OP Drabble full of Sanji goodness.
Oct. 1st, 2005 08:41 pmTitle: Sanji dreams.
Topic: Dreams Come True
Pairing: Sanji and his cooking.
Words: 700. That is about as drabbly as I get.
Rating: R for disturbing content.
A/N: Okay, so very NOT what the challenge is about, but I couldn't resist adding a touch of mentally unstable darkness to such a fluffy challenge to be well... challenging.
Sanji dreamed.
Sometimes they were nightmares.
He was back on the island. Nothing would have changed. No food left, no water and this time, no hope. When he stared down at his markings, his head moving slowly like a rusty puppet on strings, they would cover the rock. Long past the point of 85 days. He should be dead. But he wasn't. He was hungry. So hungry.
This time when he went to Zeff, Sanji killed him. Sanji had to. He had no choice. He wanted to live. He wanted to see All Blue, make friends. Have a life with nakama and a ship that seemed like a dream.
Zeff took his right eye with fingers as sharp as bone. Sanji killed Zeff. It was the first time he had the chance to cook something. It tasted good, but he'd been hungry.
It was another fifty days before he was rescued. By which point he had eaten everything he could on the island. Including his own hair and every stitch of clothing he owned. They found a naked, insane boy with a huge bag of treasure.
Sanji had had a very long time to get used to the new gruff voice in his head. The one that sounded like the old man. The one which whispered to him ambitions of dreams that Sanji wasn't sure were his. He wanted to cook. He wanted to open a restaurant. He was small boy defenseless against a ship full of men who only had the smallest amount of pity for a him. It wasn't enough to stop them trying to steal his treasure.
He defended himself the only way he knew how. He cooked. Then he cried because he didn't want to, and it was strange to feel tears sliding down both cheeks, unhampered by hair.
Fast forward.
This Sanji never learned how to kick, the voice tried to teach him, but Sanji had decided it must be some kind of demon. Instead Sanji used his hands. He made dishes famed world wide for their taste. Dishes made with the most tender meat and the most hard to obtain ingredients. Other chefs wanted to know his secret but Sanji wouldn't tell them. He was hired out constantly for his gift. Each dish was original. His ingredient wasn't something that could be gotten or contained easily, but still he hungered for it. He was constantly hungry, but seldom ate. Only when it was worth eating.
He let his hair grow out on one side of his face, vanity making him hide what is ugly and untruthful. His skill with the knife was unparalleled, his hands knew where human weaknesses were, sought them out to deliver killing blows even without trying. He could use any tool in his kitchen to make a masterpiece.
He wasn't a murderer. A chef used ingredients. No one mourned the Sea Kings if they were used for food, and to him, his materials were the same. Devil Fruit users after all, weren't human anymore. Very few mourned the loss of another powerful pirate.
This Sanji had no interest in women. He didn't need the facade of love and romance. For him, his dream had already come true. His All Blue was the sea of humanity. Without insecurities and limitations this Sanji was free.
He had managed to capture the essence of flame in his meals. The delicious burn of smoked meat, the dry taste of the desert, toughened but satisfying and the elasticity of a good medium rare steak cooked to perfection. This Sanji had accomplished the dream. He was so happy it hurt.
When Sanji woke up, some part of him, deep inside, would wish it were true. The rest of him would work at carefully combing his hair over the left side of his face, his hands shaking. He could carefully trace familiar scars over his legs to remind himself of the old man's beatings, past battles, people, nakama. He would wake up, and he would make breakfast.
Sanji hated those nightmares the most.
Topic: Dreams Come True
Pairing: Sanji and his cooking.
Words: 700. That is about as drabbly as I get.
Rating: R for disturbing content.
A/N: Okay, so very NOT what the challenge is about, but I couldn't resist adding a touch of mentally unstable darkness to such a fluffy challenge to be well... challenging.
Sanji dreamed.
Sometimes they were nightmares.
He was back on the island. Nothing would have changed. No food left, no water and this time, no hope. When he stared down at his markings, his head moving slowly like a rusty puppet on strings, they would cover the rock. Long past the point of 85 days. He should be dead. But he wasn't. He was hungry. So hungry.
This time when he went to Zeff, Sanji killed him. Sanji had to. He had no choice. He wanted to live. He wanted to see All Blue, make friends. Have a life with nakama and a ship that seemed like a dream.
Zeff took his right eye with fingers as sharp as bone. Sanji killed Zeff. It was the first time he had the chance to cook something. It tasted good, but he'd been hungry.
It was another fifty days before he was rescued. By which point he had eaten everything he could on the island. Including his own hair and every stitch of clothing he owned. They found a naked, insane boy with a huge bag of treasure.
Sanji had had a very long time to get used to the new gruff voice in his head. The one that sounded like the old man. The one which whispered to him ambitions of dreams that Sanji wasn't sure were his. He wanted to cook. He wanted to open a restaurant. He was small boy defenseless against a ship full of men who only had the smallest amount of pity for a him. It wasn't enough to stop them trying to steal his treasure.
He defended himself the only way he knew how. He cooked. Then he cried because he didn't want to, and it was strange to feel tears sliding down both cheeks, unhampered by hair.
Fast forward.
This Sanji never learned how to kick, the voice tried to teach him, but Sanji had decided it must be some kind of demon. Instead Sanji used his hands. He made dishes famed world wide for their taste. Dishes made with the most tender meat and the most hard to obtain ingredients. Other chefs wanted to know his secret but Sanji wouldn't tell them. He was hired out constantly for his gift. Each dish was original. His ingredient wasn't something that could be gotten or contained easily, but still he hungered for it. He was constantly hungry, but seldom ate. Only when it was worth eating.
He let his hair grow out on one side of his face, vanity making him hide what is ugly and untruthful. His skill with the knife was unparalleled, his hands knew where human weaknesses were, sought them out to deliver killing blows even without trying. He could use any tool in his kitchen to make a masterpiece.
He wasn't a murderer. A chef used ingredients. No one mourned the Sea Kings if they were used for food, and to him, his materials were the same. Devil Fruit users after all, weren't human anymore. Very few mourned the loss of another powerful pirate.
This Sanji had no interest in women. He didn't need the facade of love and romance. For him, his dream had already come true. His All Blue was the sea of humanity. Without insecurities and limitations this Sanji was free.
He had managed to capture the essence of flame in his meals. The delicious burn of smoked meat, the dry taste of the desert, toughened but satisfying and the elasticity of a good medium rare steak cooked to perfection. This Sanji had accomplished the dream. He was so happy it hurt.
When Sanji woke up, some part of him, deep inside, would wish it were true. The rest of him would work at carefully combing his hair over the left side of his face, his hands shaking. He could carefully trace familiar scars over his legs to remind himself of the old man's beatings, past battles, people, nakama. He would wake up, and he would make breakfast.
Sanji hated those nightmares the most.
ohhh
Date: 2005-10-01 11:15 am (UTC)Re: ohhh
Date: 2005-10-02 10:37 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-10-01 01:33 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-10-02 10:38 am (UTC)Hee. Next up, ALIEN!SANJI and his anal probe. dododododeedo...
no subject
Date: 2005-10-01 04:54 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-10-02 02:59 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-10-01 05:43 pm (UTC)(hides behind her chair)
(whimper)
I do wanna say one thing, though: I've read stories where people suggest that Sanji covers his left eye because of an injury Zeff gave him. But he has that part of his face covered when we first see him, even before he met Zeff.
no subject
Date: 2005-10-02 10:42 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-10-01 06:10 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-10-02 10:48 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-10-02 12:05 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-10-02 12:07 am (UTC)The above is supposed to have paragraph breaks, but I don't care anymore. :(
no subject
Date: 2005-10-02 10:46 am (UTC)Yep, Sanji's hair got switched! I am so very very conventional. Bad Sanji has reverse hair. It's an odd unfunny joke for me. Hee.
How exactly can Zeff and Sanji's positions be switched? As in Sanji is the pirate rescuing wee little Zeff or Sanji stays back on the Baratie and Zeff joins the crew (...which is oddly appealing in a WTFOMGBBQ way). How exactly can the former work when Zeff is so much older and Sanji's... um small. Interesting though. Yes. Post drabble. Not enough One piece stuff out there as it is.
no subject
Date: 2005-10-02 02:48 pm (UTC)Uh, make that 'somewhat' switched. And I've already posted the drabble for a past topic. You can find it here:
http://www.livejournal.com/community/onepieceyaoi100/176517.html
no subject
Date: 2005-10-02 03:11 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-10-02 03:46 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-10-03 09:11 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-10-02 03:16 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-10-02 10:49 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-10-02 11:03 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-10-03 09:06 am (UTC)I just like the idea of him cooking in generally really... and then making people eat it unknowingly.
no subject
Date: 2005-10-03 05:52 am (UTC)Is it... bad that that aroused me? <.<;
no subject
Date: 2005-10-03 09:04 am (UTC)