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Aug. 13th, 2011 11:19 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
xarciel.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
onepieceyaoi100Title: Action
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 295
Pairing: Zosan
Topic: Pantomime
Warnings: Non-con, language
Author's Notes: So, there I was, trying to write some fluffy Lusopp to spice up by bland list of appearing characters, when 'BAM!' this thing blindsided me. I'll be honest, I don't know where it came from and I don't know why my brain is so messed up. This started out as comedy... >.>
It figured. Shitty marimo had made the mistake of eating a shitty fruit on the last shitty island, and the shitty thing had left him mute.
Well, horny and mute, but only for whoever he saw straight after eating the thing.
In this case; Sanji. Effects only lasted a week though- thank Christ- or he could opt to concede and 'finish' the job earlier.
Sanji'd decided to go for the first option. Fending off the marimo for a week couldn't be that hard.
~ ~ ~
Day One: He was correct; it was much like having a large puppy dog. Okay, a large puppy dog that latched onto him from behind every time he stepped outside the galley and buried it's face in the crook of his neck, but still.
It was dealable.
Day Three: Something had changed. He'd only just stepped out of the galley, a tray of delicious sweets for the ladies in hand, when a flash of green had rammed him into the wood, a large hand pawing at his groin and teeth attacking his neck.
A few pre-emptive strikes kept their shitty-swordsman at bay after that.
~ ~ ~
Day Five: Shithead was even worse. He'd woken to the need for air, shocked as he registered the swordsman's heavy weight pressing him into the hammock, legs pinned, vicious lips devouring his mouth. He'd struggled and eventually gotten leverage, escaping.
He spent the next two days on his guard.
Day Seven: A sword at his neck tells him the swordsman isn't fucking around. Down to the anchor room, his own tie a gag and hands pulled high behind him, ankles bound to the iron anchor and face down over a crate. There's primal biting, harsh- bruising fondling, erratic grinding, freezing hands on limp flesh.
Sanji blocks it out.
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 295
Pairing: Zosan
Topic: Pantomime
Warnings: Non-con, language
Author's Notes: So, there I was, trying to write some fluffy Lusopp to spice up by bland list of appearing characters, when 'BAM!' this thing blindsided me. I'll be honest, I don't know where it came from and I don't know why my brain is so messed up. This started out as comedy... >.>
~ ~ ~
It figured. Shitty marimo had made the mistake of eating a shitty fruit on the last shitty island, and the shitty thing had left him mute.
Well, horny and mute, but only for whoever he saw straight after eating the thing.
In this case; Sanji. Effects only lasted a week though- thank Christ- or he could opt to concede and 'finish' the job earlier.
Sanji'd decided to go for the first option. Fending off the marimo for a week couldn't be that hard.
~ ~ ~
Day One: He was correct; it was much like having a large puppy dog. Okay, a large puppy dog that latched onto him from behind every time he stepped outside the galley and buried it's face in the crook of his neck, but still.
It was dealable.
~ ~ ~
Day Three: Something had changed. He'd only just stepped out of the galley, a tray of delicious sweets for the ladies in hand, when a flash of green had rammed him into the wood, a large hand pawing at his groin and teeth attacking his neck.
A few pre-emptive strikes kept their shitty-swordsman at bay after that.
~ ~ ~
Day Five: Shithead was even worse. He'd woken to the need for air, shocked as he registered the swordsman's heavy weight pressing him into the hammock, legs pinned, vicious lips devouring his mouth. He'd struggled and eventually gotten leverage, escaping.
He spent the next two days on his guard.
~ ~ ~
Day Seven: A sword at his neck tells him the swordsman isn't fucking around. Down to the anchor room, his own tie a gag and hands pulled high behind him, ankles bound to the iron anchor and face down over a crate. There's primal biting, harsh- bruising fondling, erratic grinding, freezing hands on limp flesh.
Sanji blocks it out.
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Date: 2011-08-14 02:16 pm (UTC)And devil fruits continue to be the most convenient of plot devices 8Db
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Date: 2011-08-16 05:01 pm (UTC)Actually it wasn't meant to be a devil fruit, it was just supposed to be a generic 'forbidden fruit' plot device off some random island (inaccurate biblical references ftw!), I just ran out of words to put that bit in. :P