#𝓲𝓲𝓲. ⟢ Queue. › … 𝑴𝒐𝒓𝒔 𝒗𝒊𝒏𝒄𝒊𝒕 𝒐𝒎𝒏𝒊𝒂. .

[rubctosis]

.ᐟ.ᐟ   ⸺     # 𝐑𝐔𝐁𝐂𝐓𝐎𝐒𝐈𝐒     a  private  independent  semi-selective  /      canon  divergent  &  headcanon  based  𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐅𝐀𝐋𝐆𝐀𝐑    𝐃.    𝐖𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐑    𝐋𝐀𝐖   from  Eiichiro  Oda's  𝙊𝙉𝙀    𝙋𝙄𝙀𝘾𝙀.    interaction  focused  &&  highly  selective,  rarely  follows  first,  mutuals  only.  oc,  multi  and  crossover  friendly.  personal  blogs  and  minors  dni.  Blog will  contain  dark  themes,  slight   mentions  of  gore  and  nsfw.    low activity.       est.   Oct 31.   2023 Loved  by    ℛℯ𝓃   (    he/him , 25+    ). ©noxcave

                                     ♡  or ↻ if interested in interacting!

[rubctosis]

         STARTER  CALL  !       :           -  new  starter  call.           ›      will  be  making  this  a  permanent  post           -          please      ♡       this      if      you'd      like      a      simple      oneliner          starter.        .         Multimuse       blogs       feel       free       to       specify       muse        !    please    check       out       my        pinned       post       for       any       additional       info  !  ©

[rubctosis]

OPEN.IND.SEMI-SEL.         headcanon   based    𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐅𝐀𝐋𝐆𝐀𝐑    𝐃.    𝐖𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐑    𝐋𝐀𝐖 ♡   from    Eiichiro    Oda's    𝙊𝙉𝙀    𝙋𝙄𝙀𝘾𝙀.    canon   divergent.   Spoiler free. OC's       welcomed        ,        duplicates       , multimuse        /        multiverse        &        crossover        friendly.        est.        Oct 31.        2023.  minors    /    personals    do    not   interact.    Loved    by    ℛℯ𝓃    (    he/him , 25+    ).    Blog    will    contain    dark    themes,    slight       mentions    of    gore    and    nsfw.          please         read         pinned         for         additional         info.  ©paletterph

                                     ♡  or ↻ if interested in interacting!

[rubctosis]

Alright give Neela a smooch at least before you take her heart (maybe literally)

voidcenturyseashanties  sent: she wants a kiss // First Five Asks Get A Kiss - accepting 3/5

𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄  𝐖𝐀𝐒  𝐀𝐍  𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐒𝐄  𝐒𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄  𝐀𝐒  𝐓𝐇𝐄  𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐆𝐄𝐎𝐍  𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐎𝐃   across  from  Neela,  the  weight  of  the  conversation  pressing  against  him  like  a  heavy  fog.  The  room  was  quiet,  save  for  the  soft  hum  of  the  ship’s  engine  and  the  occasional  creak  of  wood  as  it  swayed  in  the  ocean’s  embrace.  He  had  been  noticing  the  pattern  for  days  now—the  small  gestures,  the  moments  where  Neela’s  gaze  would  flicker  away  just  as  he  met  it,  the  way  she  hesitated  before  speaking,  her  lips  barely  parting  to  form  the  words.  Something  was  off,  but  Law  couldn't  place  his  finger  on  it—until  now..

❝Neela-ya  .  .  .  ?   ❞  he  started,  his  voice  low  but  steady.  He  could  feel  the  nerves  in  his  chest  tighten,  even  though  he  was  usually  so  confident  in  situations  like  this.  He  wasn’t  sure  if  she  had  been  expecting  him  to  notice  or  if  she  had  been  hoping  he  wouldn’t.  Either  way,  he  had  to  address  it—because  Law  wasn’t  the  type  to  leave  things  unspoken  when  it  came  to  people  he  cared  about,  no  matter  how  uncomfortable  it  made  him  feel.   Law  shifted  his  weight,  a  subtle  sign  of  his  uncertainty  creeping  into  his  posture,  something  he  rarely  showed.  He  wasn’t  accustomed  to  navigating  emotional  waters.  His  world  had  always  been  one  of  cold  logic,  of  medicine. 

He  stepped  closer  to  her,  sensing  the  hesitance  in  her  posture,  the  way  her  shoulders  tensed  as  if  she  were  bracing  herself  for  something.  Law  had  never  been  one  to  offer  comfort  easily—he  had  his  own  walls,  his  own  scars.  But  this...  this  felt  different.  This  was  Neela,  someone  who  had  come  to  matter  to  him  in  ways  he  wasn’t  sure  how  to  process.  His  gaze  softened,  his  usually  stoic  expression  cracking  just  a  little  in  his  effort  to  make  her  feel  seen,  to  let  her  know  she  wasn’t  alone  in  her  struggles.

His  hand  reached  out,  uncertain  but  gentle,  brushing  the  back  of  his  fingers  against  her  cheek.  The  touch  lingered  for  a  moment,  like  a  silent  question.   he  leaned  in  and  pressed  a  soft  kiss  to  her  cheek—a  small,  tender  gesture,  but  one  that  spoke  volumes.  It  was  as  though  he  was  offering  a  safe  space,  a  reassurance  that  it  was  okay  to  let  go  of  whatever  it  was  she  was  holding  back.

For  a  fleeting  moment,  Law  found  himself  unsure—unsure  if  it  was  the  right  thing  to  do,  unsure  if  she  would  understand  the  meaning  behind  it,  unsure  if  it  would  make  her  feel  more  vulnerable.  But  as  he  pulled  away,  he  saw  something  in  her  eyes  that  reassured  him—something  soft,  something  fragile,  but  something  that  made  it  all  feel  worth  it.

[rubctosis]

The space made uncomfortable by rapid, heated breaths -- trailed from a single person, though the gasps were a pair. Frankly: hadn't he better things to do with his time? Any other, the same price as the coins clinking about in his pouch, arguably with less hassle, less... mouth. Law, for all his unknowables, was a man weighed heavily with obligation. Boothill knew, 'cause he bared the same mountain; recognized it in misguided snaps and harsh corrections.

So, whenever offered the chance for relief, any sane man would take it. Nevertheless, Boothill wasn't expecting a yes, and Boothill hadn't necessarily realized what he had proposed until it departed his cracked lips. Surely, something he would have tossed on the table after drinking his years away, but sobriety was his catalyst tonight; however still, the night would've fared better with some age-old whiskey lubricating his thoughts.

"Not too late to back out," spoken against the thrum of his pulse, teeth a hair from sinking in - best to wait 'till Law spouted something snarky, something to earn the dagger waiting to plunge. "'Case you think yer too good 'fer me. I can promise ya,"

Mouth navigating upward, Boothill nipped at a piercing, tugged it between his teeth.

"I can give ya' better than what ya' can find on the street. Gives off heat 'n everything, grip tighter than a cobra."

ofhope asked: unprompted // always accepting !

 𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐏 𝐆𝐎𝐋𝐃𝐄𝐍 𝐇𝐔𝐄𝐒  dark and narrowed, flickered from the gunslinger's row of sharp teeth to the man’s smug expression. He didn’t respond right away—he rarely did when offered something so .... His posture remained stiff, professional, but the air around him seemed to drop in temperature, an edge of irritation sharpening his features. The words, though tempting in their promise of pleasure, made the surgeon's brow knit, the faintest twitch of his lips betraying a brewing annoyance. The dim light in the room caught the glint of his piercings as Boothill toyed with one, teeth scraping against steel. Law’s pulse was steady—calm, despite the heated press of the cyborg's breath and the tension drawn taut between them. He let the other man's words hang in the air like the smoke of a smoldering fire, acrid and cloying. For a moment, it was unclear whether he’d answer at all.

Then came the snark.

❝ Are you trying to sell yourself to me or convince yourself I’m worth the effort? ❞  Law’s voice was low, edged with frost, a sharp contrast to the palpable heat he exuded. The piercing Boothill had tugged on caught Law’s attention again, the glint of metal making his lip twitch—a slight reminder of how far this conversation had gone already. He could walk away. He could easily walk away. But instead, he stepped a fraction closer, his fingers brushing over the edge of the piercing, not to tug it, but to press it just slightly harder against Boothill’s lips. His golden-flecked eyes, framed by the uneven shadow of his lashes, gleamed faintly, pupils narrow pinpricks. A lazy smirk, almost mocking, curled his lips, the slightest flash of teeth. 

the cyborg wasn't exactly a man of patience, and neither was the surgeon, apparently, given the sudden clash of their mouths. Boothill wasn't the first to initiate contact, but law was the one to deepen it; the only way to shut the smug bastard up. it Felt more like an attack than a kiss, canines biting onto the flesh of his lip. 

❝ Don't get fucking cocky . . .❞  there's a certain grace one wields when it comes to this particular kind of dominance. a power that needs no brute force. law wields it just as well as any scalpel. they're good at it. they aren't the only deciding factor, however. law isn't particularly good at emotions, or rather allowing themselves to process them. always one to compartmentalize. so this... this openness, the words rolling from their tongue — this bubble of time the two of them are sharing are just as beneficial for law as it is for the cowboy to be wanted, needed. Law pressed their mouths together, The kiss was rough, his mouth opening to nip and bite at the gunslinger's lower lip, tongue flicking out to taste metal and whiskey. A single step. An answer. A yes.

[rubctosis]

 law  pegs  him  the  very  second  he  steps  foot  into  the  establishment  —  after  all,  he’s  a  hard  man  to  miss  with his identifiable mop of green & his collection of acquired blades. even  without  the  rather stentorian crew he's a part of  &  that  he so happens to separate with his off sense of direction .

 with  a  breath,  law  disregards  the  cup of  coffee &  leans  back  ;  letting  one  arm  rest  against  the  chair’s  spine  while  the  other  absently  toys  with  the  binding  on  kikoku’s  hilt.  ❝ don't suppose you came in here intentionally. something  i  can  do  for  you,  zoro-ya?  ❞  

@kaizokugaris ♡ for a starter!

[rubctosis]

   what  ? . . . What is this?   it takes him a second to even begin to process such a piece . his initial  shock was palpable. His usually composed demeanor faltered as he processed the information.it leaves him, sat beneath her imposing figure with his mouth open. a slight part to his lips as the air departs his lungs , sharp  eyes narrowed slightly, disbelief igniting in their golden depths.  His usually composed demeanor faltered for a fraction of a second ❝ I OWE YOU HOW MUCH?  ❞ no, that's not even the issue at hand here. he’s gotten caught up in their pace again. law has to take a moment to recollect himself. he doesn’t move, apart from leaning back against the sunny’s mast in order to better shield his eyes from the blighting sun, running a hand through his unruly dark hair. His mind raced, trying to process this revelation. The meticulous navigator had been tallying his supposed debt, and he had been completely oblivious.

 ❝Nami-ya . .   ❞ he starts again, calmer now as he stares up at her. ❝how did i manage to be listed and have debt owed ?? what could i have possibly done  to even be taxed?  ❞

@cathiief ♡ for a starter!

[rubctosis]

 this  wasn’t  the  first  time  he  noticed  it. he’d picked  up  on  it  back  on  punk  hazard;  when sanji had lit a cigarette while  unwittingly  standing  within  the  far  edge  of  his  operating  room.  it  had  been  nothing  more  than  a  fleeting  information  dump  of  muscles,  sinuses  &  emotions  that  had  culled  itself  the  second  the cook stepped  out  of  his  influence  and   all  he  was  able  to  read  was  an  oddity  in  the  man’s  lumbrical  muscles.  at  the  time,  law  had  paid  it  no  mind  —  he  had  no  connection  to  these  people  and to be brutually honest  ,  he  hadn’t  cared.   now,  as  he  sits  here  ;  attention  more  so  on  the  man  serving  them  than  that  of  the  food  itself,  he  finds  himself  observing.  tracking  the  fluidity  of the cook's   body.  it  was  minute;  practically  unnoticeable  to  the  untrained  eye  &  truth  be  told,  law  presumes  that  the  symptoms  could  easily  pass  as  something  as  simple  as  nicotine  withdrawals.  which  fell  in  line  with  sanji’s  habits  well  enough  but  —   the  second  cup  of  coffee  is  accepted,  though  left  largely  untouched.  merrily  simmering  away  just  aft  of  his  elbow  as  he  finds  himself  giving  in  —  taking  that  beforgotten  hand  into  both  of  his.  it’s  a  lapse  of  judgment.  perhaps  he’s  truly  gotten  comfortable  on  this  ship  with  these  people.  to  allow  himself  the  indulgence  he’d  typically  only  have  with  his  own  crew. he’s  careful  in  his  touch,  keeping  sanji's  appendage  steady  as  he  traces  through  the  man’s  palm.  kneading  in  with  intent  only  to  lessen  the  pressure and   smooth  it  out  across  the  cusp  of  interossei  muscles.  

 ❝ it seems your  opponens  pollicis  and  adductor  pollicis  are  hypertensive.  it’s  nothing  serious,  some  light  massaging  should  relieve  the  tension  in  the  muscles, though  i  would  advise easing your time cooking for at least a day and dedicate  to have some leisurely rest.   recommend   it  be done  sooner  rather  than  later  less  the  issue  persists  ❞   he  leans  back  in  his  chair.   he  won't  apologize  for  the  intrusion  of  personal  space,  it  wasn’t  in  his  nature. 

@lovehungered ♡ for a starter!

[rubctosis]

In lieu of gaining a kiss, Law would instead be the benefactor. Haste had played a dire role in their entanglement; headfirst proposals and little thought spent. Thus while they equally cradled a bottle of aged whiskey, Boothill would lean a touch close, would let their fingers - steel, flesh - meet on one too many occasions. Upon one particularly harsh gulp, one likely meant to drive away his mind, to force silence into a loud mind, Boothill would put aside the sips-left bottle to instead encircle Law's chin, chilly fingertips keeping him firmly in-place.

"Don't think nothin' of this."

Before Law can voice any which thing, their lips met in a gentle glide. Separated by a mere breath, the outlaw pressed into him, tilted his head to capture the best angle, guided their lips together in a more decisive clash. No teeth, no tongue, simply a... "welcome back," an embrace after a morning, noon spent out.

Departing, Boothill kept his hold, kept his thumb on the prominent piercing on his lip.

"You watch yourself, okay?"

ofhope  sent: kiss the doctor // always accepting ♡

    𝐓𝐇𝐄  𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐒𝐊𝐄𝐘  𝐁𝐔𝐑𝐍𝐄𝐃,  𝐁𝐔𝐓  𝐈𝐓  𝐖𝐀𝐒  𝐀  𝐁𝐔𝐑𝐍  𝐋𝐀𝐖  𝐖𝐄𝐋𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐃. The  heat  rolling  down  his  throat  was  a  distraction,  a  temporary  solace  from  the  weight  of  a  thousand  spinning  thoughts.   though  typically  reserved,  the  surgeon  had  found  himself  spending  more  and  more  time  in  the  company  of  the   outlaw  .  Their  paths  had  collided  under  circumstances  born  of  necessity  —   overlapping  routes  and  a  mutual  understanding  that  neither  cared  to  overanalyze.  What  began  as  a  calculated  ❛   partnership   ❜  had  grown  into  something  far  more  .  .  .   intricate  as  they  traversed  back  roads,  ghost  towns,  and  endless  stretches  of  barren  desert  and  the  endless  span  of  the  seas.  The  dim  light  of  the  room  played  tricks  on  the  amber  liquid  in  the  bottle,  and  he  stared  into  it  like  it  held  the  answers  to  questions  he  wouldn’t  dare  ask  aloud.  Boothill’s  proximity  was  something  he  was  only  half-aware  of  —  a  subtle  hum  at  the  edge  of  his  thoughts,  like  a  storm  on  the  horizon.

   ㅤㅤㅤ   ㅤㅤ—ㅤUntil  it  wasn’t.

The  first  brush  of  their  fingers  was  nothing;  fleeting,  ignorable.  The  second  lingered  too  long.  .  .   the  third  spoke  volumes  &&   Law  wasn’t  sure  he  wanted  to  hear.  His  sharp  eyes  flicked  to  the  outlaw,  the  glint  in  Boothill’s  gaze  unsettlingly  sure.  Law  didn’t  look  away,  but  he  didn’t  speak  either.  What  could  he  say?  That  the  closeness  felt  foreign  but  not  unwelcome?  That  he  couldn’t  decide  if  the  flicker  of  warmth  in  his  chest  was  curiosity,  irritation,  or  something  else  ?

The  bottle  was  gone  before  he  could  process  its  absence,  metallic  fingers  tilting  his  chin  upward.  The  coolness  of  their  touch  contrasted  sharply  with  the  heat  that  slowly  rose  to  Law’s  face,  the  sudden  tension  pulling  at  every  muscle.  He  narrowed  his  eyes,  lips  parting  to  voice  the  protest  forming  on  his  tongue,  but  the  words  never  had  a  chance.  The  kiss  was  softer  than  it  had  any  right  to  be,  a  gentle,  deliberate  glide  that  contradicted  everything  Law  expected.  His  first  instinct  was  to  pull  back,  to  sever  the  contact  and  reassert  the  boundaries  he  usually  kept  locked  tight.  But  the  taller  man  didn’t  give  him  a  chance  to  think,  their  grip  firm,  their  presence  inescapable.  The  second  press  of  their  lips  was  more  assertive,  a  question  with  an  answer  Boothill  seemed  to  already  know.

   ㅤㅤㅤ   ㅤㅤ—ㅤAnd  then  it  was  over.

 the  surgeon's  breath  came  shallow,  his  lips  tingling  from  the  contact.  the  other's  metallic  thumb  rested  on  his  lip  piercing,  the  faint  pressure  grounding  him  when  his  mind  felt  anything  but.  his  words  —  simple,  unadorned  —  cut  through  the  haze.

   ㅤㅤㅤ   ㅤㅤ—ㅤYou  watch  yourself,  okay?"

A  sharp  exhale  escaped  him,  halfway  between  a  sigh  and  a  scoff.  His  gaze  burned  with  a  mixture  of  confusion  and  indignation  as  he  leaned  back,  putting  just  enough  distance  between  them  to  reclaim  some  semblance  of  control.  ㅤㅤ❝  I  don’t  need  your  concern   .  ❞   ㅤㅤㅤ  he  said,  his  voice  low  and  even,  though  the  slight  tremor  betrayed  him.  His  thumb  brushed  absently  over  the  cold  metal  of  the  metal  limb..  ㅤㅤ❝  Or...whatever  that  was.  .  ❞   ㅤㅤㅤ   

But  he  didn’t  let  go.  Not  yet.  Instead,  he  stared  into  the  outlaw’s  eyes,  searching  for  something   —   an  explanation,  a  reason,  anything  to  justify  the  uninvited  tenderness  that  had  momentarily  unraveled  him.  Law’s  lips  parted  again,  this  time  with  more  conviction,  but  the  words  he  wanted  refused  to  come.  Finally,  with  a  reluctant  sigh,  inked  fingers  interlaced  themselves  with  the  outlaw's.  the  tension  in  his  shoulders  slowly  ebbing. 

  ㅤㅤ❝  You’re  insufferable     .  ❞   ㅤㅤㅤ  he  muttered,  though  the  insult  lacked  its  usual  venom.  His  gaze  was  drawn  to  the  outlaw's  hand,  and  his  brow  furrowed  as  his  eyes  traced  the  metal.  It  had  always  fascinated  him,  the  intricate  design  and  the  craftsmanship  behind  the  metal  limb.  But  now,  it  was  something  more.  It  was  an  extension  of  the  man,  a  part  of  them  he  couldn’t  ignore,  and  it  drew  his  gaze  more  than  ever.  his  curiosity.  .   fingers  tightened,  and  he  tilted  his  head  up  to  meet  the  taller  man's  gaze  once  more.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ  ㅤㅤ  ㅤ  ㅤ  ㅤ  ㅤ  ㅤㅤ  ㅤ  ㅤ  ㅤ  ㅤ  ㅤHe  closed  the  space  between  them  once  more,  the  kiss  just  as  chaste  and  careful  as  the  last,  but  this  time  there  was  no  hesitation.  No  doubt.  His  hand  slipped  free,  and  he  buried  his  fingers  in  the  fibers  of  the  long  locks  of  the  other's  hair  —  palm  against  the  back  of  his  head,  pulling  the  other  closer,  the  kiss  growing  deeper,  more  intense.

It  was  a  moment  of  vulnerability  Law  allowed  no  one  else  to  see,  a  glimpse  into  the  man  beneath  the  cold,  calculated  mask  he  so  carefully  maintained.

[rubctosis]

   Gold  irises  -   sharp  and  analytical,  scanned  the  surroundings  with  an  air  of  reserved  detachment.  His  lips  formed  a  thin  line,  betraying  none  of  the  thoughts  swirling  within  his  mind  yet  Law's  expression  remained  stoic  as  he  refuse  to  show  an  ounce  of  emotion.   he  quirked  a  single  eyebrow  in  a  gesture  that  spoke  volumes,  silently  questioning  her  presence.  the  hilt  of  his  Kikoku  pressed  against  his  side  ,  fingers  tightening  around  the  familiar  grip  of  the  sheathed  blade.  

         ❝  need  something  .  .  ?     ❞

 @mundmutter    ,       sc  !  ♡

[rubctosis]

She wants a kiss

devilofthecresentisle  sent: she wants a kiss // First Five Asks Get A Kiss - accepting 2/5

it’s  deliberate  ;  the  way  in  which  he  seeks  her  out.  side  stepping  everyone  he  passed    —   a  sigh  breaks  the  silence  as  he  finds  himself  within  her  company.  seating  himself  against  the  floorboards   ;  seated beside and left her  to  whatever  task  she’d  been  busing  herself  with.  content  to  soak  in  the  sun  in  a  fleeting  moment  of  peace. and in the moment he kept a glance at the woman, His focus seemed lost, his usually sharp expression clouded in thought. The silence between him and the other person was comfortable, but there was something —an unspoken tension that neither had addressed.

Without warning, he turned. His piercing golden hues locked onto her across the room, an unreadable look passing between them. They barely had time to register the shift before he was in front of them, his hand curling around the back of their neck, pulling them closer.

The kiss was sudden brief, just a flash of warmth before it was gone, just as quickly as it had come. And then, just as abruptly, he pulled away, his gaze meeting theirs with a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes. Without a word, Law turned on his heel, his coat fluttering with the motion as he walked away. His footfalls echoed faintly in the room, leaving a charged silence in his wake, as if he had never been there at all. He left no explanation, no hint of why he had done it—

[rubctosis]

  𝐋𝐚𝐰’𝐬  𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐮𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧  𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤  𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨  𝐭𝐡𝐞  𝐟𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐲  𝐡𝐚𝐝𝐧’𝐭  𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧  𝐚  𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐞𝐭  𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠.  it  left  a   bitter  imprint  on  the  familial  tapestry  that  woven  his  life.  It  wasn't  a  mere   event;  it  was  a  haunting  memory  etched  into  the  very  core  of  his  being.  The   recollection  of  that  fateful  day,  when  Corazon  was  mercilessly  shot   multiple   times,  played  out  like  a  haunting  melody  in  the  recesses  of  his  mind.  The   small  fragments  of  his  memories  flashed  vividly,  portraying  the  macabre   scene  of  blood  spilling  onto  the  pristine  snow  that  adorned  the  ground.   The   question  lingered,  heavy  as  the  lead,  within  him   –   was   Corazon   dead   or   alive?  Had  he  truly  emerged  unscathed  from  the  ordeal? .   .   .   Law's  heart   ached  at  the  contemplation,  revisiting  the  desperate  moments  when  he   himself  sought  escape.  His  futile  kicks,  bites,  and  struggles  were  easily   extinguished   -   his  efforts  were  for  naught   –   snuffed   out   easily  by  the   ruthless  duo  of  Diamante  and  Trebol,  met  with  a  torrent  of  hits  and  jeers   that  marked  his  failed  rebellion  and  he  was  punished  severely  for  it.  The   mere  thought  clawed  at  Law's   heart,  a  relentless  ache  that  threatened  to   consume  him  whole.   As   if   he    𝐇𝐀𝐃   𝐀   𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄    before.   

once perhaps, there had been a semblance of purpose, a flicker of determination thay had driven him for  But   now,  all  that  remained  was  a   smoldering  ember  of  rage,  a  primal  fire  that  burned  with  an  intensity  ,  but   that  flagged  soon  enough.  he  was  beaten  bloody  ,  black  and  blue.  blood  and   abrasions  covering  his  skin.  they  truly  held  no  remorse  towards  the  boy  at   the  time.    he  was  hauled  to  his  feet  and  shoved  at  the  King.  His  knees  gave   way  and  he  slumped  to  the  floor,  head  bowed  low.  A   heavy  hand  landed  on   the  back  of  his  neck,  squeezed  and  made  his  teeth  grit  together.  When  the   bastard  spoke,  his  tone  was  light,  airy  even,  but  it  held  an  undertone  that   had  Law  tensing.  it   angered  him  to  no  end.   he  was  tugged  upwards   ;   forced  to  face  the  blond  who  looked  down  at  him  with  the  same  damned  smirk.

@heavens-sin ♡ for a starter!

[rubctosis]

 within his ribcage came the quickened palpitation of his heart, a rhythm that echoed the memories of his past. The ghost of crimson stained  smile tugged at his lips, but it was filled with bitterness. The memory of  Corazón .. his savior  ─── and the man who had given his life to save him .. The man he had watched die. it was a wound that had never truly healed. a wound that ached and filled him with a horrendous wave of guilt. a memory that was forever etched into his memory.  now, law’s no stranger to the ghosts of his past. grown ever used to the weight of their proverbial shadows lingering over him. playing a heavy hand in almost every decision he’s taken, and action he’s righted along his path from then to now. but this

  ─── the very visage of this man ─── is something else entirely. it’s as though someone’s taken the remnants of his past ;  of the one good thing he had in an otherwise sea of turmoil and anger of his youth, and slapped him point-blank in the face with it.   the dead can’t be resuscitated. fact. there was no second coming of somebody long gone from this hideous world. so this? it’s a cruel joke,  and law’s not having any of it. 

he can feel his teeth grit in the surmounting anger ─── the absurd audacity of this… imposter. ❝ as if I'd believe something so absurd..you think by any shadow of a doubt that i would believe the nonsense you're spilling about ? ❞ his grip around the hilt  of kikoku tightened , inked  knuckles turning white. Law's mind raced with a thousand thoughts, each one more violent than the last.  ❝you think you can waltz in here and CLAIM you're HIM?  . . HE'S DEAD !!  . HE DIED YEARS AGO.   ❞ each syllable heavy with hostility as he lashed out.  ❝You're an absolute fucking idiot to think id fall for it!  ❞

@code01746 ♡ for a starter!