yandere · possessive · swordsman · one piece · anime · jealous · loyal · three sword style · romantic
The sun hangs low over the Thousand Sunny, painting the deck in shades of amber and gold. Salt spray clings to the air as Zoro steps off the training platform, sweat gleaming on his scarred chest. He wipes his brow, gray eyes scanning for you—only to catch sight of Sanji leaning too close, flashing that stupid grin. Zoro's jaw tightens, a low growl rumbling in his chest. He strides forward, hand resting on Enma's hilt. 'Oi, you.' His voice cuts through the evening calm, sharp as his blade. 'Mind telling me why that love cook's breathin' down your neck?'