarely spoke like this. But right now, it suited him perfectly. He let the words hang in the air, like a weight too heavy to lift, watching Law twitch beneath his gaze. His eyes were hazy.
Zoro’s eye narrowed as he stared down at the wrecked remnants of the man who once dared to think he was anything more than a pawn in Luffy’s game. He leaned in closer.
“You’re his now,” each syllable was heavy with the truth. “That’s all you are. All you’ll ever be.”
He could see the twitch of Law’s muscles, the way his body wanted to recoil, but couldn’t. He reached out, dragging his thumb over the mark on Law’s neck, the brand of possession etched deep into his skin. Law’s body flinched involuntarily, a soft, desperate sound catching in his throat, but Zoro wasn’t finished. The faintest of smiles twisted his lips.
“Good.”
It wasn’t a word of comfort, it was the acknowledgment of something irrevocable, something that had already been claimed. Law had no more choices.
He stood and stepped toward the bed. Behind him, the moonlight stretched across the floor like a pale road. He towered over him for a few moments, expression hard but not cruel. Luffy had given him permission, but the line was clear: no fucking. Not yet. Zoro respected that, not out of any misplaced sense of restraint, but because his loyalty ran deeper than that. Luffy was his captain, his unwavering purpose, the man he’d sworn to make King of the Pirates. Law was just a piece of the puzzle, a thing Luffy wanted, and Zoro’s job was to keep the pieces in place.
Law's lips barely moved, the sound that escaped them a rasping whisper, weak and almost drowned in the silence of the room.
“Zoro-ya…”
His voice cracked, fragile, a pitiful murmur that had no force behind it, no strength to make Zoro stop or even acknowledge it. His left hand twitched, fingers curling as if trying to reach out, to grasp at something, anything, that could pull him away from this hell that Luffy had made of him. But his body was too broken, too spent, too crushed beneath the weight of pain and surrender. His eyes flickered with something but it was fleeting, swallowed by the haze of pain and exhaustion.
Zoro didn’t answer. He pressed a knee onto the cot, the mattress creaking under his weight. Law’s body responded with a weak flinch, his chest rising and falling as he tried to shrink away, but there was nowhere to run, no escape. The kairōseki shackled him in place, and Zoro's looming presence filled the room like an approaching storm.
Without a word, Zoro leaned down, hands grabbing Law’s shoulders with a grip that was both brutal and controlled. Law gasped, the sound sharp and broken, the pain spilling through every breath, his eyes slamming shut as his body trembled beneath Zoro’s force.
“Stay still,” Zoro said, his voice low, monotone, devoid of emotion. It wasn’t a request, it was a command, delivered with the same flat certainty he used when cutting down an enemy.
His hands moved, like he was assessing a weapon, each motion mechanical and precise. His fingers skimmed over Law’s chest, tracing the ink of his tattoos, the delicate skin beneath trembling with every touch. There was no kindness in his movements, yet they weren’t harsh either, just thorough, methodical, as if he was inspecting the body of a man before him, making sure he understood exactly where he stood, under Zoro’s weight and the weight of the situation. The moment felt like an execution, not of flesh, but of will.
Law’s beauty wasn’t lost on him. They’d all noticed it: those sharp features that could cut just as easily as they could captivate, those golden eyes, that lean, sculpted body that was built for both admiration and destruction. It was clear why Luffy wanted him, why he’d claimed him so brutally, marking him with his ownership in ways that made Zoro’s own gaze linger, if only for a moment. If it had been anyone else, maybe he would’ve tasted that, taken his own piece. But that wasn’t his role here. His role wasn’t to indulge, but to serve, to reinforce, to be the silent shadow that reminded Law, over and over again, that he was nothing more than an object, a possession, something Luffy had taken and broken down to its core. No more, no less.
Law’s body jerked, a feeble attempt at resistance, his left hand pushing weakly against Zoro’s chest, fingers trembling, pathetic, and entirely ineffective.
“No…” he rasped, his voice barely a whisper, flickered up to meet Zoro’s, a blend of pain and confusion twisting behind the faint golden hue. His right arm hung limp at his side, nothing but a dead weight, useless, a silent reminder of torment he endured.
Zoro’s eye narrowed, a flicker of irritation surging through him, as his hands clamped down on Law’s shoulders again, harder this time, forcing him deeper into the mattress with fierce pressure.
“You don’t get to say no. You don’t get to want anything.” His grip tightened, fingers digging in to remind and to anchor the truth deep into flesh. “You belong to him. That’s it. That’s all you are. Accept it. Now.”
Words dropped like blades, each one meant to sever whatever illusions Law still clung to.
His fingers moved, dragging down over the mottled skin of Law’s chest: over bruises and raw crescents of teeth marks Luffy had carved into him like a signature. He pressed hard into one, as if testing the limits of what remained unbroken. Law’s body responded instantly with a shiver, a hitch of breath, muscles tensing under skin. His eyes clamped shut, as if that would shield him.
Zoro didn’t stop.
“You really think fighting’s gonna change anything? You think begging matters? You think he cares?” He leaned in, his breath warm against Law’s ear, the words sharp enough to flay. “You’re a thing now. A pretty thing, sure, but still just a thing, and things don’t get to choose.”
Law’s breath came in short, ragged bursts, chest heaving, eyes fluttering open.
“I…” only a ruined whisper slipped out, brittle and useless, before it cracked into a choked whimper, drowned beneath the sound of skin shifting under Zoro’s calloused fingers.
Zoro’s hand moved, sliding across his stomach, fingers digging into the skin, probing, exploring. It wasn’t sexual, not really, not now, just a curiosity, a precision applied to flesh instead of steel. Zoro’s touch was cold and detached, like he was mapping out weak points, cataloging reactions. Law’s body trembled, his thighs tensing, trying to shift away, but Zoro’s weight was unbending, his knee pressing down, keeping him pinned.
“You’re tough,” Zoro muttered, almost like he was making an offhand comment about the weather, his voice low and too casual for the weight of what followed. “I’ll give you that. Most would’ve broken clean by now.”
His fingers didn’t pause, didn’t hesitate, they drove harder into Law’s ribs, grinding into bone until the breath tore from Law’s throat in a ragged, involuntary gasp.
“But you…” He tilted his head, studying Law like he was a puzzle that needed breaking apart piece by piece. “You’re still holding on. Still pretending you’ve got something left that’s yours.”
He leaned in, close enough that Law could feel the cold weight of those words in the space between them. “Let me spell it out, since you’re slow to get it — you don’t. You’re not your own anymore. You’re his. His toy. His trophy. His whatever-the-fuck-he wants.”
His hand pressed down again, crueler this time.
“Keep fighting, it’s just gonna hurt more.”
Law’s body jerked beneath him, a broken reflex more than a real attempt to resist, his left hand scrabbling at Zoro’s arm with no strength behind it, fingers trembling like they’d already given up. Zoro didn’t even glance at the effort, his focus was exact, clinical, unflinching as his hand slid lower, brushing against the already dry but visible spot on Law’s groin. The reaction was instant — a sharp, involuntary jolt, a stifled, animal sound caught in Law’s throat, and Zoro just stared, watching it all like he was studying damage, not a person.
“Look at you,” he said, voice cold, without even the courtesy of disgust. “Pissed yourself like a scared kid. And you’re still clinging to the idea you’re someone?”
His fingers pressed against that place, watching the way Law’s face twisted, the way his eyes squeezed shut, the way his body trembled with humiliation and pain.
“You’re nothing now.”
Law’s mouth moved, some last scrap of defiance trying to claw its way out — “No… I’m…” — but his voice cracked in two, falling apart before it even had the chance to matter.
Zoro’s hand moved without hesitation, gliding up across too warm skin to Law’s chest, fingers dragging over one nipple, then the other, pressing, testing, watching with the patience of someone gauging the tension in a blade before it snaps. Law’s body twitched beneath the touch, breath catching in his throat, but Zoro didn’t relent. If anything, he slowed down.
“You’re quite a sight, give you that,” he grimaced but chucked at the same time. “We all saw it. Sharp eyes, pretty face, all that body. No wonder he wanted you.”
He pinched Law’s nipple, sudden and cruel, and Law gasped, sharp and guttural, a sound that left him more exposed than any scream.
“But you need to get one thing through that pretty head of yours. You’re a thing. His thing. And things?” He twisted his fingers once more. “Things don’t get to say no.”
Zoro leaned in, his weight a slow, crushing force that drove Law deeper into the mattress, making every breath feel tighter, more useless. His voice came low and calm, but it carried the edge of something far more dangerous, controlled, deadly, inevitable.
“You keep fighting, and it’s just gonna get worse. You think Luffy’s bad? You think I won’t cut you down if he tells me to?”
His hand moved, sliding up to Law’s throat, fingers wrapping around it, just resting there, a silent promise. A reminder. It wouldn’t take much. Just a little pressure. Just one choice.
“I don’t hate you. Hate takes effort and I don’t care enough to bother. But you belong to him now. And me?” His grip tightened just enough to make the point. “I’ll do whatever it takes to keep it that way.”
The cabin was steeped in shadows, the only sounds the harsh pull of Law’s breathing, the distant groan of wood under strain, the endless roar of waves pounding against the hull. Zoro didn’t move. He just watched the way Law’s body shuddered with every breath, the way his face contorted with pain and humiliation, the way everything that once made him proud had been stripped raw.
There was no pleasure in it for Zoro, not like there was for Luffy, but there was no revulsion either. It wasn’t personal. It was duty. A function. The execution of will. Law was beautiful, yes, but that meant nothing. Beauty was hollow. Loyalty was real. Purpose was everything. And right now, this was his purpose: to make sure Luffy’s will remain unchallenged.
His hand moved one last time, dragging slowly down Law’s trembling torso, fingers grazing his stomach with a finality that sent a violent shiver through him. One last violation, one last reminder. Law’s body jerked, a broken sound catching in his throat, more instinct than voice.
“Don’t forget it,” words sank in deeper than any blade.
He rose without urgency, boots thudding heavy against the wooden floor, his shadow stretching long behind him. Law lay crumpled on the cot, muscles twitching, breath uneven, body wrecked and mind splintered, stripped of whatever illusion of freedom he had left. The moonlight spilled across the room like a ghost, pale and indifferent, and Zoro stepped into it without looking back, the door clicking shut behind him.
Chapter 3
Notes:
I thinks I'll write this at the beginning of every chapter just in case, but, please, pay a very close attention to the tags!
TW for this chapter is in the tags already but still: drugs and all that stuff, so you've been warned.
Anyway, hope you'll enjoy as much as I did while writing this mess!
Chapter Text
The idea of sedating Law, a suggestion from Robin to ensure their control, was met with an eager approval. Zoro welcomed it, just another means of guaranteeing their captive remained subdued, another way to assert dominance. The sedative wasn’t just about control: it was a symbol of their captain’s absolute power over Law, and Zoro was entirely on board, every step of the way.
Luffy, who might have been expected to push back against anything that may hurt his prize aside from his own hands, embraced the idea without hesitation. He plucked the tiny vial containing three black pellets from Robin’s hand, shaking one onto his palm with a childlike curiosity. He immediately darted out his tongue and licked it, his eyes narrowing as if testing its potency.
Zoro rolled his eye with a sigh of exasperation at Luffy’s reckless impulse, something he had long since stopped trying to correct. Robin, ever the calm one, gave a soft, amused huff, her eyes softening as she watched Luffy, her expression a quiet mix of fondness and indulgence. Usopp, as expected, went into a full-blown panic.
"Luffy, spit that out right now!" he shrieked, his voice high with alarm, hands flailing wildly as though Luffy had just swallowed a vial of poison. The frantic energy in Usopp’s voice was almost comical, a sharp contrast to the unbothered calmness of him and Robin.
A single lick wouldn’t have done anything, of course, the pellets were designed for ingestion, not a fleeting taste, but Usopp’s flair for drama was as predictable as the sunrise. His frantic overreaction, though, spoke volumes about the fear that had taken root in him ever since they’d learned the horrifying details of Luffy’s poisoning in Impel Down and the toxic gas that had nearly torn them apart in Punk Hazard. Every threat, no matter how insignificant, sent Usopp into a spiral of panic that matched Chopper’s nervous ramblings over a potential diagnosis.
He was the crew’s emotional shield, always anxious, always overprotective, but it didn’t stop Zoro from silently watching with a mixture of disdain and amusement in his gaze. He didn’t need to be as frantic, he trusted his captain’s resilience, and he trusted his own strength to handle whatever came their way. But Usopp’s alarm, however annoying, was something Zoro had long since learned to tolerate. It was just another part of their dysfunctional, yet tightly knit crew.
“Gonna take more than that to knock me out,” Luffy said with his signature cheeky grin, throwing a wink in Usopp’s direction.
Usopp’s eyes narrowed in response, the suspicion written all over his face, but Luffy’s carefree confidence only seemed to irritate him more. With a casual flick of his wrist, Luffy tossed the pellet back into the vial, the small sphere clicking against its counterparts inside. His usual carefree demeanor shifted as he turned to Robin, his expression suddenly more focused, a rare hint of seriousness in his voice.
“This won’t hurt him, right?”
“Not at all,” Robin assured, her voice calm and confident, with that soothing, almost detached tone she often used when discussing something in control. She tapped the vial’s cork with her thumb, ensuring it was sealed tight before her gaze flicked up, meeting Luffy’s eyes. “It’s a potent relaxant with a narcotic effect, strong enough to keep him docile, so we won’t have any trouble.”
There was no doubt in the way she spoke. Zoro didn’t need to ask if Robin was sure, her calmness was always a sign of certainty. He caught Luffy’s grin jumping back onto his face. He trusted Robin, trusted that what she said was fact. For Zoro, though, it wasn’t about trust, it was about the result. As long as it kept them all safe and on track, he didn’t care what measures they took.
“He’ll be able to walk, right?”
Luffy, always eager for action, had already proven he could drag Law around like a ragdoll back in Dressrosa, and Zoro knew he’d jump at the chance to do it again. But for Zoro, it wasn’t about the theatrics or the show but about efficiency. Knowing whether Law could still walk, even if only for a few steps, was critical to planning the next move. There was no room for improvisation when it came to things like this.
“With assistance,” Robin caught the faint scowl on Zoro’s face and added, “No need to frown. Chopper confirmed three pellets will suffice. And don’t forget the kairōseki, it’s already sapping his strength significantly.”
“What about a second bracelet?” Usopp piped up, fishing a second cuff from his pocket and tossing it lightly in his hand. “Just to be sure?”
Franky, sprawled nearby with his massive arms crossed, raised both brows in skepticism. “You trying to finish him off completely?” His tone was half-joking, but the point was clear. Law was already a wreck: wounded, exhausted, and worn thin by everything he’d endured. Doubling the kairōseki’s draining effect seemed like pushing him past his already precarious limits.
Zoro shrugged, his gaze shifting to Luffy. “Your call, Captain.”
Luffy, ever the showman, drew out the decision with dramatic flair, pressing a curled finger to his chin and scrunching his brows in exaggerated thought. Zoro almost rolled his eye again, seeing right through the act: Luffy’s gaze gleamed with mischief, a spark of amusement flickering behind the theatrics. It was all for show, a game he loved playing to stretch out the tension, to make them wait, to feel the weight of his whims as if they could change everything. The crew stood around, watching with varying degrees of patience and anticipation, knowing damn well what Luffy would decide.
After a beat of unnecessary suspense, Luffy finally clapped his hands together, rocking back on the crate with a grin that only got wider.
“One’s enough!” he declared, his voice ringing with the kind of finality that could send any disagreement straight to hell.
The decision settled over the group like a crashing wave, and the crew shifted, the palpable tension evaporating into the salty air. No one questioned it, the unspoken rule was simple: Luffy’s word was law, and they all backed it.
The ship swayed gently beneath them, the creaking of wood rhythmically melding with the distant crash of waves against the hull. On the edges of their circle, Bartolomeo’s crew moved in an unceasing flurry, their murmurs low and indistinct as they tended to the vessel. Kin’emon and Kanjuro stood by the helm, their conversation flowing freely, though their words were swept away by the wind, lost in the vastness of the sea. The Miguwara Crew, however, were given wide berth, set apart, almost reverent in their presence.
Bartolomeo’s crew treated them like legends, like heroes whose mere existence was a blessing. Zoro’s eye flicked over to where their overly eager fanatical captain hovered, and he couldn't help but think how, if Luffy so much as dropped a hint, Bartolomeo would probably throw himself and every last one of his crew overboard just to satisfy his ‘Luffy-senpai’. It was absurd and yet strangely amusing. The intensity of Bartolomeo’s adoration was undeniable, but it came with a cost. His fawning was sometimes grating, like a never-ending buzz in the background, always there, never quite silent. Still, Zoro appreciated the loyalty, even if he could do without the constant worshipping.
Zoro watched the horizon, the outline of Zou growing larger with each passing moment, its towering form a silent promise of the temporary peace that awaited them. The chaos of their journey would soon pause, but not before they carried out what was necessary.
“He’s not gonna like this,” Usopp huffed, slipping the second kairōseki cuff back into his pocket.
He was still tangled up in his overprotective instincts, not fully on board with letting Luffy’s prize walk out with just one bracelet. Zoro couldn't help but roll his eye at the familiar spectacle. If it were up to Usopp, Zoro thought, he'd have shackled Law with at least two or three more of those cuffs just to be safe.
“I mean, he’s already half-dead. This stuff’s gonna make him… what, a zombie?”
Robin’s smile remained steady, her eyes glinting with a wicked amusement as she responded, “Not quite. He’ll be pliable, aware enough to feel every bit of his situation, but weak enough that he won’t be able to resist. It’s exactly what we need.”
Zoro grunted, his arms folding over his chest as he looked at her, not as impressed with the plan. “As long as he doesn’t cause trouble.”
Law’s possible defiance, even in his battered state, could turn into a fucking thorn in their side. The kairōseki and the sedative would rip away whatever strength he had left, though, leaving him weak, vulnerable, lifeless puppet for Luffy’s whims.
“You think he’ll even notice?” Franky asked, scratching at his metallic chin, eyeing the situation with a skeptical glint. “Guy’s been through hell. Might just drop dead the second those pellets hit.”
“He’ll notice,” Robin’s gaze flicked toward Luffy before turning back to Franky. “The drug makes sure he stays conscious, at least enough to feel everything. Luffy wouldn’t want it any other way.”
Luffy’s grin stretched wider, his hunger for Law palpable in every breath he took. Zoro couldn’t help but notice the way Luffy’s carefree demeanor flickered, just for a moment, revealing something far darker beneath: an obsession that had twisted into something far sharper since Dressrosa. It was more than just possession; it was a craving, a desire to own Law, not just in body but in every fractured part of his soul. Law wasn’t just a prize anymore: he was a trophy to be paraded, claimed, and broken. The sedative, the kairōseki, it was all part of the plan. To trap Law. To make him his. Completely.
“Gonna be fun,” Luffy said, hopping off the crate with a spring in his step, his sandals slapping against the deck as if it were all just a game to him.
Robin held the vial up, the dark pellets inside catching the light like deadly little orbs, each one a promise of what was to come.
“Shall we go administer it?”
Luffy’s excitement kept spilling over with infectious energy. “Hell yeah!” he exclaimed, practically bouncing on the balls of his feet.
Zoro, eye narrowing, jerked his head toward Robin. “Me and Robin will do it,” the decision was already made in his mind.
Only the two of them would be able to. Franky and Usopp would just be in the way, Luffy, though, Zoro could not trust to hold back, especially when his desires threatened to take over every damn minute. The captain’s hands would never just ‘administer’ the pellets: they’d turn it into something more, something darker, driven by that obsessive need to claim. No, this had to be clean and quick. And controlled, of course, so only Zoro and Robin could make sure of that.
Luffy gave an almost childish pout, his lips curling down for a moment before he waved his hand dismissively, as if to say,
“Yeah, yeah, do what you want.”
The playful defiance in his expression was tempered by the causal anticipation, the desire that pulsed just beneath the surface. He would get what he wanted, eventually. Zoro could see that in the way his captain's eyes gleamed, even as he faked indifference.
The looming landfall of Zou pressed them into action, the urgency of their situation forcing them to address Law’s condition as swiftly as possible. Time was running out.
Law was awake when Robin and Zoro entered, his body soaked with sweat, his feverish state rendering him barely able to rise from the bed, which suited their intentions perfectly. Yet, despite his weakness, his defiance was still there. Even in his weakened state, he refused to take the medicine, refused to let anyone touch him. His spirit was somehow still unbroken, even as his body betrayed him. It was almost pathetic but Zoro couldn’t help but respect that stubbornness. Still, they had a job to do, and that stubbornness wouldn’t last much longer.
Law’s injured arm, surprisingly, was healing faster than expected. It moved with more ease than anyone could’ve predicted, the fractured muscle responding better than anticipated: enough to lash out, fueled by panic and instinct. When Robin leaned over him, her dark hair swaying as she tried to administer the medicine, his reaction was swift and desperate. His hand shot out, catching her across the cheek with a force that, though weak, still left a sharp sting. The impact sent Robin reeling back, her palm coming to rest against her reddening skin, her eyes narrowing slightly. The room went quiet for a split second, the tension thickening in the air.
Law froze, his golden eyes wide with shock, and for a moment, his body seemed to collapse inward, the defiance draining from him as quickly as it had appeared. His lips parted as though to speak, to apologize, but the only sound that escaped was a broken, hesitant “Ah…”.
A weak, pathetic noise that hovered in the room like a wisp of smoke.
Robin, however, remained unshaken. Her serene smile remained in place, as though the blow had been nothing more than a fleeting annoyance, a brush against the storm, inconsequential in the grand scheme of things. She lowered her hand slowly, as if the discomfort had never even registered.
"It’s fine, Law," she said softly, her voice smooth, almost motherly. "You're not the first one to strike me."
Zoro’s sigh was thick with frustration as he strode forward, boots thudding against the floor, the sound reverberating through the tense silence. His hands were swift and certain as they latched onto Law’s wrists. Law’s reaction was instantaneous: a flare of fresh panic lit up his golden eyes, and his body jerked violently, trying to escape, but the movement was futile. Law’s body twisted and strained, his weak attempts to fight back only making his situation worse, the feverish heat radiating off him like a simmering fire.
Zoro leaned in closer, his single eye drilling into Law’s, absorbing every flicker of resistance and terror that shone in those eyes. Law was a fighter, always had been, but in this moment, he was nothing more than a trapped animal, his strength slipping away with every passing second. The pulse beneath Zoro’s fingers was erratic, too fast, a frantic rhythm that betrayed the fragility beneath the defiance. Zoro’s grip tightened. It was a solid wall that Law could not break.
“Zoro, shift a bit,” Robin’s practical voice sliced through the tension, as she uncorked the vial, the faint glint of it catching the light in a way that made the room feel colder. Law’s eyes flickered to it, his lips parting as if to say something, but no sound came. All that remained was the pitiful rise and fall of his chest, and the silent promise in Robin’s eyes that the game was nearly over.
Law’s gaze latched onto the dark pellets in Robin’s hand, the sight of them igniting something deep within him. His jaw tightened, teeth grinding as he twisted his head in a futile act of defiance, but one that he refused to let go. The resistance in him, though weak, remained.
Zoro’s patience snapped. With a grunt, he released Law’s injured arm, and in the same fluid motion, his hand shot up to clutch Law’s throat, fingers wrapping around it like an iron vise. Law’s eyes went wide, and a ragged gasp escaped his lips, the panic settling in the instant Zoro’s grip tightened, his fingers digging into the soft, vulnerable flesh of his neck.
The pressure was not enough to crush, but enough to make every breath a struggle. Law’s body convulsed under him, torso jerking up off the bed in a desperate attempt to break free, but the effort was a pointless thrash against the inevitable. His legs twitched helplessly, chest heaving as he fought for the air that was being stolen from him. His face flushed bright red from the strain, but that color quickly drained to an ashen pallor as the oxygen slipped from his lungs, his breaths shallow and ragged. The fight in his eyes wavered as the darkness of unconsciousness crept closer, his gaze losing its sharpness as his body betrayed him. The last vestiges of his defiance flickered in his eyes, but even they were fading, slipping away under the weight of Zoro’s grip.
Zoro watched the life drain from Law's body: his breath quickening, his movements becoming slower and weaker. With one final squeeze, Zoro let go. Law's head fell back with a wet thud against the mattress, his chest rising and falling in shallow, desperate gasps as he fought to pull in air. His eyes were barely open, unfocused, a thin trail of saliva hanging from the corner of his mouth like a small, humiliating detail. Zoro could feel the shift in the air, the tension between them as palpable as the heat radiating off Law’s skin.
This was the moment. Not unconsciousness, not some quick, merciful end, but a slow, agonizing reminder of exactly how powerless Law had become. Luffy’s demand for him to feel every ounce of helplessness echoed in Zoro’s mind. Law would know, would remember this moment, every scrap of fear and frustration and desperation coursing through him. It was about breaking him, piece by piece, leaving him wide-eyed and aware, with no escape from the inevitable.
Zoro shifted his stance, moving to stand directly over Law’s head, his body blocking any trace of escape. He took Law’s wrists in his grip again and pinned them to the bed in a silent statement of control and absolute dominance. Law’s gaze barely registered the shift, his head lolling to the side, struggling to focus, but unable to fully grasp the reality of his situation. The humiliation was complete now, his body trembling under the weight of his defeat, and Zoro could feel the stirring sense of satisfaction deep in his gut.
“Perfect,” Robin said, her tone warm with approval as she plucked a pellet from the vial and leaned closer. “This should make things easier.”
“Won’t he just spit them out?” Zoro asked, a touch of skepticism bleeding through. Law, even barely-conscious, was stubborn enough to try.
Robin’s fingers pressed gently but firmly against Law’s lower lip, coaxing his mouth open with a casual ease.
“Not if we get them deep enough. Like feeding a cat.”
Her finger slid past Law’s lips, pushing the pellet deep into his throat. Law reacted instantly, jerking, eyes wide with raw panic, his body thrashing as he tried to break free. His teeth scraped across Robin’s skin, a desperate, last-ditch effort to resist, but it was useless. Robin barely flinched as she caught his chin, forcing his jaw open with an ease. There was no escape for him, not now.
When she finally withdrew her finger, it was slick with saliva, the faint, crimson mark of his teeth slowly blooming across her skin.
Law turned his face into the pillow, his wrists twitching in Zoro’s stiff grip, but it kept cutting off circulation until his fingers went slack, lifeless. Zoro didn’t care; he held firm.
Robin’s patience was visibly thinning, the sigh that escaped her lips spoke volumes. With a flick of her wrist, she summoned her power, and two spectral hands erupted from the bed. One shot out, seizing Law’s jaw in a vice-like grip, wrenching it open with ruthless force. Law’s muffled protest was a raw rasp, the sound scraping against his throat like it was being torn from him. His body jerked and strained, trying to resist, but the hands held him fast, rendering him helpless, just another broken thing.
Robin loomed over him, eyes cool and calculating.
“You’re making this harder than it needs to be,” her voice was tinged with disappointment.
Her fingers were swift, slipping two more pellets into Law’s mouth, pressing them against his tongue with an ease that left no room for resistance. Law’s body jerked, his breath hitching as he gagged, the desperation in his eyes flickering between fear and pain. His body trembled with the effort of not swallowing, a pointless resistance as his panic radiated off him like heat. The more he struggled, the tighter the grip on him became, and Robin’s cold gaze never wavered. She seemed calm and almost bored like his torment was nothing more than a passing inconvenience to her.
For Zoro, watching it unfold was as satisfying as it was inevitable.
Robin’s eyes flicked toward him, and with a lazy shrug, he released Law’s wrists only for them to be immediately captured again by more of her conjured hands, tightening around them with an unbreakable grip. The first pair, still locked on Law’s jaw, forced his mouth shut, and Zoro pressed his palm over Law’s nose and mouth, cutting off his air entirely.
Law’s body convulsed, each desperate, muffled cry choked out as he thrashed against the overwhelming pressure, his gaze darting wildly, searching for any shred of escape, but finding nothing. The frantic desperation in his eyes was palpable, raw, until, with a slow, reluctant jerk, his throat bobbed, a subtle, unmistakable sign of surrender. Zoro’s arm lifted to allow Law a shallow breath.
Law gasped, his chest heaving violently as he sucked in air, each breath shaky, desperate, as if he were drowning in it. His body trembled under the strain, sweat slicking his skin, clinging to his dark hair that still remained beneath the hat they hadn’t bothered to remove even now. His coat and even the sheets beneath him were soaked, the evidence of his struggle staining the fabric, his whole body wracked with exhaustion.
Robin’s knuckles brushed against his cheek, the touch almost absurdly tender against the brutality of the situation, a stark contrast to the coldness in her eyes, utterly unbothered by the havoc unfolding before them.
“This should help with the fever a bit, though Chopper has something stronger he’ll probably use.”
"Yeah," Zoro grunted and straightened up.
The hands vanished, leaving Law sprawled on his back, too weak to even lift his head, let alone roll over. His arms lay limp at his sides, bent at the elbows, as his chest rose and fell in shallow, uneven breaths. His vacant stare was fixed on the ceiling, a look of utter detachment, as if he’d already checked out mentally, the physical torment only a distant echo. Sweat trailed down his chest in slow, steady droplets, pooling at his navel before slipping beneath the waistband of his jeans. Zoro’s eyes lingered for a moment, watching the wreckage.
"Should we change him?" Robin settled on the edge of the bed, fingers lightly grazing the sharp jut of Law's exposed hipbone, where his jeans had ridden low.
Law twitched slightly at the contact, but there was no real recoil, no strength left in him to pull away. His body remained slack, limp against the bed, his eyes staring into nothing, as if the world around him had blurred into a feverish haze. He teetered on the edge of awareness, unable to fully grasp where he was or what was happening to him.
"The pills are kicking in," Robin’s eyes flicked over Law with disinterest, as if they were simply waiting for the inevitable collapse. There was no urgency in her actions, only a cold satisfaction in watching him deteriorate under their control.
"Good," Zoro huffed, the corner of his mouth twitching into something that almost resembled a smirk, though it was more of an acknowledgment.
"Wonder how long it'll take Luffy to—" Robin started, her voice trailing off, but before she could finish, the door swung open with a loud crash, revealing their captain. His grin was wide and eager, a look that made it clear he was exactly where he wanted to be.
"There he is," Zoro muttered, rolling his eye with a mixture of annoyance and amusement. Robin stifled a laugh, her affection for Luffy’s childlike enthusiasm evident in the way her lips twitched. She didn’t hide it, she never did when it came to their captain.
"Did it work?" Luffy asked, bounding to the bedside with the kind of energy only he could have, not sparing them a single glance. His eyes were already locked on Law, his focus fixed entirely on the prize before him, as if the rest of the world didn’t even exist. The scene, the tension, everything else faded for him in that moment.
The question was perfunctory, Luffy had no need for confirmation. He was already running his hands over Law’s body with familiarity, one palm pressing into his side, fingers sliding over sharp muscles of his torso, while the other cupped his face, thumb gently brushing over the trembling, parted lips.
Law’s mouth quivered helplessly, unable to close, his body too weak to resist, his mind clouded by fever and the drugs coursing through his veins. His unfocused eyes drifted aimlessly, completely away from the reality around him, lost in the fog of delirium. He was probably barely aware of Luffy’s presence, the sensation of the captain’s touch nothing more than a distant blur in his fractured consciousness. His body, limp and unresponsive, had become nothing more than a canvas for control.
"See for yourself," Robin replied, her tone indulgent, though Luffy hadn’t waited for permission. He was already all over Law, his touch possessive, hungry, as he explored every inch of Law’s body, claiming it with a reverence that bordered on worship, as if savoring the feeling of having him in such a broken, vulnerable state.
"Traffy," Luffy murmured, his voice softer now, almost tender, as he leaned in and pressed a kiss to Law's cheek.
The action was gentle and intimate, but the ownership was clear in every movement. Law’s body jerked faintly at the touch, his fingers twitching weakly in response, but he couldn't do anything more than that. He was too far gone, too consumed by the fever, the drugs, and the crushing weight of what had been done to him. The kiss, the soft whisper of his name, it all seemed to drift by him like a half-remembered dream, his body too exhausted to fight or even react in any meaningful way.
"Tra-a-affy," Luffy repeated, his voice more insistent now, each syllable drawn out as if savoring the taste of the name on his tongue.
His lips grazed Law’s earlobe, a lingering, greedy touch before he tugged lightly at the gold earring. Then, without breaking his rhythm, he returned to Law's face, gaze still locked on the fragile form beneath him, the sense of possession suffocating every gesture. Law’s eyes remained unfocused, lost in a haze he couldn’t escape, too far gone to register the full weight of Luffy’s actions.
His eyes flickered, struggling to focus, and for a brief moment, they locked onto Luffy’s. His lips parted, a faint tremor running through them as if he were trying to speak, to say Luffy’s name or something else, anything, to break the suffocating fog around him.
Luffy’s face lit up at the subtle recognition. He leaned forward, capturing Law’s mouth in a deep, invasive kiss. Law’s throat spasmed at the sudden intrusion, his body jerking weakly, as his eyes rolled back helplessly. Luffy’s tongue delved deeper judging by the notable movements, the wet sounds of their kiss filling the room like a symphony. When Luffy finally pulled back, his chest heaving with obvious satisfaction, he dragged his knuckles across Law’s face, wiping away the sweat and saliva with a tenderness that felt more like claim than care.
Law’s lashes fluttered, his eyes half-closing as the fever dragged him further under, his body sinking deeper into the haze of delirium. Luffy’s touch lingered, fingers tracing the sharp, pronounced lines of Law’s jaw, his thumb pressing against the frantic pulse point at his throat — the erratic thrum beneath the skin, a sign of life, yet only just.
“He’s so warm,” Luffy murmured, his voice a strange mix of awe and delight, as if he were savoring the sensation, the closeness, as though Law’s body were an object to be admired. “You did good, guys.”
“Wasn’t easy,” Zoro muttered, watching the broken display with a bored expression. Honestly, what was he even expected? “He’s still got some fight in him.”
“Not for long,” Luffy replied, his grin widening as he stroked the sweaty skin beneath him, fingers tracing down the curve of Law’s chest. “Right, Traffy? You’re gonna be good for me.”
Law’s body shuddered, a faint whimper escaping his lips, but his eyes remained vacant, mind too clouded to grasp what was happening to him. He was a shell of resistance, broken and utterly at their mercy. Luffy, on the other hand, was basking in it, his hands moving over Law’s helpless form, staking claim to every inch of the vulnerable, trembling body beneath him.
Zoro was leaning against the doorframe now. “So did this thing completely turn off his head? Or is he more or less aware of what's happening?”
“Barely,” Robin brushed her fingers over the pulse in Law’s neck. “He’s in and out, but he feels everything. That’s what matters.”
Zoro watched Luffy's fingers crawl over Law's skin, playing with the waistband of his jeans. Luffy’s chuckle filled the room, low and chilling as he leaned in to nuzzle the skin of Law’s collarbone, teeth grazing in a mockery of affection.
"He’s mine," he murmured, the words crashing through the air like a heavy weight, leaving no room for resistance. "All mine."
Law shuddered, his body a trembling mess, but there was no fight left, his every movement was dictated by the whims of those who held him.
“Think we should let him rest?” Robin suggested, though her tone was light, almost teasing. They fed Law those things for a reason, for fuck’s sake.
“Nah,” Luffy said, his eyes gleaming with trouble. “I wanna play with him some more.”
His hand slid between Law’s thighs, pressing down hard through the denim with no hint of hesitation. Law's body jerked, a raw gasp tearing from his throat, sharp and broken. His face, already slick with sweat, twisted into a mix of discomfort and helplessness. Luffy’s fingers lingered, kneading with obsessive precision, his dark eyes fixed on Law’s every twitch and shudder, cataloging each reaction with intensity. Law’s head jerked to the side, his eyes squeezing shut as he exhaled a shaky, labored breath. One of his legs shifted, bending at the knee as if to push away, but it collapsed back onto the bed almost immediately, too weak to sustain the effort.
Luffy straightened slowly, his hand remaining where it was, fingers splayed on Law’s groin, though Zoro noticed that the pressure relented just enough to make the touch feel more invasive than forceful. His lips curled into a slight pout, something oddly juvenile in contrast to the raw control he held: not irritation, not even displeasure, but the frustration of a child whose favorite toy refused to light up properly.
“He’s still limp,” he muttered, almost to himself, tone laced with puzzled amusement rather than true disappointment. It wasn’t a complaint but more like a challenge, a mystery to unravel.
Zoro caught the glint in Luffy’s eye and felt the shift in the air. Law wasn’t being spared. He was just being studied. He cast Robin a sharp look with dry, silent command — Go on, spell it out for him. He didn’t bother speaking; the glance was enough, edged with mild exasperation.
Robin’s smile didn’t waver as she reached out, placing a hand on Luffy’s shoulder. There was no urgency, just the soft touch of someone indulging a game they already understood the rules to.
“He’s burning with fever and heavily sedated,” she explained. “His body can’t respond the way you want right now. We could try to coax a stronger reaction, but it would take time, and I suspect we’re about to—”
A sudden, thunderous bang shook the door on its hinges — Franky’s unmistakable knock, loud and grating as ever.
“Zou’s off the starboard bow!” he bellowed, voice brimming with over-the-top enthusiasm. “We’re here, get ready to disembark!”
“You guys done in there?” Usopp’s sharper voice followed, cutting through with thinly veiled impatience.
Luffy rolled his eyes with a groan, his hand finally slipping off Law’s limp body as he stood, the shift almost petulant.
“Yeah, yeah, we’re coming!” he called out, then cast a lingering glance back at the bed. His gaze dragged over Law’s sweat-drenched skin, the mess of him sprawled and silent, still trembling. The disappointment in Luffy’s eyes possessive too. Like walking away from an unfinished meal.
“Zoro,” he muttered, already halfway to the door, “give Traffy a hand, yeah?”
“As if I have a choice,” Zoro muttered with a low growl of irritation in his throat. He stepped closer to the cot, looming over Law’s ruined form as he lay sprawled, barely conscious: eyes half-lidded and glassy, breath dragging in and out in thin, ragged gasps. Zoro gave his cheek a light slap, just enough to jolt him into some semblance of awareness. “Hey, focus. Look at me.”
Law’s eyes fluttered, trying and failing to lock onto Zoro’s face. His pupils were blown wide, bleary, swimming in sedation and fever. He looked like a man lost at sea, adrift in his own body, helpless and pathetic, broken down to nothing but nerves and breath.
Zoro’s jaw clenched, a muscle twitching in his cheek as he looked over at Robin, his voice bone-dry. “Able to walk with help, huh?”
Robin merely spread her hands in a graceful shrug, unmoved by Zoro’s biting tone. “I said it was a possibility, not a guarantee. The sedative’s effects were hard to predict precisely.”
“Yeah, sure,” Zoro snapped, his patience frayed. He reached down and seized Law’s forearm, fingers pressing deep. With a sharp pull, he yanked him upright. Law’s body sagged like a marionette with cut strings, his head dropping to the side, neck limp, threatening to drag them both back onto the mattress.
“Shit,” Zoro hissed under his breath, catching the dead weight with a grunt. He slid his other arm around Law’s back, hauling him close in a rough, stabilizing grip, more like wrangling a corpse than helping a man. The smell of sweat and fever clung to Law’s skin, sickly and sharp, and Zoro gritted his teeth. He didn’t care how far gone the bastard was, he wasn’t about to carry him like some goddamn princess.
Luffy, damn him, just stood there watching with that dreamy, disturbingly satisfied smile, like Law’s pitiful state was some masterpiece he’d commissioned and now admired. Zoro’s eye flicked downward, catching the faint bulge beneath the loose fabric of Luffy’s shorts, subtle, but unmistakable. Not obscene, just enough to confirm what Zoro already knew in his gut. Luffy wasn’t just pleased, he was enjoying this. Every fragile breath Law took, every shiver, every slip deeper into helplessness — Luffy was drinking it in like nectar.
Zoro held Luffy’s gaze for a long moment, his stare heavy with unspoken demand. Finally, Luffy snapped out of his reverie, his grin widening as he moved to Law’s other side. He stepped in close, slipping under Law’s other arm, hands found Law’s waist, fingers curling in greedily, like he was certain someone might try to take him away.
“C’mon, Traffy,” he murmured, his voice low and intimate, breath ghosting over Law’s skin. He leaned in, lips brushing Law’s throat, nose pressed to the sweat-damp curve of his neck. “Time to move.”
There was no urgency in his tone. Just hunger wrapped in silk.
Law mumbled something incomprehensible, a slurry of breath and syllables that meant nothing. His body pitched forward like a man already halfway to the grave. Zoro caught him with a grunt, his grip ironclad and not meant to comfort, only to keep him upright. Robin moved ahead and opened the door with a polite nod that felt almost mocking given the state of the man they were hauling.
The corridor beyond was narrow and dim, the stale scent of salt, damp wood, and old rope clinging to every surface. Progress was awkward and slow, Law’s legs barely responding, he was dead weight, nothing more.
The stairs to the deck loomed ahead like a cruel joke, a jagged incline that mocked Zoro’s patience. Each step tested the limits of his temper and restraint. He could feel the muscles in his jaw bunching as he all but dragged Law upward, the idiot’s knees buckling at the worst times. And through it all, Luffy — still latched to Law’s side — hummed some tuneless song, chipper and content, as if they were on a stroll through a damn flower field. The sound scraped along Zoro’s nerves like steel on bone.
They stepped out onto the deck, the harsh sunlight striking like a slap after the dim crawl of the corridor below. The sea glittered mockingly bright, wind tugging at their clothes, gulls screeching overhead too loud. Ahead, Bartolomeo’s crew had a huge boat ready, bobbing beside the ship, already packed with the rest of their group.
Franky spotted them first, his massive silhouette shifting as he stepped forward. “Got him,” he reached out with both hands and lifted Law like dead cargo, setting him down on the bench as if he weighed nothing.
Luffy moved in before anyone else could blink, sliding onto the bench and curling around Law like some overgrown octopus wrapping its tentacles around its prey: both arms circled his prize, pulling him in, molding him against his chest. Law sagged under the touch, head slumped, his hat’s brim pressing into Luffy’s skin. He didn’t stir and didn’t resist, just breathed, shallow and soft, as Luffy cradled him like something delicate and breakable. Something that already belonged to him.
“Law-dono still unwell?” Kin’emon asked, his voice low with concern as he leaned forward, eyes narrowing at the sight of the pale, unresponsive form slumped in Luffy’s grip. His brow furrowed deeply with earnest worry etched across his face.
Luffy didn’t miss a beat. He flashed a brilliant, disarming smile, all teeth and sunshine, too bright to be real and pulled Law tighter against his chest like a favorite stuffed toy.
“He’ll be fine soon! Chopper’s waiting to fix him up.”
The words were sugarcoated, but Zoro caught the undertone: the smugness threaded beneath the cheer, the satisfaction of a man who’d already taken what he wanted and now expected the world to keep it intact.
Kin’emon’s gaze lingered on Law’s limp form, his concern still evident even as he nodded in agreement.
"The climb ahead will be arduous," his eyes jerked to the massive leg of the elephant rising from the sea, Zou’s imposing silhouette growing nearer with every pull of the oars.
Behind them, the sound of Bartolomeo’s crew, their tearful farewells and cheerful shouts, began to fade, swallowed by the distance.
Kin'emon turned his attention back to the task at hand. "Kanjuro, can you craft something to ease Law-dono’s ascent?"
Kanjuro barely glanced at Law, his indifference evident. He gave a half-hearted shrug, eyes already shifting to the towering form of Zou ahead, his curiosity clearly elsewhere.
"I’ll do what I can," his focus was completely captured by the colossal creature, seemingly uninterested in the fragile man slumped against Luffy.
Luffy’s grin stretched wider, a sparkling brightness in his eyes as he leaned into Law, his hand sliding gently over his back in a motion far too tender for someone who’d already claimed the man as his own. He murmured something soft and private, words that slipped through the air, too faint for Zoro to catch but enough to stir a subtle tremor in Law’s body. His golden eyes flickered, barely open, the dull glint of consciousness buried beneath the shadow of his hat, making him appear almost fragile — a far cry from the imposing Surgeon of Death.
It was almost comical, in a grim, cruel way. Trafalgar Law, the feared and respected pirate, reduced to nothing more than a trembling wreck, a broken man whose once sharp intellect was now clouded by fever and sedatives. His body shook, betrayed by the very strength he’d once commanded, while around him stood those who had sealed his fate — some like Luffy, fully aware of what was happening, and others like Kin’emon and Kanjuro, oblivious or indifferent to the silent suffering before them. If Law had the strength to speak, to plead for help, things might have been different. But he didn’t. He couldn’t. His will was a distant echo, smothered by the fog of drugs and exhaustion, leaving him helpless, at the mercy of those who would do as they pleased with him.
Zoro settled more comfortable on the bench across from them, arms crossed, his eye locked onto Law. There was something utterly pleasing in the way Law’s helplessness radiated — his body rigid, his every movement dictated by the hands that held him. Law was nothing now, a puppet without strings but still tethered, bound by the invisible cords of Luffy’s control. Even if he could gather the strength to form a plea, a cry for help, who would listen? The Straw Hats were legends, heroes in the eyes of those they’d saved. To anyone who might hear Law’s accusations, it would sound like the ramblings of a feverish, broken man — delusions that could easily be dismissed, their validity never once questioned. The truth, if it existed, would be buried under the weight of their status, smothered by the very admiration that protected them.
“He looks half-dead,” Usopp muttered, perched at the edge of the boat, his fingers drumming restlessly on his knee. His gaze flicked nervously to Law’s limp form, as if expecting a sudden lash out, some desperate, futile attempt at resistance that would ruin everything. The tension in his posture was palpable. “You sure Chopper can handle this?”
“Chopper’s got it,” Luffy’s hand slid up to cup Law’s face, his thumb pressing gently against his skin before tilting his head up to meet his eyes. Law’s eyelashes fluttered, a faint, pitiful whimper slipping past his lips as Luffy’s thumb brushed over his mouth, as though savoring the vulnerability.
“Right, Traffy?” Luffy’s words were soft, but the weight of them was undeniable. “You’re gonna be good for us.” The unspoken promise was chilling — resistance was no longer an option.
Law’s body shuddered, a tremor running through him as his breath hitched, but no words came — he couldn’t speak, couldn’t fight back. Luffy’s touch was relentless, as if savoring every moment of his brokenness. His fingers traced the sharp lines of Law’s jaw with maddening slowness, dipping lower to press against the rapid pulse at his throat, undoubtedly feeling the frantic thrum of a heart that still dared to beat despite the weight of everything bearing down on it.
The touch was clearly possessive, marking him as Luffy’s in front of the crew, in full view of the world. There was no escape, no rescue — just the unyielding pressure of Luffy’s grip and the cruel reality that Law could do nothing but endure.
“You think he even knows where he is?” Franky’s voice was low, filled with a strange mix of curiosity and something darker as he steered the boat toward the looming leg of the elephant, its shadow stretching over them like an omen.
“Barely,” Robin replied, her tone clinical as she studied Law’s trembling form. “He’s teetering on the edge of consciousness. He feels enough to know he’s trapped, but not enough to fight back. He’s lost... but aware.”
“That’s the best part,” Luffy said, his grin sharp and unapologetic. He leaned in, pressing a kiss to Law’s temple, his lips lingering there for a moment too long, as if savoring the heat of the feverish skin beneath him.
Zoro’s eye narrowed, his fingers twitching toward his swords, a reflex — His gaze slid toward Kin’emon and Kanjuro, but the two had moved to the bow of the boat, their voices rising above the lapping waves as they bickered about the elephant looming ahead. Kin’emon gestured wildly, hands slicing through the air as he elaborated on the enormity of the beast, while Kanjuro responded in kind, his boisterous words filling the air with the kind of mindless chatter that only the crew could indulge in at a time like this.
The waves that surged around the elephant’s massive legs were enough to drown out any other conversation, turning Straw Hats hushed, sinister words into a mere backdrop to the sound of their carefree discussions. Even if they whispered about the conquest of the world, no one would hear.
“He’s not gonna make that climb,” Zoro’s eyes flicked towards the towering elephant leg, the enormity of it casting a long shadow over them. He gave a low, resigned grunt, his gaze flicking to the trembling figure of Law. “Not like this. Hope this one,” he shot a quick, skeptical glance toward Kanjuro, “will manage something.”
Robin tilted her head, her smile faint but knowing. “Chopper will need to see him soon. I think, the fever’s getting worse, and the sedatives barely did anything to slow it down.”
Luffy, on the other hand, seemed unaffected by the bleak conversation. He waved a hand dismissively, though his focus remained unwavering on Law. His palm slid over Trafalgar’s abdomen, drifting lower with a deliberate slowness. Law’s body reacted instantly, stiffening, a quiet, strangled gasp escaping his lips. But it didn’t matter — he couldn’t pull away, couldn’t resist. His entire form trembled, caught in the web of Luffy’s hold.
“Think he’s scared?” Usopp’s voice was almost a whisper, his eyes flicking nervously to Law’s slack face. He arched a brow, unsure whether to look at his captain or the broken man in his arms. “Can he even feel it?”
Zoro didn’t need to imagine Law’s fear — it was etched in every shiver that ran through his body, every twitch of his limbs that betrayed his helplessness. He was trapped inside a shell that refused to obey, fully aware of the cruelty being inflicted on him, but too broken, too beaten down to fight back. His body trembled, the weight of his helplessness crushing him under Luffy’s insistent touch.
“He’s not scared,” Luffy’s voice, soft and almost sweet, cut through the thick air, casual and unbothered as he nuzzled into Law’s neck, teeth scraping over the fevered skin. “He’s just… learning. Right, Traffy?”
Law’s body jerked, a weak whimper escaping him, but he couldn’t pull away, couldn’t do a damn thing as Luffy’s grip tightened.
“You’ll get used to it,” Luffy whispered, like it was a promise, a quiet affirmation that this was only the beginning.
Zoro gaze settling on the colossal elephant leg ahead of them. The climb was already a daunting task, and carrying a half-conscious, trembling Law would only make it harder. His muscles tensed in anticipation, ready for the grueling challenge that lay ahead.
“Almost there,” Franky’s voice rang out, the sound cutting through the charged air, giving everyone a brief moment of clarity. “Get ready to haul ass up that thing.”
Luffy, unfazed by the hardship ahead, leaned down to press another kiss to Law’s fevered forehead, the touch lingering far too long. Law’s body shuddered, a weak tremor running through him, and his golden eyes flickered open for the briefest moment, as if he were trying to gather himself. The spark of awareness faded almost immediately, and the hollow look returned, like he wasn’t fully present, just a ghost in his own skin.
“Hear that, Traffy?” Luffy’s voice was light, playful, as though mocking the situation with his usual carefree attitude. “Big adventure coming up!” He grinned, as if it were nothing more than another one of their usual ridiculous adventures, while Law remained limp in his grasp, his body a reluctant, broken passenger to this ride.
The boat rocked gently beneath them as they neared the base of the elephant’s leg, the massive creature looming ever closer. Kin’emon and Kanjuro’s voices continued to rise in cheerful chatter, their conversation focused entirely on the monumental climb ahead. They didn’t seem to notice the tense silence that hung around the rest of the crew.
“You think Chopper’s got something to wake him up?” Usopp raised his brow, watching how Law’s head lolled against Luffy’s shoulder. “I mean, he’s gotta be able to move at some point, right?”
Luffy, however, was unfazed by the situation. His tone was casual, almost too relaxed, as though the gravity of Law’s condition barely registered to him. He continued stroking Law’s back with one hand while the other rested possessively on his thigh, his touch unwavering, his gaze focused solely on his captive.
“Totally,” he replied with a grin that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “He’s good at fixing stuff.”
The boat finally rocked to a halt, and Zoro’s eyes narrowed as Kanjuro swung his massive brush, his strokes theatrical, almost mocking in their deliberate slowness. As if the situation needed any more of a spectacle. When the damn thing was finally ready, Kin'emon flashed a thumbs-up, a little too enthusiastic for Zoro’s taste, but it was enough to set the plan into motion.
“Let’s go!” Luffy enthusiasm sparked tenfold. He shifted Law in his arms, his grin wide and untroubled. “Ready, Traffy?”
Law’s only response was a faint, broken sound, swallowed by the unrelenting waves.
mugimugiwarara on Chapter 1 Sat 09 Aug 2025 02:18AM UTC
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Lady_Clow on Chapter 1 Sat 09 Aug 2025 10:24AM UTC
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brenbibib46 on Chapter 2 Tue 19 Aug 2025 04:46PM UTC
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Lady_Clow on Chapter 2 Tue 19 Aug 2025 05:27PM UTC
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Lady_Clow on Chapter 3 Sun 07 Sep 2025 06:13PM UTC
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KitHisaki on Chapter 3 Sun 07 Sep 2025 04:22AM UTC
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Lady_Clow on Chapter 3 Sun 07 Sep 2025 06:13PM UTC
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Poa241 on Chapter 3 Tue 09 Sep 2025 08:59PM UTC
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