Also, For Reference To Be Used In Said Longform Thing I'm Writing, I Am Doing... Math.

also, for reference to be used in said longform thing i'm writing, i am doing... math.

by the end of rosinante & law's six month trip, he has ~15 maps with an average of what looks like 4-6 hospitals marked off on each.

so, over six months (~182 days), rosinante took law to at least 60-90 hospitals, which is roughly a new hospital every 2-3 days.

　　　　　　❝ i wouldn’t be here if i didn’t finish. ❞

　if minion island had only been rosinante’s entrance into hell, then where he existed currently was in its deepest trench.

the ninth circle: betrayal. the lowest sin. the blackest sin, furthest from the light of heaven. reserved for those who betrayed their family, their country, and their god.

as far as the family was concerned, rosinante had committed all three sins that night with his 'silly little plan' to snatch up law, the op op fruit, and run to the nearest marine base. the moment he hid law away in a chest, and admitted to his brother's face that law had eaten the fruit doflamingo had been searching years for, rosinante should have been fated to die. should have.

but death would have been too simple a punishment, wouldn’t it?

instead the spy awoke a week later, alive but very much not well. his wounds were patched enough to no longer be teetering on edges between worlds of the living and the dead. his captors refused him the ‘mercy’ of painkillers, allowing the brutal sharpness of cracked ribs and aches of torn muscles to keep him tethered to the living when he longed for death. 

each day since had been its own nightmare. an odd nightmare, where he was still granted the "respect" of his brother's stupid title for him, given jobs to do just as always, and allowed to live in the palaceーbut little respect anywhere else. one where he was recognized as the king's brother, but fitted with a revolving assortment of shackles, collars, and arm binders depending on how "cooperative" he had been on any given day.

prince rosinante is a bit screwed up mentally, he remembers hearing diamante lie once after a failed attempt to get a blacksmith in the city to break them off. poor guy'll have fits where he tries to hurt himself sometimes, so these are just a precaution for his bad days when he's extra schizo. it’s not the most comfortable, so he’ll get whiny about it, but the young master would just die if something happened to his baby brother, y'know? 

yet, rosinante wouldn't go as far to say he was treated like a slave, but more like an unruly child. it was as if doflamingo had regressed back to when they were children, back when rosinante was still meek enough to be led around by the hand and willingly obedient to his every beck & call, and was forcing him to play along, too.

　　 it was a strange hell, the poistion he found himself in.

❝ i'm starving, ❞ he announced. ❝ do i have permission to eat now? ❞

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ @code01746 liked this for a starter ! : ̗̀➛

       Silence.                it  was  something  the  king  seemed  to  be  surrounded  in  now  adays.  just  the  silence  and  the  endless  ocean  of  thoughts  that  seemed  to  storm  within  the  cavity  of  his  skull.   In  the  dimly  lit  corridors  of  the  grand  palace  that  Doflamingo  claimed  as  his  own  kingdom,  the  air  was  thick  with  tension.  The  echoes  of  his  footsteps  reverberated  off  the  opulent  walls  as  he  made  his  way  back  from  a  clandestine  meeting  with  Kaido,  the  ominous  emperor  on  the  north  side  of  the  New  World.  The  subject  of  their  discourse  was  the  manufacturing  of  SMILE  fruits,  negotiations  over  the  production  of  the  artificial  Devil  Fruits  that  had  become  both  a  commodity  and  a  curse  to  most  who  have  come  across  them  or  have  been  unfortunate  enough  to  consume  them.  not  that  it  mattered  to  him.  as  long  as  he  got  what  was  promised  from  the  transaction  he  couldnt  give  a  single  fucking   care.   reclined  on  the  opulent  sofa  in  his  lavish  palace,  a  bottle  of  fine  wine  clasped  in  his   hand,  his  pierced  tounge  lapping  the  corner  of  his  lips  of  the  liquid  that  spilled  down  to  his  chin.  His  mind  swirled  with  the  intoxicating  combination  of  alcohol  and  his  motive  for  immortality.  having  a  kingdom  under  his  rule,  people  who  worshipped  him  as  a  god,  a  god  who  had  somewhow  showed  up  when  it  was  most  conveinent  and  gave  them  salvation  from  a  moment  of  disaster.  he  was  their  savior.  thier  god.

Dressrosa  flourished  under  his  rule.  he  made  it  a  paradise,  a  utopia  that  he  deserved.   he  was  brought  back  from  the  abyss  of  his  thoughts  by  the  soft  clicks  of  someone  approaching  his  lavished  space.  heterochromatic  brillant  blues  and  golds,  cold  and  calculating,  fixed  on  the  approaching  figure.  he  could  immediately  point  out    who  it  was  by  the  way  he  walked  alone.  it  was  his  sibling.  Corazon's  entrance  had  disrupted  the  suffocating  silence  that  lingered  in  the  air,  a  silence  that  was  about  to  shatter  like  glass.  it  was  probably  for  the  best. 

Perhaps  it  was  the  weight  of  their  shared  traumatic  past,  but  he  held  a  sympathetic  soft  spot  for  his  younger  brother.  a  smirk  eternally  plastered  across  his  face.  The  echoes  of  his  leather  shoes  reverberated  off  the  marble  walls  till  it  came  to  a  hault  before  him. 

           ❝             What  do  you  want,  Rosi?    *     Doflamingo's  voice  was  smooth  and  low,  a  chuckle  leaving  his  lips.             ❝             Shouldn't  you  be  off  somewhere  playing  the  good  cooperative  little  brother  and  doing  some  tasks  i  assigned  to  you?    *   

　lawwy? rosinante snatched the nickname before it floated away with the sea breeze, interest piqued how law—so stern & moody—could have earned himself one that was so… endearing, and said with such casualty.

he should restrain himself. keyword: should. the majority of his own nicknames were not said with embarrassment in mind—merely holdovers from their shared past, the same way law refused to part with rosinante’s codename he hadn’t used in thirteen years—but… this was certainly not something law would want him to know, and the confusion of the day’s events left rosinante feeling mischievous. sorry, kiddo; don’t think i’ll be able to help myself with this one.

he probably would have snickered right then—tilted forward, pressing for details on what exactly law did to earn such a name—if the thought wasn’t halted by the linguistic equivalent of cold water dumped down his back once a second name hit his ears. no, ‘hit his ears’ is too soft a phrase; socked him in the chest, more like. 

　　oh. oh. he gets it now. law. law, what the fuck?

suddenly, the secrecy made sense. the evasiveness, the lack of specifics—armed with nothing but vague instructions and an insistence on law’s part that he’d ‘understand when he gets there’. it made sense, yet didn’t make sense at all. why? did law not trust him to be able to handle the knowledge? did law not trust him that much?

no, no, that wasn’t it. the doctor had to be trying to protect his feelings; saving him the mental anguish of spending his entire weeklong sail thinking about the fact he was going to meet a man his adopted father almost murdered in broad daylight. not just a man but, as fate would have it, strawhat luffy’s brotherーthe boy who was almost murdered by rosinante's own not even that long ago.

law wasn't being secretive for the sake of being a controlling little shitーhe quite literally had no options other than to just not tell him and let rosinante come to that understanding on his own. because nothing law could have said would have prepared him having to deal with all of this.

❝ rosinante.❞ oh, absolutely not. with every new face, there was a debate whether or not he should vocalize his surname for his own safety. there was no debate here. he abso-fucking-lutely was not going to give this man his last name. ❝not that it matters—you can just forget it, if you want. law never calls me a thing other than cora, so either is... fine. ❞

AS  EXCITED  as  ace  seemed  to  be,  his  smile  quickly  washed  away.  replaced  with  confusion,  and  worry  as  soon  as  the  man  stumbled  on  his  own  feet.  just  by  getting  off  the  boat.  law  didn't  mention  him  much  either,  it  was  just  him  and  the  tall  blonde  man  with  make  up  spread  aross  his  visage.  

he  was  not  a  caretaker.  this  was  the  crew's  job  to  keep  the  fire  fist  in  check.  but  as  long  as  ace  knew,  this  island  was  a  hiding  spot.  a  place  where  a  dead  man's  walking.  town  filled  with  the  ghosts  of  his  past  and  many  regrets,  guilt  that  tried  to  eat  the  ravenette  alive  if  not  the  medication  coursing  through  his  body  to  calm  temper  matching  his  wildfire.

❝  hey,  uh.  y'kay  ?  ❞  his  head  tilted  to  the  side,  a  questioning  look  graced  the  man  but  he  quickly  seemed  to  regain  his  composture.  no  need  for  the  pirate  to  step  in  carrying  aid.  ❝  yeah  i  know  lawwy.  's  been  my  doc  the  entire  time.  and  much  more.  ❞ 

the  answer  was  vague,  since  he  had  no  idea  who  is  he  even  dealing  with.  ace  was  willing  to  put  his  trust  into  the  surgeon.  he  wouldn't  let  any  threat  to  enter  the  borders  of  this  island  while  the  fire  fist  was  still  around,  recovering.  ❝  the  name's  portgas  d.  ace.  but  who  are  ya'  exactly  ?  ❞

This idea wouldn’t leave my head so I just drew it.

@onepiecc said: ❛ don’t go. please. ❜ / [𝟐𝟎𝟎 𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐎𝐌 𝐃𝐈𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐔𝐄 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐒]

　　　【 i wasn't planning on leaving. 】

　rosinante had left briefly to go check the perimeter of their baseーan essential daily routine for an organization like the donquixote pirates, who always had to be up & ready to move at the first sign of trouble.

though, the spy did always find it strange it was a task he was assigned at all; with his 'muteness', it wasn't as if he could warn the other family members of encroaching danger if he was father away from themーneeding to write and, on occasion, use the short list of hand signs he knew to communicate nearly everythingーand if someone was accompanying him on patrol, then there really was no need for him to be there at all. he supposed doflamingo just wanted him busy with something, no matter how small.

he returned ten minutes later after another uneventful sweep of the area, sitting across from her and doing his best to drop the 'scary & aloof' act he put up with other family members, smiling more warmly now.

　　　　　【 i'll stay as long as you want me to. 】

　　　　　　❝ in the woods? ❞

　well, he was living in the woods so perhaps that was a dumb thing to be incredulous about. somewhat. for rosinante, it was not so much the idea of others living in the woods with him, but he fixated on the word she used: 'tribe'.

he thought he had done his due diligence when scooping out the perfect area to build his home; secluded enough from people to satiate paranoias about his safety, but close enough to a neighboring townーan hour or two, both waysーthat he didn't have forgo modern conveniences. he could still make a living off what he hunted & grew, he could still buy the things too impractical for him to make on his own and, most importantly, he could still read the daily newspaper & get information on the world. he was connected to civilization, but could still step away from it any time he wanted. that was for the best. for everyone.

still, the idea of living on indigenous land of some kind wasn't ideal. if he wasn't meant to be there, rosinante would relocate in a heartbeat; the last thing the world needed was another donquixote coming in and asserting themselves as an owner of land in a place that already belonged to someone else. still, he liked to think he knew these woods fairly well; as long as he'd been living there, he had never come in contact with anyone who wasn't just a passing traveler, or people who were lost like the girl herself was.

❝ not that i know of. the area i go hunting in is pretty wide, in all directions, and i've never been approached by anyone who claimed to also live out here. what... tribe, exactly? ❞

she's not sure how to approach the matter - her mother might be dead and she might be free to do how she pleases, but this freedom has come with a fear pudding would have never expected. this world is cruel just the same way as it is beautiful, once found the most prized treasure here's another popping up for a new generation to take over already. people like her will be sought after until the ends of time and staying guarded is truly the only way to survive in this new life she's been gifted.

"i'm not sure actually." hand reaches into the pocket of her coat to get the map that was given to her by a kind lady on the last island pudding had found, and back then the instructions seemed pretty clear - turns out perhaps she should brush up on those raw navigation skills acquired from her siblings. "i'm looking for a tribe that is supposed to live in the woods... i just wasn't told which ones." the awkward hint in her tone is hard to miss, and if it weren't for her dedication, pudding would almost believe she's just not meant to find her kind. "does anyone else live here, that you know of?"