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restless minds at night and listening to melancholic songs in the dark while thinking of them. you spent so much time loving while going unloved that you’ve found comfort in it. it’s the only way you know how to, your heart learned to love in the same beat you learned to lie about it and you’ve found a home in the unrequited
Tagged by: @umbrx and @mediicusvitae
Tagging: @kingofdesert @advocateofheaven @surgeon-of-death-law and if anyone else hasn’t been tagged yet, do it ;)
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“Being a big-ass wolf does not make you an Arctic wolf, Nuisance-ya.”
“Besides, I have more standards for hanging out with us. Such as not piercing holes in my sub every Tuesday.”
“I haven’t pierced any holes!!! I can’t make Ikkaku angry like that…!” Yamato huffed. “You just don’t like me because you think I’m stupid! Which I’m not!”
“If I couldn’t deal with people just because they’re stupid, I wouldn’t even talk to Strawhat-ya.”
“The problem is not your stupidity. At least not the only one. You’re a menace in a closed environment. A submarine is a closed environment. I’m not letting my crew die because of that risk. You want to hang out with them? Do it on shore leave. Is that too hard?”
“Y-yeah, it would take quite a theoretical foolish person to drift this far from a healthy habits, wouldn’t it?“ The shy laugh emerging from behind her lips had to be forced from her throat. Of course he had seen right through her brittle attempt at deception.
She just hoped that he hadn’t noticed the bleeding gums hidden behind the forced smile.
"Well — that was a fun thought experiment, wasn’t it, Onii-sama? Ah, I believe I have forgotten something in the operating room, if you would excuse me…” Lamy hastily muttered, legs already in motion to carry her away from him as fast as possible.
“Absolutely foolish, yes. I would expect more sense of an hypothetical person with hypothetical medical knowledge.” The captain’s voice is dry, unamusement oozing out of his every pore in an almost tangible aura of worried, bitchy sibling judgement. He squints through Lamy’s laugh, observing her in seeming impassiviness, though the light, nervous twitch on the corner of his mouth speaks volumes as she quickly attempts a tactical retreat.
As if it could be so easy.
“ROOM.” The translucent blue dome spreads through the ship under his command, bringing the world around under his fingertips. His left hand fetches a tiny marble inside his back pocket, throwing it in the air above before the following command is uttered: “SHAMBLES.”
With trained practice, Law easily catches his little sister as she falls from the air above him, the marble rolling away to the promised safety in her stead a few feet from them. “We need to check your memory, Lamy. Seems like you’re forgetting a bunch of important stuff. Such as things in the operating room... Eating properly..... And thinking I won’t care for what you’re doing.”
“I’ll have the cook make us a nice dinner with lots of citrus, and I’ll be right there with you to watch you eat it. And the next time you pull this near-death crap on me, I’ll force-feed you myself if I have to.”
Shaded eyes looked DOWN on the little creature that spoke to him so freely, speaking of his roof as if it wasn’t his parents who owned the house. It was none of his business, but Doflamingo knew how OWNERSHIP worked, and he was certain the child didn’t own shit. The only thing he had was his own BODY and SOUL, and the latter was debatable, depending on circumstances. On second thought, even the first was debatable, depending on circumstances. Yet, he was just a child, and expecting him to grasp and understand the workings of the universe was way too much at his age. Still, the boy tried to connect, childish curiosity driving the NEED to find answers to his questions, overtaking FEAR of the unknown.
...
Law was not quite sure what to expect from a winged person, angel or not, and the curiosity mingled with unease on the back of his mind as he stepped forward, eager to get a better look despite the poor light of his lantern. The man’s initial casual comment certainly helped to ground him back - at least to assure him this person could understand his language and was willing to talk, rather than pounce and gut him like a wild animal could do. It occurred to him only now that rushing alone to meet an unknown assailant while Lamy was upstairs and Mom and Dad at work was a bad plan.
If it was a robber or something worse, what would he do? Club them with the lantern? He could be such an idiot sometimes.
He was even more dumbfounded as the being spread his limbs in a somewhat mocking challenge - the underlying dare beneath those words immediately lost to the child at the amazing sight of wings. The mere size of them is amazing - large, feathery black wings, inky like a wound to the night sky above, and absolutely fascinating. The fact that they can lift a body that seems to be quite tall and heavy even more so. Perhaps his bones are lighter than they seem, like those of birds? If so, how does that affect his other systems, such as his heart? Does he need to move this way to pump the blood through his circullatory system against the pull of gravity? A hundred questions of such matters immediatelly filled Law’s head as he stared up at that person in unmistakable, openly honest awe. His golden eyes lit up softly under the weak light, filled to the brim with the hungry light of curiosity.
He’d never read about this, even in the most difficult books. Perhaps it could be his very first discovery!
He could not help but take a startled step back as the man suddenly leapt down from the roof to stand in front of him, a massive, feathery shadow cut against the moonlight. Only then could Law realize how tall he actually was, easily dwarfing his ten-year-old height. He was a bit small for his age, alright, but this is ridiculous. Up closer, the winged person has a smile cut like a waning moon, sharp enough to cut yourself on, and the sight of it made the feeling of unease pool in Law’s belly like liquid ice, that most confusing mix of familiarity and instinctual disquietude stronger than ever. He’s never seen anything like him. And yet... It feels as if they share a similar vibration, an overlapping wavelenght, in a way his mind cannot put in words. Beyond that smile, the person’s eyes are covered, hidden away behind sunglasses. Perhaps he is naturally nocturnal, perhaps photosensitive? Maybe the artificial light hurt his eyes. Mindful of that, Law lowered the lantern.
“....Because I was going to read. And there’s no books on the roof.” The little boy replied back, confusion seeping through his voice as he raised an eyebrow at his... Guest, of sorts. Weird questions by a definitely weird person. “And putting your name on a roof is weird. Why would I do that? I don’t usually get random winged people as...” The further words are seemingly ignored by the being as he shifts smoothly on his heels, and then drift into nothingness as those large wings are quite suddenly gone.
“O-oh!!! H-how can you do that?? M-make your wings vanish?? Where do they go???” Law stammered immediately, his voice going up a stunned, almost excited octave as he follows on the creature’s heels into his own house. “Is this like, magic? Can you do magic?? How does it work?? How does it not break laws of Physics?? A-and how do they even work with your body? Aren’t you too heavy to fly? Can magic cancel gravity? What magic can’t do? Are there other people like you out there??” The questions kept flowing out of that little scientist brain, golden eyes following the visitor’s every move in a hopeful attempt to grasp if only a hint of his answers, as the man did not seem interest in indulging them yet. Indeed, the winged person seemed much more interested in looking around the house, as if evaluating the surroundings or his family’s taste in decor. Eventually, deeming it worthy enough, he sat down on Law’s mother’s favorite chair unnanounced. The child could not help but pout slightly at that, the briefest huff escaping through his lips.
He may be an angel, but he’s rude. Maybe angels are all rude and they just don’t tell us about it at Church.
“Ah! Right. The water. I’ll get it.” Law was almost embarassed to have his conjectures interrupted by the reminder of his own offer, as if to highlight his own inexperience as a host. As quickly as possible, the child rushed back to the kitchen, to grab a clean, nice looking glass out of the cabinet and fill it with cold, clean water for his feathery guest. “Here, is it okay? Do you need something else? Flying must take a lot of energy...”
“Do you have a name? My name is Law. And what do you mean by higher being? Is it just because you can fly?”
when you feel like you don’t want to be here anymore
that i still love & care about you. i want you here. i will always want you here. your worth is not determined by the amount of asks or threads or followers you have. your worth can’t even be determined by anyone on this website.
YOU DETERMINE YOUR WORTH. Love yourself today. Love your blog. Love your muses. Chin up, lovely.
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“Let’s say, theoretically, that a theoretical persona has managed to survive on a diet of coffee and ice cream for a month. How long would it take for this person to die of scurvy? Theoretically?”
“........Theoretically. Considering the nonexistant, hypothetical person had healthy levels of vitamin C beforehand..... At best two more months before symptom onset, six weeks to death once it kicks in.”
“It can be helped, of course, by having an actual meal. With vitamin C in it. So the best course of action would be to take this foolish, theoretical person to have a theoretical dinner. Perhaps with a theoretically worried and done family member.”
"Please don't get mad, but I think there might be a, uh, little hole in the Tang."
There is a moment of audible silence as Law simply stares back at his little sister, a single raised eyebrow and the tired, unamused curl of his lips telling a story all on their own. After so many years together, facing hell and death and loss together, the Trafalgar siblings could have full conversations with their eyes alone. And what Lamy can read at this point are the words that have echoed through the halls of this submarine so many times before: Again? What you’ve done now? Lamy, please.
"...Where?" The silence is broken at last with a question and a sigh, resignation seeping through his voice in a mix of familiarity and mild exhasperation that is inherent to a family like theirs. "...Depending on the damage, you better tell Ikkaku yourself. I'm sick of her yelling at me."
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