ᶜᵒᵒˡ ʷᵒʳˡᵈ; ᶜʳᵘᵉˡ ᵗʰᶤᶰᵍˢ

{ UNDER HEAVY CONSTRUCTION }

[narcolepticflame-blog]

Ardyn: Come on, let's hug it out!

Noctis: I would rather fall in love with a vegan.

[gigglincactus]

I’ll stop giffing this scene when I’m dead

[narcolepticflame-blog]

ILY

[rottenwork-a]

@narcolepticflame  

            { ♤ } • ;;  ˢᵒᵐᵉᵗᶤᵐᵉˢ˒ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇˡᵒᵒᵈ ʳᵘˢʰᵉˢ ᵗᵒ ᵐʸ ʰᵉᵃᵈ˒ ᵃᶰᵈ ᴵ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ˡᶤᵏᵉ ᶤᶠ ᴵ ʳᵘᶰˑˑˑ

                                                                Ｃｈｉｌｄ Ａｃｅ

{ What was THAT? }

He motions for her to continue ( impatiently, at that, ) flicking his cadaverous wrist, a small ‘crack’ contributing toward the likelihood of arthritis ( in his later, future YEARS— that’s if he GETS THAT FAR, he notes morbidly, mentally with a small grimace. ) Albeit, before the enigma catches ON ( and before he entirely drops his guard, ) Ace’s slack, insufficient posture to retaliate inflates once more— PUFFING his chest out, small, noodle-like arms crossed angrily against his sturdy frame. He refrains the childish urge to STOMP; in a way, she reminds him of Luffy.

                                                   They were both crybabies, weaklings ALIKE.

The more she scrapes for the fraying edges of comfort and safety, theANGRIER he gets— what an UTTER eyesore.                                                                                  

❛ — c'mon, just spit it OUT already. ❜  

He was about to send her FLYING.

                                                                      ˑˑ ᶤ'ˡˡ ˡᵒˢᵉ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵗʰᶤᶰᵍ ᶤᵐᵖᵒʳᵗᵃᶰᵗˑ • ;; { ♤ }

{ SPIT it OUT? }

          The only one spitting anything was the hostile stranger in front of her, spitting fury and venom and fire, noxious enough to make her wince. In no way was Shou prepared for this, and unable to match up, she remains staring mutely straight at him; breathing HARD, bordering on hyperventilation as her heart hammers– BANG BANG BANG– against her ribcage. 

A PHENOMENON starts to occur. Here come the tears, the water-works, the salty tell-tale signs of COWARDICE prickling up and dampening her vision. It blurs– and the boy becomes a blob of colour, a carnival of hues– and the first dribble of disgusting, slimy mucus appears, accompanied with the sound of a helpless whimper.

                       “…”

                                           She shrinks back PITIFULLY, overwhelmed and unable to retaliate.

[narcolepticflame-blog]

                 { ♤ } • ;;  ˢᵒᵐᵉᵗᶤᵐᵉˢ˒ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇˡᵒᵒᵈ ʳᵘˢʰᵉˢ ᵗᵒ ᵐʸ ʰᵉᵃᵈ˒ ᵃᶰᵈ ᴵ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ˡᶤᵏᵉ ᶤᶠ ᴵ ʳᵘᶰˑˑˑ                                                                      Ｃｈｉｌｄ Ａｃｅ

Mouth agape— he goes to YELL, empty his lungs of oxygen, prepared to lecture her ( because honestly, what an ANNOYING girl— who gave her access, directions to their supposed SECRET tree house? It baffled Ace, and he wasn't even the SLIGHTEST bit guilty for making her CRY— okay, perhaps he was, ) as nothing but a silent exchange occurs between the two children. Nothing, ZILCH. The monster boy grows quiet.

{ ' Whenever you get angry, just BREATHE. Oxygen is free, you know? ' }

What an irritating reminder— albeit, no matter how childish it sounds, he obeys. He listens, for once, before he bubbles over and wreaks havoc. The boy inhales deeply through his flared nostrils, filling his chest with a SECOND CHANCE, in order to 'gird up one's loins' ( he'd taken the phrase from Sabo, ) visibly relaxing.

                            ❛ You're such a baby. ❜

As she crumples, like a discarded origami swan, he follows suit. Ace settles upon the dusty, oak flooring— crossing his legs, hugging his pipe against his chest. His expression, however, refuses to transition by virtue of his mood— nonetheless, he drops the extra guard, and instead of pinning her by verbal threats, he instead keeps her in place by his dagger-like gaze.

                                              She seemed HARMLESS.     

❛  ...oi. Who were you calling for, just before? Lookin' for someone? ❜ 

                                                                   ˑˑ ᶤ'ˡˡ ˡᵒˢᵉ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵗʰᶤᶰᵍ ᶤᵐᵖᵒʳᵗᵃᶰᵗˑ • ;; { ♤ }

[rottenwork-a]

          Trembling slightly at the horrors that may potentially be waiting inside, Shou mustered up whatever little courage was available in her teeny tiny seven-year-old body, and took a shaky step forward: then another, and another, and another until she was carefully creeping inside the tree house, where she was praying she would find Luffy. “H-hello…? Is anyone in here?” She stuttered, unnerved by how barren the place seemed to be. This just didn’t feel right. Why did she have such a bad feeling about this…? “…Lu–”

           And just when she was about to call out the name of her friend, she threaded on a loose floor board beneath her feet, and shrieks, as though the moaning of the wood was the scariest thing in the world. “-GAAAH!! HELP!” 

[narcolepticflame-blog]

               { ♤ } • ;;  ˢᵒᵐᵉᵗᶤᵐᵉˢ˒ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇˡᵒᵒᵈ ʳᵘˢʰᵉˢ ᵗᵒ ᵐʸ ʰᵉᵃᵈ˒ ᵃᶰᵈ ᴵ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ˡᶤᵏᵉ ᶤᶠ ᴵ ʳᵘᶰˑˑˑ

                                                                   Ｃｈｉｌｄ Ａｃｅ

Anger was no STRANGER to Ace— in fact, he had carved an identity from the ruins of his irregular, angry temperament. He was the epitome of a MONSTER, what the average child FEARED; robust for a ten year old, hands designed to carve weapons, in which were used for MURDER— fingers created by the psychotic GODS to creep around the necks of those unfortunate enough to dismay his existence ( stupid, and pathetic really. )

                        So it was no surprise to find the boy wearing an expression SHARP enough to cut the weak DEEP ( upon her clumsy arrival )— his features, crowded on a small, freckled visage, scrunched in OUTRIGHT rejection; he was already REJECTING the foreign presence without understanding the predicament. Eyebrows, slant in anger, a mouth puckered ( as if he’d eaten something sour, ) and the CLAW of his hand wrapped tight around his trusty pipe.

He waits, and WAITS— giving his anger time to diffuse, spread across the pallet of his entire being before opening his mouth, a soft HUFF escaping the depths of his lungs ( drip, drip, DRIPPING with trepidation. )

❛ You have ten seconds to explain yourself before I beat the livin’ HELL out of you. ❜ 

                                                                            ˑˑˑ ᶤ'ˡˡ ˡᵒˢᵉ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵗʰᶤᶰᵍ ᶤᵐᵖᵒʳᵗᵃᶰᵗˑ • ;; { ♤ }

[rottenwork-a]

Please don’t beat the living hell out of the dinky child, holy fucking shit.

Senses heightened with fear; Shou snapped her head towards the source of the angry voice, belonging to an even angrier face– vision swimming, and blood freezing as petrified gold pupils met hard, unforgiving optics filled entirely to the brim with seething, pending wrath. Was this a dream? Her worst nightmare had materialized right before her: the faceless monster that dwelled under beds, the snarling beast that hungered for a snack, a fierce boy– never mind that he was only a couple years older than her in logic– withering her with a stare and armed with a weapon, ready to inflict harm. 

                                                       {She had foolishly trespassed into his lair.} 

“–I’m SORRY, please don’t hurt me–!” Her words, impressive that there were any at all, finally emerged with a squeak as she backed up, her knees transforming into jello and utterly betraying her as she collapsed to the floor with all the grace of a fumbling, new-born fawn. “I was just… I was just…”   

[narcolepticflame-blog]

               { ♤ } • ;;  ˢᵒᵐᵉᵗᶤᵐᵉˢ˒ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇˡᵒᵒᵈ ʳᵘˢʰᵉˢ ᵗᵒ ᵐʸ ʰᵉᵃᵈ˒ ᵃᶰᵈ ᴵ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ˡᶤᵏᵉ ᶤᶠ ᴵ ʳᵘᶰˑˑˑ

                                                                   Ｃｈｉｌｄ Ａｃｅ

{ What was THAT? }

He motions for her to continue ( impatiently, at that, ) flicking his cadaverous wrist, a small 'crack' contributing toward the likelihood of arthritis ( in his later, future YEARS— that's if he GETS THAT FAR, he notes morbidly, mentally with a small grimace. ) Albeit, before the enigma catches ON ( and before he entirely drops his guard, ) Ace's slack, insufficient posture to retaliate inflates once more— PUFFING his chest out, small, noodle-like arms crossed angrily against his sturdy frame. He refrains the childish urge to STOMP; in a way, she reminds him of Luffy.

                                                    They were both crybabies, weaklings ALIKE.

The more she scrapes for the fraying edges of comfort and safety, the ANGRIER he gets— what an UTTER eyesore.                                                                                 

❛ — c'mon, just spit it OUT already. ❜ 

He was about to send her FLYING.

                                                                       ˑˑ ᶤ'ˡˡ ˡᵒˢᵉ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵗʰᶤᶰᵍ ᶤᵐᵖᵒʳᵗᵃᶰᵗˑ • ;; { ♤ }

[rottenwork-a]

          Trembling slightly at the horrors that may potentially be waiting inside, Shou mustered up whatever little courage was available in her teeny tiny seven-year-old body, and took a shaky step forward: then another, and another, and another until she was carefully creeping inside the tree house, where she was praying she would find Luffy. “H-hello…? Is anyone in here?” She stuttered, unnerved by how barren the place seemed to be. This just didn’t feel right. Why did she have such a bad feeling about this…? “…Lu–”

           And just when she was about to call out the name of her friend, she threaded on a loose floor board beneath her feet, and shrieks, as though the moaning of the wood was the scariest thing in the world. “-GAAAH!! HELP!” 

[narcolepticflame-blog]

               { ♤ } • ;;  ˢᵒᵐᵉᵗᶤᵐᵉˢ˒ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇˡᵒᵒᵈ ʳᵘˢʰᵉˢ ᵗᵒ ᵐʸ ʰᵉᵃᵈ˒ ᵃᶰᵈ ᴵ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ˡᶤᵏᵉ ᶤᶠ ᴵ ʳᵘᶰˑˑˑ

                                                                   Ｃｈｉｌｄ Ａｃｅ

Anger was no STRANGER to Ace— in fact, he had carved an identity from the ruins of his irregular, angry temperament. He was the epitome of a MONSTER, what the average child FEARED; robust for a ten year old, hands designed to carve weapons, in which were used for MURDER— fingers created by the psychotic GODS to creep around the necks of those unfortunate enough to dismay his existence ( stupid, and pathetic really. )

                        So it was no surprise to find the boy wearing an expression SHARP enough to cut the weak DEEP ( upon her clumsy arrival )— his features, crowded on a small, freckled visage, scrunched in OUTRIGHT rejection; he was already REJECTING the foreign presence without understanding the predicament. Eyebrows, slant in anger, a mouth puckered ( as if he'd eaten something sour, ) and the CLAW of his hand wrapped tight around his trusty pipe.

He waits, and WAITS— giving his anger time to diffuse, spread across the pallet of his entire being before opening his mouth, a soft HUFF escaping the depths of his lungs ( drip, drip, DRIPPING with trepidation. )

❛ You have ten seconds to explain yourself before I beat the livin' HELL out of you. ❜ 

                                                                            ˑˑˑ ᶤ'ˡˡ ˡᵒˢᵉ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵗʰᶤᶰᵍ ᶤᵐᵖᵒʳᵗᵃᶰᵗˑ • ;; { ♤ }

[sabolution]

@narcolepticflame

╟ 🎩 ╢     A single ‘dab’ to silence his brother so they can be done with it and never speak of the topic again.

     He was under the impression it was a type of fish.

[narcolepticflame-blog]

Does the Hotline Bling because Drake is his inspiration.

[xuan-tw]

SHHH, BE QUIET ACE! LU IS SLEEPING!

[narcolepticflame-blog]

[ ♡♡♡ ]

[yonkou]

[sableu]

- Why do you want to become my friend that much?

- Because there’s nobody else!  Being lonely is more painful than getting hurt!

[sableu]

Ace filled me in on everything, I’ve come to realize.

“You’re Sabo!” he said.  “You’re Luffy’s brother!”

[narcolepticflame-blog]

[ beautiful, man ]

[sabolution]

[ HUG THING ;; THANK ]

Send me 👐 to suddenly cuddle my muse.  @narcolepticflame

╟ 🎩 ╢     The moment Sabo felt Ace’s arms around his torso, several theories for why in the world it was happening flashed through his mind. Potential reason number one: He had just wronged his brother in some way and this was an unspoken apology for his actions. Reason number two: He was being chased by the authorities and was using the cliche ‘stand very close to someone else and hope they don’t notice’ method to draw attention away from himself. Reason number three: He was using the revolutionary’s coat as an over-sized hand wipe or was trying to pin a ‘kick me’ sign to his back. Reason number four: He purely, innocuously wanted affection and nothing more.

    Based on the tranquility of the surrounding area, the second excuse seemed improbable, and as he couldn’t feel anything being stuck or rubbed on to his back, excuse three was also out. Sabo decided to take his chances and risk Ace’s slight offense, and went with his original assumption.

    ❝Ace… What did you do?❞

[narcolepticflame-blog]

                   Ｓｏｌｉｓ Ｏｃｃａｓｕｍ { ♤ } • ;; ˢᵗᵃʳᵗ ˡᶤᵛᶤᶰᵍ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗ ᵈʸᶤᶰᵍ..

                                                                           ’ What did you do? ’

Ace could have mentioned a variety of things; how he had oh-so WRONGED the vendor ( caught thieving, ) just down the road, paved in tarmac, in which led him to being blacklisted. He could have said something pertaining to the common ( so-called ) witch— an old woman he passes by ( hesitantly, at that ) on a daily basis, following a path toward the graveyard, lined with wilting sunflowers as she picks ripe apples, leering at him from afar— ‘I’m sure she put a HEX on me, Sabo.’

                          That’s what he COULD have said, to conceal the truth; bitter tongue resting in that vinegar mouth of his— he COULD have, but he didn’t, and that’s where he ( unintentionally, at that ) plants a seed of CURIOSITY and HORROR in Sabo’s head. It was unlike him to avoid facing his brother’s enquiry with a witty JEST— it was unlike Ace to fall silent, especially considering their unorthodox predicament, with his arms around him, desperate, DYING to be noticed, acknowledged— LOVED.

The young man only TIGHTENS his grip, his knuckle gliding over the ridges of the revolutionary’s spine— ACTIONS speaking LOUDER than words alone.

“I’m not a ROBOT. I have feelings too, y'know? Can’t I HUG my own brother without bein’ accused of havin’ done somethin’ wrong?”

Truth be told, he was S I C K to the bone.

                          His hands, coat in BLOOD— soaked.

                       drip, drip ( DRIPPING, ) and not by virtue of sin and impurity, but sickness.

                               Die, dying, dead.

—because the next time he coughs, Sabo won’t have to patronise him, scold him for not COVERING HIS MOUTH; for it WILL be covered, for all the wrong reasons— blood on his HANDS, blood on his PANTS. He won’t see him subtly wipe it off.

After all, red doesn’t go WELL, prominent, against black.

[wordsnquotes]

I am a lover without a lover. I am lovely and lonely and I belong deeply to myself.

Warsan Shire (via wordsnquotes)

[anotherrpmemeblog]

Say “We need to talk” ...

and I’ll generate a starter for what our muses have to have a serious talk about and/or confess:

(1-40, mixture of angst, fluff and drama)

Continua a leggere

[narcolepticflame-blog]

[ GET ME KNEE-DEEP IS ANGST ]

[yamineftis]

Steampunk!Sabo from OPDB /I finally got him!! >n<)9/

oh gosh how long has it been since the last time I drew my son?? I’ve missed this ;;

gotta love this outfit! small gift I promised for @hsuyu ♥

[narcolepticflame-blog]

[ cute af as per ]

[greatpowcra]

          ‘   SABO, ACE ! you guys got really tall !   ’

@saboners, @narcolepticflame

[narcolepticflame-blog]

"...tch— What the hell HAPPENED? You look like a total DORK."

[narcolepticflame-blog]

/sneezes on

It takes him a WHILE to process the disgusting sensation of something foreign upon his epidermis, and it doesn’t take him LONG, then after, to realise Luffy had sneezed on him.

      ‘ gross brat, ‘

Ace’s freckled complexion contorts like origami, like he had ATE something sour— so digusted by his little brother’s singular action ( and what a HYPOCRITE he was to develop an angry temperament by virtue of Luffy’s doings. )

A hand briefly ascends, the heel of his palm hovering over his bare shoulder.“…tch— I can’t WIN with you, can I? Did you catch a cold or somethin’?”

[narcolepticflame-blog]

[ OOC: haha,, i have so many replies to get to, yet here i am, drawing Sabo fml ;; SORRY FOR KEEPING YOU ALL WAITING.