⸻ vice admiral smoker of the marines, told in a canon divergent verse and a star wars verse. independent and selective, mutuals only. — narrated by keats.
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@smcker
⸻ vice admiral smoker of the marines, told in a canon divergent verse and a star wars verse. independent and selective, mutuals only. — narrated by keats.

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A THROATY CHUCKLE tumbles deep within his chest. A tinge of guilt tarnishes its timber as it settles. The Vice Admiral's statement bears only truth, and he must contend with that. Thankfully, no souls were aboard the vessel, but he recognizes the risk regardless. Though savory steam wafts up, Issho does not yet yield to the temptation it brings. Not until after the elephant in the room is addressed.
"A gamble, yes," He asserts. There's weight behind his words, though it's not the usual mirth they're marinated in. "I did favor my odds, Vice Admiral." It's indignation. "I trust you aren't under the impression that I'm incompetent."
Still bend forward, looking at the Admiral from under his brow, the sharpness in his eyes dissipated, "Never," it wasn't his competence he doubted, but the amount he staked in his gambles.
Issho was effective, there was no denying that, and without a doubt, the fright he gave the perpetrators surely already gave then an edge in the fight. He sighed, looked to his side, "Isn't there anything a bit smaller you could summon down from the skies? Something with an intermediate potential for destruction?"
A vintage sticker of the Mighty Riki
got updated to a different shift and my schedule is wack rn. will probably be pretty mia until the weekend!
Why am I finding out just today that Salvador Dali designed the Chupa Chups logo
????
Hey. What
"relax. sucking does not kill" would make for a fun shirt

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my man losing IQ points so rapidly when there's a pretty man in front of him fjoasfa 🤦♂️
Dark eyes didn't even spare the growing smoke with a glance as they continued to watch the expression upon the marine's face. Those same eyes did not move from where they stayed glued even when the doors of the room slammed shut, the noise causing a brief vibration that would've unnerved a lesser man, but Falcon had not been that man for a long, long time.
Seeing as the marine had closed them in the room together, Falcon took it upon himself to further close the distance until it was so minute--near toe to toe--that all the other had to do was move slightly and he would immediately breach Faclon's own personal space.
"'Playing cute', Marine-san?" Falcon questioned, unable to let that slide because it was honestly the first time anyone had ever accused him of something by using words like that; his head tilted up to catch that brown eyed gaze, so clearly undaunted by Smoker's presence still even this close. "Tell me, what would 'playing cute' get me from you, but allow me to say this, first: any man who raises a sword to me in one hand, lays down his life with the other because a swordsman worth the iron he wields knows that he forfeits himself by choosing the path in the first place."
He could expect someone considered for the position of warlord to not flinch or back away from him. He could fully even expect him to square up to him too. He could feel himself getting a bit abashed when the other stepped in closer still. He hadn't been prepared for such dark beautiful eyes to be looking up at him from so close. He was forced to observe what he had already seen when he first laid his eyes on him from atop the stairs; he was a beautiful man. That silky smooth hair framing a handsome face perfectly, dressed to the nines, and those sleepy down turned eyes, well, they truly were striking.
He was speaking, but he had stopped listening after 'playing cute'. And really? Playing cute? Had he said that himself?
...He could think of several things that 'playing cute' would get from him.
He became aware of an uncomfortable pause in which neither of them said anything, and finally his eyes returned back to the would-be-warlord's from where they had somehow ended up on his lips. There was a faint flush on his cheeks both from the paths his thoughts had wandered and from the embarrassment from letting that happen while he was on duty and in front of someone he was supposed to be interrogating.
"Mh," he said, very intelligently.
⸻ “ this is the way of scythes. we cut only what we must so that new life may flourish. please, my shadow. take up the scythe once more. ” a relic of the great war, guardian of the ancient weapon uranus, set adrift by his ward, finding new purpose. independent and selective one piece oc, mutuals only. — narrated by keats.
@smcker
Muses/Rules Multi-muse One Piece blog. Penned by Ziggy. Semi-Selective and mun is 27+ Minors DNI
Promo temple credit

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[ @smcker and Marina's Chill Marine Cadet Playlist]
Obligatory Disclaimer: I haven't listened to this album since 2000, and it's possible it's full of problematic artists and cultural appropriation since it is a late-Nineties New Age compilation.
@harbordoc
No? No?? What sort of answer was that?
Drake blinked, his frown wide, as he actually started to become a bit annoyed himself now, and while he didn't have to explain to Smoker, maybe - just maybe - if he did the guy would get upset enough lay off him...
"It's just easier," Drake replied tersely, unhappily picking at the grass underneath him. "I'm an adult, and I've been taking care of myself for a long time now--longer than anyone else has, so what do I need anyone else for?"
He stared up at the blue sky above, the clouds calmly drifting by, with an unhappy turn to his mouth. Of course all Drake's skulking and sulking was a sign of someone doing wonderfully now wasn't it? "Well how do you know then? If you've never let anyone pitch in before," he questioned. Drake was being a little bitch about this, so he was going to be a little bitch about it too. "Stop being difficult."
Reblog if you are willing to write in-depth, significant, and valued FRIENDSHIPS.
There is so much focus on romantic/sexual relationships lately. Friendships are incredibly important for characters too, and deserve as much love and attention as romantic/sexual relationships.
@smcker
"Hey, Phil." The voice that answers Smoker from across the alleyway is deep and husky from years of smoking with the sort of lackadaisical drawl that's like nails on a chalkboard to so many law-abiding types. And--hell, she's not talking to the Vice Admiral at all, is she?"
Woolf takes the cigarillo in her mouth between two fingers and stubs the lit end out against the wall, sparing a moment of regret for her unfinished smoke as she flicks it into a nearby puddle of wastewater. "I really wish you hadn't brought me into this one."
Idiots don't last long in Cross Guild, and they sure as hell don't last long in the New World. The man in handcuffs--Whale-Eye Phillip-- is neither of those things. He's miserably competent, which begs the question: why in G-d's name did he try for the head of a Vice Admiral?
'Death wish,' she realizes, 'or wrong place, wrong time.'
The Cross Guild bounty hunter gives a half-hearted jerk against Smoker's grip, rattling the cuffs and rolling a look over his shoulder at her as he flashes a mouthful of silver teeth in a tight grin. "Berri for a bit o' help, 'Lady Friend'."
An irritated, "Hey," from the woman at the other end of the alley, followed two seconds later by a flat, "shut up."
Finally--yes, fucking at last--her eyes shift toward Smoker. Woolf ignores the urge to bare her teeth right back at him, instead regarding him down the length of her nose. The White Hunter. She doesn't even have Observation haki, but the power drips off him even so. "This isn't a fight either of us wants."
(That's a g-ddamn lie. Her pulse is racing, and that part of herself she's always having to tamp down, tamp down, tamp down is burning like a fire in her gut.)
There's nothing conciliatory about her smile. It's a hint too wide, and though the teeth in her mouth are blunt and human, she regards Smoker as if she wouldn't mind a go at chewing through his neck anyway.
"I can't let you take him--" she draws out the name, sampling the feel of it in her mouth as she would a puff of cigar smoke, "White Hunter." She tilts her head slightly, tongue slithering over her teeth as she does so. All at once, there's a bright gleam in those sleepy eyes of hers. Anticipation warring with good sense. "Any chance you'll oblige me and unlock those handcuffs?"
He grit his teeth in irritation as his captive and the woman spoke over him, but soon his ears perked. Lady Friend, he had heard talk of a woman who seemed to be Crocodile's girlfriend. People spoke of her in hushed reverence, apparently she had blown someone's brains out right in their own camp not too long ago. She was strong, he could feel it as pressure at the back of his eyeballs, see her Haki practically dripping off of her in strips of white and gold.
His captive and this apparent 'Lady Friend' talking gave him ample opportunity to take in her appearance and a red bead hanging around her neck gave him pause. There was an unconformable familiarity in her mannerism and speech to a man who was long dead now. His eyes found their way back to her face. Had he seen her before?
His expression had smoothed from ferocity to uncertainty but shifted right back to where he had started when she finally deigned to speak directly to him. He is shocked at how much she seems like a feral animal, something clawing at the bounds of her body to be set loose. He can see it's a boldfaced lie from her to say she doesn't want to fight.
They were further from the town center but not far enough, he would have to take her down fast or risk attracting the attention of the other Cross Guild operatives at the port.
He looped another set of handcuffs though the first set, and cuffed the man, Whale-Eye, to a metal pipe in the alleyway to free his hands to wield his jitte.
"You know Crocodile, don't you?" he took a step closer to the woman, "You are his girlfriend?"

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@smcker sent: "you know, there's such a thing as looking too long."
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"And I will continue to look for as long as I want." tutted Crocodile's response, the man's golden gaze not blinking as it dug into Smoker's form. "That's my prize for having you here. You don't get the pleasure of privacy, marine."
His head jerked up slightly from where he was looking back at him from deep beneath his brow. His next breath was shallow. A small flicker, a loss of focus, in his eyes. The scowl on his face had smoothed somewhere along the way to a mere furrow.