#germa ball

[deecotan]

Hey, I like your art style can you please do like a comic where Sanji sister finding out that she's gonna be the aunt cause I really like to see the reaction

sorry for the rather somber atmosphere... it's just in any zosan lovechild AU that is not the "sora lives" universe, i see reiju still keeping a distance when zosan's child is born because she's still with the vinsmokes or any other reason. or at least in the beginning anyway, one day she might finally give a chance on being part of sanji's life again -- once she finds a way how.

[benevolentcannibal]

The final intruder

[medicus-mortem]

pxison: @pxison

Even under the pressure of stares the duo was as composed as can be given the circumstances only they seemed aware of. Eventually however as the good old doctor proved himself gentlemanly by offering an arm, the stares lessened in intensity which allowed them to slip away with less of a stir than she'd figure there'd be. On the way out, she snatches up a fresh pair of drinks by their thin necked stems off a moving chauffeurs tray without so much as a spill. Entering out onto the balcony, she hands one off to Law and keeps the other close to her chest. She'd already been drinking a bit tonight but having some more didn't hurt especially given how dulled the affect had on her. "So, what are you doing here? I didn't think a stuffy party like this was your style." She made sure to keep her voice low tempted as she was to confront his dual identities he was rolling with; she could at least prod at his intentions without raising suspicion if she was overheard. If he had been here as the fabled surgeon of death, he wouldn't have bothered with any sort of pleasantries at all. There had to be something he was after that necessitated a certain level of stealth and part of her, a side that was indoctrinated throughout the years, tensed at the idea of it having to do with Germa. "I can't imagine it's anything good, should I be worried?" She spoke lightly and a little half-heartedly at the possibility of needing to be concerned of anything. She was torn, if he was taking aims at the rest of the family, she did have expectations to defend them while on the other hand letting cracks form along the foundations of Germa so that one day it may crumble all together was too tempting. Ah well, it was up to Law to decide if he'd fill her in or not and she'd be keeping an unreadable eye on him all the while.

   With the curtains now hiding him from view the doctor relaxes his posture. He doesn’t stand as refined as he does, his stride more casual and less proper. He moves closer to the balustrade, moving away from the doors so their conversation can’t be so easily over heard. Law turns to the Germa princess, accepting the glass of champagne she offers. He doesn’t drink, not just yet, but he does give a smile at her query. It’s the gentle, disarming smile of a good doctor.

   “Oh, on the contrary. This is the perfect scene for one Dr Herz. So many wealthy patrons who might be interested in funding my medical research,” he says, voice somehow lighter than usual. Then the doctor pauses and his hand rises to pluck the glasses from his face. He folds them carefully, tucking them into a pocket. His next words are deeper and missing any sense of refinement. “But yeah, not truly my scene.”

   He could tell Reiju his real reasons here but he doesn’t think she’ll take kindly to them. Wanting to spy on her family so he can find what they’re up to and perhaps locate a weakness? Sure, Reiju doesn’t agree with the Vinsmokes and their agenda but they are her family and she still has a duty to them. He gets it, after all Trafalgar Law understands the lot of an older sibling. So, he just gives her a shrug and leans back against the railing. He sips his drink, eyes with their grey contacts lowering to regard the glass in his hand.

   “Kinda doesn’t matter what my goal was now. I’ve fucked up the plan. Brought attention to myself and revealed myself to a potential enemy,” he states. He takes a breath, eyes rising to once again focus on Reiju. “Seems like a great time to forget about it and just have a little fun, yeah?”

   There is a hopeful note in his voice then. He gives Reiju a smirk and he finds himself not too disappointed by his failure to stick to plan. If she decides to play hooky with him than this could still be a night well worth the effort. Reiju’s presence tends to do that to him.

[lemon-lime-behavior]

Rambling about French Sanji, ignore me

So it's pretty well accepted that Sanji's, like, french. Oda said that's the nationality he had in mind making him, he looks and acts pretty stereotypically french, and so we're all having a ball making him obnoxiously French (derogatory (affectionate)) and having him say merde and eating baguettes and what have you.

What we're all less in agreement on is if the Frenchitude came from Germa or Zeff (or both???)

Because unless Zeff is from the north blue too then it would need to be one or the other, right? But its hard deciding between them in my head because they both have interesting points....

Like on one hand if Zeff is the French influence that's good because the association with fancy cooking is part of the joke, and if Sanji's gonna go around being all French at people it would make more sense that he's emulating the behaviors of the father he actually likes, whereas if it was Germa culture he'd be more likely to try and suppress it.

On the other hand if Germa was supposed to be One Piece France that would make being One Piece French a more unconscious and implicit part of his identity, rather than something adopted. It makes French his native language which is what a lot of people are going for in their fanworks, and I do think Germa is supposed to be a bit reminiscent of France, or at least western European monarchies in general.

I guess I come down on the side of preferring Zeff to be French and Sanji just getting a basic grasp of the language from him. Enough to swear and name his fancy kicks. I prefer to imagine Germa being a bit more, well, germanic. Maybe even a smidge nordic.

Bah I don't know, it's sticky. The people who say fuck it and make Zeff Sora's long lost brother are probably the smartest among us.

[syrupfog]

“Let’s make someone happy today.”

Sanji’s mom is getting sick and she says, “let’s make someone happy today.”

She teaches Sanji how to dig in the garden for the freshest vegetables, gifting them to the kitchen staff to make their dinner prep easier.

Sanji’s mom hasn’t been able to get out of her bed in weeks and she says, “let’s make somebody happy today.”

She teaches Sanji to bake a cake, messy and sweet and staining her sheets, and they share it among the maids and kitchen staff.

Sanji’s mom is gone and Sanji is down in the dungeons, heavy helmet clamped around his head. “Let’s make someone happy today,” he whispers.

He makes meagre meals, clean as he’s able, and feeds them to the mice. Someone gets to be happy.

Sanji runs and gets stuck on a rock and starves and survives. He has nightmares. Waking up with a racing heart and tears in his eyes, he shakily repeats, “let’s make someone happy today.”

The staff at the Baratie wake up to the smell of a breakfast fit for royalty.

Sanji travels and fights and finds his place on the Straw Hats, and there are more good days than bad.

But then nothing happens.

“Let’s make someone happy today,” he tells himself like a mantra as he cooks up a feast and wishes and will that stupid swordsman to just wake up.

Three days turn into two years and Sanji misses them misses them misses them. “Let’s make someone happy today,” he says as he grits his teeth and pulls on the stupid dress that doesn’t even compliment his waist

Sanji is wanted only alive.

“Let’s make someone happy today,” he says with a robotic steadfast perseverance as he cooks and cooks and cooks, desperate to at least make one solitary person happy as his bracelets clink on his wrists.

That one solitary person says she’s going to kill him at the altar.

“Let’s make someone happy today” echoes inside his chest like a pebble bouncing down a well, as he looks down at all of his crewmembers’ favourite dishes, destroyed and muddy.

“Let’s make someone happy today,” Sanji repeats to himself as he stirs the soba, his mind continually turning back to that broken canister with the 3 inscribed on the side. Turning back to that gap in his memory.

“Let’s make someone happy today.”

“Let’s make someone happy today.”

“Let’s make someone—“

The world is grey. It’s shades of black and white and Sanji’s eyes are glazed over.

He doesn’t understand what the big deal was. Doesn’t understand why these pirates are still coming after him. He’s already critically injured two of them— he has to get back, to give his report.

He remembers them, of course, but he doesn’t CARE. They are statistics in his mind. He has to get back to Germa, he’s been requested.

He swipes with a stolen sword at the green haired man, who parries and attacks with three.

He underestimated him.

There’s a sword through his chest, clean through his heart, and bIood pouring like water.

Let’s make someone—

Let’s—

“Cook! Twirly brows! S-SANJI!”

“Let’s make someone happy today.”

Sanji stands in the kitchen of the Sunny, balancing on the balls of his feet with the sway of the ocean, and he pours two full cups of saké, sliding one across the counter.

There’s an ache in his chest, a scar over his heart.

“I’m not happy,” Zoro growls, not touching the saké.

Sanji frowns. “It’s the good stuff,” he says. “The stuff I hide from you.”

“I don’t give a fuck,” Zoro says. “You can’t just make a situation better by bribing me. I had to KILL YOU.”

“And now I’m back,” Sanji says, his hand ghosting over his chest where the shirt hides his scar. “This is thanks.”

“I’m not drinking it.”

“Well what DO you want?” Sanji asks, exasperation in his tone.

It’s the only thing that makes bad days okay.

Let’s make someone happy today.

Everything’s okay as long as he can make someone happy. He HAS to be able to make someone happy.

“I don’t want booze,” Zoro snaps. “And I don’t want your shit cooking.”

Sanji wants to snap at him but there’s a lump forming in his throat. He has to— to make someone—

What is he supposed to do, then?

Zoro stares him down, deep bags under his eyes. “I don’t want any of that shit,” he says.

Sanji’s shoulders hunch. He stares at the counter. The untouched saké.

“I want to know this won’t happen again,” Zoro says.

“I don’t— C“No,” Zoro cuts him off. “Not that! I want to know you’re not going to come to me again to ask me to fucking kilI you!” He leans forward and grabs Sanji’s wrist, his grip bruising.

“I don’t give a shit about the stuff you’re offering,” he says. “I want YOU. Here. Safe.”

hopper says it’s gone,” Sanji rasps. “Out of my system. Thanks to you—”

The tears behind sanji’s eyes fall unbidden. “Well you’ve got me,” he says. “Does that make you—“

Happy?

Zoro’s grip is unwavering. He leans forward and captures Sanji’s lips with his; rough, firm, reassuring.

He pulls back and glares at Sanji.

It’s a meaningful glare, if there ever was one.

Let’s make somebody happy today.

Sanji wipes the tears from his cheeks and downs his own cup of saké.

“Fine,” he says. “You’ve got me. Here. Safe.”

Zoro cracks a smile. “Good,” he says. “Asshole.”

“Let’s make someone happy today.”

[phoenixyfriend]

Hi please consider: Vivi and Sanji are, ostensibly, of the same social class.

Vivi and Sanji are arranged into a marriage.

Vivi's assistant/secretary/handmaid is Nami. Sanji's bodyguard (which he doesn't need but it's a whole situation about being royal) is Zoro.

Technically, for Reasons, Zoro and Nami also get married. On paper.

Every night one of each duo hops the fence, high fives, and goes off to do ZoSan and NaVi shipping instead. (You know, like this post about Mercutio and Romeo.)

Arranged royal marriages but make it shenanigans instead of Sad.

Admittedly I'm not super into NaVi but I am a fan of Zoro and Nami as a duo and I think them bearding for each other would be hilarious.

It's not about military support like the Big Mom thing; Germa want to exchange their tech (desalination plants) to Alabasta for raw materials (beach-beaten sand, used for concrete).

God, this would work out so well for all of them.

Nami is so weird about girls that the flirty friendship just gets treated as Normal, especially since Vivi is fairly shy about romance.

Sanji is ludicrously over the top about girls and will dote on his wife, publicly, at volume, even if they're not in romo.

Vivi gets a marriage that her royal court will allow, to a friend who gets to leave a bad situation, and they can both live with it.

Sanji and Zoro will fight like the bitches they are.

Nami and Zoro will oscillate between saltmates and a dynamic that really has people making "Ah, the old ball and chain, huh?" jokes because of the whole debt thing.

BECAUSE SOMETIMES TOXIC HET MEMES MAKE IT SO YOU DON'T EVEN HAVE TO TRY TO BE IN LOVE

Sanji and Vivi are doing their best to sell it (it's easy, they aren't expected to be in love, they're already friends), while Nami and Zoro, despite actually being friends who would die for each other, are leaning into toxic heterosexuality for the gag.

They want people to suggest couples counseling.

They want to be so toxic that people get concerned.

Someone tries to hand Zoro a pamphlet about financial abuse and he just takes one look, stares them in the eye as he puts it in the trash or shredder, and then says "I can't read."

And leaves.

(Which is not a funny subject, but is a funny reaction.)

Nami: I have a great sense of direction and he has no sense of direction at all. Nami: I'm fun and he's no fun at all. Nami: I've got tons of money and he's got none at all. Nami: We can both drink the rest of the world under the table. Nami: We complete each other.

"That's not a basis for a relationship." "It isn't? Shame."

[angel-eyes05]

only until midnight

pairing: prince charming!opla!sanji x cinderella!afab!reader

summary: after reaching your limits with your life at home, your outlook on life changes after meeting a certain stranger in the woods. your paths are destined to meet again at the king's ball later this week, but he seems to be more than what meets the eye. lucky for him, you are too.

warnings/info: nsfw (thats later in the fic though, so i'll mark it off when to stop reading, and when you can continue if you still want to read. the smut isn't integral to the plot i was just feeling horny lmao), THIS IS AN AU!!! if you dont like that this fic isnt for you lol, cinderella au, slight angst, lots of fluff after the smut, smoking (pipe cause its like the 1700s), first time/virgin reader, unprotected piv (wrap it up guys), reader's been through shit, no use of y/n (it kinda works cause he's not supposed to use her name and shit lol)

word count: 6.3k words

notes: i got this idea cause im playing grace in rodgers and hammerstein's cinderella and i was like ykw this would be really cute with sanji. i picked live action sanji because of 1) im more attracted to him than animated sanji lol 2) the british accent feels right for a prince 3) i dont know enough about him post time skip to like feel good enough to write for him (im only on sabaody). also ik the obvious look here is just to make the kingdom germa kingdom but again i don't know enough about post time skip one piece to write about it in confidence so im doing just a random kingdom in an au. the kingdom isnt even the main focus of this so it doesnt matter!!! also i didn't proofread, i didnt have the energy i finished this at 1 am my bad chat. lol enjoy

dividers by: @cafekitsune

It seemed as if the dirt was superglued down to the floor. As a part of your daily chores, your stepmother had ordered you to scrub the entire house floor until it was spotless. This one speck of dirt had decided to be particularly devilish with you and your consistent scrubbing. You let up from the brush, leaned back, and wiped the sweat brewing on your forehead. Some days were harder than others. The past eight years had been more of the same ordeal. Your father had married particularly quick after your mother’s illness took her, always leaving a sour taste in your mouth when you would linger on the thought. The woman had an interesting demeanor to her. She was sweet yes, but always with a twinge of condescension. She brought with her two young daughters, about your age. They were less deceptive of their malice, teasing you whenever your parents weren't looking. It wasn’t picture perfect, but then nothing was now without your mother. This was just your new reality, and you accepted it with grace and humility.

Then it happened. News came back to your house about a carriage crash involving your father. The image of your stepmother crumbling to the floor as the news was delivered was burned into your mind. Your family had to adapt fast, the house was in a vulnerable position now without a patriarch. The house staff was fired due to lack of funds, materials downsized, and tensions were thick with your new family. Drowning in grief and head of house duties, your stepmother never found the time to clean, and your stepsisters? Well let’s say they weren’t involved in that conversation from the start. You found yourself naturally taking the duty up on yourself. First it was just cleaning the dishes. It slowly grew as time went on, you had gone from daughter to maid. When your stepsisters would make your job harder for you, you would attempt to reach out to your stepmother for a glimpse of hope. Her beginning response was just ignorance, but as your chores became larger and larger, she turned into gas to fuel her daughters’ fire. As if matters couldn’t get any worse, your name was soon taken, along with your dignity and freedom. Bored today, your stepsisters found themselves brewing a new nickname for you.

“I got it!” The short one shrieked from the cushioned chair. The other quickly turned face her in excitement. “Cinderella!” There was silence for a bit, as taller one looked at her confusedly. The short one groaned. “Because shes always covered in soot and cinder from the fireplace.” The tall one took a second to think about it. “That’s too confusing. Plus it doesn’t have anything to do with her name! It has no ring to it.” “Well I’d like to see you come up with something better!” The short one retorted. “You don’t think I can do it?!” The tall one stood up in anger. You tried to block them out as you mopped the floor of the room around them.

“Watch it! You’re going to get my shoes wet with your dirty mop water!” The short one shouted. Blocked them out too much now. “My mistake,” you said, dully. “Ugh, you would think she’s a zombie or something,” the tall one groaned. You could tell your day was about to get worse when you heard the click of your stepmother’s heels entering the lounge room. “What’s all this ruckus you girls are making?” She asked, annoyed. “Oh mother I’ve got it! I’ve got her nickname!” The short one bounded out of her seat. “Don’t listen mother, it’s dreadful there’s no melody to it!” The tall one intruded. They began throwing hands at each other and yanking on the other’s hair. This was almost a daily occurrence when they began arguing. The shrieks had dulled your ears. Almost on routine, your stepmother raised her hand to cease the show. “Continue my dear,” she gestured to the short one. “We should call her Cinderella! Because she’s always around the fireplace!” 

The fire brewing in your stomach grew to a burst. “Stepmother please, they’ll only stop if you tell them so!” You exploded. The stepsisters gave an almost comedic gasp at your rare outburst. All your stepmother needed to do to get you back to your work was give you once glance worth daggers. She cleared her throat after the ordeal. “Girls, please try to keep the bickering to a minimum if you can, I’m trying to work out arrangements to the ball later this week.” Your sisters immediately started cheesing and cheering after hearing the news. 

You had almost forgotten about the event. The king was growing old of age, and with all his daughters married off to other kingdoms, his last hope for an heir was his unmarried son. The prince, the youngest of the king’s children, and the only son: Prince Sanji Vinsmoke. This ball was open to all the women in the kingdom. A playground for him to pick his new bride. Everyone and anyone had the chance, so of course the entire kingdom had been gushing about it over the past month.

Why bother though, you were most likely just going to be stuck in the house again that night. Your stepmother always found new ways to keep you busy on ball nights. “If you two keep quiet for the rest of the day, I will ensure you have the most beautiful dresses among the crowd,” your stepmother promised her daughters. They cheered and jumped into their mother for a hug. You couldn’t help but turn away from the sight, an ache growing in your heart, longing for your own mother back. “As for you,” she turned to face you and look you straight in the eye. “I need you to go into the market immediately and pick up some silk and lace to give to the seamstress for your sisters.” You nodded compliantly. “Yes stepmother,” you managed to speak. “No. It’s ‘Yes Ma’am.’ We’ve discussed this. Is that understood?” You nodded again. “Yes ma’am.” The woman smirked. “Thank you, Cinderella.” She exited the room, her daughters snickering to themselves and following her out.

You dropped the broom by instinct, hands too shaky to keep it steady in them. You covered your mouth to conceal the incoming sobs. You moved swiftly through the house out to the back where the horses were rounded up. You ripped a basket off the shelf outside, flopped on top of the horse, and whisked off into the backyard woods. You couldn’t help but let out your sobs. It was too much for you to take. You were trapped and things were only getting worse. You pulled on the reins of the horse to slow down. Once it slowed to a halt, you dismounted and tied the reins to a nearby tree branch. You walked to the center of the woods, and let out an ear piercing scream. You screamed until your vocal cords began to itch. It was the only way to let out your anger. You couldn’t explode on your family. The results of that were already clear. You didn’t want to explode on yourself. So the woods had become your sanctuary. A place to let it all out. After the noise could no longer physically leave your mouth, you flopped down to the floor and pulled your knees into your chest. Sobs left your mouth as tears flooded your eyes and pooled down your face. You just wanted your old life back. Your parents. Your freedom and dignity. Your name. 

The rustling of leaves nearby woke you from your breakdown. You lifted your head from your knees to find a man approaching from about 30 feet away. You immediately shuffled to your feet and looked at him bewildered. You picked up a sharp rock from the floor in self defense. “Woah, woah, woah! I mean you no harm I swear! I was just passing through!” The man defended, putting his hands up by his chest. The two of you circled each other at a safe distance for a little bit. He didn’t seem to mean any harm, dressed as a simple farm boy. His golden hair was too long, his bangs covering his left eye. He was fairly tall and skinny too, just enough meat on his bones, especially near his toned legs. What stuck out to you the most was the kindness in his eyes. Well, the kindness mixed with current fear. You were so enwrapped with observing him, you forgot you were currently threatening his life. You dropped the rock to the floor, and walked over to sit on a fallen tree log. He watched you for a little bit before you signaled him over to sit next to you. 

He wandered along over and took a seat down next to you, still keeping a safe distance though. “I was out riding when I heard a scream, so I decided to follow it. It went on for a while, so it was easy to track. I thought someone was in trouble,” he explained. “I’m fine,” you shot out. “The red in your eyes and your horse throat suggests differently.” You sighed and cupped your face in your hands. It stayed silent for a bit. Eventually, the man went into his pocket and pulled out a box of matches and a pipe filled with tobacco. Your head lifted up from your hands to watch his process. He struck the match and lit the tobacco, waited for the smoke to form, and then sucked it out of the stem. His eyes closed as he blew out a beautiful puff of smoke. He then turned to look at you and held out the pipe. With some reluctance, you took the pipe from his hands, held the stem up to your lips, and sucked out the smoke. Of course holding it in for too long, you coughed the lingering smoke out.

The man smiled and scooted in closer to you to hold your back as you coughed and took the pipe away. Once your lungs calmed down, you turned to look at him as he was admiring you. “Better?” He kindly asked. You nodded softly. He smiled and took another inhale of smoke before putting the pipe away. “And what would such a beautiful maiden you be doing out in the woods all by herself?” He inquired. You smiled at how cheesy the compliment was. “I could ask the same thing about you.” You both chuckled. He was the first one to explain. “Well I was just out for an afternoon ride, when your shriek took me off my path. And now, here we are I guess.” You nodded slightly and turned to look at the floor. 

“You still haven’t told me why you were screaming,” he mentioned. You sighed. “Just that sort of day I guess.” He nodded. “It just…gets too much sometimes.” As you felt your eyes welling up again, you also felt his hand rest upon yours. You turned to look up at him, a soft smile resting on his face. Naturally, your head fell onto his shoulder, and his head onto yours. You two spent a while like this. “Well, a pretty girl like you shouldn’t be using all her voice up like that. Whoever it was that hurt you like this doesn’t deserve that much energy from you,” he consoled. You couldn’t help but blush a little bit. You had no idea who he was, yet you felt so comfortable with him. “You know, you still haven’t told me your name,” he said, lifting up his head. You lifted up yours as well to look at him. “Oh, um I-.”

You were cut off by the sound of trumpets coming increasingly closer. “Shit,” he said under his breath, scampering up off the log. You looked up at him confused. Was he in trouble with the palace law? Before you could ask any questions, he asked “Are you attending the King’s Ball?” Damn it. You would become a laughing stock to him, most likely being the only girl in the kingdom not attending. “Can’t we just see each other in the market tomorrow?” you suggested. “No, it has to be there,” he shot out. You thought to yourself for a second. Maybe with some extra chores, your stepmother would finally allow you. With hesitation, you finally answered. “Yes.” He smiled to himself. “I hope I shall see you there.” He seemed to move back towards you again, but halted as the trumpets began to blare again. “Have a good day madame!” he exclaimed, bolting off into the distant forest. You stood up as you watched the mystery man escape from your life. 

The woods seemed to disappear around you as your heart fluttered. The first person to show you kindness in eight years and you didn’t even catch his name. Stupid. You were snapped out of your daze when the sound of approaching horse hoofs stopped behind you. Three palace soldiers on horses stood behind you as you turned and curtseyed to greet them. “Good afternoon men,” you greeted. They bowed their heads in return as a sign of respect. The Captain of the Royal Guard was the one in very front. “Pardon the intrusion, but we’ve been in search of His Royal Highness. He seemed to slip away from his fencing lessons earlier this afternoon and the king has been worried sick. Villagers said they saw him passing by through the woods just a moment ago. Have you seen him?”

Oh my god. It occurred to you that you had been so cooped up in the house you had no idea what the prince looked like. That couldn’t possibly had been him back there though. He would have no business around some low life like you. “Do you possibly have a picture of His Highness?” You asked. One of the guards in the back searches through his satchel and pulled out a portrait of the Royal Family. You walked up and took it, examining the prince’s face. You would’ve thrown up right there and then if it weren't for the fact you were trying to help him escape. But those eyebrows in that photo were unmistakable. It was him alright. You just smoked off of the prince’s pipe. “No, I do apologize, but I don’t recognize him,” you said. The captain simply nodded. “Thank you ma’am. As you were.” He bowed his head as him and his men rode off. 

Shock pulled your heart from out of your chest and into your throat. You could hardly believe yourself. That must have been why he was so insistent on you attending the ball. But why? What could he possibly see in someone like you? 

There was only one way to figure out. You went over to your horse, untied him from the tree, and rode off into town, with a new goal. You had to attend that ball.

The week had practically zoomed by. You had the house to yourself most days, your stepmother and stepsisters always out at the market place trying on dresses for the ball. This time was mostly spent either practicing dancing, or sewing up your own dress. There wasn’t much material in the house, and god forbid you take one of the dresses from your sisters, so you took scraps of fabric from your mother’s dresses and pieces of fabric in drawers around the house to make your own. It took about the rest of the week to make, spending laborious hours towards its construction. The final product was a pink gown. It wasn’t nearly nice as your stepsisters’ gowns, but it would suffice for the evening. 

The night came and your stepmother and sisters could be heard shuffling downstairs preparing to get into the carriage. “Wait! I’m coming too!” you shouted down to them. They turned around and looked at you in shock. “Mother you can’t let her!” the tall stepsister shouted. “Yes it’s too humiliating to be seen with her! You can smell the soot from a mile away!” her sister rebounded. Their mother held their hand up, shushing them up immediately. “Now girls, if she would like to join us, that’s well up to her to decide. She’s a grown woman just like the two of you.” The girls looked at her in shock. Your eyes glimmered in hope. It was finally working, all your hard work had finally paid off. Your stepmother smiled at you. Something felt off though. Her eyes had that glint of malice in them. That glint whenever she was about to do something truly horrible. 

“Now Cinderella, where did you get this dress from?” she inquired. “Oh, I used materials from my mother’s dresses and some fabric around the house,” you hesitated to reply. “Hm.” She stared at you, circled you like a shark for a moment. “Darling, come here.” The short one stood next to her mother, looking up at you. “Isn’t her dress lovely?” the woman asked. Your stepsister rolled her eyes a bit. “Yes mother,” she groaned out. “You can really see the attention to detail.” She traced her finger along one of your chiffon sleeves. “Like these sleeves. This beautiful pink fabric. Darling, don’t you have a fabric like this in your closet?” Your heart dropped. You could see where this was going fast. Your sister took a moment to observe the sleeve. She gasped. “You little witch, I bought this fabric its mine!” She ripped both sleeves off your dress. All you could do was stand there, mouth agape and watching in horror. The tall one walked up next. “And these pearls were in my drawer!” She ripped them off your neck. 

Within the next 30 seconds, your sisters found some excuse to tear of each piece of fabric off your dress. You tried desperately to get them off you, but it was no use. Through the chaos, you could see your stepmother smirking by the door. Your eyes welled up with water as you could do nothing but watch. “Girls, girls!” your stepmother called out. “That’s quite enough!” The girls stopped, hair ratted, looking at what they had done to you. The tall one was smiling. The short one had the slightest bit of remorse in her eye. But it disappeared as soon as they collected themselves and walked out the door to the carriage. Their mother was about to follow them out the door. Before, she stopped. “Just as I said. Going to the ball is up to you. You’ll just have to decide if you want to go with a dress or not.” You couldn’t even say a word to her. “Goodnight, my dear.” She closed the door. 

The silence of the foyer was choking you. You mindlessly shuffled to the backyard. Disassociated beyond belief, you took a seat on a bench outside. The tears came out naturally, without you even making a sound. It was all gone. The chance at a normal life. Just go to outside and feel like a human being for the night. To see him again. He wasn’t even at the front of your mind for once. You just wanted to curl up and disappear.  

Out of the corner of your eye, a silver glimmer could be seen on the other side of the yard. You wiped your eyes and looked up to see a tall woman, in a beautiful white ballgown, a glowing wand in her hand, and..were those wings? You must be hallucinating, theres no way. Still being dissociated during the ordeal. The woman explained she was your Fairy Godmother, and that she could send you to the ball. She created a carriage out of one of the pumpkins in the garden, coachmen and horses out of the scuttering mice, and a magical light blue ballgown for you out of thin air. The finishing touch were a pair of shimmering glass slippers. You couldn’t believe your eyes. The woman explained the details of the spell. “While the spell lasts, no one at the ball will recognize you. This will give you anonymity.” That was a relief. You were worried over your step family. Prince Sanji probably wouldn’t either. You didn’t mind though. This was just an opportunity to get out there. “The spell will also wear off by midnight. That means all of this is gone by 12:01,” she continued. You accepted the terms, and next thing you know, you were off to the ball in your pumpkin.

As you stepped out of the carriage and onto the stairs for the castle, you felt like a little girl. Living out your dream as a princess. It was too good to be true. The other girls with their husbands walked gracefully up the stairs. You seemed to have gotten there a little late, everyone in the ballroom already. You gathered your courage, and your dress, and made your way up the stairs and into the castle. The beautiful golden accents and stone pillars were a marvel for the eye. The orchestra playing was more beautiful than you could ever imagine.

As you scouted the room, you could see the row of women lined up to greet His Highness. Sanji sat bored, more cleaned up from the last time you saw him and in a white coat with gold accents, and red dress pants. His hair still covered his eye, and you could see the king swatting at him to tuck it away. Embarrassingly, you caught yourself staring at him from up upon the balcony. Get a grip. It was stupid to spend your time fantasizing over a prince. He wouldn’t even remember who you were. But your heart couldn’t help but skip a beat when you made split second eye contact with him. Before you could see him go back for a second glance, you had already made your way to wander about the rest of the palace. 

Ironically, you found yourself too nervous to dance with the other guests. You instead spent your time admiring the architecture of the castle. The grand piano in the center of one of the lounge room caught your attention. Your mother had taught you how to play when you were young, and wanting to see how well you remembered, you pulled out one of the sheets of music and began to play. Music filled the room as you became so wrapped in the passion of playing. It seemed as if hours had gone by when it was only mere seconds.

“No one’s played that old thing in years,” a familiar voice spoke. You could tell it was Sanji before even needing to turn around. You immediately ceased playing and jolted up from your seat. “Oh, I do apologize!” you shot out, frazzled.. “No, no, I’m sorry for startling you, my lady!” he interjected, walking closer to you and raising his hands up in defense. “I was just admiring the piano, Your Highness.” Remember you forgot to address him properly, you curtsey, your big dress laying on the floor, and lower you chin.

You hear his footsteps move towards you, then feel his finger as it rests underneath your chin and pull it up to face him. “Indeed.” You feel his hot breath on your face as your stomach swarms with butterflies. He’s closer to you than he intended to be. He looks at you with comforting eyes and a familiarity. That wasn’t possible though, the Fairy Godmother said the spell forbade anyone from recognizing you. You couldn’t help but wonder though what he was thinking right about now. All you could think about was how beautiful his lips looked right about now, spending moments to stare at them, as he did yours. Before anything can get too messy, Sanji clears his throat and steps away. “You played beautifully.” “Thank you, Your Highness.” “Please, call me Sanji, Your Highness is too formal.” You smiled at his suggestion.

“Do you know how to play it?” you asked him, trying to break the tension. “My father tried to get me lessons, but I had a hard time paying attention,” he said as he took a seat down on the piano bench. “I can try though.” He stretched his fingers and begun to play the melody on the sheet of paper. You took a few steps back and rested your head on the base of the piano, watching him hypnotically while he played. The was his fingers graced the keys was mesmerizing to the plain eye. Once he finished, he smiled and look up at you. “You’re blushing, my lady,” he teased. You immediately snapped out of your daze, lifted your head and cleared your throat. “Oh, my apologies.” “It’s quite alright.” Sanji looked out behind the door and noticed the music being played in the ballroom. He then bowed, reaching out his hand to you. “Would you give me the honor of joining me on the dance floor?” Your blush grew even hotter. “Oh, I’m afraid I’m not much of a dancer.” He lifted up, and took your hand in his. “Well then, I suppose we will just make the rest of the castle our ballroom.” You stared at him confused. “We can’t have anyone else see you fumbling on your feet, can we?” You both giggled childishly as he took your waist and you rested your hand on his shoulder. 

Sanji’s feet seemed to glide across the floor as he took you into a dance. You tried to match his movements, but your feet couldn’t help but stumble as you twirled along the floor. Your breath got slightly heavier as your embarrassment grew. “Are you alright, my dear?” Sanji asked with concern. “I’m sorry, I’m not very well versed with this dance,” you replied. Sanji smiled. “I guess I’ll just have to teach you.” He began to call out the movements you needed to make for the dance. “Left foot to the right, right foot forward…and twirl,” and so on and so forth. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see how hypnotically his eyes were watching you as you twirled, eyes low and tracing your figure. “See, now you’re getting it sweetheart,” he said, voice deep and low, putting butterflies in your stomach. The two of you continued to dance throughout the halls of the castle, eventually making your way to the balcony you had spotted him the first time.

It had taken a bit to remember, but it suddenly struck that you were dancing with the prince. This thought was brought back to you when you noticed every guest at the party staring at you and Sanji up on the balcony. “Sanji?” you whispered. He hummed low in response. “Everyone’s looking at you.” He chuckled under his breath. “Trust me my dear, I’m not the one they’re looking at.” You couldn’t help but blush. As you scanned the crowd, you spotted your stepmother and stepsisters. The look of jealousy in their eyes couldn’t help but make you smile. “We should go somewhere,” Sanji brought up. “Where?” you asked confused. “Away from here.” “But what about your guests?” Sanji smirked an evil look as he put his mouth just up to your ear. “I don’t think they’ll mind darling.” The butterflies were back. 

It felt as if the two of you had been dancing for hours. You had no idea what time it was, or even where in the castle you were. All you cared about was being here with him. Little girls always dream about finding their prince. They never expect it to happen when they grow up. But here you were. Swaying on the outside terrace of the castle in the moonlight. Your head rested up against his shoulder, him looking down at you, as if nothing else mattered. You and your prince. Without another word needing to be said, Sanji straightened up, took your hand, and led you into the the darkness of the yard. The two of you came across a lone gazebo in a field of tall oak trees, lit only by the moonlight and a single candle lamp. After leading you inside, Sanji shut the glass door and lit a second candle in the gazebo with a nearby match. You took a seat on the bench wrapped around the building, flattening out your massive dress as it poofed up. 

Sanji walked over next to you and took a seat, smoothing your face with his thumb. He gazed into your eyes as you smiled lovingly towards him. “My dear, may I ask you something.” You nodded softly, eyes slightly closed. “Where did you manage to get this beautiful gown.” Shit. You didn’t know what to tell him. He would never believe you if you told him the truth, you’d look like a fool. “One of the tailors at the marketplace,” you made up. He hummed and moved in closer to you. Your heart started pounding.

“I wasn’t aware your family could afford such fine fabrics. With the clothes you were wearing in the woods and such.” Your heart froze. “How did you know?” you stuttered out. It couldn’t be, there was no way. The Fairy said this was part of the spell, how could he possibly know? “I could never forget a face as beautiful as yours,” the words falling off of his tongue like honey. Before you had the time to comprehend what he said or how he could know it was you, his lips had interlocked with yours. They must have been laced with something, the way you simply seemed to melt into his touch.

His hand wrapped around your waist as he pulled you closer into him. Your hands found their way into his hair, entangling fingers between the locks. The kiss was long, sensual, as Sanji explored your mouth for the first time. All you could do was let him take the lead, your hands tracing down his neck, humming as his tongue slipped into your mouth. In a swift motion, overtaking your dress with him, he slides you on top of his lap, where his aching erection becomes noticeable incredibly quick. You could feel him throbbing, begging, beneath you. His hand fumbled down the poof of your tulle skirt, and up your bare legs as he went to feel your ass. 

As his hands went up, his mouth went down, leaving wet, sloppy kisses along your neck, sucking and marking as he went. You couldn’t help but make noise as he played with your ass like putty and sucked the essence out of your skin. “Oh could this really be happening to me,” you lowly moaned out. You could feel Sanji smiling against your neck, grabbing your ass harder in response. You could feel his cock growing bigger and his breath getting more frantic by the second. He suddenly moved his hands out of your dress, and separated his mouth from your neck, leaving a trail of saliva.

“May I?” he asked, desperation in his eyes. You froze up a little bit. “I’ve never done it before,” you warned. He paused for a moment, then nodded gently. “It’s okay, I’ll go easy.” You thought about it for a moment, then gave him a nod. With this, he effortlessly lifted you up in his arms and carried you to the gazebo floor. He laid you down gently on your back, then leaned back and unlatched his belt. He pulled his pants down ever so slightly, allowing just enough room for his cock to spring up in an almost comedic fashion. Sanji then pushed the fabric of your dress to the side as he searched for your underwear, getting closer to you. 

You see him come and lean over you, kissing the top of your slightly exposed breast as he guides his tip across your hole with his hand. He had barely inserted himself into you and you were already mewling like a wild animal. You only got louder as more of his shaft entered your dripping cunt. Your fingers dug into his back as he braced and let out a few groans of his own. “God you’re so tight…” he groaned. Once he was finally inside of you he began to slowly rock back and forth, sending waves from your cunt to your brain. 

His mouth moved back to yours as he absorbed all of your moans as his pace picked up. “So lucky I ran into the woods that day,” he gasped out between kisses and thrusts. “Your pussy’s so good. Molding perfectly to my cock.” You couldn’t even fully process what he was saying, so enwrapped in the experience at hand. You were sent into further delirium as he picked up the pace even more. Desperate for more of you, Sanji hiked up your leg onto his shoulder to get even deeper into your pussy. The bliss was overwhelming. “Go harder Sanji,” you managed to moan out. “I can take you.” Sanji couldn’t help but chuckle, but he still accepted your request, shoving more of himself into you as he slammed his tip into your g-spot. Your hand shot out to the side, grabbing at nothing but the concrete floor. Your back arched and hips buckled. This man had you at full disposal and you hadn’t even known him for a day. “Best pussy I’ve ever had,” he grunted. “Want to keep you with me forever.” As he picked his pace up again, you could feel something brewing in your lower stomach, no idea what this feeling was, but knowing it was coming fast. “S-Sanji, something’s happening,” you moaned out. He smiled and kissed your lips sloppily, like it was the last time he would. “I know my darling, just keep going for me.” 

The sounds of your ass cheeks hitting across the floor, your moans and his groans mixing into each other’s mouths, the dim lit gazebo, everything felt straight out of a porno. Your hips began to buck further as the heat continued to grow. You could tell the same thing was happening to Sanji too, his thrusts getting sloppier by the second. With the last final thrusts of his converging into your g-spot, the white heat finally rushed up the rest of your body as you experienced your first time of pure bliss and ecstasy. Your moans turned into mewls as your hand ripped at your dress for any sort of stability. As the orgasm died down, you felt Sanji’s aching cock slip out of you, as he turned away and finished on his own.

A sort of numbness scattered across your body. The experience left you exhausted, barely noticing Sanji crawling up and laying down next to you as he cleaned himself with a handkerchief and redid his pants. He planted soft, gentle kisses into your neck as he fixed you up and brought your dress back down to cover your legs. “Oh my darling you did so good,” he praised you. You looked at him, pure, unadulterated love in your eyes. “Thank you…for giving me this,” you choked out. His lips laced into yours as he hugged your hip. “I would give you all my love if you simply asked. This was just a treat.” You giggled like a little girl. He smiled back and continued to kiss you. 

In between kisses, you tried to talk to him again, but couldn’t keep from giggling as he shut you up before you could continue. “Sanji.” Kiss. “Sanji…” Kiss and giggle. “Sanji!” This time he slipped in a little bit of tongue. “Your father will be asking about you, we need to get back now.” Sanji let go and groaned like a little school boy. “Alright, fine. But only because I can give him an answer on who to marry now.” You turned to face him. “And who would that be Your Royal Highness.” The silence and the look in his eyes spoke for itself. You took a deep breath and begun to sit up, but not before Sanji could pull you back down into him for another makeout session. Your giggles interlocked with his kissing only made him fall deeper in love with you. “Alright. We can go. IF! You tell me your name finally,” he suggested. All you could do at him was laugh, his childish behavior hitting all your soft spots. “Alright,” you began “It’s-.” 

Before you could finish, you were cut off by the sound of the bell chimes from the grand bell tower at the front of the castle. How many times was that? Shit. “What’s wrong darling?” Sanji asked, sitting up. It was twelve times. You looked at him, frazzled and upset. “I’m so sorry,” was all you could manage to say as you ran out of the gazebo doors. Sanji’s face after you told him will be forever burned into your brain. 

You ran and ran and couldn’t seem to slow down. You couldn’t possibly, you had no idea how much time you had left. You made your way through the castle, Sanji close on your trails and sending guards to chase after you. You made your way down the entrance stairs and into your carriage, which you could see rotting away by the second. As you jumped in, you couldn’t help but turn around and watch the castle as you drove away. You could even see Sanji, staring longingly out for you.

This was only for one night though. You needed to get that into your head or you would run straight back to him. You had a life to live. And you needed to go back to fulfill your duty. But this one night. This one perfect night. This was one you hoped to never forget. 

a/n: you know how this story ends TRUST HE FINDS HER THROUGH THE SLIPPER AND EVERYTHING ENDS UP OKAY i just really didn't feel like writing all that lmao. hope you enjoyed (i sure did lol)

[pooks]

"Alright, fine!" Ichiji snapped and regretted it when Sanji stiffened. He forced himself to take a deep breath and exhaled slowly. "Fine...we'll save them, then."

The rain slowly ceased, although they were already soaked to the bone. Luffy, their captain, looked from left to right at the brothers and yet, he said nothing. Perhaps he understood that this particular discussion was between him and Sanji? Who knows when their captain's mind was a puzzle that was impossible to solve?

"We'll do it your way, then." Ichiji said. "But remember this, Sanji. I am not saving Judge or those two ingrates for their sake. Not for them and not for Germa. I'm doing this for you. I would gladly let them rot. I'm not oew Judge anything, not after what he did to Mother, not after what he did to me and certainly not after what he did to you. But I love you more than my own life. If you want to save their pitiful lives, then...I'll do it. For you."

Sanji was the one with a pure heart. His goodness came second to their mother's, whom Ichiji remembers as the symbol of unconditional love.

As for Ichiji...he had always known that he'll burn in hell. He was a sinner. A monster and yet...he wanted to become a human. He was born as an unforgivable monster, he has raised his hands to hurt Sanji and abused him through fists and words. He has spent the last thirteen years atoning for his sins; to cherish, protect and love Sanji and he'll continue to do that until he died.

"Ichiji. You're also a human, you know." Luffy suddenly said with a straight expression directed at the redhead.

He gritted his teeth. Lies...a voice in his mind, which sounded a lot like Judge, hissed. He's lying, you're an irredeemable monster. You're a weapon, Germa's pride and the next king. Your mother is dead because of you...you raised your hands against your brother and watched him waste away in the dungeons. You're a sinner!

"I'm not a human, I'm a monster pretending to be someone else!" Ichiji snapped. "I deserve to be executed for my crimes!"

"Take that back!" Sanji suddenly yelled at him. He jumped up onto his feet with balled fists, trembling shoulders and tears running down his face. "Take those words, you've done more for me than those scum!"

"You don't know anything!" Ichiji shouted at him, ignoring how tears welled up in his eyes. "I beat you up! I yelled at you, insulted you! I kicked you when you were down and crying! I said you were a failure, I said that I hated you and I wished you gone! You're supposed to hate me, you idiot!"

"You don't hate me." Sanji said. "If you hated me...then you wouldn't have taken my hand and escaped to the Orbit with me. You wouldn't have nearly starved to death at that fucking rock! You wouldn't have held me and comforted me everytime I had a nightmare or when I caught a cold! You wouldn't had joined me to become a pirate...and you wouldn't have fought by my side at every fight. You wouldn't have nearly died for my sake...if you hated me." Sanji inhaled shakily and his next words made Ichiji feel cold with dread.

"You wouldn't had made a deal with Judge and let him torture you for six months, if you hated me."

His normally cool temper exploded.

"HOW DO YOU KNOW THAT?!" Ichiji bellowed at him with tears running freely down his face. His chest felt tight, breathing felt difficult and images of painful memories, filled with agony and misery, filled his mind. "I made sure that you would never know what I did! Why do you know that?!"

"Reiju told me what you did...after I woke up in the dungeons." Sanji said without missing a beat. "You let yourself become tortured, let Judge do so many experiments on you and abused you as "training". Reiju said that you were willing to endure all that, just so I could be free again."

Sanji's next words became the last strike to shatter the walls Ichiji had built around himself.

"If you really was a monster...then you wouldn't be in so much pain."

Ichiji lost all feeling in his legs, letting his knees collapse and meet the soaked ground. He opened a mouth to speak, but he had no words left. His hands grasped at the wet grass.

Conceal your emotions, don't feel them. Don't show them. Don't feel-

"Niisan." Sanji said, his voice filled with warmth and compassion.

Just like Mother...

Before he knew it, Ichiji was sobbing pitifully like a lost child. Hands flew to his face, covering his mouth and failing to surpress those noises. Years of pent up grief and pain finally caught up to him. He was never allowed to grieve Mother, he couldn't let himself shed tears and mourn the loss. He could remember how much everything hurt when he was strapped down on the examination table, when he screamed in agony and cried for his mother. How it felt like every nerve was set on fire.

"...I want to go home." Ichiji sobbed. "I-I miss my books, my typewriter, all my quills and fountain pens...I miss the aquarium, Brook's violin songs a-and the smell of your cooking. How everyone laughed and joked everyday. I miss the sea breeze and the sound of the ocean waves." He inhaled shakily. "Sanji...I want to go home to the Sunny too..."

Two things happened at once and it took him a long moment to process it.

Sanji had rushed to him, embracing him in his arms and Luffy had taken off his hat, pressing it down on Ichiji's red hair.

The captain nodded firmly and smiled at the two brothers. Not Vinsmoke, but adoptive sons of Red Leg Zeff. His cook and his archivist.

Monkey D. Luffy cracked his knuckles and grinned. "Let's crash the wedding! Then we'll go home!"

[thatweirdfandom]

my fix it one piece headcannons

(besides hot gay sex, proper skin tones ((this is also in the fix it)))

-sanji gets trapped on a rock for his timeskip- this is how he learns to skywalk and ends up on kambaka

just imagine one of the main horrible things that has ever happened to him and he’s back. how long is he going to have to wait? he’s stuck for how long? no. not this time. he spends almost a month there until he sky walks to the island

he doesn’t even have time to complain or whine about the people and the front he would put on. he’s safe and that’s what matters. they take care of him and he comes to have a depose understanding and appreciation for them

he wears the clothes because he doesn’t have anything else- but he learns how to sew and makes the best dresses and outfits later on

- ussop is actually the most comfortable out of everyone with his sexuality. he has THE RIZZ he picks up anyone and everyone just being his cute flirty self

- post skip (and i’ve mentioned this before) sanji, chopped and ussop all working together one meals, and medicine!

ussop island and knowledge of plants- he brings back and is able to grow medicinal herbs, cooking herbs ect ect

sanji has left over parts to his food that can’t be cooked so he learns how to turn them into herbs, soaps, practical things

- franky only upgraded his body again because it was failing him post skip. he got by in his city after the accident- but continuing in his form with all the battles, the straw hats get into only weared down what he had for a body

- robin and sanji would absolutely have met at some point during the timeskip. iva being a top leader in the revolutionary army? hell yeah.

i imagine that robin is also the first one to know about germa and sanjis connection he would have told her. they confide in each other about how they have a similar upbringing

- i also imagine germa being on the revolutionary army’s radar for their experiments, and how this could tie into ceaser earlier that the kid experiment was actually another way for judge to test things out

it just would have made more sense to bring it up earlier/ that doffy had a connection to judge too being a ex world noble teaming up with a next higher power that has a lot of pull and rank and aligns with his ideals

- look i have a lot of beef w sanji because he’s my blorbo but i would have loved if they actually included some lead up more to his tragic backstory pt2

LIKE THE EYEBROW SWIRL only the vinsmokes have this!! how tf didnt law notice this being a goddamn fanboy

- chopper shedding- he grows fur like a sheep and you gotta shave him

i just was ussop to make beds and coats from the fur

- sanji making special meals that have stat boosts like how chopper does a rumble ball they could work on something similar esp since luffy dries up like a raisin

pt 1/?

[crepes-suzette-373]

Vinsmoke kids and "father"

I want to talk about something that I don't know if other people has ever mentioned before. Maybe someone already did, because I'm a newbie to the fandom community.

The Vinsmoke kids call Judge "father" with different levels of honorifics, with the most "warped" of the kids referring to him with the highest respect. It has to be a deliberate choice, and it's... a bit disturbing, I guess.

Ichiji, Niji, and Yonji says Chichi-ue 父上. This is a very formal and somewhat old fashioned way to say "father". It's how they talk in old samurai dramas and very lofty. Like, dad is not just "dad" that you hang out and play ball with. Dad also "rules" over you.

Reiju says Otou-sama お父様. Still very formal and respectful, but doesn't really have the same feeling of high esteem that the above does. Pretty standard for rich people speak in manga and dramas.

Sanji uses Otou-san お父さん. Basically the most pedestrian and familial version, and it's what regular everyday people use (even to this day).

It's just... the clones are all made to be submissive, and the most genetically messed-up of the kids are the ones who refers to Judge with the most respect (even if they act mostly casual/normal in front of him). That can't be coincidence, right?

Edit: Further scrutiny of honorifics used in the series seem to suggest that this might be important in regards to Germa's mysterious past or Judge's ambitions. 上 as honorific was only seen used by Skypieans, Celestial Dragons, and people of Wano.

If this is just Judge trying to aggrandise himself, then it only leads to more questions about just what it is that he's trying to do. And if this was just the traditional manner of speech in Germa (as is, Judge himself had spoken in this manner to his parents before), then something's very strange with their ancestry that needs to be scrutinised.

[asliceofzosan]

12 Days of Zosan Christmas Masterlist 2023

complete

the riceball incident (1.8k)

In which Sanji is in Shells Town when Zoro eats the rice ball off the floor

debt and doing dishes (2.4k)

In which Zoro takes the blame for not paying for the food at the Baratie

a captain's intuition (2.3k)

In which Luffy watches as his first mate grows fonder and fonder of their new cook (and vice versa)

by any other name (3k)

Nami and Usopp discover the revision on Sanji's new Wanted Poster and try to keep it from him as best as they can to prevent the world from exploding. But what they're both unaware of is that the new revision might not be as new as they originally thought.

two hearts beat (7.4k)

In order to take down the Big Mom Mafia, Zoro and Sanji must gather information by pretending to be Pudding's totally in love and definitely not fake neighbors.

if i loved you (like i'm capable of) (3.3k)

Years after having his heart broken, Sanji doesn't believe he's worthy of love anymore. Not until a certain deity of the forest says otherwise.

promises, promises (2.7k)

Sanji wants to give Zoro a special anniversary present that honors his late childhood friend.

rough hands, soft heart (1.7k)

Sanji never thought Zoro would ever be good with kids but it wasn't until Chopper joined their crew where he realized he was sorely mistaken. And it makes Sanji feel things he's trying desperately to keep at bay.

a royal disaster (5.6k)

Zoro was tasked to kill the Prince of Germa — but he decided that night to be bad at his job.

when you dream (2.4k)

There's something about the way Sanji talks about his dream that makes Zoro want to believe in it too. (tangled au)

in another world, i am yours (24.8k)

Sanji switches places with a man who plays him in a TV show about his crew. Both of them discover many things about themselves and their relationship with a certain mosshead in the process. (collaboration with @inoreuct)

he makes me laugh (1.5k)

In which Zoro learns the rarest form of intimacy in the arms of a cook.

(pending...)

warm hands with winter veins

how to be a best man for dumbasses

[inoreuct]

I'm loving your drabbles and headcanons so much, esp the hurt/comforty things, thank u for blessing my dash😭❤ if you felt like it, zoro and Sanji x how they would help the other through having a panic attack

aaaaaaa thank you anon! hurt/comfort all day every day 😔🤌🏼LESGO

sanji definitely has them more i think, considering the fuckton of things he’s gone through; not that zoro hasn’t been through some shit but you get my point. sanji had panic attacks as a kid back when he was in the cells in germa. to a certain extent i would say he's used to his body breaking down, so much so that he's learned to hide it very well. a slight increase in breathing, a little more twitchy with his gaze, maybe a very slightly bouncing leg; imperceptible to the normal person.

BUT. zoro is so attuned to him that he notices almost immediately, especially after they get together and he's paying even more attention. the first time, he's confused; sanji seems stressed. those are subtle signs of distress, but... there's no immediate threat around them that zoro can see. nevertheless he takes the cook's wrist and pulls him through a random door with one thumb ready on wado's hilt, asks him what's wrong—

and sanji breaks down. they're in the dark, quiet stockroom of some apothecary; if it had been anyone other than zoro with him he would have tried to hold it together, but zoro is fine. zoro is safe. he slides to the ground and curls up into a ball, hugging his legs to his chest and burying his face in his kneecaps even as he hears the swordsman's noise of concern. he's trembling all over, breath spiralling out of control and fuck, he doesn't even know what set him off— just that he'd started feeling smothered, cold sweat beading on the back of his neck, and then zoro had pulled him back here.

zoro's brain stalls a little. he'd seen some of the older kids at the orphanage struggle with this; panic attacks, shimotsuki sensei had told him, were not uncommon in people who had endured long periods of stress or trauma. but he'll think about the semantics later.

zoro has to ask three times, each increasingly desperate, if he can touch before sanji gives him a jerky nod; the cook's shoulders are hunched up to his ears, nails biting into his arms in a bid to ground himself, and zoro can't stand the thought of him hurting more than he already is— so he gently takes sanji's wrists as he crouches down, unwrapping his arms and sitting properly so that he can pull sanji close.

the cook shudders as he clambers into zoro's lap, graceless and hurried, hands slipping under zoro's arms to grip at his shoulders and zoro lets him cling, presses a hand to sanji's nape and the other to his spine, shifts so that his own back is against the wall.

they sit there for a long time on the stockroom floor. zoro isn't good at this, he thinks. at comfort. he tries anyway, sifts his hands through sanji's flaxen hair as he talks about everything and nothing at all, mindless murmurs as he feels tears dampen the side of his throat where sanji has decided to hide. sanji lets out a shaky breath, fingertips digging into zoro's muscle, and zoro can feel the cook's heart beating out a slowing tattoo against his own chest. his slacks are twisted around the ankle, rucked up above his stupid fancy loafers. zoro smooths them down as sanji pulls back and curls up sideways.

he is loathe to break the silence, but he asks anyway. "everything okay, cook?"

"...yeah," sanji breathes, seeming to deflate as zoro presses a kiss to his crown. "yeah, i'm good." he leans into the arm around his back and tucks his nose against zoro's collarbone, closing his eyes. zoro doesn't move and he won't until sanji wants to leave.

after that first time, zoro kind of gets it down to a routine. when sanji's about to have a panic attack he gets the cook to a quiet, dark space, sits down and talks him through it; it helps sanji to know where he is, who he is, who he's with. a lot of the times he gets set off because something tripped a memory from his past, and it rockets him right back into his childhood. sanji hates it; hates the hold that it all still has on him, but zoro is VERY insistent that his getting through it all, unscathed or otherwise, is something to be proud of.

sanji's always shaken after panic attacks, no matter how much he brushes it off. when they get back to the ship zoro bundles him up in blankets and brings him hot tea; it's a direct opposite of how he was treated back in germa. it helps. they already share a bunk most nights anyway, but on these nights especially zoro makes sure to really hold sanji close, lets the cook arrange him however he wants before they fall asleep because it's the least he can do.

it irks him. the fact that he can't fight something that's in sanji's own head, that he isn't the best at handling these types of situations— but sanji refuses to have anyone other than him for the time being, so he does what he can.

(to sanji, it's more than enough.)

now, zoro. i don't think he gets panic attacks often, but only because his body's kind of in a constant state of alert; he is so focused on being ready to fight, so high-strung, that he doesn't even have the chance to slack and slip into one.

however i think a breaking point would be if the crew was in any sort of perilous situation and he couldn't do anything to help. shit goes down and everybody's alive but he gets back to the ship and it all hits him at once.

sanji finds him sitting eerily still on the bench in the crow's nest. his leg would be bouncing but he's always had incredible awareness of and control over his body, and right now he has himself in an iron grip. his breathing is fast and laboured and his gaze is burning a hole into a spot on the wall— and sanji hovers for a second because it looks like zoro would fly apart at a single poke.

he recognises the symptoms even if they're locked down tighter than a sprung mousetrap. he climbs up gently but obviously enough that he knows zoro will notice, keeps his footsteps soft but lets his soles brush across the floor. zoro inhales sharply when sanji lays a tentative hand on his shoulder and the cook nearly pulls back, but he gives zoro a firm squeeze and sits down next to him.

they don't do much, just sitting there with their shoulders and knees pressed together, and sanji waits because he knows he can't push this no matter how much he wants to and god does he want to. his fingers twist discreetly into the covers on his free side. he wants to pull zoro to his chest and rub his back and show him that everything's alright. he needs zoro to show something other than stone-faced calm, about as convincing as a plaster mask. he needs zoro to not bottle everything in but he will not push, he won't, so he sits there and bites at the inside of his cheek.

eventually the weight on his shoulder slowly grows heavier. zoro reaches for his hand, tentative, trembling, and sanji nearly yells a prayer to whatever god he doesn't believe in. he leans over to pull zoro down and lies on his back on the bench, letting the swordsman curl around him and smoothing his palm over zoro's tense spine.

zoro's exhale is shaky. his fingers grip at sanji's shirt so tightly that the threads strain, his torso laying across sanji's stomach like a shield. sanji shifts down a little when he realises zoro's trying to get to his heartbeat; he sighs when the swordsman's palms bracket his ribcage, ear pressed above his sternum, earrings warming from being pressed against skin.

sanji rubs a thumb over zoro's hairline, kneading into his tense temples. "wanna come down for dinner?" he asks quietly, face soft as tired grey eyes peer up at him. "bet they're all waiting for you."

he knows that zoro needs proof that they're all alright. a night in the galley with gentle hands and bandages and soft laughter would do him some good. cake, if their nakama want, and spiked hot chocolate all around.

zoro grunts, burying his face back into sanji's stomach, and sanji takes that as a later. maybe a soon, if he's lucky; he needs to talk franky into giving this bench seat cushions. a soft huff ruffles zoro's hair, and sanji smooths it back into place.

they go down much, much later. sanji's spine is aching and he knows zoro feels bad about it from the palm that kneads at his lower back, but he doesn't really mind. luffy's indignance at missing dinner is mollified when sanji bakes a massive red velvet cake. nobody notices when he slips zoro an extra slice and gets a soft squeeze around the waist as thanks.

[benevolentcannibal]

His fate is sealed.

[kukurykunapatyku]

[I.D.: Drawing of Usopp and Vinsmoke Niji from One Piece. They're both seen from the side, circling around each other, Usopp is aiming his slingshot and Niji is brandishing an electrified sword. Usopp wears sniper king mask, red cape, green pants, brown shoes and blue-white arm warmers. Niji wears black cape with blue '2' on it, blue costiume and yellow-blue boots, he's smirking. /End I.D.]

Vinsmoke shipping week day 4: Red string / Hero x Villain

The neferious Germa group is terrorizing the streets, but fear not, because the great Sniper King is here to save you!

Strawhats are semi-superhero team. Luffy doesn't care about crime, it just happens that bad guys usually target his friends for some reason. Nami somehow convinced him to at least cover his face when they beat up guys on live television.

Niji gets a crush on two people at once and tries to deal with it in completly normal matter - by proving they're actually the same person (he's right).

⬇️Fanfic under readmore⬇️ also on Ao3

Niji carefully pinned the photo next to the others. He frowned, adjusted two more to fit the rest better and stepped back to admire his work. Photos, bus schedules, discarded papers, shard broken off the Sniper King mask, piece of fabric - all gathered together. There was just one thing to do and his board would be complete. He grinned, pulled out a ball of red yarn and began connecting the pins until they formed one massive web of evidence. And like a spider ready for dinner, he finally found that one fly that was pulling at its strings, and come to the single possible conclusion.

"And why, pray tell, do you think one of your regular customers is part of the superhero team? The one that always thwarts father's plans no less?"

"Don't you see?" Niji slammed the board. "It's all here!"

"All I see is an, admittingly ambitious, art project made of coincidences and stalking tendencies."

"Listen, it's too much to just be a coincidence, at this point it's proof."

Ichiji sighed and closed the book he was reading.

"Fine, lets indulge you. What proof?"

"First of, they drink the same coffee - both take exactly two sugar cubes, one puff of cream and two pumps of caramel syrup."

"Why do you know how Sniper King takes his coffee?"

Niji looked at him like he was stupid

"Because I asked him? He's my nemesis, I need to know those things."

"Your nemesis?" Ichiji stuttered. "Since when??"

"About two months ago; we were picking them, don't you remember? You took the witch."

Ichiji tapped his fingers on the table. That didn't sound right, he was sure if something like this happened he would have remembered. If they did it there must have been a purpose, but what? Battle strategies? Did father know? Was Ichiji supposed to tell him? And he picked the Weather Witch? What on earth could Niji be talking about-

Suddenly very tired, Ichiji put his hand on his face and slowly pulled it down.

"Niji. We played 'Fuck, Marry, Kill' about the Strawhats. How did this turn into nemesis thing?"

"Ain't that the same thing? Anyway, we're getting off track." He pointed at the blurry photo of a dark alleyway. "See?"

"See what?"

"Argh, do I have to do everything here? Look, here, it's Sniper's cape!"

Ichiji leaned forward and squinted. True, in the left corner, near the bins, there was something that could be a fragment of red fabric. Or an unlucky rat.

"I followed Usopp one evening and I lost him somewhere here," his finger followed one of the red lines until it reached a cutout of city's map, with big circle drawn in the middle of it. "But I'm sure he didn't walk much further, because he was carrying four of those babies." He tapped on the stock picture of an ice-cream package. "There were other shops on his way and he only stopped to buy them here." Next map had a red cross slapped on it. "Which means he was probably coming closer to home. Other stores in the neighborhood are over there, there, there and there. Since he didn't visit those, he must live somewhere before the road could reach any of them, or he would have just buy ice-cream there."

Niji looked at his brother expectantly. "See now?"

Ichiji blinked a few times. That was impressive recon work, and he could probably agree with him... If he knew what point he was even trying to make.

"So... you think the coffee guy lives somewhere between these streets." He pointed at the marked portion of the map. "But what does it have to do with your theory?"

"Everything! I just showed you, I found a piece of Sniper's cape next to the houses there, it's evidence!"

Ichiji massaged his temples and counted to ten. Did he have to do this? He could just leave. Maybe call Yonji so Niji could bother someone else.

But then, a voice in his head said, you have no excuse if father suddenly decides he wants an audience to hear about another freaking death ray.

If he had to listen to his family's ramblings...

"It's just red fabric, it doesn't necessary mean anything. Plus, your guy could be going to his friends house, or a party. Four boxes of ice-cream is a lot for one person."

Niji waved him away.

"Oh no, I know Usopp will eat it. He once told me he can do even five if he puts his mind to it. Calls it his 'depression repression' meal. And!" He pulled a clipped cloth Ichiji failed to notice before. "Sniper doesn't use any shabby materials! His cape is waterproof, fireproof, really hard to rip and can even withstand acid for a while. And guess what? This piece I took from the alley is exactly that!"

Ichiji sincerely hated that he actually started to consider this. "Still, you can't be sure. A lot of people live there. Plus, if I was trying to hide my identity, I wouldn't throw damming evidence with my garbage. It's more likely, if it even is the same material, that it was thrown there by somebody passing by."

Niji sneered, annoyed that the argument actually made sense.

"We all are hiding our identity; why 'if'?"

"Father's hightech company is one letter away from just spelling his evil codename, we lost a member around the same time Sanji, very publicly, left the family and we barely cover our faces when we go out. Are we hiding our identities?"

"It's different, we're rich. We can do whatever we want and so one will accuse us."

"That just proves my point. I doubt Sniper can afford being find out, so he's probably more cautious handling his leftovers."

"Maybe he's rich too, you don't know that. I mean, he's not since I know it's Usopp, but. Well. Doesn't matter, because I have even more evidence!"

He gestured at another portion of the board, with two papers on it. One seemed to be a photo of Sniper taken in the middle of battle, even more unfocused than the others. The other was a printed selfie of darkskinned guy around 20 years old, with long curly hair and wide smile. But the first thing that caught attention was his- Oh no.

"As you can see," Niji gloated, "they have the same nose!"

Ichiji slammed his forehead on the table.

The twin bang could be heard across the city, in an unkempt apartment (that on paper was shared by five people, which really downplayed how many actually passed by it).

"For the last time Usopp, your favourite barista is not Dengeki Blue just because the hair match!

[blacklegsanjiii]

Aww noo the one with baby sanji and mihawk does something to mee 😭 do you have anything to share with that one?? Im so interested

Like does mihawk has one of thosee baby carriages that have sanji at his front or maybe back like his sword and baby sanji just gets his bounty pic as a chubby lil baby

Also everyones reaction to mihawk carrying a babyyy, o my gosh does he just check mid battle on sanji and give him a lil kiss 🥺🥺

I'm still working on it, but little baby Sanji who goes by Oisín(osh-een)who looks at the mark on his chest as Mihawk tells him all about his mom and takes him with him on trips. Sanji is absolutely in a baby wrap and Mihawk wears him all the time. He's so little and Mihawk has never seen a baby, let alone held one until he kissed his soulmate for the last time with one last promise to her and a child.

It's also the marks that are outlined, then fill with color, and then grey wash when they die. So he has Sanji when his mark goes grey and he fucking holds his infant son and is a fucking wreck. His beautiful sky with a mockingbird flying going grey and his son, three weeks old, with the sun on his shoulder. He's twenty four and just lost his soulmate he never really had and is holding her only human child.

So he does take Sanji everywhere with him. He absolutely wears a baby wrap and has set up the bassinet next to his bed and he reads all about parenting. He's not scared of dying in duels because he won't. He has a child to raise a promise to keep. It makes him take the title faster if anything.

Little Oisín who is loved and cared for but still has grown up with bloodshed meets Shanks. Mihawk isn't particularly happy to see the Redhaired man when he asks about the swordsman's soulmate and the kid. Oisín, who is like three or four says his dad's mark is grey and Shanks feels like he's been kicked in the balls with the way he drops from shock.

Oisín grows up knowing his family and the sacrifices his mother and her soulmate made for him. I feel like he would get captured by Germa at some point leading to his father going on a fucking rampage to get him back but the rock still happens which leads to his want to be a cook and how they meet befriend Redleg.

That's kind of all I have now.

[leftsidebonfire]

Wild Blue Yonder

Part 2

Read Part 1 Here

The only thing worth living for in life is a good friend... and some good food. Unaek makes good on her promise to visit the trapped prince in the dungeon of the Germa 66 castle.

"The flower of friendship can bloom even in hell."

For the first time in, well, basically six years of living, little seven-year-old Unaek Seveer— who hated that last name, by the way— was finally excited to wake up for something.

Sure, the room she woke up in was bleak, dreary, and cold, but she finally had somewhere in mind to go during her romp around the castle while her parents were busy. And that destination, of all places, was a gross, damp, stale dungeon.

The dungeon that housed her best friend.

It seemed like nothing could dampen her spirits, and her parents immediately knew it. She was given cold oatmeal for breakfast, as she sat on the floor of her room. Her father passed it to her roughly. "Get up. Eat." He demanded, giving her the spoon. Unaek was unable to hide her anticipation, eagerly making herself a few strawberries to put on the oats.

"That shit again? Oh, just fucking eat your breakfast." Agnar grumbled. He raised an eyebrow at her when she seemed not to notice his clear annoyance with her. Which only served to annoy him more. "And wipe that fucking look off of your face." He added. "We're doing staff training again today, so you'd better be ready to fight. Meet at the training ring in 15."

He slammed the door to her room, a sound that would have usually made her jump and cower back in fear, but nothing could dampen her spirits this morning. She couldn't wait to get back to Sanji! The little Vinsmoke prince was finally her first real friend around this castle, and try as she might, she just couldn't wipe away the eager little smile from her lips.

Her breakfast was, to put it lightly, terrible. It wasn't really like her parents cared one way or another if it was good. It didn't have to be. It was usually sprinkled with protein powder in an attempt to make her stronger, but it wasn't like she ever put that to good use to really be strong in the first place. She liked music. She liked plants. Her dream was to have a wide, expansive garden outside. None of these things required combat training. Her meals were usually disappointing.

Her stomach churned at the idea of staff training. She was clumsy and slow, and even the anticipation of going to hang out with Sanji again soon couldn't stop her from feeling nauseous at the upcoming training task. Her dad never cut her a break, even though she was seven, and he was a trained fighter since he was her age. She still had a bruise on her back from the last time he'd done this training with her, and she'd been curled in a little ball, not fighting back in the slightest.

Her biggest worry, though, was not the injury. She knew it was going to happen anyway. She was most worried that she would be injured and not be able to go see Sanji today. She didn't want to break her promise that she would come back to see him. He said he would cook for her, which was just about the sweetest gesture that she had ever heard of in her life. Someone actually making her food? It made the cold wet oats more worth it.

She got up to follow through with staff training, and she didn't drag her feet. The faster she went, the sooner she could return to her best friend. A long wooden stick, almost double her height, was pushed into her hand, and she hardly had a chance to ready herself before her father's expertly timed swing struck her in the ribs. He didn't hold back, and she stumbled back with a whimper of a cry and landed on her elbow. She yelped.

“You weren't ready. Be ready, Unaek.” Her father said, and didn't even wait for her to stand again before he brought down the staff at her head. She hardly had time to hold it up, a cross-bar barely stopping the swing, but the connecting strike stung her hands from impact. Better than her head.

She rolled to her side to avoid a follow up blow, but she couldn't get to her feet quickly enough, causing her to slip and stay on the floor, skittering backwards to avoid the next attack, which cracked the wood pole on her knees when she wasn't fast enough.

“This is pathetic!” Agnar roared. “Get up! Stand and hit me!” He demanded, grabbing his daughter by the arm and bringing her to her feet. She lost contact with the ground for a moment before she stood up again. Her body felt weak and entirely shaky with adrenaline, eyes wide and pupils heavily dilated as her whole being felt nothing except fight or flight. And her body was choosing flight, flight, flight, but she had nowhere to fly to. She was forced to fight.

“Dad… stop… Dad! Stop!!” She begged, too frightened to think clearly. 

“Ready stance!” He yelled, ignoring her pleas.

Like a terrible little soldier, she tried, standing with her feet at shoulder width apart, but a stance didn't matter when she was seven and fragile and fighting a soldier who'd done this all his life. One sweep of the pole right back in that same sensitive spot on her ribs he'd hit before sent her right back to the ground, crying out in pain, clutching her side. She dropped the wooden staff with a clatter and choked out a sob like she was trying to hold it back, but hot tears were already blurring her vision. She made no attempt to get up.

Her father stood over her, glaring down like the epitome of power, sharp eyes, dark long hair, and a tall nose all half obscured by the way the sun behind him made him look like a shadow. “We're done.” He said, looking down at his sniveling daughter as she gasped for breath. “How will you ever be a warrior if you can't even stand on your own two feet? Useless wretch. I don't even want to look at you right now… GO!”

Unaek whimpered and cried. Crawling slowly to her feet. “Dad…” She whispered, like she was trying to use her big doe eyes to garner sympathy from him. “I can do it again…” She whispered, feeling scared to even speak in his presence.

“No need. Leave my sight.” He demanded of her.

“But dad…” She sobbed as she turned away, holding her stomach and half doubled over in pain. But she didn't linger. She staggered off, away from her father, and broke into a run as quick as she could before he changed his mind.

She hid in the corner of her room again to cry, her shirt lifted up slightly to watch a blooming bruise on her ribs the more she cried. Her small, fragile body ached and shivered. She needed to go to Sanji. She wanted her friend. She wanted someone to talk to, that little boy with the helmet. She curled her hands in on herself, blocking most of the bruise like she was afraid either parent would come in and continue.

Her door swung open moments later and she swiftly adjusted her top to cover her stomach again as her mother stood silhouetted in the door. She didn't yell or scream, she just loomed with a radiating energy that made her want to cower in fear. She just stood there looking at Unaek with a sharp eye, draining her will to even protest, and the young girl just cried.

“Very disappointing work today, Unaek.” Solveig said. Unaek felt like it was so hard to breathe right now. “You'll never live up to your name at this rate. Keep this up and we might never bring you out of your room.”

“I-I… Mom, no…” Unaek whimpered. The thought of never seeing the light and warmth of the sun was terrible. It made her think of Sanji. She wanted the sun, the grass, her favorite things. Blue and purple flowers grew shakily behind her. The colors always matched how she was feeling, so she could be read like a book. Sadness. Fear. Terror. They crept up the walls. The most terrible fact would be never getting to see Sanji again.

“I'll do better,” she pleaded. “Please don't lock me away.” Her voice quaked and broke pathetically. Solveig just continued her hard stare of indomitable will.

“That's what you said last time, and you're still a goddamn disappointment. I don't want to see you for the rest of the day.”

Solveig slammed the door and Unaek broke down crying again. Heavy, hot tears as she quickly grabbed her things and ran. If her mom didn't want to see her, then she wouldn't be seen. She cried terribly down the hall, her throat feeling raw and her body like she had just run for miles. She knew exactly where she was headed.

Unaek had just gotten behind the heavy door that locked away the staircase to Sanji, and she wiped her tears, shaking off any blue petals that had remained. As upset and hurt as she was, she didn't want to go in to see Sanji a complete mess. The dark, dank stairway that she had previously been afraid of now felt welcoming. Because she knew a friend was at the bottom of it. Her eyes were still red from crying, but she considered it good enough, and quickly picked her way down the stairs.

She tentatively peeked her head around the corner to make sure nobody else knew she was there, and she saw the cell room empty. Just Sanji in there, his metal helmet covering most of his face, and his clothes looking a bit worse for wear, but he was alone, reading over some books with a mixing bowl.

“Sanji!” She immediately made her presence known with excitement, almost fully forgetting her parents' abuse minutes ago. Sanji turned from his book to look at her, and his one visible blue eye brightened.

“You came back! You actually came back!” He sounded so surprised to know she was actually there.

“Of course!” She ran over to him, getting as close to the bars as she could so she could shove her arms through and hug him around the middle. She hugged him as tightly as the restrictive cage could allow. “I couldn't wait to see you again! I was thinking about this all day.”

Sanji's jaw dropped but she couldn't see it with that helmet in the way. “You… wanted to see me?” He repeated, astonished somebody out there actually cared enough to be excited about his existence. 

She didn't notice it at the time, too focused on Sanji, but her flowers were back. This time, they were bright yellow.

“Of course I wanted to see you!” She giggled at the question. “You're my best friend!”

He was her only friend. But that was hardly the point. Her first friend. Her only friend. Her best friend. Sanji truly didn't know what to do with that knowledge.

“I, uh— I'm gonna cook for you today,” he said bashfully, for once thankful that the metal helmet hid most of his face, because he was smiling so proud but also felt really shy about the whole thing, about being praised for once.

“I'm so excited!” Unaek squeezed his hands. She'd have jumped up and down with him if she could actually properly reach him. Instead she stood there patiently as Sanji went back to his mixing bowl.

“I was just working on a new recipe, so you'll be the first to tell me how it is!” He seemed nervous but excited with anticipation, whisking in the bowl and adding some chopped vegetables into the mix, whatever it was he was making. She watched as best as she could from outside the cage.

“It's gonna be great!” Unaek grinned at him, so eager to see what his face looked like without that mask. She bet he was kind. She watched him with great care and love as he worked, letting him tell her all about the cooking terms he learned, like ‘saw-tay,’ which was to fry something. Or that ‘caramelize’ didn't mean to actually put caramel over something, which made Unaek giggle because she'd have never known that. He put the dish into two bowls and gave her one through the gate. His foot twisted the ground again like he was so nervous she was going to hate it.

She took the warm bowl and ate with her fingers, since he only had one set of silverware he was using to cook, but she didn't mind. It was vegetables and eggs over rice, with chunky, uneven bits of vegetables and maybe a little bit of egg shell, but there was no clearer picture that Sanji had tried so hard to make this with love, that Unaek ate every single grain of rice.

“Oh Sanji, that was so good!!!” She grinned, her voice squealing like she was proud of him. She wasn't put off by technique or anything gone amiss. He cooked for her. That was the nicest thing anyone had ever done for her. “I can't believe you did that all by yourself! I'm not even allowed to touch the stove.”

She felt so proud of him even if they didn't know each other much. She handed him back the perfectly cleaned bowl with a big grin. “It was warm, it was nice, and I love vegetables. And I've never had my rice with egg before!” She smiled proudly at him.

Sanji's eyes were wide and shimmery when she praised him. “You really think so?”

“I know so.” Unaek nodded, her hair falling loose around her face.

Sanji's face went red and he didn't understand why. He felt all hot around the neck and ears, and even with his cheeks surrounded by metal, he suddenly felt very warm.

“...Thank you,” he muttered quietly, wishing he could hide his face, but… in a good way. He never had anyone speak so kindly to him before.

“I would love it if you cooked for me more,” she giggled softly, her voice like a whisper because she was too shy to say it louder. “We can hang out all the time.” She would love nothing more. Maybe her mom should lock her away. If she got locked down here with Sanji, she'd be the happiest she'd ever been. What a painfully ironic thought.

Sanji looked like he could just about cry from happiness. “I want to do that for you…” He nodded, blinking tears down his cheeks. “I want to be the world's best cook, and cook for everyone who's hungry!”

Unaek's eyes were soft with care for him. She smiled and wiped his tears through the bars. “I'll make you some more flowers for this place. It'll brighten it up a little,” she said, looking up at the gray rocks. She focused hard, and made another string of daisies on a vine for him.

Just as the vine wrapped its way down the bars on the other side, surrounding him with colors, some white and yellow to spice up the gloomy darkness, from the end of that long staircase…

— A door creaked open.