#codecorazon

DIFFERENT KINDS OF KISSES

@codecorazon

There was something about adrenaline that sent Asteria's nervous system into a frenzy, every inch of her skin and every ounce of her muscles feeling as though they were on fire and frozen simultaneously.

It began so abruptly and had lasted an exorbitant amount of time that Asteria couldn't even recall what had triggered the feeling in the first place.

Her thoughts were so far and away that Asteria didn't even have the proper time to register Rosinante's approach until the subsequent short circuiting of her brain in response to-

A kiss???

It was surely one way to bring Asteria back to reality, shocking her system as if you were turning something off and on again. IT only lasted briefly enough to surprise her enough and Asteria's jaw dropped a bit when he pulled away.

         ✎...ㅤ @codecorazon  asked | Unprompted  ›› Always Accepting

the night sky overhead a tapestry of stars shimmering above the vast, inky sea. His eyes, usually so sharp and calculating, softened as he gazed at the tall looming figure of the newest member of his crew. The steady rhythm of the waves crashing against the wall of the polar tang was a comforting backdrop, a stark contrast to the tumultuous thoughts swirling within his mind. Law's form was a striking silhouette against the moonlight. He was tall and lean, his body honed by years of relentless training and harsh battles. His hat, a fluffy white cap with black spots, sat atop his mop of unruly , mused hair, casting a shadow over his intense golden eyes. He wore a long black coat with a distinctive fur-lined hood, the Heart Pirates’ jolly roger emblazoned on the back. His hands, marked with tattoos that read "DEATH" across his knuckles, were tucked into his pockets as he stood, a picture of stoic contemplation. until he heard the words fall from the blond's lips. 

 Law's breath hitched, his throat tightening. He had spent years striving to live up to the legacy of the man who had given everything for him. To hear these words, to feel Corazón’s approval, was almost overwhelming.  His usually steady hands trembled as he pulled them from his pockets, clenching them into fists at his sides.The emotions he had kept buried for so long surged to the surface, raw and unfiltered.

   Golden eyes ease open, the boy doing his best to keep his breathing measured. He can’t show any sign he’s awake yet. Not until he knows his kidnapper is sound asleep. The clumsy oaf has started to grow more comfortable around Law and that’ll work in the boy’s favour. The chill that cuts through him tells Law that the fire has died down. That means he’s at least stopped tending the fire. He peers out from the blankets, watching the shadows as he waits for his eyes to adjust to the pale moon light.

   Soon enough Law sees the curled up form of Corazon. The man determined to cure him, to drag him daily through more of the same soul crushing trauma. Not anymore. Trafalgar Law will have nothing to do with this. He’d rather die alone in this forest than suffer the humiliation of another doctor refusing to even look at him.

   Slowly Law slips out of the blankets piled on his small body. When Cora shifts in his sleep, the boy freezes. Watching, waiting. Tension all through his body. This isn’t the first time he’s snuck away from a sleeping adult. The last time was in a war zone and involved breaking a thumb to get out of the hand cuffs. This time should be easier than that and shouldn’t involve him stabbing someone until the guy no longer moves. Still, Law does have a knife on him. Stole it from a tough looking moron a couple towns ago. Been keeping it hidden.

    He gently places the blankets back into place, bunching them up as if a body still lays curled up inside. Then Law moves on silent feet away from the small camp. He melts into the dark forest, slipping away in the night with a smirk on his lips and a raised middle finger.

𝐉𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐀𝐇 𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒

@codecorazon

There was a distinct look of shock that came across Asteria's face at his words, as if she hadn't expected to hear anything like that coming from him.

"I don't...endure people. If I do not find a point in being around someone then I do not waste my time with them." She admitted bluntly as she accidentally snapped the stem of the flower she had been fiddling with prior.

❝ you're gonna be okay. eventually. but first you gotta not be okay for a while. it's gotta suck so you can actually recognize when you're alright again. ❞asked by @codecorazon

Bell-mere sighed softly, resting in the medical bed. She was still in recovery from the events of Oykot, the two little girls she had rescued were currently resting next to her. "You're not supposed ta be the wise one here." She laughed, coughing a moment later when her stitched pulled harshly.

Rustling and the sound of scribbling on paper made him lift his gaze from the history book in hands. A few mere silent second were needed for curiosity to be sated and the book closed—marked with a bookmark for further reading. The question posed wasn't as surprising by itself as much as the chosen MOMENT of its musing or WHOSE lips it came from. He assumed Rosinante's commentary upon Doflamingo's thoughts stated over a family dinner were delayed only due to the SPEED at which the conversation kept going. Unless his younger brother wished to be more open with him, and had decided to open the discussion in private.

Doflamingo looked him over, the face and makeup, the EYES which were so similar yet different to his own. Sometimes they seemed as equally COLD as his, sometimes they seemed as if Rosinante's were even COLDER. A trick of the mind, surely. A caught glance which wasn't ACTUALLY directed at him.

A chuckle filled the space, melodic and low. Someone might even mistake it for an amused one, while it was anything but. He was hoping his brother would UNDERSTAND. He hoped his flesh and blood, having experienced the world on his own for YEARS, having gone through the same fall as Doflamingo had, would KNOW the answer. A part of him hoped they were the SAME.

Perhaps there exist wishes so profound that even godhood is unable to bring them to reality.

A small frown showed as she heard him speak, "I make it a practice not to stab people in the back or betray them unless they bring it upon themselves. If I can say anything, that's how my father raised me." Her answer was quiet as if contemplating things, "It's a bit unconventional in my line of work, but, all pirates and smuggler's have their own honor."