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onepieceyaoi1002007-02-07 12:37 am
chibi-trillian.livejournal.com) wrote in onepieceyaoi1002007-02-07 12:37 am
Entry tags:
Unoriginal lol.
Title: Chianti
Word Count: 223.
Rating: R for disturbing themes.
Pairing: Zoro/Sanji.
Topic: Blood.
Notes: It tastes like veal, actually.
There were moments in his childhood—tiny ones, flickering by faster than the swift flashes of a knife on a cutting board—when Sanji had wanted to ask him what it had tasted like. A chef needed to know all the flavors of the world, those ephemeral notions whispered, and it was surely the most rarefied cuisine in all the Blues.
Fortunately, he’d never gotten the nerves or the liquor tolerance necessary to ask, and the old man had let him sail away without telling him the savor of the forbidden flesh he had tasted so that Sanji might live.
Sanji bit down hard on Wadou Ichimonji’s hilt, teeth fitting into grooves worn in a thousand fights, tasting a familiar mouth, an indirect kiss. A black bandana dug into the depleted flesh of his thigh, knot over the great artery that ran from groin to ankle and would drain away his life in minutes if he let it. His hands, still clean and perfect, tightened around a folded, wadded haramaki.
Green eyes, sunken and hollow in a near-skeletal face, fixed him with a stare that would have crushed diamond.
It shattered on Sanji’s resolve.
Sandai Kitetsu flashed like a kitchen knife on a cutting board, and Sanji wondered if there was a wine that went with the taste of sacrifice and broken dreams.
Word Count: 223.
Rating: R for disturbing themes.
Pairing: Zoro/Sanji.
Topic: Blood.
Notes: It tastes like veal, actually.
There were moments in his childhood—tiny ones, flickering by faster than the swift flashes of a knife on a cutting board—when Sanji had wanted to ask him what it had tasted like. A chef needed to know all the flavors of the world, those ephemeral notions whispered, and it was surely the most rarefied cuisine in all the Blues.
Fortunately, he’d never gotten the nerves or the liquor tolerance necessary to ask, and the old man had let him sail away without telling him the savor of the forbidden flesh he had tasted so that Sanji might live.
Sanji bit down hard on Wadou Ichimonji’s hilt, teeth fitting into grooves worn in a thousand fights, tasting a familiar mouth, an indirect kiss. A black bandana dug into the depleted flesh of his thigh, knot over the great artery that ran from groin to ankle and would drain away his life in minutes if he let it. His hands, still clean and perfect, tightened around a folded, wadded haramaki.
Green eyes, sunken and hollow in a near-skeletal face, fixed him with a stare that would have crushed diamond.
It shattered on Sanji’s resolve.
Sandai Kitetsu flashed like a kitchen knife on a cutting board, and Sanji wondered if there was a wine that went with the taste of sacrifice and broken dreams.
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Eugh gods, this has got my stomach doing the WORST kind of flip-flops. >_>;;;
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I like this. Though I feel dirty for it.
*shamefully adds to memories*
...
cannibal!Sanji gets me so hot.no subject
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... I scanned through that article and my knees are weak just thinking of it. The meat of babies is like fish, yeah? o.o so soft... urks.
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...Wait...Why am I reading this? ^.^;; I've never been curious about that...I don't even like those gory horror movies *likes vampires though*
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...though Soro would probably find a way to become the strongest swordman even if he had no limbs left. :P