As Requested...
Nov. 15th, 2005 12:06 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
chibi_trillianSanji's Uke-Uke Fruit Adventure: Part the Second.
Series: One Piece.
Ownership: Not mine.
Notes: Uke-Uke Fruit are not to be distributed to characters outside the One Piece fandom, because that's fuckin' cheating. Yes, I'm talking to you,![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
tarvosio. No feeding Uke-Uke Fruit to Bleach characters, Inu-Yasha characters, or original characters who are not based in the One Piece universe (including one Mathiu C. Lawson and one Anluan Firesong. Even if they somehow go to One Piece-verse, the vines of the Uke-Uke Fruit will shrivel up before them. I'm serious).
“Uke-Uke Fruit? What’s that?” echoed Sanji in befuddlement. He could guess that it was some manner of Devil Fruit, which was bad enough, but the way Robin was looking at him was speaking volumes in an ancient language he didn’t understand and didn’t really want to.
“It’s a Devil Fruit,” Robin explained, confirming his suspicions. “It’s said to give the eater strange powers over men.”
“So do all Devil Fruit,” Sanji muttered, feeling increasingly nervous. He fumbled in the pocket of his now-loose suit jacket for some matches. Damn, but he needed a smoke right now, and his cigarette had died on him while he’d been out cold. He hadn’t lost it—he could hang on to his cigarette through anything short of a direct blow to the mouth—but it was not currently helping with the nasty fresh air going into his lungs. Blood sneaking into his nicotine stream was bad, and made Sanji twitchy.
“No, Sanji,” Robin said, still in that quiet, soothing tone. It had been nice before, but now it was getting creepy. Where were his damn matches? “It gives the eater strange powers over MEN.”
“Men? As in males, as in not women, as in…” Sanji looked over at Zoro, who was still hiding most of his body behind the mast. When the swordsman caught his glance, he blushed—actually blushed!—and vanished entirely out of sight. Sanji gave a convulsive full-body shudder, and finally located his matches. With a sigh of relief, he relit his cigarette and took a nice, deep drag.
And started coughing like he hadn’t since he was a kid and had first started smoking. The wonderful, sweet tobacco smoke in his lungs burned like vaporized cayenne pepper, and Sanji came within an inch or so of coughing himself sick. Chopper was screaming for a doctor, Luffy was thumping his back a bit too enthusiastically, and Usopp was declaring gravely that Sanji was going to die as he, Great Captain Usopp, had foreseen and there was nothing for him but a burial at sea.
When Sanji finally got his rebellious lungs under control and his overly determined captain off him, he took a couple of deep breaths and reached for the still faintly smoking cigarette on the deck. He gave it a cautious sniff.
Sanji retched violently, losing his grip on the cancer stick. It rolled down the deck and into the ocean to its extinguishment and death, kind of like Sanji’s hopes and dreams.
“What the he-heck has this sh-cruddy fruit done to me?” Sanji screamed, voice breaking. To his horror, after his voice broke, it did not return to its normal deep register but instead seemed to be quite comfortably lounging in the high tenor region. He barely noticed that cursing no longer seemed an option as far as his tongue was concerned. The fact that he sounded like a goddamn castrati was far more concerning.
“Sanji,” Nami’s voice cut through his panic like a hot knife through sweet butter. “We’ll help you through this, Sanji. You’ll be okay.”
Sanji looked up into the eyes of his goddess, his Aphrodite, his lovely Nami-san. For once, there was no calculation on her face, only concern and warmth. She was breathtakingly beautiful.
And Sanji felt absolutely nothing. Nada, zilch, zero. The Love-Love Detector was resting on “Ice Cold.” The bit of his mind that fell in love with every beautiful woman he saw was dead silent, emphasis on the “dead.” No, it was the sight of Zoro’s weather-beaten face through Nami’s hair, creased with ill-concealed worry and peeking out from around the mast, that brought a rush of hot blood to his cheeks and to…other regions.
“No,” Sanji squeaked. “This is not happening. If there is a merciful god in the universe and he loves me, this will be a wretched nightmare from which I wake up screaming in about thirty seconds.”
Thirty seconds passed.
Nothing happened.
Sanji curled up into a ball of adorable misery and started sobbing.
Series: One Piece.
Ownership: Not mine.
Notes: Uke-Uke Fruit are not to be distributed to characters outside the One Piece fandom, because that's fuckin' cheating. Yes, I'm talking to you,
tarvosio. No feeding Uke-Uke Fruit to Bleach characters, Inu-Yasha characters, or original characters who are not based in the One Piece universe (including one Mathiu C. Lawson and one Anluan Firesong. Even if they somehow go to One Piece-verse, the vines of the Uke-Uke Fruit will shrivel up before them. I'm serious). “Uke-Uke Fruit? What’s that?” echoed Sanji in befuddlement. He could guess that it was some manner of Devil Fruit, which was bad enough, but the way Robin was looking at him was speaking volumes in an ancient language he didn’t understand and didn’t really want to.
“It’s a Devil Fruit,” Robin explained, confirming his suspicions. “It’s said to give the eater strange powers over men.”
“So do all Devil Fruit,” Sanji muttered, feeling increasingly nervous. He fumbled in the pocket of his now-loose suit jacket for some matches. Damn, but he needed a smoke right now, and his cigarette had died on him while he’d been out cold. He hadn’t lost it—he could hang on to his cigarette through anything short of a direct blow to the mouth—but it was not currently helping with the nasty fresh air going into his lungs. Blood sneaking into his nicotine stream was bad, and made Sanji twitchy.
“No, Sanji,” Robin said, still in that quiet, soothing tone. It had been nice before, but now it was getting creepy. Where were his damn matches? “It gives the eater strange powers over MEN.”
“Men? As in males, as in not women, as in…” Sanji looked over at Zoro, who was still hiding most of his body behind the mast. When the swordsman caught his glance, he blushed—actually blushed!—and vanished entirely out of sight. Sanji gave a convulsive full-body shudder, and finally located his matches. With a sigh of relief, he relit his cigarette and took a nice, deep drag.
And started coughing like he hadn’t since he was a kid and had first started smoking. The wonderful, sweet tobacco smoke in his lungs burned like vaporized cayenne pepper, and Sanji came within an inch or so of coughing himself sick. Chopper was screaming for a doctor, Luffy was thumping his back a bit too enthusiastically, and Usopp was declaring gravely that Sanji was going to die as he, Great Captain Usopp, had foreseen and there was nothing for him but a burial at sea.
When Sanji finally got his rebellious lungs under control and his overly determined captain off him, he took a couple of deep breaths and reached for the still faintly smoking cigarette on the deck. He gave it a cautious sniff.
Sanji retched violently, losing his grip on the cancer stick. It rolled down the deck and into the ocean to its extinguishment and death, kind of like Sanji’s hopes and dreams.
“What the he-heck has this sh-cruddy fruit done to me?” Sanji screamed, voice breaking. To his horror, after his voice broke, it did not return to its normal deep register but instead seemed to be quite comfortably lounging in the high tenor region. He barely noticed that cursing no longer seemed an option as far as his tongue was concerned. The fact that he sounded like a goddamn castrati was far more concerning.
“Sanji,” Nami’s voice cut through his panic like a hot knife through sweet butter. “We’ll help you through this, Sanji. You’ll be okay.”
Sanji looked up into the eyes of his goddess, his Aphrodite, his lovely Nami-san. For once, there was no calculation on her face, only concern and warmth. She was breathtakingly beautiful.
And Sanji felt absolutely nothing. Nada, zilch, zero. The Love-Love Detector was resting on “Ice Cold.” The bit of his mind that fell in love with every beautiful woman he saw was dead silent, emphasis on the “dead.” No, it was the sight of Zoro’s weather-beaten face through Nami’s hair, creased with ill-concealed worry and peeking out from around the mast, that brought a rush of hot blood to his cheeks and to…other regions.
“No,” Sanji squeaked. “This is not happening. If there is a merciful god in the universe and he loves me, this will be a wretched nightmare from which I wake up screaming in about thirty seconds.”
Thirty seconds passed.
Nothing happened.
Sanji curled up into a ball of adorable misery and started sobbing.
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Date: 2005-11-16 01:03 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-11-16 02:05 am (UTC)