Letterbox Tbt - Tumblr Posts

a package had, somehow, found its way aboard to polar tang and in the captain’s quarters. how did mail even get delivered to a submarine that spent most of its time underwater? a holiday miracle, perhaps. the contents of the package were strange; a leather bag with a collection of antique-looking jars & medical tools, and a letter addressed to heart pirates’ captain. 

to the “surgeon of death”,

   not to criticize, but could you have maybe picked something a little nicer for your nickname? i know you can be a morbid little freak sometimes, but that doesn’t inspire much confidence in your ability as a doctor. just saying. if my surgeon for my ankle reconstruction as a kid was calling themselves “dr. death”, i might have turned around and hobbled myself right out of the hospital.

but, speaking of things that are morbid and/or freaky, i found these antiques. i think it’s a bloodletting kit? my choices were between either this or an orbitoclast, and… it’s not that i don’t trust you with lobotomy tools, but i don’t trust you with lobotomy tools. it’s not that i think you would hurt anybody, but you’re too mischievous for your own good sometimes and i feel like you’d use it to scare your friends or something. like i said: morbid little freak (love you, though).

maybe you could tell me more about them next time i visit? or, another great idea—you come visit me? hmm? or, call… sometimes, y’know? i know you’ve got your own life, and your own things going on, i’m sure you’re busy—but if i’m the only one who calls, i just feel like i’m bothering you, y’know? it’s strange; all i wanted during the thirteen years we were apart was to bother you—i had so much i wanted to say, so many little gifts i bought with the hopes i could give them to you one day, but now i’m just… scared to?

i don’t want you to be annoyed with me calling you every day, i guess is what i’m saying. it’s hard to tell if i’m if i’m the only one calling. but i know you’re busy, so i don’t hold it against you, but, if you're not annoyed… maybe call me after you get this? or, when you’ve got time. if you want. no pressure.

　　　　　　　　　love you,

  　　　　　　　　　　 cora

law settles down on the bed, the soft norther-style fur hat placed on the small bedside table, on top of a pile of books he had been reading all at once, a mixture of medicine matters, historical events of the new world of recent centuries and maybe a comic tugged in between. golden eyes take in all the lines of the card. "not like i was the one who suggested it," he sighs a little. his crew had been awfully excited about the navy's pick for them. at least, he's luckier than some others with epithets they'd never get rid of again.

there is certainly no denial when it comes to accepting he has quite a morbid humor at times, somewhere closer to being scary than funny. he can't change it ... ah, cora-san does really know him well, it cracks a small grin on his lips as he gives the tools a short look. it's a gift so he would cherish it either way, no matter if they might not leave the polar ever again.

white teeth bite down on roughed-up pink lips, an indication he is doing this far too often whenever he is by himself, too many thoughts to find solutions to each of them at once. of course, law knows this isn't far from the truth. whenever it comes to staying in touch, it's oddly difficult for him. somehow, he started to put up walls in his life, even for those closest to him. he should be more mindful of how they hurt them one or the other way.

he often thinks about calling but whenever he does try, he finds himself realizing that there's nothing he i has to tell. instead, he knows all he wants sometimes is to listen to the other man. how he rambles ahead, about everything and nothing and it's all that breaks through a comforting silence. law is the opposite, not a man of many words but he can cherish the neverending stories of the blond.

"tch," he sighs, carefully placing the letter in between the pile of books. "calling underneath the sea really ain't that easy," fingers tapping against his knee before he pushes himself up, instead, pulling out an empty line and a pencil, words scribbled down as he writes his thoughts down. this, unlike talking, comes much easier to him.

@code01746, cora-san : there was a new textbook (“medical illustrations: the unsettling art of human anatomy”) left on law’s work desk as a gift, with a letter sitting on top. hearts were drawn all over the envelope, either in reference to the man who wrote it, or a passive-aggressive display of affection directed at the captain who would bristle with embarrassment if rosinante so much as patted his back affectionately in front of his crewmates. kiddo, not sure what your plans are today, but hopefully i made the envelope conspicuous enough you at least notice this before it’s over. was twenty hearts enough? if not, i’ll double the amount for next year, and yes that’s a threat. i can’t believe i just wrote that : next year. i used to dream about spending holidays with you again. i’d say i’m still dreaming if it weren’t for the fact my dreams are the only place i’m not clumsy. (also, your dream version does think my devil fruit is cool.) for that reason, i feel like i should be more bummed i don’t have you all to myself anymore, like it was back when we were traveling. you’ve got a crew, your friends (sorry, “allies”), and a husband. an old guy like me is probably last on your list of people you wanna spend time with. but this is everything i ever wanted for you — how could i be upset?  i obviously missed out on a lot. i wish i could have been there the day you cured yourself, or met your crew, became a captain—all of it. but seeing everything it’s led to, knowing what full life you’ve had and how much love is in it… it’s a gift. that’s the only way i can describe it: seeing you living is a gift. so, go ahead! have fun.   happy valentine’s, kiddo. - c.

deft fingers carefully graze over the hard cover front of cora-san's gift. he had not expected anything, let alone a gift from none other than the man who had saved his life. taught him how to love again. to have hope. that, in law's eyes, was a gift enough — the strength to continue. law scans the contents of the letter accompanying the new book with his free hand, eyes flitting through the handwritten words & mentally takes note that cora-san's writing does indeed suit his personality.

law's face shows no emotion whilst scanning the letter, despite the many emotions that surge forth. he reads once, and then reads it thrice more to make sure he understands & processes each and every word with the weight it deserves.

he supposes they'll have a lot to talk about, upon their next rendevous. ... he supposes that he'll have to bring ace along, too, for moral support — a sentiment that no longer rings alarm bells in his mind at the very idea.

the surgeon carefully places the heartfelt letter atop a pile of paperwork to be sorted & put away safely later. for now, he picks up the book and allows the corners of his lips to tug upwards.

a new display would greet the fire fist the moment he retreated into his bedroom in the hours leading up to valentine’s day: twenty specimens—twenty bugs, to be specific—ranging from ornate beetles to praying mantises were lined up with glass jars, with their exact species & area of origin clearly labeled on the bottom. a gift from one nature enthusiast to another. a letter was left on the corner of the display table. 

ace, 

   is it strange to write your son-in-law a valentine’s note? maybe. i’ve never had a son-in-law before, so no idea. but this is business as usual for me, though; law’s nickname for me is short for corazon—if that gives you any indication of what kind of guy i am. i used to do stuff like this all the time when he was younger, and i guess since you’re part of his life now, that should include you. 

i feel like i shouldn’t say“welcome” because, when i came back into law’s life, you were already here. it’s not my place—i’m the stranger, my opinion isn’t something you should care about. so maybe… thank you for welcoming me? i guess it’s true what they say about south blue hospitality: there’s nothing else like it.

but also, thanks for making law happy. i’m not exactly sure how you make him happy yet because talking about emotions isn’t something he does unless you’re literally bleeding out in front of him (don't ask how i know that), but i can see the changes anyway. at least i think i can. i’ve obviously been out of that kid’s life for a long time—but i remember how he was when we got separated. scared. angry. miserable. 

he’s still a moody little runt sometimes, but he’s world’s way from what he was at his worst. so, thanks for helping pick up the pieces while i couldn’t. thanks for giving him a shoulder to lean on, a place to go, someone to confide in—whatever it is you’ve done to make him happy. plus, law has got some high standards—i don’t think he’d fall for just anybody, so you must be an impressive young man yourself. do you know how hard it is for me to impress him? pretty sure i haven’t yet. he just glares and rolls his eyes.

anyway, i hope you two have a nice holiday, and spend it doing something that has nothing to do with overthrowing an island’s tyrannical government (as cool as that is, don’t get me wrong—that just sounds stressful). looking forward to getting to know you more soon, fire fist. i'll see you around.

 　　　　　　　　　　　- corazon

BROWN - CHOCOLATE  eyes  carefully  eye  every  letter  sealed  now  on  the  snow-white  page  of  a  paper  in  his  hands.  if  he  expected  to  get  anything  for  valentine's  day  (  and  to  his  surprise,  he  did  )  then  it  certainly  didn't  fail  to  surprise  him  that  the  man  claiming  to  be  law's  family  left  a  note  and  a  small  gift  for  the  firefist  to  enjoy.  

handful  of  jars  with  labels  now  resting  on  a  wooden  table  in  front  of  his  seat.  all  of  the  words  managed  to  sink  in  like  a  destroyed  ship  and  be  swallowed  by  the  mother  sea  herself.  

a  wash  of  pity  and  gratitude  mixed  with  many  other  feelings  now  swirling  within  the  pirate's  heart  as  if  it  was  a  living  flame  dancing  to  its  heart's  content.  a  warm  smile  welcomed  itself  over  the  fire  fist's  features  at  the  very  end  of  the  letter.  he  sat  back,  settling  the  paper  down  onto  the  table,  and  looked  up  the  wooden  roof  of  his  small  house  at  the  sandy  lands  of  dryville.

there was a suspiciously large sack of beri sitting on the navigator's desk, one that she certainly would have noticed so one could only assume it had been snuck in the last time she was out. totaled up, the sum appeared to be in the range of 50,000 beri. at the absolute bottom of the sack, there was a crinkled letter.

nami,

i feel somewhat bad about not getting you an actual gift (i hope that doesn’t make you think i didn’t want to make the effort) but, when i asked law for advice on what i should get, he insisted (several times, even) that you would prefer straight cash instead. so, whatever you chose to buy with this, i hope you enjoy.

why did i want to get you a valentine’s gift? well, because you’re important to law—and, sorry to say, but that automatically makes you important to me, too. all of you strawhats are—i mean, i don’t think law would be alive without you guys—but you, especially.

i like showing appreciation when i can, because you never know when it’s the last time you might see someone. back when we first separated, the one thing i regretted most was not having enough time to say more than just ‘i love you’, or not having paper to at least write down some words for him to remember me by. knowing that i survived that, and there was so much more i could have said and didn’t—it taught me a valuable lesson about time, y’know? and now that i’ve given with a second chance, i’m not wasting one moment of it.

you picked an interesting kid to fall in love with. that probably makes you pretty interesting yourself. i would joke i have no idea how a little brat like that could end up with a sweet girl like you, but we both know law is a lot mushier inside than he lets on, so you two make perfect sense to me. more so, after knowing how much you two have in common. not just him, i’m glad both of you have that connection—i hope it’s made things easier to process for you both.

ah, i shouldn’t take up too much of your time—i’m sure law will get mad at me for getting in the middle of whatever you guys have planned. so, enjoy yourselves! there’s still a lot i want to know about you, so let’s get breakfast sometime next week. (I’ve got plenty of stories about law to share, if you’re interested). 

                 　　　 - with warmth, 

 　　　　　　　　　   rosinante (corazon) 

Count money, ask questions later was Nami's prerogative. Well, after she initial excitement from receiving such a gift at all. Law truly knew the correct gift to advise for his dragon girlfriend. She'd spent a good solid thirty minutes just hugging the bag, gushing at how someone must have really liked her to give her such a lovely Valentine's gifts.

But who? Not Law. His gift came in the form of a diamond necklace that she was likely never taking off. Her crew members weren't the type to leave secrets gifts, rather preferred to make it known so it could be used against each other later... except for Sanji... but no, not Sanji. He couldn't keep secrets from her to save his life.

Not that she actually cared who it came from. All she cared about was money, money, money, money... And naturally, a woman such as herself was going to count it up and add up the total to her own private funds (it was a gift, after all. she didn't have to share it with her crew... even though she would likely in return use it on gifts, clothes and food at some point).

Imagine the thief cat's surprise when she found the letter at the bottom of the bag in a hand writing she didn't recognize immediately. Keeping her emotions in check immediately went out the window. To receive such a letter from someone so important to the person she had found herself falling deeper for every day.

"Oh, Cora-san," she sighed, wiping a tear away and carefully folding the letter, using a pin from her desk to tack it to the front of the bag where it belonged. No, she would not be spending this bag of berry after all. It would remained locked in her treasure box until the right time came to use it.

Later. Much later. Likely to one day put the very man that gave it to her in a retirement home for ex-marines. A really good retirement home, one that she would have entrusted to her own ex-marine parental figure had she ever been given the chance.

Law was so lucky to have this other chance, but that made her lucky too. Not only to have him, but to have the chance to meet the man that shaped his life.

Positive her hoard was carefully locked away, Nami gathered the meager gift of chocolates (home made with the assistance of Sanji) she had prepared for the man she sought him out.

"Thank you, Cora-san!" Hugging him somewhere around the kneecap she held out the chocolates. "