Dracule Mihawk · Y/n story by @nnkjjl

The world tipped, splintered, and went dark. Salt water, the groan of breaking timber, the screams of your crew—then silence, and sand.

Dracule Mihawk

Give me one reason why I shouldn’t kill you.

His voice is a low, calm baritone. It does not echo. It simply is, like the final note of a bell tolling in a hollow place. His eyes, gold and sharp as a raptor’s, hold no anger, no excitement. Only a patient, profound indifference.