Requested by callmeallysa 

(Son's Name) sits on a wooden bench, he's sitting in the room watching you read a book. His eyes move to the swell on your belly. 

"Mommy?" 

You ignore him. 

"Mommy?" 

You click your tongue in annoyance as you put your book down and give your son a sickly sweet smile. 

"What is it?" 

He blushes as he looks on the floor, twiddling with his feet.

"I-I made this for you," he whispers shyly as he hands you a piece of paper. A drawing of your family. 

If it could be called one. 

"It's very pretty," you praise as you ruffle your son's hair, "why don't you stick it up on your wall?" 

"I-I wanted to show it to you first, mommy!" 

"It's a lovely drawing. Go on, stick it up on your wall. So when he comes to tuck you in, he can see it." 

"O-okay, mommy!" 

"What did I need to see," Law asks as he enters the room. 

Your son grins widely as he jumps into his father's arms, "I-I made a drawing, daddy!" 

"I see," Law takes the piece of paper and observes it, smiling. "Your mother's right, it is beautiful." 

"Tha-thank you, daddy!" 

He grins as he puts your son down, "go on, stick it on your wall." 

Your son nods as he runs out of the room. 

"I told you, you'd grow to love him," Law whispers as he takes the book from your hand. 

"If he didn't look so much like you," you retort venomously, "I might have been able to love him."

"Might?"

"I will never love that monster you created."

"Oh, don't call him that."

"He is. He's Frankenstein and you're his creator."

"Don't talk about our son that way."

"I wanted to abort him, you know? But you would have done something." 

"Of course, I would never let anything happen to our dear family." 

He was right. Law smiles softly as he places a hand on your swollen belly. 

"I wonder if she'll inherit (Son's Name)'s artistic genius?" 

You gulp as you eye the bench your son saty on. Jars of red littered it- the blood Law had acquired and had given to him as 'paint'. You could never truly hate your son. You just wished he didn't inherit his father's madness. But it was futile. You realized how your wishes would never reach anyone. 

"I want to die," you admit to Law. 

"Oh, don't be so heartless, (Name)." 

You shrug, placing your hand in your chest. There's nothing beating there. 

Law had taken your heart from you the moment he had managed to get that Devil Fruit of his, kept you by his side, married you, and gave you that demonic child. 

You were certain that you were living in hell. 

And there was no escape. 

Because no matter how many times you had tried to kill yourself, he had always found a way to gewt you back. 

To drag you back to hell.