Hes Still The Same Brat With The Same Smirk

he’s still the same brat with the same smirk

　　❝ eh... concussion-consmushun. though, i wouldn't know the square root of 64 under normal circumstances, sorry to say. ❞

rosinante waved off the concern as he always did, but one could never be sure if the dismissiveness was him not wanting to worry others, or the hallmark of a man so desensitized to the traumatic day-to-day happenings that it genuinely didn't register as an issue anymore.

　❝ whichever you want to use is fine. both is fine, honestlyーjust don't use rosinante around law. i guess for thirteen years, he thought of me as nothing but cora, so it throws him off whenever i use my real name around him. ❞

not that rosinante was complaining; there was a brief unease in the beginning simply because the name itself was rooted to his codename within the donquixote pirates. hearing it spoken aloud again upon his reunion with law was like he had gone back to a time & place that he'd rather not remember.

but there was also sweetness tied to it. particularly, the memory of the first time law had ever called him coraーover breakfast one morning, and rosinante felt like he was dreaming. the night before it had felt like the sky was crashing down on him, but just hearing that one little name filled his chest with a new determination.

　so, yeah. rosinante was nice. but cora was something he didn't think he'd ever be able to let go of.

@code01746

Ikkaku smiled at the tall blonde's response and shook her head. "If you had brain damage, I'm pretty sure Law would have scanned you for it long before now," she stated. "I'm more concerned about a concussion you might have gotten from that fall."

His clumsiness had certainly been cause for concern, the first time she'd seen it. Really, she had been worried about possible brain damage at the time, but Law had assured her that the man was "just like that." Of course, Ikkaku had still installed extra fire extinguishers throughout the submarine, though she'd demanded that the smoking inside be kept to a minimum, if not outright banned. The oil, gas, and other flammable things that her job involved had made her very conscious of fire safety and with how clumsy this man was, she feared a lit cigarette going flying and setting something ablaze. Her hair included.

She studied him carefully. Partially checking for injuries, but partially just observing this man who was apparently important to Law's past. Another piece to the puzzle that was Trafalgar Law. She adored her captain, but he could be a frustrating enigma.

However, this blonde, sunny idiot was helping her see things a little clearer. At least, she could better understand why Law put up with his Hearts' idiocy and shenanigans when he held such strong affection for this one. Perhaps they reminded Law of him these past thirteen years.

The thought stirred mixed feelings within her, but then again, she had a lot of conflicting feelings since Law returned from Dressrosa.

"Well, you don't look injured. Still, better to check." She held up two fingers. "How many fingers am I holding up? What's the square root of 64? And...what's your name?" Ikkaku asked, slightly sheepish. "I know Law calls you 'Cora-san,' but I feel like that name's got some history. What would you rather I call you?" It was something she'd been wanting to know, but unsure how to ask. Sure, Law had introduced his savior to his crew, but it felt odd, calling him the title that Law did without permission. But the name Donquixote Rosinante had its own history attached to it. So she'd rather hear from him what he'd like to be called.

　　　　　❝ a six? ❞

　alarm hadn't reached his voice, but the brief spike from rosinante's brows was enough to convey the older man wished law had said something sooner.

anything higher than a three (dishearteningly common as it might have been these past few months with these daily check-ins) was worth noting, but a six? that was double. that was past the halfway point. that meant law was more actively in pain than not, and the thought was enough to twist the donquixote's gut. he rocked himself to a sitting position, fixing the boy with a stare somewhere bordering between stern & soft.

　❝ kiddo... ❞ he sighed. ❝ thank you for being honest with me, but i really wish you would tell me when things start getting bad sooner. a six is too much, if you ask me. at this point, i'm scared i'll forget to ask one of these days and come back to camp with you having fainted again. is it a... pride thing? are you worried i'm gonna leave you behind like a pack animal that's gotten too sick to take care of? are you scared i'll take you back to the hospital? do you still not trust me? ❞

  𝐋𝐚𝐰   𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝𝐧𝐭   𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩   𝐛𝐮𝐭    𝐜𝐡𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐥𝐞𝐝   𝐚𝐭   𝐑𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞'𝐬   𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐤.   𝐡𝐢𝐬   𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬   𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥   𝐢𝐝𝐥𝐲   𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐢𝐧𝐠   𝐭𝐡𝐞   white   splotches   that   adorned   his   complexion   from   the   'poison'   running   through   his   veins.   it   was   something   he   hated   that   he   was   forced   to   be   stuck   with.   a   reminder   of   how   the   other   children   they   would   pass   by   upon   their   venture   would   call   him   all   sorts   of   names   in   which   he   would   always   have   a quick   come   back   or   a   simple   flick   of   his   middle   finger.   where   he   learned   such   a   gesture?   he   wouldn't   say.       ❝      Well,   maybe   .   .   .   just   maybe   .   .   my   taste   buds   are   just   more   refined.    ❞         he   teased,   poking   fun   at   himself   before   sobering   up   at   the   question   about   his   pain.

He   hesitated   for   a   moment,   considering   his   response.   It   wasn't   𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐲   𝐟𝐨𝐫   𝐡𝐢𝐦   𝐭𝐨   𝐚𝐝𝐦𝐢𝐭   𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬,   always   wanting   to   seem   capable   and   strong   ;    especially   to   someone   he   slowly   grew   to   care   about.   But   .   .    he   trusted   Rosinante,   and   he   knew   the   importance   of   being   honest   about   his   condition.   ❝         Let's   see...   ❞     Law   paused,   mentally   assessing   his   discomfort.    ❝        I'd   say   it's   about   a   six   today,   ❞        he   finally   admitted,   𝐚   𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐭   𝐨𝐟   𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐮𝐜𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞   𝐢𝐧   𝐡𝐢𝐬   𝐯𝐨𝐢𝐜𝐞.     

   ❝        It's   manageable,   though.   I've   had   worse.   ❞        He   appreciated   Rosinante's   concern,   even   if   he   didn't   always   show   it.   Deep   down,   he   knew   he   was   lucky   to   have   someone   looking   out   for   him,   someone   who   cared   enough   to   ask   about   his   well-being   every   day.   It   was   a   small   gesture,   but   it   meant   the   world   to   him. 

tragic fictional siblings... save me...

tragic fictional siblings

save me tragic fictional siblings

i am so mad.

@ryathenaughtykitsune // continued from ask prompt.

　　　❝ sorry, i... can't. ❞

　rosinante shook his head for added emphasis. though, he wasn't exactly sure what he could & couldn't have, exactly. his brother's rules for him seemed to change by the day. whether it was his whims, or his mood, or something rosinante himself had done, he wasn't sure. but accepting things without prior approval (especially food) wasn't generally allowed. were he more paranoid, he probably would have assumed this was some sort of test. a test he wasn't going to fail, no matter how appetizing the candy looked.

　❝ i'm allergic, ❞ he lied.