❣ Corazón

My main has one of these, so I thought I'd make one for here too.

Hiii- I go by Rabbit (or Rory if you prefer in person names), and I've been writing intermittently on this platform for 10+ years. This is a sideblog for Donquixote Rocinante, or Corazón, from Eiichiro Oda's One Piece - I follow back and pester your inbox from @bothfeetinthegrave. I'm more chatty than I should be for someone afraid of people, please feel free to say hello.

MUN: Rabbit STATUS: Low Activity ASK BOX: Open ANON: On For Now

❣︎ | Meme Tag | Verses (Mobile Friendly) | Interest Tracker | Promo |

Mobile Rules + Disco under the Cut

Moving moving moving - add me here if you want!

My inbox is done! That means I'm going to go ahead and start moving. So, my plan is to go through my notes and followers list and inquire about threads people would like to keep; however, I am a disaster and this took way longer to get to than I'd planned. It's been a Minute™, so I absolutely understand if you don't want to keep anything ongoing - we can always start something new !

That being said, if you already know you want to hold onto something from here could you please like this post to help me remember to send you a message ?

Much Love

❣ | Unprompted :: Always Accepting |

" It . . . It shouldn't be, at any rate. "

Nothing made him this nervous any more, as he was in this moment. He'd faced what should have been certain death, faced his brother and reprimand for botching a very important mission, not to mention the knowledge that an entire nation was doomed to the future his brother had in store for it. But in spite of all that, he still felt incredibly small and uncomfortably seen under the piercing gaze of Trafalgar Law: the boy - now young man - he'd attempted to die for all those years ago. The former Corazón fidgeted as he leaned heavy on his crutch; his hands itched for a cigarette, years' worth of words he wanted to say threatening to sign their way out of his fingers since his own voice sounded so strange to his ear. None of them felt like enough.

" I uh . . . I know you don't have any reason to believe me, and that's okay. Hello, Law - it's been a long time. "

He knew this might not go well - in fact, even while travelling around to find Law, Rocinante had worked under the assumption that the kid might not recognise him or even want to see him at all. And wouldn't that be fair ? Hadn't it been cruel of him to disappear for so long, to leave him all alone after promising he would stay ? It was an easy path to re-tread over, easy to let the grief and the guilt swallow him up and leave him adrift. An explanation was likely in order, but it was also possible that the other wouldn't want to hear it. He'd been through a lot, and dredging all this up would maybe do more harm than good to the wounded little boy that had spent years building himself back up. Scratching anxiously at the back of his head with his free hand, he elected to explain a little anyway - even if just to soothe the ache in his own heart.

" It took me a long time to wake up, and to uh . . . to get all my memories back, from that day. By the time I was with it enough to ask everyone told me there was no sign of you, and that you were probably gone. But when I saw your poster I - "

His voice faltered a little and he turned, shaking some of the tension out of his shoulders as he gestured vaguely to his travelling gear, his scrappy little boat.

" I'm sorry. I mean it when I say I really didn't want to have to leave you. But, I don't regret it because you got to grow up ! I'm so, so glad you got to be free. "

The rational part of his brain warned him to stop, that he was setting himself up for what could very well be a painful interaction. So he stopped thinking, stopped worrying, and did the only other thing he could think of to prove he was who he claimed to be: he shrugged and lifted a heavy hand to rub at his eye to remove the concealer there, letting the rays of the blue starburst tattoo bloom over the curve of his eye socket. He couldn't paint the grin on in a hurry, but he still smiled: bright enough that his eyes crinkled with it, and broad enough to show his missing tooth - missing for years, never replaced. He held up a peace sign, expression fond and open in a way he hoped Law would remember.

" I love you ! "

Soo cool... I am crying thinking how cool you are

No you are! Thanks for sticking with me, and for being patient when I send you too many things about the MVB ( - Most Valuable Bird - ).

((Bonus points if Law is thrown into the mix 😂))

❣ | Memes :: This One | Prompts for Ordinary things that feel Intimate

When you worked on a ship, voyages didn't drag because there was always some task to do, some maintenance that filled the free space. But when you were simply a passenger, and an injured passenger at that, it was difficult to know what to do with the time. This was new to him, being idle while others were working - stationary in this cabin and its attached office with his leg propped up, locked in a sturdy cast. They'd been at sea for over a week, their destination still at least a day or two away. Leigh, to his credit, kept him company as best as he could, with as many people as he had to manage now. When he could, he came back with a newspaper and - if he could manage it - a book for Law. He answered with a soft word of thanks when the other squeezed his shoulder, settling into the air of quiet contentment as the man crossed to the nearby desk to keep working. It reminded him a bit of when they spent time together between courses as cadets; thinking about where they'd both ended up made his head spin a little. As much as he liked to tease his friend , he really did make sense in this role. Strong, determined, capable.

Rocinante had broken many a bone in his relatively short life, but after a few weeks awake - finally awake - he was becoming acutely aware of what ' probably over a year to heal ' meant with a shattered femur. He was lucky: lucky that he hadn't lost the leg, lucky that he was alive at all . . . but it would be a lie to say that he didn't grow a little tired of being cooped up indoors from time to time, even if he tended to appreciate the quiet of his most present company. And if he felt bored, he had to assume Law did too. The kid's life had been fairly busy over the last several months during their journey to cure his illness, filled with travel and endless problems to solve. Now he was in one place, their goal achieved and safety found - at least for the moment. Was he bored, or did he appreciate the stability and routine so absent in the recent years of his life ? Rust coloured eyes drifted down to where the kid rested, snuggled against his side; his own pale eyes drifted idly between his current book and the ever-growing series of drawings he was scrawling across Cora's cast. Rocinante grinned, but dared not say anything lest he accidentally snap him out of this normal kid behaviour.

❣ | Memes :: This One | Send 'You Came' for my muse to help yours out of a Bad Situation

Or, the reverse

His surroundings, previously going dark, renewed with an incredible over-clarity with the reintroduction of air to his lungs. Even now that he was out of it the deathly cold hands of the sea were unwilling to relinquish their grip, but even through the fog that came with their grasp he would recognise the person looking down at him anywhere - the person whose legs he was probably currently resting on. Someone he'd called out to when hit, as the world shifted around him and the deck of the ship under his feet was quickly replaced by the impact of his back against the ocean's surface. Painful, like hitting the ground at speed, but the impact would be the smallest worry for someone like him.

This wasn't the first time he'd ended up in the water, not even the first time he'd ended up in the water as a devil fruit eater, but it never got any less gut-wrenchingly terrifying, or exhausting. The other looked a little frightened as well, hand pressed over his heart - to feel for a heartbeat maybe? Despite the slowly diffusing alarm of those around him and the chill that now threatened to crawl into his bones, he smiled. " Am I glad to see you. Guess I tripped, " His voice was gravel as he rested an uncoordinated hand over Leigh's, still resting on his chest over his heart; seemingly unbothered by being held at least for the moment, while he waited for the sensation to return to his extremities, for the ability to move them on his own. Pale eyebrows knit together for just a moment, brain catching up with the situation.

" How'd you get me back out ? You can't swim either. "

That could have been really bad, if they had both fallen in. Still hazy eyes cleared at that sudden realisation. Somewhere back on shore, there was a small boy that would be furious if he found out he'd been so careless.

❣ | Memes :: This One | Send 'You Came' for my muse to help yours out of a Bad Situation

In most circumstances, a gangly black-feathered shape looming into your space wouldn't have been a comforting thing. But for members of his brother's crew captured, lost, or otherwise separated from the flock, their resident infiltration and extraction specialist was a sight for sore eyes when things were dire. This sort of thing didn't happen over-often, but when it did, it was his job to get people back before their enemies even noticed his presence. Though the ever-silent Corazón didn't answer, something softened in his expression just a little - something around the eyes. Ice thawed just a little by the quiet relief in her words. The skin on his hands was pale, a sharp contrast as he held a finger over the painted grin on his lips. If they were going to get out of here, they had to stay absolutely quiet.

Niamh was small, so it wouldn't take much to just pick her up and move her rather than help her limp along. It was dim-to-dark in this room anyway, so it was difficult to tell just how injured she was. Frowning, he waved a little to get her attention, then gestured for her to hold onto him. As quietly as he'd appeared, he just as silently drew himself back up to his feet to leave - now with a friend in his arm. He wobbled once, ever-clumsy and now unsteady with an altered centre of balance; Rocinante did not fall though, not while carrying another person. Several tense moments ticked by as he waited for his little stumble to be heard.

. . . Nothing; good.

❣ | Memes :: This One | Send 'You Came' for my muse to help yours out of a Bad Situation

It had taken weeks of travel for them to start getting along and working together, a fragile sort of truce that was still being figured out. Working together better meant less running away, insults a little less personal and sharply worded, but the surprise in those rasped words pierced his heart, razor-sharp. The marine fell to his knees beside his companion, measuring his breath through a wave of panic that welled up from somewhere deep and unexpected. Something must have shaken loose at some point, some sort of growing fondness made visible suddenly, when that tiny voice calling out for him had stopped him dead in his tracks mid-search for the missing boy. He looked so small. Law was small, small and frail even for his age especially now that his sickness was really starting to catch up with him. They could talk about what had happened while they were briefly separated after this last hospital later, right now he needed to take him somewhere safe and warm to recover.

" Of course I did. "

He did his best to keep as much fear out of his voice as he picked him up, carefully gathering him into his arms even though he knew he shouldn't. Law would be furious actually, depending on the specifics his condition - had he been more with it, in more of a position to get mad or protest, he probably would have griped at him about moving someone with a potential head or back injury. But he cradled the kid close to his heart anyway, briefly nuzzling his face into his scruffy hair before pulling himself back onto his feet. His heart wanted him to pause right here and keep talking to the kid, but his brain knew it would be best to keep going. He had to, because he was all Law had. Both of them were all the other had. He had to walk extra careful, for he absolutely would not stumble or drop the boy.

❣ | Memes :: This One | Scars ( always doing these )

" How'd I get so many ? "

The question might have bothered him years prior, might have picked at something sensitive still if it were addressed to a certain few scars in particular, but he could talk about them in a general sense now. It hurt less, something sharp now dull and ridged over - a bit like a scar, he supposed. The large man paused and hummed a little as he thought about it, only half way through his task of pulling laundry from the water to carefully pin up to dry. The Strawhat Captain was helping, mostly by keeping him company whilst he got the washing done. Which was fine; meditative tasks like this settled him, reminded him a little of early in his navy training, when he had thrived on routine and feeling like he was being helpful. Dropping a shirt back into the soapy water, he held out his hands so the other could look at them, at the scars that travelled the rest of the way up his forearms - visible with the sleeves of his shirt rolled to the elbows.

" Probably the same way you got a lot of yours, " Luffy had a bunch of scars - on his hands, on his face. Many did, when they lived at sea and had to fight for their safety and food and everything else about their existence. Working hand, the hands of a fighter.

❣ | Memes :: This One | Are you Okay, Corazón?

A thing about trauma that tended to test Rocinante's patience was its inconsistent levels of predictability. Sometimes, the dreams and their occurrence could be expected - leading up to death anniversaries, that sort of thing, he could simply choose not to sleep in an effort to stave them off. Not ideal, but sometimes in lieu of actual strategy force of will would do. The others tended to give him a wide berth around these times, when the already grim, silent man proved to be extra short-tempered and honestly he was better off for it. But other times these vivid rehashes of memories, horrible amalgamations of prior events and imagined ones, reared their ugly head without warning or permission - threatening to pull a startled cry from him as he clawed his way out of the grip of sleep, stifled down to a gasp, a sob that bounced off the cracked ceiling of his room in brother's silly base of operations. Though he was glad to be away from the dream, from those shadows so tall that chased and caught him, it would be a lie to say he was glad to wake up here.

Cold sweat, racing heart: time for a very early cigarette then.

He stumbled only once on his way down the hall when he clipped a side table, shouldering his way out onto the nearest moon-washed balcony. Fresh air helped - the colder the better, more grounding. Blunt fingernails picked at the paint of the railing, diffusing lingering agitation as he took a long drag, trying not to look like a drowning man finally brought up for air. Like he needed it. Pathetic. The flecks of moonlight on the distant sea blended together and doubled as his eyes began to burn, not from the smoke but from the tears he was doing his best to stifle.