non-primum-non-nocere - Tumblr blog

[non-primum-non-nocere]

Send 💋 for a GIF how my muse would kiss yours

@penguin-and-orca​ asked: Send 💋 for a GIF how my muse would kiss yours

This works both for Penguin and Shachi.

[non-primum-non-nocere]

sicklesandscythes​:

His head tilted at the repeated question. 

        “I pictured you as a thinking man, but clearly I’m in the wrong, having merely assumed on merit and wit.”

Crossing his arms over his chest with his mask remaining fixed in Law’s direction, he heaved a heavy sigh. Disappointment settling on his shoulders. It was identical to discussing the hypocrisy of news or the culture of Marines to Kid. Information rather important yet brushed off as mere gossip. But to each their own form of entertainment.

        “You’re from the North Blue, right? What ailments of your government structure has caused enough of a ripple to effect those across the Red Line and Calm Belt?”

Compared to the Blues of other, the North was notorious for being the most cruel. Kingdoms harboring men most foul that would shake the very world to its core. Men who could easily ascertain power beyond fault yet remained under the heel of leaders. Tales of this ocean seldom seeped through but Killer knew enough, was aware enough of the fleeting power. It was all the same elsewhere, however specifics were unknown to him.

        “The world is changing rapidly and those who pay no mind to the shifting of powers will be the first to be left behind.”

He didn’t like how unperturbed the man seemed. 

They say 'third time the charm'.

Law didn't hear the sigh over Penguin's singing with one of the Kid pirates, but the rise and drop of Killer's chest was enough to make it known. For someone with no visible microexpressions available, Killer was easy to read.

His words matched what Law saw.

Now, the question was: should he ask 'because?' the third time, 'disappoint' Killer further and cause him to leave, or give him a finger?

"I am a thinking man." Law put his beer on the bar and looked to the side to pluck one of the wanted posters off the wall behind him. "And I think this intel has a higher price tag than 'to be freely given at a bar to potential rivals'." He studied the poster for a second: the face looked familiar, he must have seen it before, but without the name printed under the photo, he wouldn't have been able to give it off the top of his head.

"Is there anything else, you would like to discuss?" Law lifted his head to take in Killer's body language once more and folded the poster in half, aiming to make a simple paper plane by touch. Oh, how nice it would be to know whether the smooth movements of his inked hands were enough to draw in the enigmatic man's attention. To distract him even a little. "You would need to do more than join forces to defeat a common adversary to gain access to my treasure trove of intel, but some topics are free. Philosophy. Music. Tattoos." He waved his hand, looking for any sideways movement of Killer's helmet suggesting he followed the gesture. "If you'd rather gossip instead, we can always go with the theme of recent events and bitch on Celestial Dragons."

[non-primum-non-nocere]

post-mortem-lullabies​:

With all this closeness and touching, was his angle still to intimidate and unsettle her or had he sprinkled in some seduction? From what she had heard, Trafalgar was a charismatic bastard and flirting to get his way wasn’t beyond him.

It wouldn’t work on Emil either, but the question was: should she make him believe it worked?

She didn’t even try to pull her hand from his hold - his long fingers circling her thin wrist with ease and thumb squarely on her vein. She didn’t shy away and patiently let him investigate her face; her nose spot, judging by the way his thumb pressed.

“No,” she spoke just above a whisper; with his face this close to hers, there was hardly any need to speak louder. And - with him still holding her chin - easier. “If you wish to join for more, you’re more than welcome; I have no intention of even trying to stop you.” A smile danced at her lips as Emil leaned just a tad bit closer, her blind eyes focused on his.

What colour were they?

“All IID asks of you is that you let me enter your submarine, take me to the Marine Base we are investigating and just hang around there for some time while I - under a guise of your new crewmember - snoop around.” She shrugged. “They get tightlipped when anyone official visits; it’s a small chance, but we are hoping they might be not nearly as careful if a pirate visits them.” She gave a soft chuckle and leaned in further, raising on her toes but lowering her tone. “They might even try to sway you to their side. Now that would be interesting~”

Law didn't like it. Her pulse remained normal despite his attempts - it didn't even hitch for a moment. Not even when she leaned in and lowered her voice to a seemingly intimate whisper. She was a double agent in the end - an Internal Investigations Division, or at least so she claimed; in the vast sea of Marine incompetency, there ought to be at least one or two actually capable. Law could recognise it was logical, but the stubborn part of him didn't like it anyway.

Should he let her onboard Tang? Was it an actual mission or a ploy to get a Marine onboard his precious submarine to spy on her mechanics? Yes, Tang had been a Marine prototype, but - over the years - they had improved her inner workings and Marines not once had requested schematics since Law became a Warlord.

Should he allow her onboard? Did his interest in rogue Marines and how the IID dealt with them outweigh his caution?

"Shachi, are we ready to depart?"

Shachi stood up straighter. "Aye, Captain. We were only waiting for your return."

Law lifted his hand and opened his Room, only big enough to swallow the two of them and only long enough to scan her possessions. Without any ceremony, he reached into her jacket pocket, took out a Den Den and dropped it to the pier. "Take her to the mess and wait till I join you." Law moved her hand toward Shachi, turning her in the process. 

If - at any moment - he suspected her of spying on them, it would be easy enough to silence her forever. Perhaps he could torture some intel on Marines from her beforehand - with her being a spy, Law didn't expect anything fruitful, but at least it would be entertaining. 

"Aye, aye, Captain!" With a degree of amusement, Law watched Shachi reach out to grab her wrist, hesitate and take her hand instead. 

Law let them go in first as she stepped to Bepo first. "I want to talk with her with no other Marines getting in the way," he spoke quietly enough she shouldn't hear - not without an abnormal hearing. "Pick some quiet place underwater."

Bepo stood to the attention. "Aye, aye, Captain!"

They walked in, sealed the door and headed to the bridge.

[non-primum-non-nocere]

How Must You Be Loved…?

like the snow melts

you need to be loved patiently. you need to feel the love slowly creeping in, a warning, a way to back away if you’re too scared. you need to be loved cautiously, as if you’re fragile. you need to be loved gently, because love is messy and muddy and makes your socks wet and hurts if the sun gets too close. but you need to let yourself be loved, because when you do, it’ll feel like spring.

Tagged by @eyesofcuriosity​ (nearly 3 weeks ago but no one has any proof)

Tagging: @mediicusvitae​ @muselexum​ (Ace) @trafalgar-bleedingheart-law​ @post-mortem-lullabies​

[non-primum-non-nocere]

son-of-beast​:

Yamato stood there quietly watching. A bit awkward. This Law guy wasn’t much for conversation, was he? He inched closer, lowering himself to the ground. Unfortunately, there was no savior squirrel to divert his attention this time. Because yes, that would absolutely work on a dog-brained idiot like him-

He stopped, sitting near Law now. He’ll start with one topic and keep going for as long as he remained here. “You have interesting tattoos. Do they hold great meaning to you? I’ve considered tattoos for myself before….”

Many got their tattoos in a spur of a moment - without putting much thought into them - but Law spent months designing each. Each held a meaning; some under so many layers of symbolism and metaphor that Law didn't care to explain to his own crew, not to mention a stranger like Yamato.

"No," he grumbled a lie, not lifting his head - not looking up at the persistent 'dog'. "But if you copy them, I'll take it as placing my stamp on the body part and just take it to do as I please." Many of his crewmates got similar tattoos to Law's; the last thing he needed was for other people to think Yamato was a part of his crew.

[non-primum-non-nocere]

nephytale​:

The liquid barely touched her lips, a funny smile appeared on them before taking a sip. Did he think she could be so careless? Her index finger circled the rim of the glass before resting it on the table. A hand traveled to her head, brushing back the red locks that fell on her face.

“Why do you think I’d tell you? It’s nothing personal, but I’ve even kept it from my fellow crewmates for a long time.” Ryoko wasn’t going to lower her guard at his apparent kindness. She was still suspicious of his approach and was not going to let him get away with it, no matter what goal he had with her.

A brow rose at his comment. What did he expect with that? He wanted to gross her out? He wanted to analyze her reaction to it? Ryoko practically didn’t react. She has had human organs in her hands before and has even been the one who removed them from their bodies “So she was not the one… I mean… what better way to give a heart… than to give a heart in itself?” A slight amused tone had appeared in her voice

Law quirked his eyebrow at her, not commenting at first. Why? Just why did he have the questionable luck of stumbling upon people who made no sense? Staring at her with tired eyes, Law lifted his glass to his lips, paused took a sip. "Isn't it what conversation is supposed to work?" He placed the glass back on the bar with a click and looked away from her, letting his gaze wander over the other guests. His crewmates. Her crewmates. Some other pirates and civilians. Chatting and mingling.

"You touch on a topic, I acknowledge and give a befitting comment, then you elaborate." He was staring at a stuffed reindeer head over the fireplace, noting her only out of the corner of his eye for any possible attacks. "Why would you even go into a topic you were unwilling to talk about?" Law gave a dry snort. Had she hoped to get some embarrassing confessions from him? He wasn't drunk enough for that. He would sooner go into an alcohol-induced coma instead.

Should he? Why not? "One would think that a strategist would be logical."

[non-primum-non-nocere]

heavenlyborne​:

Why did he keep looking at the clock? What was he scribbling down in his book? Shalria didn’t dare take her eyes off Trafalgar Law for even a second - not so much out of fear as lesser, unimportant people would in this situation but in that whatever sick game this pirate was playing, she was determined not to let him get the best of her. He was far too calm for her liking, asking these questions and even as he smiled, she remained still even though she’d have liked nothing better in that moment than to slap it right off his face.

Tick… Tock… Tick… Tock…

And the sound of that damned clock wasn’t helping either, only adding to the surreal nature of her experience! Shalria felt no more comfortable about it than she was about how dark the room was. The only source of light avaliable made him appear like a devil delivered straight from hell, features cast in shadow as he scribbled away in his book. Next to the flicker of those golden eyes, the way he looked in that moment reminded her of some nightmarish beast studying new prey. She didn’t like it one little bit. Not him, not her situation, not the way he was writing or the sound of him jotting down unseen words as he wrote… whatever it was he had to be writing. It was maddening, both sounds raking the inside of her mind like claws across flesh as the heavy silence between the two of them seemed to stretch on into eternity.

“You should know. Aren’t you supposed to be a doctor?” Shalria replied snidely as he inquired further as to how she was feeling. What did he expect having caused her situation? The venom of her tongue had returned with renewed vigor now that her attention was fully on him again, ire rising once more as he dared call her mouth-frothingly rageful. Maybe he shouldn’t have provoked her if he didn’t like it. “You are wasting your time with this and more importantly, mine. I feel fine, now let me loose so I can get up and leave this room already. It stinks in here.” She growled, casting him a meaningful glare as she wriggled in her binds impatiently. The bridge of her nose crinkled as she took in the strange, unfamiliar scent of her dusty prison - what filth these humans loved crawling in, it would be clinging to her skin for weeks!

Law twirled his pen between fingers. A masterful motion - something he had practised countless times. Precise movements of his hands could pull someone back from the brink of death, just as well as they could topple someone over with the minimal effort required. He was the Surgeon of Death, and his Room was his domain, to steal and bestow death as he saw fit.

The domain that still encompassed both him and the former Celestial Dragon.

Was she aware of this? Did she still consider herself a big dog that could devour Law in one bite, or was she aware that, at that moment, she was no more than a pocket-sized dog yapping its head off at anything and everything that scared it? Weren't dogs her favourite pets?

Twirling his pen, Law watched her from under the visor of his hat. Ah, his reputation at work. Often, he only needed to simply be, and his opponent's imagination would spin wilder visions than what ha remotely cared to do.

"Exactly," Law gave the slighted nod, picked up the notebook, without the slightest hurry, flipped the page and settled it back on his lap. "I am a doctor, not a veterinarian. I ask because I can; because I don't have it in a habit to treat animals." As tempting as it was to smirk and grant her with smugness, Law's face remained impassive, his tone bored.

Weren't Celestial Dragons beings of such self-importance that they considered being hated something natural while being ignored-? Well, that was just blasphemous. Linking them to animals, when they themselves viewed humanity as beings only half a step above, was only a delicious bonus.

"I was going to release you, but I changed my mind," Law muttered, sliding lower on his couch as he scribbled little doodles to fill the silence with the faint scratching. "Two minutes. If you can shut up for consecutive two minutes, I will untie you and let you go." He glanced to the click and scribbled the time plus half a minute.

No one ordered Trafalgar Law.

[non-primum-non-nocere]

post-mortem-lullabies​:

Moving his pawn, Emil gave a soft chuckle at the nickname. If he intended to annoy or offend her, then he missed by a mile. Toad-ya? Really? Then again, he didn't know that one of her nicknames was Flea. Even if it wasn’t the case, toads were adorable, and Emil would gladly hold this name as her moniker.

“I am,” she admitted, dropping his accent but picking a different one instead. A sensual, a more melodic one. “I was wondering when you would notice, love.” She lifted her head and faced him when he was just about to touch her neck. For the first time, she directed her fully opened eyes toward his; would he miss them, looking at her gills instead?

“You can touch them, but if you push your fingers or anything else in them, I will shove my fingers up your nose.” She tilted her head a bit away, leaning into his hand and lifted her cup to her lips. Emil could always splash him with it should he get too rough for her comfort, but it would be a waste of tea that wasn’t hot enough to scald him anymore anyway. 

Emil reached out and moved her pawn, once again mirroring this Very-Probably-Almost-Certain-Trafalgar-Law’s move. “Do you always touch people without asking for their permission? On one side, I would say it’s rude, but then again-” she sipped her drink, eyes on him over the rim of her cup- “You’re a pirate known to be rude.” A frown quirked her brow. “Or was it just plain nasty?”

Keep reading

With his fingertips pressed against her skin above the upper gill, Law lightly ran his thumb over it. It reminded him of the underside of cooked mushroom cups: black, tightly packed plates that were soft and took a moment and her slight movement to straighten up. How would they behave in water? How did they connect to her respiratory system? He had met fishfolk before and seen their gills but they weren't universal and Law had never had a chance to study them at length.

And medical journals on non-human sentient races were limited and ridden with racism.

"I'm a surgeon, Toad-ya." Was it her natural accent or was she mimicking again? Either way, Law tilted his head and leaned in closer as he ran his thumb over her gill again, then pressed it against her skin under the lower one and gently stretched. There was some pink deep under the 'plates'. "My bedside manners are abysmal but otherwise I'm the best you'll ever meet." Law looked up to her eyes, a cocky smirk on his lips. "The only 'nasty' I practice in my field of work is cutting up unwilling people."

A frown knitted his eyebrows. "What?" Law let go of her shoulder and palmed the underside of her jaw. Shifting her head ever so slightly to the rising light, he stared at her eyes: pale grey irises and only a shade darker irises that didn't respond to the change of lighting in the slightest. Frowning deeper, he glanced to the chessboard then to her face again.

How? How could she move them with such ease and precision?

Was it haki? No. It only allowed one to see living creatures. Was she a devil fruit user? Perhaps. Possibly it gave her skill of echolocation - it would explain why there were holes along the board borders and why black pieces had a chunk cut out of their bases. And why she prattled so much.

Or it was something else entirely - Law shouldn't assume anything quite yet.

"You said you had an inkling who I am." Law let go of her jaw and tapped her cheek, under her left eye, both to signal he had finally noticed her blindness and to touch the yellow spot. Like her gills, he had taken it for a tattoo but perhaps it was part of her fishfolk traits. "What do they say to those who can't see my poster or my Jolly Roger?"

Her blindness had sparked his memory - he thumbed through the folder and opened it on the correct wanted poster, where her face smiled at him above a 'Lullaby of Death' epithet. 

"You’ve mentioned they say I'm rude." She couldn't have read his poster, nor - being wanted herself - ask Marines about him and hear their propaganda. Law was always curious about the general population's opinion on him; one could not shape and influence it if one didn't know its current form. "Anything else?" Should he? Why not. "Lullaby-ya?"

Board is the same because Law made no move:

[non-primum-non-nocere]

penguin-and-orca​:

@non-primum-non-nocere liked the [starter call]

With his lips pressed tight and eyes fixed on the coffee line in the mug, Shachi stepped into the mess dack. He glanced up only enough to make sure Captain hadn’t left his spot yet and slowly, one step at a time, made his way over. His knuckles whitened as he balanced the tray, making sure not a drop of coffee as black as the darkest abyss spilt from a mug filled to the very brim, nor a single grain of rice dared to fall from a pyramid of onigiris neatly stacked up on a plate that was way too small in hindsight.

Careful of every move and deaf to snickers of others in the mess deck, Shachi placed the tray on the table and ever so gently pushed it over towards Captain. That done, he took the opposite seat, tucked his hands under his tights and stared at Captain from behind his shades, failing at playing innocent.

Snickers pulled Law's attention from a newspaper. In between the tables, Shachi carried a tray with a pile of onigiris and a mug. One could think it was ordinary, but he looked more concentrated than an acrobat on a tightrope above a tank of hungry Sea Kings.

Law folded the newspaper away and, with his elbows on the table, entwined his fingers and rested his chin atop - waiting.

Unbothered by the others, Shachi put the tray on the table and pushed it over with utmost care.

Law took in a deep, slow breath as the coffee aroma raised to his nose, but he kept his gaze on Shachi. Without looking away, he reached for the mug, turned it around till the ear was towards him, then picked it up and not a drop spilt over the rim as he raised it to his lips. He took in a slow, deliberate sip that lasted just two seconds too long for anyone else's comfort but was 'just right' for Law.

He put the mug back on the tray and slid it closer to himself. "Alright-" he picked an onigiri from the top and took a bite. "what do you want?" It was either bribery or apology for something Law hasn't found out yet.

[non-primum-non-nocere]

eyesofcuriosity​:

Seeing how skillfully his  fingers  flipped the scalper she had a feeling he was not just an ordinary cutthroat. If he was she would already be dead or something worse. Instead he choose to let her live, meaning he had some other plan on mind. But what exactly? Her eyes kept observing the slick blade, not moving an inch in case he decides that he cant let her live. 

He was someone in a position of power, meaning maybe they could negotiate?

Somewhat relived hearing that he could use her help, she was making mental note to next time do a better scouting. Nessa had to give it to him, he was thoughtful by choosing to stand in front of the window as the moonlight still obscured his features. Still, she tried to have a look at him, his figure does look familiar as if she seen him somewhere before…..

However, soon she realized who he was, one of the most dangerous of the Worst Generatio, Trafaglar Law! For a moment her eyes did flinch a bit, but maybe she had a chance? Only if she played her cards correctly she heard stories about him, rather unsavory ones. 

“Ah…. “ she softly gasps while looking down on her uniform as well, was it really that obvious? Or perhaps he was far shaper than greedy nobleman who only saw her appealing features. “If I can be honest, I’m here on a mission… “ she tries to carefully choose her next words. 

“Mainly to find a certain something that can benefit everyone except the owner of this mansion “

Did she recognise him despite the darkness? Law would prefer that she had never put his face and name together, but it wouldn't be the first time he had to work in a less than perfect situation. He could spin this in his favour - he had developed his reputation for a reason.

"Miss Maid," Law spoke in a low, bassy whisper and cocked his head ever so slightly, "It's not that you can be honest; I strongly advise you to be so." He took half a step forward and flicked the scalpel toward her nose like an adult waving their forefinger at a child. "I don't take kindly to people who lie to me."

Law tilted the scalpel, so the blade reflected the sparse moonlight before pointing it to the globe-probably-minibar beside them. "I was about to try to open this. You wouldn't happen to know how it opens, would you?" For all he knew, it could be an ordinary globe with no secret compartments as well as a trap with an alarm that would trigger the moment one opens it without a passcode. Law smirked and took a step backwards. "Have a go at this, Miss Maid."

He watched her every move while contemplating her words. 'A mission', she had said. Sure, those could be self-assigned by vigilantes, but Law was more willing to put his money on her working for someone else. Someone benevolent or perchance malevolent but brainwashed this woman into thinking she did well. It could be anything: from a local gang, through the competing noble to the Revolutionary Army itself.

[non-primum-non-nocere]

Hello and welcome to my fresh as a spring grass RP blog for Penguin and Shachi from One Piece.

You can call me Ducky here and I would appreciate likes/reblogs to get those two goofs interacting with people.

[non-primum-non-nocere]

I was discussing with @mediicusvitae whether or not Law would join Doflamingo if Lamy survived and was with Law, and now I’m very tempted to develop a verse where he doesn’t join them but accidentally obtains Hobby-Hobby devil fruit.

Imagine adult Lamy somewhere down the line, when Law eventually cures them, constantly being mistaken for Law’s older sister (and then getting depressed when someone thinks she’s his mother).

[non-primum-non-nocere]

nonverbal  meme  prompts

@clione-of-heart​ asked: [ wow ] receiver does something to really amaze sender (has been reversed) //.... had to.

Law frowned and rubbed the side of his nose. It helped, and he flipped a page, focusing back on the manuscript. His eyebrows knitted tightly as the itch returned. He sat up straight but tilted his head to the side, staring overheads the couple crew members in the mess deck onto the wall covered with wanted posters; the last thing he needed was to sneeze all over the weathered pages. The sneeze never came, but the itch subsided.

Law huffed and picked his pencil to copy a sketch. He glared at the dull tip and picked a sharpener. Another wave of the itch all the way in his sinuses drew a muttered curse out of him. Law slammed the pencil and sharpener onto the table and threw his head back to stare wide eyes straight at the lamp.

"Acho! Acho! ACHO!"

Taking in a deep breath, Law grimaced at his wet sleeve - she had sneezed into his elbow. Someone chuckled, someone offered a 'bless you'. Law waved dismissively and picked his pencil once more, examining it again.

He blinked as his sight trailed up and further: to Clione. He stood with a tray in both hands and a definition of total amazement on his features, looking straight at Law.

Law lowered his head, covering his face with the rim of the hat and got to sharpening the pencil. A sneeze? What would be next? Would Clione be amazed next time Law burps too!?

[non-primum-non-nocere]

Crewmate - Fugu

And one more crewmate to the collection - Fugu.

He’s one of the earliest crewmates - while food the original four could prepare was edible, Law was well aware that good food is essential for morale and a cook was near the top of his priority list.

Kudos to Lisa for picking an unnamed Heart Pirate that looked like ‘Fugu’.

[non-primum-non-nocere]

Crewmate - Okoze

I’ve just added a new crewmate to the crew page - Okoze.

I needed a crewmate with a penchant for chemistry and explosives. While I tried to decide on the way Law had saved his life @mediicusvitae​ threw this gif at me and thus Okoze, an exflorist and current torpedoes specialist was born:

[non-primum-non-nocere]

clione-of-heart​:

@non-primum-non-nocere asked:

[ wake ] sender tries to wake receiver // possible twist if you want: Law isn’t trying to wake Clione up but carry him to his bed because Clione fell asleep in the kitchen

nonverbal  meme  prompts

A steaming pot of boiling water sat on the fireless stove, as Clione kept throwing spinach into it, and the spinach jumped off the pot back into Clione’s hands in order for him to bathe them in ice and complete the blanching process, before starting it all over again. He had the distinct impression that the way things were happening was a bit weird, and that he usually didn’t do it quite like that, but at the same time it also seemed the most natural thing to do. He was blanching spinach. There wasn’t much to wonder about. It was a process with very clear steps. 

Steps. 

For some reason, Clione seemed to hear a step-like sound around him, closer than was logically possible. He was a little confused about this, but maybe it wasn’t too important a thing. He had to keep blanching…

What was he even blanching the spinach for? What was he making?

He couldn’t recall. 

At that moment, he felt his body being slightly jostled, as if something (or someone) had adjusted their grip on him. His eyes fluttered open, wakefulness coming to him slowly.

He was warm. And comfortable. And his eyelids felt heavy enough that he was severely tempted to just close them again and go back to senselessly blanching spinach over and over again…

Then he realized exactly in whose arms he’d been sleeping. Suddenly he was wide awake, scrambling as mortifying embarrassment filled his veins with adrenaline and his cheeks with color. 

He really hoped he hadn’t been drooling. Or mumbling. 

“C-Captain?” he called, in dazed frenzy. Why was he carrying him? Clione vaguely remembered falling asleep on the kitchen floor while he was waiting for a batch of crème caramel to cool off… “What are you doing?”

Which time was it already?

Law carried asleep Clione down the otherwise empty corridor, the taps of his unhurried footsteps carrying over Tang's quiet hum. 

Clione wasn't trying to mimic him, was he? Law had fallen asleep with his face in work on more than one occasion, yes, but Law had general issues with sleeping. It was better for him to do some research and hopefully doze off than to toss and turn in the bed, unable to find the Dream till the breakfast buzzer sounded off and he dragged his body off the bed, more tired than when he entered it.

Law shifted Clione in his arms - making sure his head didn't lol backwards - opened the door to another section of the corridor and carried on... Only to be rudely interrupted by Clione waking up.

Law paused his step and kept on catching Clione while he tried to scramble out of the princess carry. He tried to keep an impassive face but an amused smirk pulled at his lips anyway when Clione cried out. He had intended to get him to the bed without anyone noticing but this was better.

"What?" Law jolted his arms, locking Clione's shoulders and knees against his chest. He leaned in, nearing their faces to find Clione's eyes with his calm if a bit entertained gaze. Like a cat about to toy with a mouse. "I was going to put my asleep crewmate to their bed but now that they are awake, I wonder if perhaps I should do that and then sing them a lullaby so they go back to sleep." He started walking again, but still held Clione close. "Or maybe I should get a couple of other crewmates to join me in the singing?"

[non-primum-non-nocere]

Headcanon - Dyslexia and Textbooks

So, my Shachi has mild dyslexia. He dislikes reading books because those are a struggle but adores comic books since those have less text and the font is often big and in capital letters.

My Penguin, on the other hand, learns by reading and writing and is amazing in administrative works.

So here's a sweet little headcanon for back when they were children:

Law forced basic medical education on each Heart Pirate, and he gave medical journals to Penguin and Shachi to later question them about the content. Penguin was doing great but Shachi was struggling, often ditching the books to do anything else.

There were some fighting and threats but eventually, Law noticed Shachi did better with subjects that had a lot of pictures. Sitting over it, they learn he has an easier time memorising things written in big, uniform font with wide spaces between lines. They sat together, discussed it, and Penguin rewrote for Shachi all medical books in big, clean font with only capital letters while Law copied (and improved) illustrations.

They still have those books, and it became an ongoing project shared among the entire crew, where they recreate old and ruined pages or edit chapters with new data.