#victhevortex

Knight!AU

Happy Birthday Trafalgar Law (Belated)

It’s crept upon us! A special day. I’ve decided to make a more personal tribute - because weirdly, this character also had special meaning to me. October is apparently full of birthdays of those that mean something important to me how odd huh?

It was the smell that caught his attention first, and in a manner that wasn’t unlike him, he followed his nose to wherever the tantalizing aroma lead him. From the smell of it there seemed to be an array of ingredients being cooked, however Luffy was most concerned about the multiple ( multiple! ) varieties of meat that he could make out.

His stomach was growling already.

It wasn’t long before he navigated his way out from the forest into a small clearing, and he immediately spotted the pot of food that guided him here. 

tagged by: @reaperoftheunderworld

the dark. fire. open water. deep water. being alone. crowded spaces. confined spaces. change. failure. war. loss of control. powerlessness. prison. blood. drowning. needles. restraints. suffocation. public speaking. natural animals. the supernatural. heights. death. dying. intimacy. rejection. abandonment. loss. the unknown. the future. not being good enough. scary stories. speaking to new people. poverty. loud noises. being touched.

☠ | |  Burnt flesh - the nauseating aroma of copper scorched beyond a liquid state - he had been unable to discern whether the smell had been his own battered form met with the same molten caress as.. ..                       Ace...

                                    A...ce...

         “Aessu...”

Muddled thoughts swam endlessly throughout a normally idealistic psyche, scenes of tragedy replaying in spurts of clarity within his mind’s eye. Bandaged from head to toe, the specter of a Supernova rested a stained, leaking palm on a nearby tree, streaking the wood with lifeblood as he took another staggering step forward.

           This had been a short lapse in the thunderous screams and shouts that had just moments later filled the air in Maiden Island, a despairing beast’s rampage halted for a single moment as he opted to make sense of the nightmares that plagued his perception. Limbs barely felt, there was no pain - though lungs labored heavily, desperately attempting to deliver oxygen to the necessary destinations to keep the young captain alive, draining the last of the tension hormone’s prowess from his system in order to relapse into a more conscious state.

    He had just forced his way into the jungle, past faces he could barely recognize, only seeing more forces, a never-ending sea of justice, all sabotaging his efforts in claiming what was to him, more important than his own dreams.

Christmas Batkiss

❅—“Iｎ ｏｒｄｅｒ ｔｏ ｓｕｒｖｉｖｅ ｔｈｅ ｇｎａｓｈｉｎｇ ｏｆ ｉｔｓ ｔｅｅｔｈ…

               “Iu oɹpǝɹ ʇo snɹʌᴉʌǝ ʇɥǝ ƃuɐsɥᴉuƃ oɟ ᴉʇs ʇǝǝʇɥ…”  

    There was a certain decorum involved with receiving a mistletoe-invoked kiss - and mere decades of undeath did nothing to diminish nine millennia of nobility. The fallen elf aligned his forearm from hip to hip, behind his back. The opposing arm was folded in parallel, across his midsection. The resulting bow was as elegant as it was outdated; although it assuredly lessened Myrundíel’s height for the pirate’s reach. The San’layn was nearly familiar with this pirate, she’d shared her culinary gifts a few times… not to mention his having been harangued for weeks now, by her captain. While this gesture no more assured his intention to accept the offer to join the Heart Pirates than any other, it was a rather more pleasant surprise to have been so charmingly cornered by the spirited young chef. He affected a slight incline to his head, leaving the unmarred side of his jawline to the ceremonial affection.

    The saronite cage that usually denied access to his unnaturally warm, lower jaw was noticeably absent. It rested idly between clawed fingers that belied its weight by the ease with which they grasped the madness-laced metal. And a mouth stained with shadows sparked in faint amusement. What a terrible fondness to have cultivated, for fools who would not recoil from his eldritch nature.

   ❝My regards to the Surgeon of Death, as well. You and yours are faring well enough, yes? I would be thankful for your good fortune, but do bear in mind that I would eagerly claim each of you for my own, if ever you looked upon Death with more favor than life.❞

                                             —ｗｅ ｃｒａｗｌｅｄ ｗｈｏｌｅ,                                                         ‘ǝloɥʍ pǝlʍɐɹɔ ǝʍ

Two truths and a lie.Ask the mun or the muse three questions. Two will be the truth and one will be a lie.

❅— ❝My favorite pastime? You surely jest. There is no place for frivolous or indulgent pursuits within my Lord’s Scourge. My existence is carved of servitude. There can be no idle diversion when my King’s Will need be done.”

❅— ❝...the rate is weighed heavily by the method consumed. If time is short, I will elect to dehydrate the fruit, drinking only the nectar, and offer the remains to my ghouls. They cannot often discern between the texture of young bone and the shell of dried fruit.

   Now, let us engage in some simple Scourge science for a moment, to better answer your question. I can easily claim for my appetite, the lifeblood of a human adult (preferably a Kirin Tor mage) within a minute. There are approximately one and a half gallons of blood in a healthy, adult human male. It requires about twenty-four grapefruit to extract the equivalent of that much grapefruit juice.

  Therefore, it is evident that I could, under haste, consume at least the nectar of  twenty-four grapefruit in one minute."

❅— ❝I would cautiously elect dusk as the preferable hour for bathing, essential hygiene, and other rudimentary preening. The reason being? My plagues are replenished after dusk, and its hours of hunting. After dusk, they can sometimes mutate in unexpected and volatile ways. It is not always wise to stand anywhere near me upon exposure to water, after I have revitalized their efficacy.”