I, MISFORTUNE.

[iinfortunii]

MEDICINE,  LAW,  BUSINESS,  ENGINEERING, THESE ARE ALL NOBLE PURSUITS AND NECESSARY TO SUSTAIN LIFE.

BUT POETRY,  BEAUTY,  ROMANCE,  LOVE  —THESE ARE WHAT WE STAY ALIVE FOR.

indie masked deuce, of eiichirou oda’s one piece (novel a). heavily headcanon based and canon divergent. selective. mutuals only. au, crossovers, ocs and multimuse friendly. multiverse. low activity.

written by rubi since july 2017, revamped september 2019. 21+ yo

LINKS.   RULES: (about,  code of conduct,  mun & credits). VERSES: (one piece,  modern,  fantasy,  crossovers,  others). MASKED DEUCE.    BONDS.    NAVIGATION.    

[iinfortunii]

hiatus notice.

/ hey everyone, hope you’ve all been well <3

i don’t really intend on making this a long post, i’m just coming by to announce i’m putting deu’s blog on a break (a semi-hiatus perhaps? i might still reblog stuff to stop the blog from dying) and spend my time on my other blog for the time being. i’ve gone back to having a hard time talking to others, rp-wise, and i’d like to fix that. hopefully you’ll understand  <3

[iinfortunii]

/ I’d like to clarify, regarding my practice on reblog karma, that I only ask you reblog a post from its source if it’s a meme and have no intention in sending something yourself, anything else (aesthetics, musings, imagery, dash games, etc) you’re free to reblog/steal it from me, I won’t mind!! <3

[iinfortunii]

where does your anger lurk ?

in your fists.

holes in the drywall, no recollection of how it got there. coming down from a haze of red... there's blood on your palm, dripping from bruised knuckles. blinding rage. pulse quickens, mind goes furiously blank.

[iinfortunii]

Which saccharine pet name are you?

darling.

elegant, old-fashioned, the one they write love letters to. possibly a vampire, and not only romantic but Romantic and baroque.

[deadwatered]

“love is not patient.

I listen to her speak about the tragedies of her heart,

I hear her talk about her mother who has light switch emotions,

how she grew up too fast,

and the struggles of the money in her pocket.

she tells me about her father,

I listen over the phone, on dates

and I’m always there, always waiting,

quietly,

for her to open up more,

I take in as much as she’ll tell me.

I don’t rush or force her despite me

wanting to cradle her to sleep.

I tip toe, trying to ease her addictions,

I’m silent but she’s a contradiction,

wants me to speak

but when I do she doesn’t understand me.

she tells me she loves me

and then three days later she leaves,

proving her mother and her aren’t that much different after all.

if love were kind,

I would’ve gotten a message,

one that said goodbye.

she reminds me of him and I’m tempted to lie

and say I don’t hate her,

but I do, I do,

and the scarring of the cavity in my chest

triples in size,

because I thought loving her would be different,

that it wouldn’t hurt,

that it would be worth it,

but betrayal seeps out like a bloody wound

since she used me till she no longer needed me

and I tried,

I gave her my heart

and I gave her my time,

but she was never satisfied.”

[iinfortunii]

Hello, ladies and gentlemen, I’m here to provide you with a quick overview of my raccoon, Masked Deuce.

has the color palette of a forest [ at least i think so? ]

called a fashion disaster by several and apparently enjoys being half naked

what the hell did he eat when he was younger he’s tall as hell

loyal. like a dog. but he bites

hahah romance? he’s got a dead girlfriend called Beatrice except that, it’s a lie. he just doesn’t want romance

or so he says

writes. and writes. and writes.

very fancy handwriting by the way

the black sheep despite his colorful appearance

embodiment of misfortune

all animals hate him -some hiss, others leave, a few threaten him -except like three

a jerk simply because it’s fun

but got a really nice, considerate heart

dramatic, extra and edgy

drinks his RESPECT WOMEN JUICE everyday

if he likes you, you’re allowed to run your fingers through his messy mane

he’s got the energy of a child and only needs 30 minutes of naps to recover

doesn’t sleep much, speaking of which. wakes up at the slightest of noises

superstitious as fuck

loves knives and constantly carries around 13 of them

doctor, strategist, crafter, writer, what else do you want in a man? he’s perfect

but got the personality of trash

ugly scars on face -that’s why he wears a mask. his big bro did those

pastel hair color it’s bc of an illness passed on by mom. the rest [his dad, and big brother] have darker blue hair. but don’t tell him that

hates white but dresses in white since it’s the medical outfit. havE I MENTIONED THE CREW HE BELONGS TO IS CALLED WHITEBEARD PIRATES!?!? also his favorite jelly [ aka @jcllyfisn​ <3 ] has a dog called Stephan. and he’S WHITE TOO najsbajfsd

smirks a lot ;)

constantly angry too

roses are aesthetic as fuck

if you save his life he’s gonna be your loyal dog. will die for you

real name is unknown. will rather die than tell you

his dad and older brother are ‘prodigies’. deuce hates them

big appetite

can’t die because the plot (me) says so

that’s it, folks. thank you for coming to my ted talk

[drfaustus]

christopher marlowe wrote plays 400 years ago and they went on to give me massive brain rot

[drfaustus]

literally how was i supposed to read this and be normal about it

[halfsavages-deactivated20200621]

i wholeheartedly believe i deserve a sword. i am true. i am loyal. i despise treacherous men. what else do you need? knight me already

[iinfortunii]

DISSIMULXTE // MARI.

“ me? my darling blue, you know very well that if I had something to say, I’d have said it already. ” when had she ever been restrained with her commentary? she chuckled, waving her hand dismissively, before settling that same hand against her chin, feline grin peeking over manicured nails.

she looks him up, and down, and back again, giving away very little of the… calculations running somewhere in the back of her mind. “ …you know you can rely on me, right dearest? I’m not too humble to acknowledge that I’m a woman of many talents, and I hope if you ever needed them, you wouldn’t hesitate to ask. ”

He knew she was right in her first statement, never shy of voicing out her thoughts regardless of whether they got her in or out of trouble, but he stares regardless, narrowing his eyes; not quite believing her when the grin all but tells him there is more to it. He should have certainly been more discreet. 

And now that she intently looks at him, he can’t help the feeling of apprehension that comes with it, he feels like prey being seized. There’s a look of surprise all over him, red quickly coloring his face once he’s somewhat done processing her offer. So she did have something to say after all, and she’s knowingly taking advantage of his needs. 

“What’s in for you to make such a. . . selfless offer, hmm?” he questions after a moment, not quite sure he wants to entertain the idea, but following along anyways. 

[iinfortunii]

how do you need to be loved?

like lovers watching the sunset.

Calm, focused, tender. you need to be loved in the way teenagers kiss in the rain and giggle behind hands. you need to be loved like a child, taken care of, watched over, focused on. you need to feel the warmth of the sun, you need to feel the love rushing through your veins. you need to be reminded that love is worth it, and it’s beautiful to experience. you need to be loved in a way that is refreshing, again and again.

[iinfortunii]

what form of love do you embody?

love as light.

Love as a luminous force—warm, radiant, and golden; when mary oliver wrote "light of the world hold me” and when charles bukowski said “I look at her and light goes all through me” and when david viscott said “to love and be loved is to feel the sun from both sides” and when e. e. cummings said “lovers alone wear sunlight”.

[iinfortunii]

what kind of herb are you?

Cayenne.

Everyone says that you're so bright, so loud, so much and maybe you are or maybe you're covering up that gaping wound in your chest with fireworks. Or maybe you really are so bright so warm so hot but sometimes you wonder if anything will ever be enough to soothe that aching burning cold fire in your chest. You don't know what it is, can't ever let yourself close enough to that pyre to know if it's anger or fear or loneliness or grief but it's there and if you're good enough, funny enough, bold enough, maybe you can hide it from everyone else. Maybe there's enough of you and enough of the world that you can outrun it forever, your own fire bright enough to put that wound to shame. Bright enough to prove to everyone, anyone, yourself, your mother, your father, your friends, your classmates, the world, that you're enough. You're enough. You're enough.

[iinfortunii]

what type of lonely are you?

loneliness of the lover.

You were born into your loneliness, your family always had better things to love. you're a hopeless romantic, of your friends there's only one or two you haven't fallen for. it's a pattern, you don't want to think about that, though. every person you get close with, your heart locks them into your life. the chains are too tight, or too heavy because they always become overwhelmed and leave. you're too much, a violently bright fire trying to be held by gentle human hands. it's no wonder you burn them. you just aren't meant for love like humans are.

[iinfortunii]

when do you gaze at your soulmate?

when they don't see you.

You love them and you're not sure they know. but that's okay. you're used to loving more than you are loved. you give more than is given. and maybe others don't understand but you don't expect more. you tell yourself the love in your heart is not meant to be savored by anyone other than you. it's more than enough to get to exist at the same time as them. you stand in their shadow and you thank the sun for casting it. they touch your arm but they do not feel the same warmth which lingers on your skin for days. you gaze at them and they might even be looking right back but they are not seeing into your soul the same way you have memorized theirs. it's enough, you tell yourself. it's enough. it's enough. but what if it's not? and what if you're wrong. what if they see you and all this time you have been too scared to ask what they're looking at.

[gladlyrphelper]

quick FYI/PSA

My memes, threads and plots have NO EXPIRY DATE. See a meme you would like to send that’s over 6 months old? doesn’t matter, send it! Found and old thread of ours from 2 years ago that you want to reply to? doesn’t matter, reply! This is a hobby. We should write when we feel like it, not because we must. So let that draft sit in there for a week. Work on those you have the muse for. I do take my time and I don’t mind others taking their time because I know it will come. No stressing. We’re all just having fun.

[hybridsheart]

hi i just want everyone to know that i will never ever EVER be angry with anyone for not replying to my texts even though you’re visibly online and reblogging/posting. i understand that holding a conversation takes a lot more energy and effort than scrolling and posting and that’s 100% okay. take care of yourself first. the whole idea that you HAVE to reply to someone when you’re online is toxic and makes mentally ill people feel as though they are bad friends just because they can’t always reply within minutes.