knightfeared

[knightfeared]

DIFFERENT KINDS OF KISSES *  send 'reverse' for the reversal of the prompt, nsfw implied

[ soothe ] sender kisses receiver to stop them from shaking

[ forehead ] sender tenderly kisses receiver's forehead

[ brief ] sender sneaks a kiss to receiver's cheek as they walk by

[ brow ] sender kisses the bridge of receiver's eyebrow

[ impossible ] sender kisses receiver as a final gesture, knowing they can't be together

[ hiding ] sender checks the area around them before kissing receiver, trying not to get caught

[ handful ] sender peppers the receiver's cheek with multiple, playful kisses

[ line ] sender draws a trail of kisses down the length of receiver's shoulderblade and up their neck

[ almost ] sender and receiver are centimeters apart, about to kiss, but something interrupts them

[ side ] sender places a kiss on the side of receiver's nose

[ tip ] sender kisses the tip of receiver's nose

[ underside ] sender leans in and places a suggestive kiss just under receiver's jawline

[ giggle ] sender starts tickling and kissing the receiver all over in order to make them laugh

[ knuckle ] sender lifts receiver's hand to their lips and places a polite kiss there

[ last ditch ] right before receiver leaves for battle, sender rushes into their arms and kisses them desperately

[ the middle ] in the midst of a battle, sender steals a second alone with receiver and kisses them to reassure them

[ dreamy ] sender and receiver indulge in a handful of slow, romantic kisses

[ darkness ] sender and receiver makeout in a completely dark room

[ ear ] sender nuzzles and kisses receiver's ear

[ recline ] sender climbs ontop of receiver and steals a kiss

[ lazy ] sender kisses receiver to wake them up from a comfortable sleep

[ dramatics ] as sender and receiver argue back and forth, sender launches forward and kisses receiver to stop the fight

[ distance ] across a large space, sender blows receiver a kiss

[ hold ] sender and receiver are hugging, and sender kisses receiver on the cheek in a tender display

[ regret ] sender and receiver start to kiss, but sender backs away in the middle of it, knowing it's a bad idea

[ reunion ] thinking they'd never see each other again, sender and receiver are reunited and run into each other's arms, sharing a kiss

[ inner ] in a heated moment, sender trails kisses along receiver's inner thigh

[ lovebite ] in the midst of kissing receiver's neck, sender changes tactics and gives them a tender little bite

[ greeting ] sender and receiver greet each other with kisses to both cheeks in quick succession

[ bunny ] sender gives receiver a bunny kiss by rubbing their noses together back and forth

[ supportive ] sender kisses the top of receiver's head

[ fingertips ] sender places light kisses to each of receiver's fingertips

[ tongue ] sender and receiver indulge in a heavy makeout that involves tongue

[ first time ] sender leans in and kisses receiver for the first time

[ final ] sender and receiver share a kiss for the very last time, and they know it's their last

[ storm ] caught in the midst of a torrential downpour, sender can't help but close the distance and kiss receiver in the rain

[ scar ] sender sees one of receiver's scars for the first time and gently kisses it

[ desperate ] the situation is dire, and sender can't stop themselves from rushing forward and crushing receiver into an aggressive, frantic kiss

[ tend ] while tending to receiver's wounds, sender gives receiver a reassuring kiss

[ stolen ] sender and receiver cross paths and can't resist ducking into a safe place to makeout before they carry on with their day

[ irresistable ] sender taunts receiver by easing closer, promising a kiss, and then backing away, making receiver chase their lips

[ lipstick ] sender is wearing lipstick, and uses that fact to mark receiver with a few lipstick stains

[ chest ] sender removes receiver's shirt and immediately rushes forward to kiss their chest

[ shivering ] sender places small kisses all over receiver's stomach

[ fake ] sender and receiver pretend to be a couple and are forced to kiss each other to blend in

[ maybe ] sender and receiver are best friends and experiment with a kiss to see where it goes

[knightfeared]

Sinner

[knightfeared]

` 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐠, 𝐬𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞…

One he regrets — tells himself he does like a repetitive prayer,  a protective mantra that one day may ring true.  All bitter,  a conflicting,  contradictory mess he’s long lost hope of making sense of.  To acknowledge the creature that stalked him like a fond shadow,  nothing more than a beast preying on moments of weakness   –   he’d only continue inviting the creature in more.  Mistake made once,  he does his best not to do it again,  dagger sharp gaze averted off to the side,  away from ever ornate shoes that remain planted firmly in place among the grassy earth beneath.

He doesn’t dare move in close,  perhaps a mercy given how things had fallen to pieces,  how his actions had only further led to everything that’d transpired. No… not true, not entirely.  He knows no matter how he tries to reason   &&.   rationalize all they’d done under Emmanuel’s command…   they were no better.  They all had a part to play in Erzsebet rising to power.

The same sin binds them close even now,  strengthened with the twining bond of guilt, of complacency.  Darkened brows knit together tight,  grimace etching along battle-hardened features as the Monk swallows thickly.  Fists clenched at his sides,  he feels the weight of his blade much more these days where it hangs against his hip,  the instinctive urge to draw it when Olrox made his presence known waning if only out of fatigue.  Exhaustion.  The constant barrage of danger,  of needing to be alert to make amends with what he’d help bring upon the world finally beginning to take its toll.  Little by little,  the other’s words were becoming much more of a stiff comfort,  if only through the consistency of their visits,  the way he’d try to soothe things down,  to needle away at his resolve like something acidic,  decaying.

When Mizrak finally does feel his patience begin to fray &&. snap   –   when he demands @sorrowveined say what it is he’d come there to say,  he expects taunts,  the damned vampire’s own control to snap after the same repeated routine of approaching the defeated man    &&.   being rebuked.  He’s disappointed,  but relief painstakingly makes itself known when instead of anything angry or annoyed,  instead Olrox chooses to calmly answer. His voice is smooth, soft as a whisper with the grief he holds, peering unwaveringly at the monk with a lilt of his lips.

Would he?  They both know the answer.  He would not,  though that didn’t mean the idea wouldn’t linger if shared regardless.  There’s something about the creature’s voice as he continues.  Something mournful,  yearning,  undeniably heartbroken under a crystal-thinned veneer of casual seduction he dons to hide it away. Once he sees it, it’s hard to pretend it’s not present.  It’s these moments where something human,  mimicking so cleverly begin to chip away at his guard.  That almost manage to convince him the other holds enough of a soul to experience &&. express… love.  Affections.  Humanity over the initial bestial nature he’s been taught were all that remained.

He looks up,  against everything screaming under his skin not to give the devil an inch,   &&.   like an accursed fool,  his own steely expression wavers,  cracks.  Despite the anger that flares,  the protective defensiveness that rises at the arrogance to question the presence of their God…   The swordsman can’t bring himself to respond,   not until he remembers to breathe.

The reassurance is chilling.  Equal parts relieving    &&.   sparking at a dormant prey-like rage,  something fearful,  cold as ice in his veins as he steps back into the protective warmth of the sun at his back.  He tries his best to maintain the stern air of dismissal kept up since the other’d continued to haunt him,  but it’s harder to hold when his own doubts sing so loud.

Meeting the other’s venomous gaze,  he can’t help but hold the vivid gem-like stare,  shakily flickering between as he hisses out the weak,  threadbare argument of his words being lies.

` “Empty promises,  devil’s lies.  You’ve gotten what you need of me.  I don’t…”

A hand is gestured in the vampire’s direction a curl of his lips,  a wrinkle of his nose conjured in an effort to hold the mask of anger.  Pathetic.  He hates the way the other’s stare pierces through him like a knife.  Like he knew the truth in how firm he truly stood, how easily he would crumble when pushed just hard enough.

` “…Why do you persist?  You have nothing more to gain.”

` ＊ 𝑻𝑯𝑹𝑬𝑨𝑫 𝑪𝑶𝑵𝑻𝑰𝑵𝑼𝑬𝑫 . ᨒ↟𐂂

[knightfeared]

say what you need to say. ( Mizrak for Olrox )

"If I said it, would you listen?"

Olrox's voice is a whisper. He utters the words and then gives a slight smile - seductive. Sad.

They've been in this place before. It never hurts any less when Mizrak rebukes him, calls him a monster, or runs off to get himself killed without sparing him even a passing thought. It hurts more, perhaps, to know that Mizrak hates himself just as much as he hates Olrox. A man of God who lay with the devil, at least as far as he's concerned... if only he could see that his story isn't an uncommon one. That it doesn't have to end the way he's been taught.

Olrox doesn't blame him, not really. It makes him laugh at himself sometimes, how quickly he himself had fallen for the man, even after everything he told himself... the denial didn't last for long, though, because Olrox has never been one to lie to himself.

"There's only one being you'll listen to, in the end. But have you ever really heard him? Has he ever really heard you?" In the end, God will always stay silent, no matter how devoted the believer.

"I don't expect you to listen to me, Mizrak. But I'll still be here."

[knightfeared]

` 𝑬𝒎𝒐𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒂𝒍 𝒓𝒆𝒖𝒏𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔 𝒘𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒔𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒉𝒆 𝒉𝒂𝒅 𝒚𝒆𝒕 𝒕𝒐 𝒈𝒆𝒕 𝒖𝒔𝒆𝒅 𝒕𝒐.

[ … ]   Coming from where he had,  never holding much importance save for the polite acknowledgement,  it was still taking some getting used to,  this…  entire thing.  The importance,  the genuine relief   &&.   joy when he’d return between journeys through Ferelden back to Skyhold.

Between the Inquisition’s usual needed Duty’s,  trying to patch together   &&.   heal the very skies themselves    &&.   fending off Corypheus’ attacks between Regions…  while he was gradually,  bit by bit growing more comfortable with the title he’d been crowned of Andraste’s chosen   –   being treated like something cherished for himself,  believed to be human over infallible,  indestructible — it never failed to make him falter in the best of ways.

He wouldn’t say he craved the closeness,  not so openly,  but with a cheeky grin tossed the Qunari’s way upon returning,  a leading hue gleaming in bright autumn sights before he turned to make his way to their war room to regroup    &&.   give a final report in with his Advisors   –   he can describe it no other way as he feels the bristling starts of anticipation,  of excitement teasing along his spine like chilled fingertips.  A certain subdued giddiness to his gestures as he goes to finish his own business,  holding the sight of the Mercenary Captain’s own crook lipped grin close in mind.

Step by step,  up to his quarters he goes with a honeyed slowness leaving him so sluggishly paced once he’s relieved of duty    &&.   dismissed to recover   –   he can’t help but count his breaths,  fox-toned sights flitting between the stairs he progresses up   &&.   the door ahead.

Finally coming to a halt at the firm barrier,  it takes an embarrassing minute to prod himself into moving,  to opening it up with a slowed twist of his wrist,  head peeking in before he loudly enters.  His armoured boots echo as he tromps up the final few stairs to the loft-suite he’d been gifted,  feeling the telling chill of the mountain air breezing through from opened windows.  Something he’s certain he’d left closed before departing.

More of those jittery chills leaving fresh goosebumps along his skin in new bloom.  Once he reaches the top,  he’s not disappointed by the company he finds,  lounging at his desk by the fireplace,  feet comfortably propped atop the surface,  reclined just enough to still give the air of composed alertness he’d usually donned.  Already,  there’s a smile etching easily along his lips,  much warmer,  more openly fond as Mercius steps further inside the open room.

Bull’s eye follows his movement,  his own expression quick to mirror,  that thunder deep chuckle reverberating through the space in a way that made the rogue hum happily.

Not quite their usual game or set up   –   it’s awkward,  admittedly,  a slowed staccato in how they’d usually go about initiating intimacy.  No words are spoken just yet,  just lingering stares,  conveyed messages,  feelings,  thoughts all shared through a threadbare,  fragile glance over anything more.  Like the moment was so delicately spun,  acknowledging it meant shattering everything between careless hands.  In their defense…  this was most likely the longest he’d been away from the other man.  One of the few journeys the fighter hadn’t been able to accompany him on.

Turning his back to @vikshodgepodge,  listening to the sound of the chair he rest against creak before it’s settled none-too gently back onto the stone flooring.  There’s more sounds of shuffling,  things being closed,  locked tight to be secure once more,  all as Mercius makes it a point not to look,  continuing to pry    &&.   unlace his armour piece by piece.

Steps come in closer,  pausing a quiet breath away,  the instant warmth he can find curled just out of reach,  radiating so strongly from the man he knows stands behind   –   he releases his breath with a shuddery laugh,  eyes pinned down as he tosses one of his overly ornate pauldrons onto the bench space ahead…   Confident,  knowing the other’d take it from there,  he leans back in a smooth step.

Sighing softly when he meets Bull’s sturdy frame,  he’s happy to report his arms are quick to envelope him,  cradling,  caring,  another unspoken promise to take care   &&.   safeguard.  All the blonde can do is beam to himself,  wide smile,  the barest hint of peeking teeth between chapped lips given to empty air as he turns his face into one of the draped pale arms.

Pressing a kiss to the bared skin beneath,  it’s nice when the pair begin to lightly sway,  before one of Bull’s hands move to help him finish taking off the rest of his gear.  Over far sooner,  thankfully with his aid,  it isn’t long before the Anchor-bearer feels he can breathe easy for what felt the first time in weeks.  Months.

A kiss is pressed back,  a rumble-toned hum as a hand plays with his hair   –   overgrown,  sadly fluffing out after being tucked away beneath his helmet for who knew how long   –   a few more passing beats before he’s promptly turned in place,  another kiss tamped down just by his temple as he’s soon swooped up in a flurry of limbs,  breathless laugh following before he finds his back making contact with the blessedly soft sheets on his bed.

Peering up in a brief daze at the looming Qunari,  his grin is nothing short of adoring,  relief-struck   &&.   quietly fawning,  something notably tender amidst the bit of mixed in concern   –   Bull’s eye flicks along his features,  searching around for any potential new scars,  wounds,  any new changes undergone in his absence.

The entire time,  all Mercius can do is laugh,  a quiet sound barely breaking a whisper,  expression dimming down to something no less warm,  but reserved,  private,  darting from the other’s mouth back up scarred features to the eyepatch    &&.   eye above.  Hand reaching up,  pausing before he huffs   &&. plucks it off with the edge of his teeth,  the action is a little rushed,  impatient,  but quick to sooth as he melds it to the strong shape of the Qunari’s face.

It’s a loving gesture,  sappy.  As much as he’d normally be the one to tease    &&.  poke fun at the way the man leans into it,  when touch-starved…  he himself was no better.

Finally he breaks the deafening silence,  head angled,  other arm reaching up to loop around the other’s neck to simply hold.

` ❝ I missed you too. ❞

` ⟢ 𝑨𝑺𝑲 𝑹𝑬𝑪𝑬𝑰𝑽𝑬𝑫 . ᨒ↟𐂂 ⟢ 「 THROW 」 : for sender to throw receiver onto the bed (iron bull)

[knightfeared]

༝ 𝑪𝒖𝒓𝒔𝒆𝒔 𝒇𝒍𝒚 𝒕𝒉𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉 𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒅 𝒂𝒕 𝒂 𝒎𝒊𝒍𝒆 𝒂 𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒖𝒕𝒆,  𝒂 𝒘𝒊𝒍𝒅 𝒇𝒍𝒖𝒓𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒅 𝒔𝒕𝒐𝒓𝒎.

[ … ]   But not a single one slips past his lips,  tugged deep into a low,  pronounced frown around the crushed end of his bitten through cigarette’s filter,  the only true grace that Sanji has in that moment as he works to help readjust the bindings cleanly wrapped around the shitty Swordsman’s torso,  is that his hands remain ever steady,  unwavering as they loosen the bandages a comfortable yet secure amount before moving to redress them back into place.  Less tight,  enough  Zoro could breath without straining his already battered form during his recovery.

One of the many other skills learned after working so long in such a heated environment along the Baratie – he’d learned young how to keep a level head in hot water,  the ability to keep calm when everything around teetered closer,  closer to licking flames beneath threatening to burn it all down.  One too many times now had he watched the idiot throw himself into danger,  headfirst without little other care outside of bull-headedly wearing the self-donned mantle of their crew’s protector to consider whether a fight was better to tackle on his own or wait for help to back it up.

Martyr,  fool,  someone who was strong but still carried doubt far stronger when he’d wavered or met an intimidating match.  Fear,  something that only served to fuel the other man to strive to be better in good    &&.   bad ways even now.

While annoyance wove itself tightly through the Cook’s limbs,  tension visibly bled from the harsh strain in his jaw where it ticks just so,  his eyes always were too honest to lie.  Concern,  tender fear of his own flickers like lightning in the night as he glares at the pink-tinged bandages firmly wrapped in place as he secures them down with the accompanying clip.  Zoro’s food is just off to the side,  close enough to retrieve with ease but he makes no move,  not yet,  uttering an attempted hiss the green-haired Pirate’s way with a twitch of his brow as he peers into his unscarred eye directly.

Despite the roughness of his words,  the surface-level callousness that paraded around so loudly in its donned irritation,  it’s all fake,  shield-like in how it shelters away the worry threatening to peek.  He damn near gave him a heart attack,  all of them with how he’d barely pulled through that last battle.  All he receives from the stubborn Swordsman as he dismisses Sanji,  is a low grunt   &&.   a sharp turn of his face,  gaze directing off to a nearby corner.  Before he can express annoyance with the attitude,  he catches the subtle way Zoro’s brows crease,  not quite a pained grimace taking form across tensed features,  but something notably,  distinctly bothered   &&.   uneasy.

It’s enough to disarm him,  a steady stream of smoke blown through his nose as he turns his own face away out of some attempted apology   –   an attempt to be civil    &&.  not make @viiteaz feel any worse with his flavoured tobacco blowing into his face so close.  His hand lingers on a shoulder,  a light squeeze given as Zoro quietly rumbles out a reassurance of his own.  Few words,  bluntly spoken,  but in the Swordsman’s own way,  it worked wonders,  easing something clenched tight in his chest to relax just enough when he next breathes,  it’s in a lighter chuckle,  one that comes far easier finally since they’d all boarded the Sunny again.

Shaking his head,  removing his hand to card it through loose blonde locks,  he glances over to the plate of food,  moving it closer with a steady grip just off to Zoro’s left hand side where he sits.  His favorite,  as a sort of… celebratory way to express thanks for everything as well as a congratulations on surviving.  Lips crook high,  an easy curve that’s promptly hidden with a swift duck of his head as he stands to his feet,  sighing before he gently places a small cup next to an offered bottle of sake.

` ❝ Better not.  At this rate…  You’ll end up more scar than skin. ❞

It’s not the kindest way to take his leave,  but he has enough comfort knowing little really needed to be said between the odd pair. Whether it was caught or not to understand the relief that twines between his words.  Waving a hand,  he leaves the other to rest with the food    &&.   drink,  tinging the air with the lingering scent of his black cherry tobacco.

` ＊ 𝑻𝑯𝑹𝑬𝑨𝑫 𝑪𝑶𝑵𝑻𝑰𝑵𝑼𝑬𝑫 . ᨒ↟𐂂

[knightfeared]

“ Don't make me go through this again. ” ( Sanji @ Zoro )

a moment of weakness. zoro doesn't even say anything nor even looks at the other male after he heard those words. as much as he argues with the other, seeing him like this is something he doesn't enjoy at all.

"don't worry..." zoro says as he places a hand on the cook's shoulder. "i will not let that happen again."

[knightfeared]

Curious and giggling— do I have a muse type? If so what is it in your guys’ opinion.

[knightfeared]

@vikshodgepodge

they’re making fun of some hightown local or something idk

[knightfeared]

@vikshodgepodge

[knightfeared]

[knightfeared]

I LOVE. having multiple threads with my rp partners !! it’s like on some days i feel like writing long stuff, on others i feel more like writing short stuff, sometimes i’d rather write some intense situations, and other times i’m more in the mood for lighthearted topics. having several different types of threads with a person enables me to keep rping with them even if i’m stuck @ a reply for another thread we’re having !! it’s great, honestly !? if you wanna have 1 more thread or 20 more threads /w me that’s 10/10 👌👌👌👌 just write that starter or send an ic ask & we’ll go from there or hmu for plotting k man i love threads i love writing all the things

[knightfeared]

༝ 𝑺𝒕𝒂𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈,  𝒉𝒆 𝒉𝒐𝒍𝒅𝒔 𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒕𝒐𝒏𝒈𝒖𝒆 𝒊𝒏 𝒅𝒊𝒔𝒃𝒆𝒍𝒊𝒆𝒇…

[ … ]     Teeth biting gentle indents into the filter of his current cigarette as a brow lightly twitches in simmering indignation.  A firm look of warning,  a silent command to back off    &&.  leave the alcohol alone is given.  Given…   &&.   then near immediately ignored.  Holding @viiteaz’s stare,  there’s an air of smug,  goading arrogance to his expression as the scarred man slowly reaches over,  thick calloused fingers curling one by one around the neck of the bottle nearest   –   one Sanji’d taken out to add to the meal he was prepping for.

` ❝ Oi, Marimo… ❞

Watching,  waiting,  studying the Cook’s expression as he moves to drag it closer   –   he really does try to keep his cool,  to stay calm,  patiently collected.  All for naught.  Sucking in a deepened breath,  his cigarette’s edge flares a bright scarlet in anger,  exhaling the gathered smoke through his nose as his expression sours into an annoyed frown.  His hands have ceased their earlier chopping,  hold frozen mid slice as he goes to give another warning.

` ❝ Put.  It.  Back.  I was using that. ❞

He’d rather not start a spar in the kitchen.  He knows the Swordsman can wait until after to get his usual fill   –   it wasn’t like he’d suddenly wither away   &&.   dehydrate if he went a few more hours without…

` ＊ 𝑨𝑺𝑲 𝑹𝑬𝑪𝑬𝑰𝑽𝑬𝑫 . ᨒ↟𐂂 ⟢ zoro gonna steal some booze right in front of sanji.

[knightfeared]

༝ 𝑨 𝒃𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒇𝒍𝒚 𝒅𝒊𝒔𝒃𝒆𝒍𝒊𝒆𝒗𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝒏𝒐 𝒍𝒆𝒔𝒔 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒄𝒆𝒓𝒏𝒆𝒅 𝒍𝒐𝒐𝒌 𝒊𝒔 𝒐𝒇𝒇𝒆𝒓𝒆𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝑺𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒓’𝒔 𝒘𝒂𝒚…

[ … ]     The tone of voice @phntasmgoria takes is one of unwavering confidence,  something bolstered through pure woven belief,  a deep set array that keeps her hand steady as she sways it out to the side as she continues to speak.  Animated,  lively,  but in a way that still made him just a bit uneasy especially so soon after their most recent events…   there’s a look in her eyes that stops him,  lures back a bit of old traitorously blind naivety in place to guide.

A want to explain her side of the story,  to be as upfront as possible in an effort to help illuminate things for better understanding.  Despite everything,  she was an old friend of Luffy’s,  someone who meant a lot to him.  Curiosity had always had a hand in guiding him to act   &&.   investigate things better left untouched    &&.   undisturbed…   Trailing along after it,  he continues to lightly puff at the cigarette in hand,  spice-scented plumes wafting through the air around the blonde as brows pinch together.

` ❝ Hey,  hey.  Let’s just start from the beginning,  alright?  I’ll listen. ❞

` ＊ 𝑨𝑺𝑲 𝑹𝑬𝑪𝑬𝑰𝑽𝑬𝑫 . ᨒ↟𐂂 ⟢ you're going to want to hear the whole story, or you'll be very, very sorry. ( uta to sanji! )

[knightfeared]

༝ 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒍𝒊𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕 𝒅𝒐𝒆𝒔𝒏’𝒕 𝒈𝒐 𝒖𝒏𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒊𝒄𝒆𝒅 𝒏𝒐𝒓 𝒖𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒂𝒑𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒄𝒊𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒅.

[ … ]     Making a mental note to needle the man about his favored foods in the future are made as a show of thanks,  instead Sanji settles on offering a drink the Pirate’s way.  In a deep flourishing swoosh,  smiling lightly around the cigarette he keeps balanced between his teeth in perfect ease,  he pauses his current task.  All deep-ingrained showmanship carefully honed through years of experience aboard the Baratie,  from the elegantly done pouring of tea from pot to cup,  the nudging of the drink the man's way as he returns the beaming grin in a weaker facsimile.

Compliments bearing a kinder,  more genuine charm were one way to weaken his stern guard,  something so naturally left raised especially upon meeting new faces out at sea.  Though…  admittedly he was beginning to warm up to the devil-fruit user,  enough to label him as an ally,  someone they could trust given his bond with their Captain,  along with how willing he was to help over cause trouble.  As the Cook continues the last of his dinner-planned preparations,  he hums,  glancing back over in time to catch the appraising look given to the generous spread set out atop the table.

Something momentarily far away,  a calmed lull swaying between memory   &&.  reality he recognized easily enough.  His hands move with careful grace,   continuing to chop along the garnishing in hand,  spiced plumes of flavoured tobacco wafting up from around the busy blonde as he finally garners up enough of a response with the focus he’s able to spare.

` ❝ Definitely a miracle.  He’s a good Captain.  He just doesn’t have much in the way of self-restraint. ❞

Despite the words he shares,  the comment made about Luffy himself,  the smile he has is warm,  fondly affectionate as he sprinkles the greenery prepared atop a few of the dishes.  No,  he didn’t regret joining the Strawhats,  firmly standing by his belief that one day,  Luffy’d achieve not only his own dreams of becoming King of the Pirates,  but that he’d help them all to make their own bloom to existence.  There’s careful wound respect in place,  something that ensures a steady,  stable enough ground to walk along in how he throws teasing words about so effortlessly.

Just as he goes to turn back towards clearing away the used dishes to wash later,  there’s a glint caught from the edge of his vision,  the subtle shifting before Ace’s smile widens toothily in pride of his own.  Cat-like,  he offers the fish   –   freshly caught,  he mentally notes as he studies the scales,  the eyes    &&.   fins of the fish held his way.  He also catches some of the charred marks along certain parts,  but thankfully,  it doesn’t seem Ace’s flames had damaged much or handled them poorly.  Almost immediately,  he knows just what kind was caught,  mind quickly sifting through mentally stored recipes he could use to compliment the taste.

Accepting them,  there’s a jitter-like joy that laces his movements,  though he hardly falters as he lays them down horizontally along the spare bit of counterspace nearest the sink.

❝ Perfect   –   thanks, full of surprises aren’t you? Thankfully good ones.  I know just what to make with these…   For now,  I’ll just have to prep them for storage…  Did you know– ❞

Carried away,  eyes roaming along the iridescent scales,  watching how they reflected the light spilling into the cabin kitchenette,  Ace is woefully unprepared for the amount of fish lore the Cook suddenly starts to share.  An old habit from childhood,  excitement chittering just high enough he loses track of his current company in favor of verbally speaking out loud what facts he’d stashed up,  what knowledge he kept in mind from all those years of training,  practicing,  researching all there was to know about the Fish in each of the seas.

" Man, Luffy wasn't kidding when he said you're like a magician at work in here, " Ace's smile lies easy on his lips, dark eyes roaming around appreciatively both at the spread already forming on the table as well as the man at work himself. He knows he's not really supposed to interrupt a chef at work━ Thatch had cuffed him around the ears good-naturedly enough times for being a distraction ( and one time not so good-naturedly when he'd taken a sleepy face dive into one of his meat pies while sitting at the table ) ━ but there's almost something soothing about the chaos of a kitchen and Ace remembers the chaos aboard the Moby Dick fondly enough.

Not that he's keen on dwelling on either Thatch or the Moby Dick nowadays. " Honestly a small miracle you manage all this while managing to keep Luffy out. "

Of course, he's not just here to suffuse Sanji with praise even if he might enjoy doing so to watch the guy fluster just a little, but before Sanji can question him on why he's interrupting he holds up a pair of freshly caught fish━ albeit already looking a little charred around the edges from his somewhat more... unconventional method of catching them. " Usopp told me you might know what to do with these. " / @knightfeared ft sanji

[knightfeared]

Assorted Sanji hc rambles below the cut im too lazy to fully transfer to text rn. I wanna share em cause they’re for portrayal and I may mention some things vaguely in threads.

[knightfeared]

` 𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐭𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬 𝐢𝐭𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐛𝐛𝐨𝐫𝐧 𝐠𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐭𝐡 𝐨𝐟 𝐚 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐭 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞.

[ … ]   He’s curious,  worried   –   yes,  of course,  but…   Mismatched sights carefully look over Nico,  pale hands helping to better steady the younger of the pair as Zagreus offers him a lop-sided smile.  An attempt to lift the mood,  to offer some form of normalcy to cling to just in case.

Concern wins out above all else,  but even so,  he can’t help but poke    &&.   prod with his questions like a finger brushing atop a fresh bruise or a new wound.  It’s reckless,  potentially insensitive,  but he means well,  something he knows the other understands.  He’d always been one of the rare few to…  it’s why when he did help him back to his feet earlier,  as they continued to idly spar in the courtyard with bits of traded updates being tossed between,  he felt so comfortable continuing with his curiosity-guided interrogations.

Head canting at a slight angle,  the Godling can’t help but hum,  giving his wrist a smoothened roll,  lifting the shield he shifts his grip along to be more secure in test.  Giving @stygicniron the signal it was alright to swing,  to attack properly   &&.   continue,  Zagreus keeps his own voice gentle,  grunting when he feels the weight of the other moving to strike harshly,  prompting him to abruptly roll to put some distance.

` ❝ Well…  how did it start? ❞

Comes the casually offered prodding,  darkened brows lilting skywards as scarlet-green dart across the other’s features.

` ❝ It can’t have just… vanished so suddenly. ❞

A vast majority of feelings were tethered to memories,  further cementing in their resulting nostalgia…   For better or worse,  everything held a tie,   &&.   everything had a timeline in when things had begun to diminish or grow in strength.

` ＊ 𝑨𝑺𝑲 𝑹𝑬𝑪𝑬𝑰𝑽𝑬𝑫 . ᨒ↟𐂂 ⟢ i don't know how the feeling ended . @ zagreus