chibi_trillian (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
chibi_trillian) wrote2006-05-13 02:05 pm
chibi_trillian) wrote2006-05-13 02:05 pm
I'm starting to feel really bad for Zoro.
Onwards, oh mighty ficart exchange! These keep getting crackier and crackier, though compared to the art I get in return it's tame as hell.
As a note, the side effects to an overdose of chloral hydrate include confusion, weakness, extreme drowsiness, and depressed respiration. ^_^
Title: Don't Take Booze From Strangers, or Kaja Likes ZoSan Hurt/Fuckyou.
Series: One Piece.
One Piece: Not mine.
Rating: PG-13.
Summary: For![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
kotszok. This particular request was based off of a drawing that mettathron did that she's stubbornly refusing to scan. Sanji doesn't worry about Zoro. He swears.
Roronoa Zoro was a badass. It was practically printed on his forehead, and reinforced by the swords that almost never left his hip and the impressive bounty with his name on it. Rumor had it that he could kill you so fast that he’d be cleaning his sword off by the time you realized he’d hit you. His badassery was not up for debate, and neither was that of his captain and crew.
That said, even badasses pass out if you put a large enough dose of knockout drops in their beer.
****
“I’ve never seen a Mickey Finn work that fast on anybody. Are you sure he’s not just faking it?”
“No, he’s down. If he was going to kill us, he’d have done it by now.”
“Let’s just get him to the Naval base and claim his bounty before that monster of a captain of his comes looking for him.”
“I have one thing I want to do. Just one.”
“What now? Why can’t we ever do things simply?”
“I want to rough him up a little. I’ll never have problems getting laid again if I can say that I whipped the shit out of THE Roronoa Zoro.”
“…I have a bad feeling about this.”
****
Zoro was awakened by pain. This, in and of itself, was not unusual. What was unusual was the kind of pain he was currently on the receiving end of. It wasn’t the normal kick from Sanji or ear-yank from Nami. Frankly, it kind of felt like his back had been flayed off.
Another blow landed, and Zoro confirmed that his back was indeed being flayed off. A whipping isn’t really mistakable for anything else, and the Marines had made sure that Zoro would remember exactly what one felt like last time he’d been in their custody.
Damn Marines.
If there were Marines here, where were the rest of his nakama? Where were his swords? And why the hell had he been sleeping in the first place?
If these bastards had hurt his nakama, they would pay.
Zoro reeled to his feet, and the first sounds to overcome the rushing in his ears were a cry of “I told you this was a bad idea!” and the distinctive sound of a door being kicked in.
****
Sanji was not a happy camper.
He’d just spent the last hour or so shaking down people who might know where the shitty swordsman had taken himself off to. It was time to go, and Nami-san was going to be very angry if they missed the tide. It was just like Zoro to decide that now was a perfect time to go drinking. Moronic marimo-head.
When the terrified bartender of the fourth bar Sanji had visited had blurted out that a pair of men had paid him to put something in a green-haired man’s drink, Sanji had gone from annoyed to pissed in under a second flat.
Sanji was pissed, because he most emphatically was not worried. He didn’t need to worry about Zoro. He could take care of himself. He didn’t get drunk, he didn’t lose to two-bit bounty hunters, and he didn’t do stupid, insane, reckless things.
Okay, he only did stupid things sometimes. Every other day, max.
But still, Sanji wasn’t worried. He was angry at Zoro for getting kidnapped and making them run late, and that was why he was kicking his way through half the town on a rampage.
He kicked down the door to the latest place he’d been directed to just in time to see Zoro lurch to his feet and stagger around like a drunken zombie. One of the bounty hunters was shouting something about this being a bad idea, and the other…
…the other was holding a suspiciously wet-looking whip like he knew how to use it.
Then Zoro managed to get himself turned around, and Sanji could see the deep, bloody welts slashed into his back.
These dishonorable bastards had the temerity to first drug a great warrior rather than facing him properly and then beat the shit out of him while he was down?
Sanji saw red, the bounty hunters saw a blur of black and gold, and then they saw nothing at all.
****
Start to finish, the fight had taken less than thirty seconds. It figured. Not even in death would these cowards give him proper satisfaction.
Zoro was still wobbling, even as Sanji pressed his swords into his hands and got him out of what was left of his shirt so that he could get a proper look at the swordsman’s back. It was ugly, but whatever those two had given Zoro was worse. Zoro’s pupils were dilated unsettlingly wide, he kept muttering about Marines, and he’d asked Sanji three times already where everyone else was. So Zoro wasn’t sure where he was, what had happened, or who he was with, and to top it off Sanji didn’t think Zoro could get from point A to point B if the two were in the same room with a clearly marked line connecting them. Well, at least the last part was nothing new.
It was going to be an interesting trip back to the Going Merry, but if he got his suit jacket over Zoro’s shoulders and let the swordsman lean on him, he thought he could pass him off as drunk. It would be a sacrifice—the lining of his jacket would never be the same—but he could take it out on Zoro when the man was sober.
As Sanji was settling his jacket around Zoro’s broader shoulders, the swordsman suddenly fell forward, making Sanji lose his balance and fall on his ass. Zoro wound up in a very awkward position between Sanji’s thighs. The jacket wound up in a puddle of bounty hunter goo. Fuck.
Zoro hadn’t properly passed out, though. He was still mostly conscious, and he looked pretty focused on Sanji’s face.
“You…what the hell did you do?” One of Zoro’s blood-smeared hands clamped down on Sanji’s tie, pulling the chef forward and half-strangling him in the process. Oh shit. Zoro thought Sanji had poisoned him. Given where the swordsman was lying, this promised to be painful.
Another firm yank, and Sanji couldn’t breathe. Zoro’s face was about two inches from his. Sanji stared into fixed, wide black eyes, saw blood flecking Zoro’s lips. Great. He was going to die by being throttled by his own tie, and then the shitty swordsman was going to keel over from his injuries. This was just perfect. It was exactly what Sanji got for being worri—pissed off about the marimo-head getting kidnapped.
“You stole my kill, you stupid piece of shit.”
And then Zoro passed out facedown on Sanji’s crotch. Sanji ripped his tie off and gulped gratefully for air. Thus oxygenated, Sanji looked down at the fuzzy green head currently resting on one of the more sensitive bits of his body.
Which was not responding to the feeling of Zoro’s warm breath through thin dress pants, goddammit. Sanji was not that hard up for sex yet.
Okay, maybe he was, but that was why Nami-san and Robin-chan existed—to be Sanji’s twin lights of hope.
Flushing with what was certainly not embarrassment, Sanji muttered, “I know you’re glad I saved you, but you can give me a blow job when we get back to the ship,” and pushed Zoro’s head up. Bastard better not have drooled on his pants.
“Zoro’s giving you a blow job? Can I watch?”
“DAMMIT, LUFFY!”
Later, after they’d carried Zoro back to the ship and Chopper had started treating him for an overdose of chloral hydrate, Sanji wondered why Luffy had looked so disappointed that his first mate wasn’t actually going down on his chef.
Sanji then promptly decided that he really, really didn’t want to know.
As a note, the side effects to an overdose of chloral hydrate include confusion, weakness, extreme drowsiness, and depressed respiration. ^_^
Title: Don't Take Booze From Strangers, or Kaja Likes ZoSan Hurt/Fuckyou.
Series: One Piece.
One Piece: Not mine.
Rating: PG-13.
Summary: For
kotszok. This particular request was based off of a drawing that mettathron did that she's stubbornly refusing to scan. Sanji doesn't worry about Zoro. He swears.Roronoa Zoro was a badass. It was practically printed on his forehead, and reinforced by the swords that almost never left his hip and the impressive bounty with his name on it. Rumor had it that he could kill you so fast that he’d be cleaning his sword off by the time you realized he’d hit you. His badassery was not up for debate, and neither was that of his captain and crew.
That said, even badasses pass out if you put a large enough dose of knockout drops in their beer.
****
“I’ve never seen a Mickey Finn work that fast on anybody. Are you sure he’s not just faking it?”
“No, he’s down. If he was going to kill us, he’d have done it by now.”
“Let’s just get him to the Naval base and claim his bounty before that monster of a captain of his comes looking for him.”
“I have one thing I want to do. Just one.”
“What now? Why can’t we ever do things simply?”
“I want to rough him up a little. I’ll never have problems getting laid again if I can say that I whipped the shit out of THE Roronoa Zoro.”
“…I have a bad feeling about this.”
****
Zoro was awakened by pain. This, in and of itself, was not unusual. What was unusual was the kind of pain he was currently on the receiving end of. It wasn’t the normal kick from Sanji or ear-yank from Nami. Frankly, it kind of felt like his back had been flayed off.
Another blow landed, and Zoro confirmed that his back was indeed being flayed off. A whipping isn’t really mistakable for anything else, and the Marines had made sure that Zoro would remember exactly what one felt like last time he’d been in their custody.
Damn Marines.
If there were Marines here, where were the rest of his nakama? Where were his swords? And why the hell had he been sleeping in the first place?
If these bastards had hurt his nakama, they would pay.
Zoro reeled to his feet, and the first sounds to overcome the rushing in his ears were a cry of “I told you this was a bad idea!” and the distinctive sound of a door being kicked in.
****
Sanji was not a happy camper.
He’d just spent the last hour or so shaking down people who might know where the shitty swordsman had taken himself off to. It was time to go, and Nami-san was going to be very angry if they missed the tide. It was just like Zoro to decide that now was a perfect time to go drinking. Moronic marimo-head.
When the terrified bartender of the fourth bar Sanji had visited had blurted out that a pair of men had paid him to put something in a green-haired man’s drink, Sanji had gone from annoyed to pissed in under a second flat.
Sanji was pissed, because he most emphatically was not worried. He didn’t need to worry about Zoro. He could take care of himself. He didn’t get drunk, he didn’t lose to two-bit bounty hunters, and he didn’t do stupid, insane, reckless things.
Okay, he only did stupid things sometimes. Every other day, max.
But still, Sanji wasn’t worried. He was angry at Zoro for getting kidnapped and making them run late, and that was why he was kicking his way through half the town on a rampage.
He kicked down the door to the latest place he’d been directed to just in time to see Zoro lurch to his feet and stagger around like a drunken zombie. One of the bounty hunters was shouting something about this being a bad idea, and the other…
…the other was holding a suspiciously wet-looking whip like he knew how to use it.
Then Zoro managed to get himself turned around, and Sanji could see the deep, bloody welts slashed into his back.
These dishonorable bastards had the temerity to first drug a great warrior rather than facing him properly and then beat the shit out of him while he was down?
Sanji saw red, the bounty hunters saw a blur of black and gold, and then they saw nothing at all.
****
Start to finish, the fight had taken less than thirty seconds. It figured. Not even in death would these cowards give him proper satisfaction.
Zoro was still wobbling, even as Sanji pressed his swords into his hands and got him out of what was left of his shirt so that he could get a proper look at the swordsman’s back. It was ugly, but whatever those two had given Zoro was worse. Zoro’s pupils were dilated unsettlingly wide, he kept muttering about Marines, and he’d asked Sanji three times already where everyone else was. So Zoro wasn’t sure where he was, what had happened, or who he was with, and to top it off Sanji didn’t think Zoro could get from point A to point B if the two were in the same room with a clearly marked line connecting them. Well, at least the last part was nothing new.
It was going to be an interesting trip back to the Going Merry, but if he got his suit jacket over Zoro’s shoulders and let the swordsman lean on him, he thought he could pass him off as drunk. It would be a sacrifice—the lining of his jacket would never be the same—but he could take it out on Zoro when the man was sober.
As Sanji was settling his jacket around Zoro’s broader shoulders, the swordsman suddenly fell forward, making Sanji lose his balance and fall on his ass. Zoro wound up in a very awkward position between Sanji’s thighs. The jacket wound up in a puddle of bounty hunter goo. Fuck.
Zoro hadn’t properly passed out, though. He was still mostly conscious, and he looked pretty focused on Sanji’s face.
“You…what the hell did you do?” One of Zoro’s blood-smeared hands clamped down on Sanji’s tie, pulling the chef forward and half-strangling him in the process. Oh shit. Zoro thought Sanji had poisoned him. Given where the swordsman was lying, this promised to be painful.
Another firm yank, and Sanji couldn’t breathe. Zoro’s face was about two inches from his. Sanji stared into fixed, wide black eyes, saw blood flecking Zoro’s lips. Great. He was going to die by being throttled by his own tie, and then the shitty swordsman was going to keel over from his injuries. This was just perfect. It was exactly what Sanji got for being worri—pissed off about the marimo-head getting kidnapped.
“You stole my kill, you stupid piece of shit.”
And then Zoro passed out facedown on Sanji’s crotch. Sanji ripped his tie off and gulped gratefully for air. Thus oxygenated, Sanji looked down at the fuzzy green head currently resting on one of the more sensitive bits of his body.
Which was not responding to the feeling of Zoro’s warm breath through thin dress pants, goddammit. Sanji was not that hard up for sex yet.
Okay, maybe he was, but that was why Nami-san and Robin-chan existed—to be Sanji’s twin lights of hope.
Flushing with what was certainly not embarrassment, Sanji muttered, “I know you’re glad I saved you, but you can give me a blow job when we get back to the ship,” and pushed Zoro’s head up. Bastard better not have drooled on his pants.
“Zoro’s giving you a blow job? Can I watch?”
“DAMMIT, LUFFY!”
Later, after they’d carried Zoro back to the ship and Chopper had started treating him for an overdose of chloral hydrate, Sanji wondered why Luffy had looked so disappointed that his first mate wasn’t actually going down on his chef.
Sanji then promptly decided that he really, really didn’t want to know.