IN the vast majority of his fights, rarely did an opponent decide to make a comment on his outfit, bringing a sardonic grin of amusement to Garou’s lips. This guy had no clue what he was in for. If he knew the truth as to what had happened to his shirt, just raggedy shreds and remnants left from how many days of intense battles against others? then he wouldn’t have said a single thing. It was a poor excuse of a cheap shot, one that might’ve worked on a lesser man, but the fighter didn’t take the bait. He had better ways to use his time than trying to defend being shirtless. 

“ No hero, huh? I’d say otherwise! ” Roundhouse connected squarely with the guy’s arm, noting he had thrown up a block quickly – good reflexes. But already Garou could tell he’d be able to keep this man on his toes, wondering if he might win with speed or strength. Maybe both. “ You’re the one who decided to step up just for the sake of some poor bastard! If that’s not a hero, then you’re just plain stupid. ” The launched uppercut was easily dodged, the following opening taken advantage of as he launched a jab that connected squarely to the man’s jaw. A familiar sensation, bone and flesh against knuckle. It only made him stronger, those micro-cracks in his own bone strengthened later by replenished calcium, callouses formed by the skin over time. 

ALREADY did he begin to piece things together – the poor aforementioned bastard’s words and now this asshole’s. Something about territory uttered from both. It seemed to be some gang bullshit. “ Frankly, you should be thanking me! ” Garou next swung a lead uppercut meant for the man’s stomach. “ It seems I chased a rival off your turf…! ”

The more Ace is standing in front of that strange man, and the more he understands that he made a mistake. Perhaps putting his nose in someone else's business is never a brilliant idea in the first place, but he has to defend his Pops’ frontiers, and the appearances of his supposedly regular business. Ace sighs, while he decides that he has no choice but to fight, since he’s a part of that business, and he can’t afford being trapped in jail. Decisions have been made, and Ace wouldn’t back down… Until the stranger begins to fight, and he witnesses the whole gap growing between the two of them. Massive… and completely swallowing Ace’s attempts to win.

He blocks the first salvo, but soon enough, he senses that he’s only defending himself, rather than being able to attack. The strength of the other man is beyond anything human in the first place, the swiftness of his movement, and the power of his hits each time creating more bruises on Ace’s freckled skin. “Shit…” He wipes the corner of his mouth, while his uppercut doesn’t hit anything but the void above his fist. Now, he’s at the fighter’s mercy, and the other one, of course, doesn’t give him one second to think or position himself back. “I hate… heroes!” Ace snaps, but his voice is soon to disappear in the loudest huff, his bones cracking so hard, the micro spears of pain traveling through his entire body unbearable. What the fuck is this man?

He bends down at the uppercut in his stomach, Ace trying his best to raise his fist to slam it in the man’s jawline, but he doubts he can make it. He’s literally vomiting blood at this point, his vision entirely blank, and his body trembling while his knees hit the ground. “I don’t need a guard dog here, fucking prick…” Ace whispers, still wrathful despite the pain. He raises his stare up, his tenebrous irises watching the grey-haired man with defiance. “You really got anger issues, man.” He growls, as he stands back up, and raises his closed fists. He’ll stop fighting once he’d be dead; this man is too dangerous for the sake of his family. 

Azure depths, gentle and calm, watched the reaction to the wanted poster as a small smile automatically spread over fair lips due to Ace’s outburst, which was, if he had to be honest, quite amusing. It awoke a warm feeling within the phoenix due to it making him happy to see the freckled male so bright. Sometimes, he caught glimpses of Ace being down and it didn’t settle well with the elder, but this was one of those things that, Marco knew would always make Ace cheer up.

Slender digits with ease let go, just in time as Ace took the wanted poster while he calmly leaned back against the wooden wall behind him.

      “  That you did-yoi..  ”

      “  I indeed did, just this morning. You got one interesting brother.  “

It was a very nice bounty for someone looking so young and was undoubtedly as young as he looked.

Ace has a hard time controlling his excitement, the very fact that at least his brother is sailing on the seas, the best news he heard for a little while now. With all the events, all of his own adventure, he put aside all his prior emotions regarding Goa island and the promise he made with Luffy and Sabo. It’s a sweet sensation to see that his favorite little dumbass of a brother is already throwing a tantrum, his carefree face exposed. Ace talked about it so much… He’s chirping, his smile unable to disappear as he almost snaps the poster off the phoenix’s hands, admiring the bounty.

“Look at him, he looks so dumb! Devilish monkey with his big smile.” Ace mocks, but his eyes are betraying the pride he’s experiencing at this moment. That little minx… Would he succeed and achieve his dreams? He’s deeply stubborn after all.

   “That’s just assholes with their ridiculous prejudices. Nothing you should care about when it comes to what you want on your body,” Law points out, golden eyes moving between the picture of the flower and his sketch. “Most of my tattoos are heart themed, a concept that has some effeminate connotations to it. Not that I cared. I knew what I wanted and what they meant to me. That was what mattered.”

   He does pause, pencil rising from the page and lowering enough for Ace to get a glimpse of a rather accurate rough sketch of an open hibiscus flower. A smirk touches the Hearts Captain’s face, Law remembering something amusing. When he got his shoulder tattoos he was on an island he’d never been to before. The first artist he found there made an insulting comment about the heart motifs he wanted on his skin. Law proceeded to give him a very personal and intimate anatomy lesson on how powerful he human heart is.

   “Didn’t stop me from mutilating a man for insulting them though,” he adds, gaze going back to the drawing and a sense of self-satisfied pride settling over him.

   Law listens intently to what Ace wants, even the reasoning he gives. He wasn’t searching for that information, not needing it to create the design, but he takes it all in anyway. It tells him this is important to him, that the flower represents someone in his life. Whoever this woman was she did something life changing for him, something he values. Law understands that. Almost all his own tattoos are to commemorate someone just as important to him.

   “And the chains?” he asks, writing a capital R inside the sketch of the hibiscus. He thickens some of the lines of the flower, making the border darker but keeping the realistic imagery. “Are they trapping the flower or is the flower breaking free of them?”

Law is right, of course. Ace is aware there’s no need to be actually unhappy with feminine attributes or drawings for a tattoo, and he made mostly a joke about the flowers, quite aware that he wishes to wear them no matter the remarks. He’s strong enough to make them all swallow their teeth if they ever get under his nerves. Tenebrous eyes attentive, he offers a smile to the story depicted by Law. “You and I pretty much know that there are always assholes on the seas to spoil the fun.” He approves, and hums. “However, I never thought that someone would mock your hearts. I don’t know your story, but I do believe there’s something behind the symbol you picked, and not only because you’re a surgeon.”

It’s true that Ace thought about it multiple times. Even if he seems a bit dumb sometimes, he’s perfectly able to recognize some pirates’ banner, operating as the second commander of Whitebeard. Law’s jolly roger is familiar and yet different from what he saw in the past, since Whitebeard has been using his connections all over the world to find his medicine. He wonders if, at any point, Law is not openly mocking Doflamingo’s brand, yet Ace senses that it’s not his place to question the captain about it. Not everyone wishes to talk about their grieves nor their affiliation, and he’s definitely the first one to understand that someone shall live with his secrets. After all, Law didn’t try to understand why he picked the hibiscus flower in the first place.

“Ah, I was almost disappointed the story didn’t end in something bloody!” He huffs and laughs, the pride smile over Law’s lips quite noticeable. His attention drifts back onto the drawing, and Ace can’t help but bend over the notebook, amazed. “Shit, you really can draw, Law.” He compliments with a whistling, ignoring the wrench those flowers provoke inside of his guts. Though, he’s quick to pause while Law is requesting how the chains would treat the flowers in the drawing, or if the plants would have their own effects upon the metal. Again, there’s a glimpse of his real emotions gleaming in the back of his irises.

would them just agreeing to pretend to have never seen one another be enough for this terrible situation to end? out of everyone for this accomplished pirate to run into on the base, it seemed truly unfair that it had to be himself, the universe throwing ridiculous challenges during one of the largest cons he had ever attempted. not that ace needed to know – junpei was just desperate to keep his cover as intact as his safety. careful green eyes watched the other peer out the door before facing him once more, urging him to relax, wearing a wide smile even though he could sense the other’s nervousness at being stuck here not wanting to be caught. to be fair, the conman was nervous too.

surprised caused watering eyes to open wide as he felt warm hands upon his face, thumbs wiping at his cheeks as the pirate continued to urge him to calm down, wanting him to stop crying. he felt… perhaps a little too scared and uncertain with this new variable to do so, sniffling as he shut his eyes once more to clear them of tears. he would do his best to ground himself, relieved that it seemed the man wasn’t at least openly judging him.

“ i-i’m just a secretary for a vice admiral… ” junpei seemed to lament, accepting the distraction of easy questions for conversation. he supposed ace made a valid point that he wouldn’t win a fight attempting to escape the base. exhaling a shaky breath, it seemed finally the tears were beginning to stop, the soothing voice the other adopted helping his sensitive nature. but truly did the secretary feel no obligation or true duty to the marines – he nodded at the question if he could follow orders and obtain a uniform for the other to sneak out. a reward wouldn’t hurt. the pat on the head was a gentle touch that seemed to help him relax further, enough for him to clear his throat gently, reaching over for a handshake, though his own grip wasn’t particularly strong or proud, other hand wiping the last of the water from his face.

“ … junpei. my name is junpei. ” he liked how warm the other was, both physically and in demeanor, more willing to help by the minute. he always preferred pirates over marines anyways. “ i can’t help you leave the base but i’ll go find a uniform for you. ”

If Ace has some business to deal with the Navy, and if he doesn’t mind sneaking inside their bastion and stealing items, he doesn’t like to hurt or scare people who seem innocent. He feels quite unhappy to make someone cry because of his presence, his jokes and his goofy attitude misinterpreted as something dangerous, and he has to find a solution. He can’t deal with that man like he would deal with his brother, a hit over his skull far from being a good solution and adding even more problems to his already messy situation. No, he needs to be smart and gain an ally. Perhaps if he sneaks out this time without stealing anything, and comes back with a backup inside, he would be more successful, so that crying baby of man could be an asset in the future? He seems too scared to snitch on him anyway.

“Sssh, please calm down, you’re okay.” He continues to wipe those gross tears, the pad of his thumbs warm and comforting. He usually uses it for ladies in distress, but he doesn’t mind using a bit of his charm for a man who’s about to collapse under the weight of helping a pirate escaping the navy. He’s lucky at least to meet the secretary of a vice-admiral, and not a trainee in civilian clothes. It’s easier to corrupt him, as he didn’t make any vow to fulfill his duty toward the marine, no matter the situation. “A secretary?” He smiles and abandons his cheeks, sliding his hands off while brushing his jaw right until he breaks the contact. “Perhaps a bit of spice in your day could be enjoyable, and I promise, really, I won’t hurt you in any way.”

@inksofoblivion

Nobody knew them there as anything other than students. Law was aware of that, and maybe that was why he did one too many bombs of Mandy, and they all hit him at once. He felt like floating in the most wonderful of ways, feeling all those pleasant waves of emotion crashing against his very core. One after the other, washing over him. He saw Ace there, standing talking to other people and his heart did beat faster, his pupils widened. He knew it was the drug, exacerbating tenfold whatever liking he had taken to the raven, and he was so gleeful about it that he truly did not mind to act on that. Law got closer, literally pulling Ace out of the conversation. Before he could protest he planted a kiss on those soft lips of his, watching him with amused eyes, a lazy smile spreading across his lips. Before anything was said, Law kissed him again. A slow, burning kiss. Once it broke his inked fingers lazily traced along his jawline, his bewitching golden eyes contemplating his hand's trajectory before they fell on him again. "...why are you wearing a shirt today, from all days, huh?" His hands have found purchase on his waist, gently, but firmly. He wanted it off to feel that skin against his hands.

After a long week of stressful work, Ace somehow surrendered to the siren call of multiple of his friends, using his youth and his usual cute face to crash another of these student parties, where he doesn’t belong. People are often mistaking him from “that dude” from the campus, because it’s not the first time he’s entering a party without being invited in the first place, enjoying the cheap booze and the compliments, and somehow forgetting about his affiliation with the mafia mob. He adores his life, but he sometimes needs the thrill to be someone else, collecting some information here and there regarding potential new clients.

Tonight, though, he’s not really working, his mind troubled by both his drink, but also the presence of a certain student. He tries his best to remain focused on the conversation he’s sharing with one of the guests, but the more the party goes wild, the more he senses that Law is highly different than usual. His surprise is noticeable when the raven-haired decides to interrupt his dull debate, forcing Ace to lock his eyes on his pretty face and endure his twisted intentions. Before he could ask if the man is out of his mind, his behavior far from his usual self, Law kisses him. Eyes wide open, Ace doesn’t know how to answer, his body completely frozen and yet literally melting at the same time. 

Usually, Law ignores him, or hurts him by hinting on someone else because it’s always about who is able to destroy the other one’s mood… Their moments together are the most gentle caresses, but as soon as they are done, they cruelly harm the other one and Ace is deeply wary and bitter because of it. However, tonight, it seems that Law wants something more; he’s different. The second kiss is the end of Ace. Slowly, he surrenders to that sudden softness and passion, his entity burning from the inside, while he rolls his fingers behind Law’s nape, and pulls him closer, answering the kiss by moving his lips, tongue strongly dancing with his.

zoro and sake formed an almost inseparable combination, but despite this fact, he could have gently given his bottle to the captain’s brother … except it wouldn’t have been as much fun as having a little challenge. the sea was rather quiet and everyone else seemed to be having a good time, so why not? the little smile at the corner of his lips only increased when he saw his opponent mimic his behavior, causing the swordsman to place the bottle on the table  ,  away from where the awaited battle would happen so the prize would be visible (  and to serve as motivation  )  . the swordsman couldn’t control his laughter at the teasing  , causing him to flex his muscles harder to make it even more obvious  , leaning over the table  .

“  well …  it’s not like i was hiding anything  ” oh  , he was having so much fun already!!  the preparations began  : his left hand rested on his knee and his legs spread to give more stability , to keep his body steady. he makes the first move and holds ace’s hand, eyes fixed on his. “  you can still give up  ” . 

He senses it… the familiar sensation of a thrilling challenge, his grin widening and his confidence peaking at the same time. Zoro is a thorough trained opponent, he’s far more muscular than Ace, but the second commander doesn’t look like a stick next to him either. He wrestled in the past with Luffy, and each time, he beat his ass, no matter how hard the young man was trying. He eyes the bottle with far more interest now that Zoro exposed it as a treat, the reward for this battle definitely something he desires. Perhaps not as much as to kick his challenger’s ass, but still… he’s thirsty for victory. Tenebrous eyes fall on the bumping bicep, his own arm flexed to hopefully match his monstrous body.

   Golden eyes locate the scabbard under the remains of a table he had to smash the demon’s face into a moment ago. He kicks over a few pieces of wood and steps on the end, making the long scabbard flip upwards so he doesn’t have to bend down to pick it up. He catches it, turning about to eye the hunter now pocking around in his kill. This guy just keeps getting ruder. Sassing his combat style and now thinking he can collect on Law’s spoils? This dude is an asshole.

   “You call that a compliment? Gotta work on your positive reinforcement game, dude,” he says, stepping closer with the intent of using his demonic sword to ward this guy off before he takes any part of the monster he actually needs.

   Then the other hunter rises, clearly disinterested in the demon’s remains. A frown, eyes watching with care. Law sheaths Kikoku, hands moving to her red cord to begin unwinding it into a strap he can hang over his shoulder. Then the weirdo hunter makes this even worse. Law straightens, glaring at the back of his head. There isn’t supposed to be a horde of demons around here, not this close to the cathedral. And that tap to the ear, something is very wrong here. Mouth opens to question, the priest not liking this at all. Then he feels the vibration on his chest.

   Gaze drops to his cross, eyes widening at the burning red light bursting through the engravings in the metal. Hands quickly tie the last knot in the cord and he throws Kikoku haphazardly over his shoulder. If he’s dealing with a group this big he is going to need far more than just the sword, regardless of how powerful she is. Hands plunge into the folds of his robes, fingers trailing over a couple hidden clips. Two spare. One pistol fully loaded and the other down a bullet. Odds aren’t looking good.

   “A horde shouldn’t be getting this close,” he mutters, both guns getting cocked with a click. “The fuck is going on.” He strides past the other hunter, moving towards the window to get a look outside. And then he smells blood. Head whips around, a sharp breath getting pulled into his lungs when he sees his new companion cutting open his palm. “Christ! The hell are you doing!? If your blood really does attract them you’re gonna draw them right to us you fuckin’ idiot!”

What kind of temper does this one have? Ace is aware that a lot of demon hunters are solitary wolves, wary and bitchy, but this one seems to have anger issues. He doesn’t really care about his demeanors, but he senses his energy drained by the everlasting bitter sensation floating around him. Ace knows that it’s not his place to inspect the ashes in the first place, but what he does with the demon bones’ powder is usually unorthodox and forbidden. Unless that prick is also looking to commit a dark mass himself in the future? It’s the best way for Ace to summon a maximum number of demons in one place and corrupt the pandemonium print on the ground with his blood. Radical and gory.

“Sorry, never heard of manners before, and wouldn’t start today.” He offers a sly smile to his cold ass encounter. He has never been someone utterly polite, using a fake one to soothe the tensions within the coven, but otherwise, he doesn’t really give a damn if someone perceives him as an asshole. He is one by definition, but he’s inclined to help people, so he’s often forgiven. At least, that’s what he believes.

He feels slightly sorry for the other hunter, but it’s often the deal when Ace is around. The Cathedral’s energy might help protect them, his style far more efficient than on an open-field, but he knows it can be slightly overwhelming. “Don’t worry, you’re just going to sweat a little bit more than usual.” Ace smiles and picks a small crystal gem from his pocket. He plasters droplets of his blood on it, and begins to recite Latin verses, the crystal turning entirely black. It glows within his hand, a soft symphony emanating from the jewel. Ace passes by the hunter and slams it against his chest.