#sweetfulsin

[sagelyexalt]

Gift Aesthetic -- @sweetfulsin    The Thief of Sweets        & A Sweet Thief            Gaius

[fiiach-blog]

[ ♫ & ✼? ]

♫ - Do you listen to music when you write? If yes, what kind of music, if no, why not?

I do actually! It depends on the mood of the rp, or the muse. Sometimes I just listen to random things though. (I’ll listen to my frederick x henri or this one henri playlist on 8tracks I really like). Lmao here’s some songs. 

Some weeb gakupo stuff

miku weeb stuff (flashing lights)

Love in Secret

Flare

✼- Do you think the character/characters you role play as reflect who you are?

Well considering I’m kin with Henri, yes! I share a lot of insecurities that Henri has, and I’m also secretive about my true feelings (when it comes to my insecurities, anger or sadness lmao)

also I like birds. Birds are good. 

[deleantvr-blog]

@sweetfulsin.

      Practically tripping over himself in his haste, Morgan scrambled to catch up with Gaius before he lost sight of him. After hearing the news, he’d been trying to track down the elusive older Shepherd for almost an hour. As he approached, the teen didn’t even think to ask if now was a bad time to talk to him (as he often did). Morgan’s expression was bright and cheery, and he clapped his hands together in triumph before speaking.

                ❝ Gaius! One of the soldiers told me your bag of sweets                         was BOTTOMLESS. D’ya think I could see it?? ❞

[fiiach-blog]

SWEETS! ;; ||

THIEF :: a person who steals, especially secretly or without open force. That is what the man before Henri was. ONE COULD ASK THOUGH, could they both be killers? Henri was known to be one not of innocence, and the curiosity peaked to the HIGHEST STATE. Murderer? Killer? Thief? Disgusting?

Everyone here though, they would never be classified as a murderer, because this ‘war’ was for peace right? Hahah, what hypocrisy. 

“ Say, Gaius. You’ve caught my eye about a few things! Ya wouldn’t mind a few questions hmm? ”

A quizzical hum, wondering what this man’s answer would be. Oh he’d probably would be disappointed in the long run. 

[pridesought-blog]

     “Gaius. Exemplary timing. I have devised an alternative source of sugar in the events that we find ourselves unable to procure it from the markets. Would you appraise it?”

@sweetfulsin

[arrowbound-archive-blog]

sweetfulsin: 

What a moron!

Gaius would have been perfectly fine out there in that last battle. …Okay, even if he took a surprise hit or two, he wouldn’t have ended up in the infirmary unlike a certain one-eyed outlaw who did take the hit.

Ugh, he should probably go apologize or something.

“How you feelin’, Patches? Got all patched up?” (Hardy har har.)

Even with the off-white bandages wound tightly around the outlaw’s midriff and arms, traces of still seeping blood staining parts of the dressings, he still donned that shit-eating grin (not that Gaius was one to criticize, since he would most definitely play the same card). He expected nothing less.

Without even thinking, the thief wrapped his hand around the fingers of one of Niles’ hands. Was it an awkward form of an apology? Regret? He couldn’t quite tell; having someone stick their neck out for Gaius’ sake–in any capacity, let alone their actual neck–was rather new.

Gaius’ eyelids droop as he carefully studies each crevice, scar, and dip of the outlaw’s hand, the pad of his thumb exploring along with his eyes. His lips, dropped ever so slightly ajar, ghosted just above the bumps of the other’s knuckles. Only the steady inhale exhale of his nose brush against the hand held in his own.

The fact that the other hadn’t yet yanked himself away from Gaius’ grasp gave him enough indication that the touch wasn’t entirely unwanted. Perhaps it was just curiosity that kept him there. But so be it.

His lips meet the other’s knuckles. He was hesitant to call it a kiss; there was no extra movement to his lips, no pining desire. An extraordinarily simple gesture. The ‘kiss’ lingers for only a few moments before he pulls away, a cynical grin spreading across his face.

“… Since when were you ever this reckless?” Let alone for another person.

Ugh, please.

Insistent and unrelenting throb of his head aside, he can barely focus ( let alone hear ) with such a provocative tone. Provocative granted he very well could have ( oh, should have been ) a dying man caved in and crawling out his last wretched moments on this rotten earth, ah…

….but alas, fate hardly ( if even at all ) favors lil’ ol’ him today, all patched up indeed. Hah, so patched up, in fact, he can hardly feel the pump of blood and all of the normally warm flow it entails forcing itself through his teetering veins. How exhilarating. …more boring, to be exact. How ever is he to ram his arrow into anything now? It seems little Gaius owes him the very worst anyone could possibly imagine owing to filth such as him.

A favor. Just one tiny little tasteful favor.

And with what barely half of mind he does just so happen to possess, he thinks to demand another session of hot passes in the kitchen. Cupcakes are lovely… although cookies always had a certain way about them no other treat could. Oh, besides- what good is a steamy morsel without a cup of milky delight to pair with it?

Unfortunately, he’s in no particular mood for visitors and with a silvered crack of his tongue ready to whip the sugary bandit for coaxing him into such a mess, the sudden brush of lips catches him. Hmph! Quite off guard, too. Without the energy, much less searing need to poise effort, he can’t pull away. Hah, at least for a second ( perhaps a few more ) …ah, that’s quite enough. Like a viper, calloused fingers coil up and hide away, as if the blow entirely intended for another had betrayed and delivered death’s delightful sting to none other than him instead. What is he to do with a cheek slanted against the makeshift prop of a surface currently serving as his pillow of sorts whilst snowy lashes droop and threaten to draw the fleshy curtain over his lonely little eye swimming in blue and a touch of curiosity?

That tightness in his chest is.. comforting to say the least. Enough so that it entices the faintest hint of a smile.

❛ — Oh, my. Am I dead already? No need to lament what has already passed, hm? Perhaps I’ll tell you… sometime. Surely you came for more than just a gawk.  ❜

[arrowbound-archive-blog]

sweetfulsin: 

Gaius and Niles possessed a… similar set of skills, acquired and refined over the years of ‘working’ with hushed words & concealed identities. While most soldiers in the army trained their lives among comrades in organized training yards, they formulated their lives hiding among darkened alleys, ransacking quietly unassuming households, and other unsavory ventures.

As such, under the dying light of the day (well, as much ‘light’ Nohr can provide), when the night’s darkness has begun to drape itself onto the land, it wasn’t uncommon for them to be paired together for smaller missions (much to both of their initial vexation of having to work in a team– but orders were orders).

Tonight was one such night.

Hearing out the whispered warning, Gaius’ head turned away from peering from the edge of the doorway that opened up to the mess hall. His calmed eyes scanned Niles’ face for a moment, searching for some sort of clarification or understanding before reviewing their surroundings, for he himself didn’t catch wind of whatever caught the other’s attention.

“What’d ya’ hear, Patches?”

Ahah, the mess hall!

Just where he should have so eagerly suspected his sticky fingered little sugar thief to be wasting away. Well, well. It seems their mess is.. messier than anticipated, sticky thick and dripping with opportunity, hehe! Or rather, where he was quite intent ( supremely infatuated ) with such an idea. What sort of ever exhilarating rush does one derive from endlessly dipping his greedy hands into everyone else’s sweets? Last he near sighted and conveniently heard ( ah, a little Hoshidan bird told him! ) Gaius isn’t quite the touchy type, oh no. Much more dip into his own sweetness than that of another.

Perhaps he dipped in too far this time. Aw, what a shallow bore. Here a certain lingering cretin donning that trademark eyepatch known far and ( fearfully ) wide throughout camp and kingdom alike makes his roaming grounds on this fine night- and what better than with a dagger in hand ready to take a hungry bite out of the first unsuspecting ( deserving ) throat? Everyone is ripe for the kill, ahem…picking after all. Alas, with the sugary moth caught in his deceptive web, he looms a mere few steps closer, silver brandished in moonlit wake just before danger conveniently slips away and he properly exposes himself.

Want to know that badly, does he? With a killer still making messy marks at naughty large, he wonders just how it might make Gaius feel knowing his name in particular was next to fall from such threat inlaid lips, mm! Oho, this is rich. Like taking candy from a babe, truly. …and this time, the babe just so happens to be him. Hah!

❛ — Not so fast. If you want my juicy bits you’ll need to offer me something of equally tasty value in return. What say, oh, I know.. bake me a batch of your delicious cupcakes and I promise to spill just for you. Deal~?  ❜

[acieral]

✿?

39. Kiss Along the Hips

     Eyes alight upon a purple splotch stretched across the bandit’s hips, bringing a frown to the prince’s features. He hadn’t meant to hurt Gaius--truly he hadn’t, but he knows, too, that his track record for accidentally injuring a sparring partner--no matter how small the wound--doesn’t quite paint an optimistic portrait. 

    It’s without thinking that his hands rest against the mark for the briefest of moments, before lips are pressed against the same spot. Whoops. He jerks backwards, feeling blood rush to his features because he probably shouldn’t have done that.

   “Er...” A hand reaches for the back of his neck, sheepish smile tugging at his lips. “Sorry. It’s just...Emm used to do that for Lissa and me when we were kids...”