hey, I'm Logical 👋 I'm a chronically ill One Piece writer making a home here on Tumblr. I write reader-insert fic with heavy themes, romance, slow burns, and tons of angst, mostly Law, Luffy, and Rosinante.
all my work lives on AO3 → https://archiveofourown.org/users/LogicalEmpathy
currently working on:
The Demon Prince's Forbidden Love (Demon AU, Rosinatexreader ongoing)
For the Sun Chases the Moon (LawLu modern AU, ongoing)
Three Hearts Entwined (Omegaverse, LawxLuffyxReader, Reverse Harem, ongoing)
You See Everything, Both Invisible and Inbetween (Modern AU, Lawxchronically ill reader, ongoing)
l posts are tagged with content warnings | 18+ content present
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he found his fated mate abandoned in an alleyway. you were still waiting for the alpha who left you there.
Three Hearts Entwined
| Law x Luffy x Reader | Chapter 1 Excerpt
| omegaverse | modern AU | dark themes | hurt/comfort | reverse harem | slow burn |
Law's prowling eyes searched the washed out streets and abandoned alleyways. Every step drawing him closer, inch by inch until finally he located the source of that sweet, floral aroma. Tucked in between two buildings, a desolate back street filled with discarded bottles and cardboard boxes was the place where his mate was hiding.
He crouched down to get a better look and he was met with a pair of wide, unblinking eyes. You were shivering uncontrollably and clutching at your side. Looking more closely he noticed the small pool of blood staining your ragged garments.
Law drew in a scant breath and reached his hand out in an attempt to soothe you. Your scent then shifted and you began to emit a burning scent, bitter and unpleasant. You let out a faint whimper and a quiet sob that stabbed through his heart. Law had never seen an omega so neglected, left out in the cold to slowly die.
"Hey, it's alright. I'm not going to hurt you. I'm here to help."
"You w-won't?" You poked your head out slightly, scanning the dark alleyway. "My alpha, he promised to come back… I have to stay here until he does."
Law bit the inside of his mouth to prevent the growl that threatened to escape his lips. Anger twisted up inside him and he fought to stay composed.
"We can find him later. For now we need to get you out of this rain, you're hurt."
"I know. It was an accident. He promised to get help and that he'd be right back." Your eyes swelled with tears. "I tried to be good, I swear! It was just an accident! He didn't mean to hurt me…"
read the full story on AO3 → https://archiveofourown.org/works/70856431/chapters/184223651
“why do some fanfic writers write non-con fics when it’s for the sake of smut and romanticized?”
some victims and survivors use dark fiction to cope and heal from their trauma, because in their fics, they are in control of what happens. they can turn the table and turn what happens into something that’s not traumatizing. and they can do that because they don’t owe you anything.
it’s a kink to some people, even though they were never victims. people can enjoy it and find it hot because at the end of the day it’s just a fantasy. it’s not real. they don’t owe you anything.
it’s cathartic and/or therapeutic to some to see their favorite fictional characters suffer. that’s why whump is such a popular trope; people love putting their fictional little guys through hell. non-con is a part of whump. and these people don’t owe you anything.
fanfic writers can write whatever they want, however they want. they don’t owe you anything.
I also suggest that you look up cnc kink and why so many couples are into it.
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i get so emotional every time i think about fanfic culture. it's just so beautiful that people are writing and anonymously posting these thousand-word stories about characters we all love and not even getting any money or public fame from it. it's literally just for the love of the game.
shout out to everyone who participates in fanfic culture, be it reading or writing fanfics. you are contributing to such a lovely thing <3
one look at the man on stage and Luffy was done for.
For the Sun Chases the Moon
| LawLu | Chapter 1 Excerpt |
| modern AU | ballet & boxing | fluff & angst | romance |
The stage lights come on, drenching the space with a soft blue light. The sound of violins fill the air, the music setting a lighthearted tone. Tall twisting trees and black silhouetted shrubs stand towards the back of the stage.
A quartet of ballerinas flutter onto the stage in a flurry of lively movement. Dancing on pointe, their feet barely touching the ground as they glide past one another. Their powder-blue ensembles made of fine tulle bouncing with their movements. Their steps are graceful and light, each precise and poised.
Luffy's eyes follow the various dancers across the stage when suddenly the music shifts and the first key of a piano is played. Out of the shadows appears a tall, lean figure. The ballerinas continue to dance and pirouette around the stage almost as if they haven't noticed the presence of the man standing behind them.
Lingering in the back, atop the twisted tree roots, the man continues to watch the dancers. His golden eyes shift about with an intense commanding gaze. The same piano note is played, albeit only briefly and catches Luffy off guard. The sound is low and ominous, almost like a warning.
The man disappears from view and the ballerinas continue to expertly twirl and pirouette in time to the music. The mood is once again cheerful and joyous. But now, Luffy is wondering if the strange figure from before will return.
The ballerinas' performance carries on for another five or so minutes and Luffy shifts about in his seat. He can feel his eyes drooping. He lets out a low yawn. This is just as boring as he expected it to be. It hasn't been long since the show began but it already feels like an eternity. Why did Rayleigh even put him up to this?
In one swift movement, the man reappears at the front of the stage. He has a worried look in his eyes, his hand outstretched in front of him. This must be Oberon, King of the Faeries. Atop his head is a gilded crown of leaves. Vibrant green makeup is painted across the man's sharp features. His costume is made of various green fabrics that are both loosely draped and tightly wrapped around his masculine frame. His long legs are covered by a green leotard.
Luffy's heart clenches. He sits himself up and drinks in the man's mesmerising form, from his dark hair to his muscular limbs, his narrow waist and those amber eyes. Luffy doesn't think he's ever seen anyone more handsome. With just one appearance, Oberon has made himself known and Luffy can't tear his eyes away from the stage.
read the full story on AO3 → https://archiveofourown.org/works/69709776/chapters/180866646
The subtle thing that absolutely melts my heart about Trafalgar Law every time I think about it is the way the humour around his character changes before and during/after Wano.
He has been a very entertaining character since introduction but during Punk Hazard and Dressrosa the gags are always about the things happening to him (reacting to the Strawhats for example). He is never an active participant, more so a crash dummy or, well... a puppet on strings.
And then we meet back up with him in Wano and what is the very first thing he does? Troll Luffy. And then he disguises himself with the stupid bucket hat, he fanboys about his favourite childhood comic, he sits on Sanji, teleports a step in front of Robin, uses Haki to de-feminize himself!
He's no longer just a passive sufferer of whatever fate (Oda) has in store. He's his very own clown.
I have spent a significant portion of my life sick in bed. This means I have read... a lot of fanfiction. I do not want to run the numbers (for my own sanity) but there is a nonzero chance that I have read a greater volume of fanfiction than most of you will in a lifetime (yes, even in a tumblr crowd, where I have some real competition 😆).
For a number of years I was really embarrassed by this because for most of my life, I've fit best with the 'socially elitist nerd' set. You know - the ones who don't care if you make a little less eye contact, as long as your performance of intelligence can make them feel intelligent too. I "passed" there. So more than a decade of constant fluff and rom-com "junk" really felt like something I should be ashamed of.
But I've realized recently what fanfiction (or any free web fiction) really is. It's the author's hopes. It's the author's fears. It's all the things you wouldn't write to publish because they feel too sad, or sinful, or sacred.
Without really thinking about it, I've been drinking from the well of human desire - from fear, and love, and lust. I've been reading your precious wishes for family, or protection, or connection. I've been learning how you dream life could be.
Thank you to every writer whose work I have read or will read someday. Thank you for sharing the most precious parts of your heart, even when you didn't realize what you were doing. To every writer out there - every middle schooler with dreams, every suburban mom wishing her life could be something more. You reached out into the oblivion with the piece of yourself you probably don't even share with those closest. And somewhere in this world, a person noticed. Your dreams and hopes and wishes became a piece of me too.
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The things Law notices when you won't say anything
Law x Reader | chronic illness headcanons |
hurt/comfort | slow burn | domestic | reader with chronic illness
Your grip
The moment your hand entwines with his Law notices something is off. You fingers feel loose and lack their usual warmth. He doesn't say anything immediately. He never does. Instead he strengthens his hold, keeping your hand firm in his, holding the weight for you. Later on he'll bring your hand up to lips. Just once. Just so you know he noticed.
Your breathing
Law hears it before he sees it. The way you draw in each breath in short, measured takes. Then he sees the way your pupils dilate, the heavy rise and fall of your chest. Your body barely able to hold you upright. He doesn't say anything. He calmly steps over to you and rests his hand against the small of your back. Steady and warm, reassuring. He breathes with you, until yours evens out again.
The way you move
The moment you rise out of your sitting position Law catches the tremble in your arms, the shaking in your legs, the strain on your fatigued body. You reach out to grasp the nearest surface, steadying you as you walk. He stands up and quietly wraps his arm around you. The warmth of his embrace a reminder that you're not alone.
Your eyes
Law comes home and despite his own exhaustion from his long shift when your eyes meet he doesn't miss the dark crescents resting under them. The kind that have lingered there for days. He doesn't make a comment. Rather he simply puts down his bag, walks over to you and gently presses a kiss to your forehead. He sees you and sometimes that's enough.
The Surgeon of Death should choose his words more carefully. He wouldn’t want you to get the wrong idea, would he?
pairing: trafalgar law x reader
warning(s): suggestive language, idk fever?
a/n: as (perhaps jokingly) requested by @settingmyheartablaze in the comment section of this post.
I do not give anyone permission to copy, repost, or translate my work. This includes to A.I. programs. However, you are free to like, comment, and/or reblog it.
Huh, you think to yourself. Since when did the Polar Tang spin like a carousel?
Of course, the thought itself is stupid, but as you brace yourself against the nearest wall the Polar Tang has to offer, you can’t help but feel that the question is a completely valid one. After all, the room is spinning, and you do feel like if you keep moving, you’ll throw up—just like a child on a carousel who had eaten too much cotton candy.
You swallow some bile that had crawled up your throat and blink a couple times, attempting to let the room slow to a stop. It works momentarily, and you push off the metal wall of the Tang and continue on your sad journey to the kitchen. Surely some tea will ease your stomach.
When you make it to the kitchen, you’re not alone. Your captain is leaning against the counter with a cup of coffee, staring moodily into the bitter liquid. He looks up as you push open the door and nods in acknowledgment before turning back to his coffee, lost in his thoughts. You wave clumsily and push forward towards the counter where you can make some tea.
Law watches you quietly as you stumble into the room, and he merely raises an eyebrow as he watches you clumsily reach for the necessary equipment and ingredients to make tea. After your hand misses the tea and you stumble a little to the right, he purses his lips and moves. Setting his coffee down, he reaches for your arm to steady you.
He says your name. You look up at him and squint, willing your eyes to focus on the man in front of you. You end up looking a little to his right because your vision is still swimming and there are at least 3 Laws standing in front of you, by your count.
Law takes the back of his hand and rests it against your forehead, letting out an irritated sigh as he frowns.
“You’re hot,” he deadpans. He lets his head roll back as he takes in a deep breath, his medical brain running through treatment options as he decides his best course of action for treating your fever.
You choke at his words, however, quickly bringing Law’s attention back to you. “You okay?” He asks at the same moment you say:
“Are you flirting with me?” You squint at him again, eyes still refusing to focus fully (but you’re down to 2 Laws now).
“No,” Law says, tone emotionless. “I think you have a fever.”
You pout. “Boo. I liked it better when you were flirting with me.”
Law fails to hide a smirk. “I wouldn’t flirt with a sick patient. That’s unethical.”
“Not flirting with me is unethical, doctor.”
“Let’s get you to bed.”
“See? Now you’re totally flirting with me. Propositioning me.”
“That is not what I meant, Y/N,” he states.
“You called me hot and asked me to bed,” you argue.
“You’re riddled with fever.”
“So I’m hot?”
“Yes.”
“See!”
“Y/N,” Law says warningly, a fond irritation in his voice.
“Law,” you slur slightly, tilting into his chest as your ill body loses strength.
“You need to lie down.”
“I don’t feel good,” you mumble, burrowing your face into Law’s chest.
“I bet you don’t. C’mere,” he says, wrapping one arm around you and bending slightly to hook his other arm beneath your legs, and then he hoists you into his arms, bridal style, with a small, short grunt.
“Are’ya carryin’ me now?” You slur, eyes heavy and drooping closed.
Law hums in acknowledgment.
“Law? Will’ya stay with me?” You ask.
“Of course.”
“‘cuz ‘m hot?”
“Yes, because you’re hot,” he agrees, finally choosing to play into your teasing.
“Knew it,” you say before drifting off. You don’t even feel when Law lowers you into the bed and runs a hand over your head affectionately.
you had stopped expecting anyone to really see you. he saw you anyway.
You See Everything, Both Invisible and Inbetween
| Law x Reader | Chapter 1 Excerpt |
| modern AU | chronic illness | slow burn | hurt/comfort | dark themes |
“How long has she been waiting?” You heard him ask, his voice deep, his tone commanding.
“Seven hours.” The nurse sharply replied, not even lifting her eyes from her desk. “Her condition isn’t that serious. Probably just a bad period. She doesn’t really need to be here.”
Rage sharply rose in your chest, tight and unclenching. Your breaths came sharp. Even now they wouldn’t believe you.
“Let me see her chart.”
The nurse handed him a clipboard and returned to her work. You watched the doctor quickly scan the page and a small frown pulled at his lips. You wondered what he was thinking, if he was about to ask you to leave or scold you for wasting the hospital’s time and resources.
You returned your focus back to the ticking clock hanging on the wall, resigning yourself to your fate. The pain didn’t relent for a second. You were just going to have to endure it. Tears pricked at your eyes and you bit down on your lip, your body shaking.
You heard your name being spoken and you slowly turned your head to face the doctor who stood before you. His golden eyes meeting your own, silently assessing you.
“Yes?”
He pulled a stool across the floor and sat down. “My name is Dr. Trafalgar Law. I’m one of the doctors here. Could you tell me what brought you in here today?”
You stared at him and wondered briefly whether you were hallucinating in your sleep deprived state. Sharp pain ripped through you and you whimpered. The room became blurry as you struggled to focus. You felt ready to collapse at any moment.
A steady hand gripped your arm and when your vision cleared you saw the doctor looking at you with a concerned expression.
“Are you okay?” He asked and pulled his hand away.
You nodded and mustered up a small smile. “I’m just in pain.”
“Where is your pain?”
You rubbed your midsection. “In my lower abdomen. Don’t worry, it’s not appendicitis.”
The doctor raised an eyebrow and nodded. “Right. Why don’t you come with me and I’ll perform a proper examination.”
He stood up then and you followed suit, shakily standing up while the pain continued to sear through you. You struggled to stand fully upright and silently wished you had remembered your cane. In your haste to get here you had left it behind. A mistake you were paying for now while every step forwards felt wobblier than the last.
The doctor led you into an examination room a short distance from the waiting area and you sat yourself down on the bed. He promptly shut the door and took a seat. For a moment you took a proper look at him, noticing the black tattoos decorating his hands and the golden hoop earrings that dangled from his ears. What sort of doctor had the word ‘death’ tattooed on his fingers?
“Can you tell me a bit more about what’s been going on? Your symptoms, how have you been managing them?”
His voice cut you out of your thoughts and you hurriedly nodded. “I’ve just been in more pain since the effects of the infusions are starting to wear off. The next round is due in a couple of weeks so I only need something to last me until then.” You watched his expression shift into one of skepticism and quickly added, “I have them every six months. Pretty routine.”
“Any other symptoms?” He curtly asked.
“Just the usual fatigue, weakness, light-headedness, nausea. Some days I have this brain fog that won’t go away. I also can’t stand up for long periods.”
He dropped his gaze and scribbled away at your chart. “On a scale from one to ten, how would you rate your pain?”
“A nine."
He lifted his head up then, his face tight and rigid. “Has anyone given you anything for the pain since you arrived?”
You shook your head. “No one has spoken to me since I was brought into the waiting area.”
The doctor clicked the end of his pen and scrawled some more words onto the page. He put the chart down on the desk and brought the chair closer to where you were sitting on the bed. You felt a lump forming in your throat and suddenly the room felt too small.
He sat there for a moment, just observing you before asking, “How long have you been living like this?”
“It’s been three years since my diagnosis. I should probably be used to it by now, but I’m not. Paracetamol will take the edge off on a good day.”
He nodded and you could see that he was listening, that some part of him understood even on a clinical level what you were telling him. “What was your diagnosis?”
“Endometriosis. By the time they discovered it, it had spread outside of my reproductive system. Luckily my organs hadn’t begun to fuse together yet.” You smiled at him but his lips remained in a firm line.
He let out an exasperated sigh and turned away from you. “I’m going to prescribe you a short course of opioids. It should be enough to last you until your next round of infusions. What drug are they administering?”
“Lignocaine. It’s done over the course of three days.”
He spun around again and handed you a script. “Take this to the pharmacy on your way out.”
“You’re not going to check my medical records to make sure I’m not lying?”
A faint wrinkle of a smile pulled at his lips, “I don’t need to. I believe you.”
read the full story on AO3 → https://archiveofourown.org/works/86206291/chapters/227993131
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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