Oh, Nothing Invasivedon't Worry!

❝ oh, nothing invasiveーdon't worry! ❞
not that rosinante was curious to know such things anyway, but law would probably, definitely, without a doubt try to stab him again if he ventured anywhere close to 'too personal' territory. it wasn't as if there was any moral dilemma stopping him now; he was a doctor. any wounds he inflicted he could just fix later. plus, the ex-marine wasn't exactly versed in all the different ways law had learned to use the devil fruit he gave him all those years agoーbut he had learned law had adapted it to be used during combat, which could guarantee danger in his future if he wasn't careful.
❝ i'm just... surprised. law's still the same snappy little loner that i remember him being when he was a kid, y'know? getting him to talk about anything too personal is like pulling teeth. i literally had to almost bleed out in front of him to see him cry for the first time. i know he's a sweet kid inside, but... it takes a lot of pushing to get there. you're clearly someone really special to be able to do that. ❞


"Ah-" Little did the man before her know that while Nami appeared incredibly confident in her relationship when she was with Law, that she very much was the type to blush when it came to discussing their relationship. Perhaps the allied pirate captain's combined embarrassment and enjoyment at being one another's is what had Nami along his lap or throwing her arms around him. Little things like grasping his hand in public and stolen kisses while everyone was watching was just an added perk.
Of course his Cora-san would want to know more, but it didn't mean she was prepared in any way to talk about it. Pushing past the flush of her cheeks she nodded. "I don't usually kiss and tell, but I might be willing to make an exception depending on the question."

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More Posts from Code01746
❝ because no one else is apologizing to you, so i figured you'd want to hear it from somebody. ❞ especially if that somebody is the one who keeps putting you through this.
the blonde prayed that the kid didn't pick up on how sympathetic his tone was (something that had lead to arguments about being patronized and 'treated like a baby' in the past) as he turned his back and busied himself cleaning up the remains of their campsite. he dug his heels into the base of a tree until he was satisfied with the grip, shimmying halfway up the trunk until he could undo the rope suspending their rations of food higher up out of reach of the wildlife.
it fell with a thud, and him down with it. he tried not to wince at the pinecones digging into his back. it's fine. he was fine. totally part of the plan. from his face-up position on the forest floor, he rolled his eyes at the new question.
❝ no umeboshi, ❞ he promised bitterly. ❝ are you still mad about that? ❞
rosinante didn’t appreciate how law spoke about a favorite snack of his with the same guarded suspicion as if the plums were poison. not at all; to be honest, it stung, especially when he shared them with the intention of giving law something he thought was a treat. he loved umeboshi when he was law’s age, what gives? and why did criticism of your favorite things always seem to hurt more when coming from children?
❝ y’know… for someone feral enough to stab me through my ribcage despite being warned my brother would skin you alive if he found out, i didn’t expect a little sourness to turn you into a such a regular, fussy kid. ❞


small shoulders were slouched. The sterile scent of disinfectant with the subdued hum of medical machinery mingling with the hushed whispers of medical staff. he could remember everything because it was a repeat in each one he was taken to. every hospital they visited was the same. people would look at him in disgust and would avoid him like the plague. he wouldn't say aloud but it hurt. his life was limited. the clock would tick as if taunting him. his pale complexion and splotched skin ; a deadly reminder of the poison running through his very veins, sapping away at his life each passing day. his dreams often leading to what awaits him, a dark, cold & empty void. he sighed, a weariness that seemed to reach into the depths of his soul. He ran a hand through his short hair, fingers tangling in the strands. His stern expression softened momentarily as he observed the blond. the genuine remorse in his words. The silence between them was palpable, the ravenette's expression was a canvas of fatigue, lines etched deep into his face from the relentless battles he had faced within his own body.
the small breath seemed to carry the weight of his burdens. His fingers absentmindedly traced the white splotches decorating his arm ❝ you don't need to apologize... there's no point to. i dont know why you keep trying. ❞ Law finally spoke, his voice calm. perhaps it was acceptance of whats to come. gold irises bore into his. the sound of grilled fish sounded promising. ❝ ...you're not gonna slip an umeboshi in it this time are you? ❞

send me questions you have about my character!
anything and everything. favorites. thoughts on people, on events. what they would do in a certain situation. how things would be different if something had/hadn’t happened. simple questions, complex questions. have at it!
@rubctosis ❤️'d for a thing.

❝ look. i’m sorry about the… hospital, thing...❞
deja vu. rosinante had to have opened conversations with this exact line before. more than once or twice. more than he wanted to think about. his body language always ended up being the same, too; heavy sighing, scrunched mouth, and eyes averted whether or not law was too upset to look in his direction.
he never felt guilty about what he did to the doctorsーoh, absolutely not. fuck those guys. they're doctors; if there was anybody qualified to treat a couple bloody noses or some first-degree burns, it was doctors. plus, they were already in the perfect place to have their injuries treated, too, so the spy wasn't going to lose sleep over it. they'd be fine. but, although he hesitated to admit it aloud out of fear of bonding with the little shit and therefore making it that much harder to convince him to leave the family behind altogether, he did feel bad for subjecting law to it.
the visits clearly stressed him outーwhich wasn't ideal for anyone, but especially not him. normal, healthy people got sick all the time from high stress, so he couldn't imagine its effects on a terminally ill kid whose body was slowly but surely falling apart. thus, all rosinante could do was slip into this same routine over and over again: sheepish apologies & half-assed bribes.
❝ what can i do make it up to you? you want... grilled fish for dinner? you wanna sleep in a cushy bed at an inn tonight rather than camping outside? ❞


later I’m gonna have him remove all the asbestos too