abysmal-black

AU Vinsmoke Sanji RP Blog

[abysmal-black]

➤ independent | selective| AU Vinsmoke Sanji I'm pretty lazy fair warning but I will do my best to get out replies asap (unless stated all art of emo sanji is drawn by me) controlled by: cannibal (they/she) || rules & about Expect mentions of familial and physical abuse, if you've seen wci you know how the Vinsmoke's are. I'm super chill so don't be scared to reach out or inbox Sanji things, he's kind of a dick but just depressed.

Multi-ship Multi-verse || +25 rper || IM's open || ( © )

[kenas-artstuff]

Quiet of the woods, drum of your heart

-

Comm for my dear partner @lakesandquarries U////U took ages but can finally call it done!

[pxison]

Everything Sanji says to him is catalogued in the part of his brain he thinks he can use against his siblings to make himself look better. If Sanji was too busy insulting him, he might just compromise the mission in the worst possible outcome which thankfully doesn't come to pass so he scraps that thought for now.

Gritting his teeth and bearing with it, ichiji stays back while watching Sanji work, keeping to the other side of the wall as he listens to the sounds of one to two men being taken out. Once the corridor was cleared, Ichiji turns the corner to take in heavy security doors closing off the way forward.

"What's wrong with doing it your way? You know it's probably more subtle than me blasting down steel doors." He huffs but he does have a trick up his sleeve still. Their father had decided it was important that Ichiji be able to control the intensity of his power and while that took more concentration and strain than normal, Ichiji knew he was capable of it.

Brushing his brother rudely to the side, Ichiji lets his power flow into his eyeballs and exerts control over the threshold of power he knew he had to avoid catastrophically destroying the doors and making too much noise than was necessary.

Pinpoint beams shoot from his pupils and begin quietly melting away at thick steel like butter. Tracing around the edges, Thick reinforced steel fall to the ground with a crash masked by the tumult waged above ground.

Ichiji's eyes flash with his receding power as he looks back at Sanji with an unbearable surge of self-importance.

"Be careful stepping over those now, those things are still hot, wouldn't want to risk your baby skin getting burned."

[abysmal-black]

Nostrils flare in a snort, Ichiji has jokes now? The red prince was never known for his sense of humor, bootlicking sure but little else. “I had to make you useful.” He shrugs stepping onto the fallen door, head on a swivel in the safety deposit room. Some of the drawers have been shaken loose with the battle up top but besides the emergency lights being on the room is intact.

Sanji hops down and beelines for the center of the room where a standing column of more drawers sits. Intel says there's another room below this one, all Sanji has to do is expose the safe dial, crack the code and slide in. “See if you can find a circuit breaker, there should be an observation room around here too.” As he speaks deft fingers slide along the edge of a lockedcase towards the top and with a firm push the metal panel gives with a click. The small door slides open revealing a snail input panel. The prince works surprisingly quickly, hands moving to the pouch on his back and the snail where he assembles a miniature delivery device that's suctioned to the keypad. At the open end fingers pull out a black vile and give it a shake before twisting into place. Inside the container a black slug yawns before sliding down to the keypad, slippery body easily squeezing between number pads with a squish. A breath passes and the snail's shell cracks, parasitic slug working as quick as it's matter. Sanji activates a switch that calls the creature back into the vial where it goes dormant again. Disassembling the gadget he collects the crumbled shell, bewildered looking snail and sets them aside. With the access panel out of the way, opening the hidden door is a matter of connecting a few wires and stepping back for gears to pull the column aside.

The opening is barely large enough for an adult worker but Sanji leaps into the dark, the fall just barely giving him room enough to stand without hunching. There are significantcaly less lock boxes in this room, all of which remained firmly in place surge the siege. The drawer he's come for is easily picked and pulled open. The target is small almost disappointing given all the work that's lead to it's retrieval but father made point to emphasize it's importance. Carefully, reverently Sanji plucks the reflective disk from it's case and transfers it to his own. Strangely the accomplishment doesn't reward him with much satisfaction, mission tangled with mistakes and near misses. He's positive Ichiji's intervention want necessary and is easy to blame him for the hallow feeling in his stomach. The feeling pressing persisting even after he's climbed from the hidden room.

"Let's get out of here."

[videcoeur]

"If that thing's like Enma, you can learn to control it." It was as simple as that. Did he think that Zoro had it easy? That controlling Enma's unquenchable thirst for blood came naturally? No, he had to fight back against the sword's very nature to learn to tame it, and even then, it wasn't always perfect. Sometimes, he wanted to hit with the back of the sword, but Enma hadn't allowed him to do so even once. Each time he used that sword, it drank liters of blood straight from the source, so Zoro only wielded it when he intended to kill.

His desire to poke fun at Sanji also almost had him say something like Sanji admitting Zoro was stronger- but now was not the time. If Sanji asked him to end him, then it wasn't time for their petty rivalry. As much as they disliked each other at times, as much as Zoro believed in him. Sanji is a strawhat after,r all.

"I didn't say anything because you hadn't done anything. A few stray black hairs and tired eyes shouldn't be enough to worry anyone." Black hairs? How much had Zoro looked at Sanji to know he had black hairs? Sanji sometimes missed a few on the back of his head, and Zoro noticed that was all.

"I'm also not saying fighting it out of you is the solution. But you're obviously pent up right now. Filled to the brim with energy you haven't been able to release. If what happened with Chopper is any indication, my guy, you need to release it. I'm only planning on exhausting you enough that we can build you back from the ground up. Maybe find a training regimen that keeps that energy at bay until our good doctor finds a chemical solution to your problem." Zoro's no doctor, but he's also no stranger to aggression, self-control, and unlimited need for violence. It's like everyone on the ship forgot who he was initially. A merciless bounty hunter who brought DOA pirates (mostly dead) for money.

"We'll reconvene if that doesn't work. I don't think you've got a better idea anyway." With that, he still isn't agreeing to brutally murdering his friend, but he's at least promising he's not letting him deal with it alone.

"You got a problem with that?"

[abysmal-black]

Control it?! As if Sanji hasn't already tried. None of this has ever been a problem … the opposite in fact. All those years of being locked away, beaten, broken because he wasn't right. The universe is too cruel. “I am that thing.” Mumbles it under his breath because even if he's opening up to the swordsman he can't fully allow him in. It's childish but Sanji is supposed to be strong, their king can't fly with one wing.

Eyes can't help but roll. If Zoro had been there to see first hand what his twins were like he'd understand a fraction of Sanji's fear. Hopelessness is easy, Zoro’s reasoning that Chopper could fix him is mildly reassuring. The little guy had promised he was ok but raising his hand to the doctor weighed on his soul. Chopper had been nothing but kind, even looking to him for reassurance.

Fuck, what's wrong with me. Why can't I do anything right?

“Yeah … pent up.” He doesn't sound sure, almost annoyed that something like excess energy could do this to him. “I'm not fucking fourteen Mossy.” Sure, he's used to the dry spells leaving land brings now but it doesn't feel like that. He's not jittery or smoking more than usual, hell being raised at sea all of this should be business as usual. “Whatever.” He shrugs and grabs for his joint, index tapping the ash out the window. “I've got nothing to lose but my life right?” A laugh. “I don't and …” For a single moment he wants blood. Wants Zoro to promise him he'll kill Judge after he's gone. That old bastard deserves it, something slow and painful but he's not sure if it's the modifications or not. Sanji's felt nothing but sadness when thoughts drifted towards his sire. He never wanted him, never tried to understand him.

“Fuck.” Tears curl over the apples of his cheeks and collect into his goatee. The last thing he needs right now is Zoro seeing him actually crying. “Yeah, sounds great.” Standing quickly he moves toward the stairs; needs to escape the others' presence. “I've got some stuff to take care of.” Zeff needs a letter, an apology and who knows how long that'll take to start.

[kiashieart]

"I like the taste of your lipstick"

[pxison]

It takes a long moment for Ichiji to be returned from that faraway place his mind had drifted off to. There had been no noise, no stress, almost too comfortable to simply float away and not have a care in the world. Their world was falling apart though, there was no one to answer to and Ichiji had quite literally snatched the crown with bloodied hands.

The issue surrounding how he rose to leadership would be dealt with in time as an inevitability, for now, there was a rotten core to be disposed of and he wouldn't let its stench further decompose and linger longer than necessary.

There would be no funeral, not for this bastard corpse.

"There isn't anything that needs to be done Sanji, not anymore. We can act as we like until the dust settles." And they will settle, he was forced to find a balance now. It was training that kept his voice unnervingly calm, his hands yet to wrest themselves from Judge's body now soaked and sticky with cooling blood.

"There is one last thing I must do now."

Their father now a deadweight took some effort on Ichiji's part to drag him across the floor and down a path closest to the outside, a trail of blood and viscera following him in his wake. He doesn't look at the corpse not once, focused eyes staring straight ahead as he trudges straight ahead unimpeded. The shock choking Germa into inaction gave him more than enough time to dispose of its tyrant into the sea, shaking arms lifting him with all the force he could muster to vault the body over the edge and down a long fall to the ocean below where fish and currents would tear him to pieces.

Good riddance. There would be no coronation that could possibly match this sudden wave of elation at the usurpation of a sore long overlooked. Bloodied but finally free, Ichiji lets salty winds whip at him as he lifts his arms and breathes deeply for the very first time.

[abysmal-black]

What does that even mean? Act as they like? Ichiji has to know nothing about this is normal, nothing about this dust will settle. Judge isn't the only member of the old guard. What about the scientists? They won't stand for this sort of thing, they still have free will. Yes, soldiers and wait staff can be cowed into subjugation but double six can't repair themselves. And what about their jobs? There are still several contacts they've already started operations for.

“Ichiji?” Mind stops racing, curly brows tight with question. What more could he possibly need to do? Sanji steps back when his brother begins to move, first tangled in Judge's uniform and dragging him out of the room. He should stop him, nothing he has planned good. Weight shifts to his far leg and he pushes forward only to stop again when he reaches dark puddle soaking clean into the stone. Bone and brain matter smear into the once grey rug, the trail his brother is leaving doing little to contain the mess and his own sanity.

A loud splash drives him onward through the door, following the grisly trail.

The red prince is alone, empty handed and standing at the stone railing when Sanji finds him. “What did you do!?” He's beside Ichiji in a blink, dark eyes big as they gaze down to the trashing water where the shadows of fish dance and feast on what's left of their sire. There's no sudden urge to jump in and retrieve the corpse, to pay it any respects beyond not pissing on his grave so he begins to laugh. It's slow at first, a string of disbelieving huffs and chuckles before he's actually laughing.

Had he ever laughed before this?

The sound is alien to his ears, warm and shaking his belly. “What the fuck?” Fingers run through mismatched black blonde hair and pull. There's a ugly wet dread that wants to bubble up from his stomach but he can't stop laughing. The joyous sound slows when Sanji finally looks away to find his brother again. “We should clean you up.” Words carry his smile.

One thing at a time. If Sanji thinks beyond that he's liable to jump from the snail's back. Joining Judge easier than the coming fallout.

[pxison]

Send me a scenario to my inbox that you'd like to roleplay with my muse. Remember to specify muse for multi-muse blogs! @abysmal-black asked: Prompt: Sanji being the first to find Ichiji after he's beat judge to death (: we haven't done anything with them slowly getting emotions back

News spreads like wildfire of the firstborn heir's treachery. It was a calculated move terrified whispers say even as Germa is alight with a fury confused as to where to point their weapons towards. None however have yet to approach where the King's body laid guarded ever so closely by the bloody hands responsible.

Soldiers, servants and scientists alike knew not how to approach the situation, only another of the royal family seemed most capable and so should any approach, they'd be permitted through in the hopes of ascertaining what should be done with Ichiji.

The prince himself remains knelt almost as if in a prayer but bloodied gloved hands remain held fast in the ruined collar of Judge's suit. The man hadn't been easy to fell but surprise of the audacity one of his own blood had to assault him did him in. There wasn't much of the man's face left to recognize him by as blood, brains, and bits of shattered teeth and skull littered his corpse like a morbid gory halo. Tainting that proud blonde mane a brilliant crimson as the pool beneath grew larger.

The King was dead, but who would take his place? Not a mad man, surely. For this heated display of rage uncharacteristic of the formally stoic prince would surely be punished. Not that Ichiji was in any position to protest his fate frozen and wide-eyed as he remains.

[abysmal-black]

Is he supposed to just believe the news? Why would any of them lie about something like this? A maid has found him in a panic, out of breath and wide eyed. All she could get out were the words: “Emergency. Ichiji.” It's so odd how the panic clenches at his stomach and bleeds into his muscles. Unlike his brothers who've had the luxury of being drip fed their missing pieces, Sanji's dam already had deep cracks and as a result the walls had burst. Gone were the weary nights of yearning and feeling wrong, now the horror's have come to roost.

Reiju 's already there at the door, arms crossed and posture impossibly tight. Niji isn't holding it together, slumped against the wall not far from the door and Yonji stood next to Reiju, purposely facing away. None of them speak as Sanji approaches and he's not sure what to do so he steps to the door and grips the handle with a sweaty palm.

“He did it.” A small voice to his right he can't recognize as Niji. Glancing down he sees goggles crushed in his twin's hands, headset suspiciously gone; thrown perhaps? Eyes slide back to the door as he presses forward, the heavy stretch of blood hitting him full in the face. Ichiji’s silhouette blots out the most gruesome parts of his crime but he recognizes shaggy riddons of golden hair puddled around him, a matching uniform heaped just beyond his brother.

Judge is dead.

The door closes softly behind him, back pressed against the sturdy wood. Sanji's ears are ringing, eyes unblinkingly staring forward. What are they going to do now? Judge is going to be upset. What do they tell the kingdom? Judge is going to want an explanation. Who do they report to now?

Their leashes are suddenly slack, choking pressure gone and what does one say now? The death of a leader is nothing new, Sanji's never stuck around to observe the fallout, the procedures and itemized list that need to be followed. Do they have a funeral? Do they lay him next to mother? What then? Is it business as usual? Who's in charge?

Who do they report to now?

“Ichiji.” The prince isn't sure when he crossed the room, time and space a thick jelly that's weighing him down. “What do we do? Tell me what to do. What do you need me to do?” A plea for any order, any thread of normalcy, any help he could offer.

[medicus-mortem]

@abysmal-black asked: For the birthday boy: This is probably a colossal waste of time; Law's had the run of Germa's liquor stores with very little recourse for months now. Fingers grip the bottle of Himbeergeist, top dipped in black wax with his royal cypher pressed into the shiny cap. The surgeon has to think he's some kind of sap by now ... But it's also just a bottle of booze. If Law looks any deeper than that who's really embarrassing themselves. Before he can talk himself out of it he sends the gift away with a maid. Instructs the young woman to leave it on the surgeon's bed side table with a note: So you don't have to wander too far. Birthday Boy!

   The Surgeon of Death paces in his quarters, mind working on a problem, as it always is. Books and files are splayed out upon his desk. Then are things he's supposed to have access to. The information given to him by Judge so he can work on what the Germa king has ordered him to. A problem that would be much easier to solve if these people weren't so secretive.

   He pauses, scratching at his hair and frowning. A knock interrupts him, his gaze turning to the door. He doesn't move towards it, instead sighing in irritation. He's about to shout at whoever is beyond that door to fuck off but then it opens, the entering maid assuming he isn't in. She jumps when she sees him and holds out a bottle, bowing her head.

   Still frowning he stalks over, taking the bottle and turning it about. Interesting. This is a type of liquor that was once made in Flevance, although the branding and date suggest it isn't from his home country. It appears someone has been paying attention to his studies. That's disconcerting. The maid, still appearing afraid, hands him a note. He takes it, reading it over and sighing. Ah, Stealth Black. Law will have to ask some pointed questions about invisibility and spying.

   "Thanks," Law says to the maid, surprising her some. "Could you tell Stealth-ya that if he wants to give me a gift he should do it in person. This whole sendin' maids is such rich asshole bullshit. He's got his own legs. Why not fuckin' use them?" A pause and a wicked grin. "And yes, say it exactly like that."

[abysmal-black]

She’s not saying that. 

As patient as the third prince is, the young woman won’t test his grace and end up reassigned to one of the other brother’s because the doctor doesn’t like that this is the way it’s done. None of these thoughts reach her face as she bends forward in a quick curtsy before scurrying back out the door to deliver his message.

Sanji is content to forget he’d even sent the bottle let alone expect a reply so promptly. The maid appears no worse for wear when he waves her in, attention occupied with his next mission’s briefing. “I take it he was present?” Sanji sighs, modifications fighting off most of the embarrassment but not the headache that wants to bloom between his eyes. “I assume he liked it and had nothing colorful to say.” As if, the surgeon couldn’t shut up or not speak his mind; vexing and mildly charming as it is.

The maid squints and sighs through her nose. “Dr. Trafalgar sends his thanks but would prefer the prince to deliver any gifts in person.” She smiles.

Law did not say that. 

The thought has laughter shaking his shoulders as a lazy wave dismisses the woman. Sanji spends the following hour reading through intel on his next target, and knows if he times it right he’d likely catch Law before he decides to wander for the night. Not jumping at every slight is good practice, he and Niji always looking for a reaction it seems. Sanji would be hard pressed to admit he’s grown to enjoy the gloomy doctor’s company, even if this will be the first time he’s sought it out. So, it’s when he follows through on his plans and ends up on the small balcony connecting to Law’s room he doesn’t knock and lets himself in.

“If you wanted to see me, you could have just said so.” He steps over the threshold, opting to leave the door open and allow the salty chill of the sea’s night to leak into the room.

[abysmal-black]

(@pxison - reg. Snooj suffering begins now 😈) There was a current of giddiness running through Niji as he sought after the blonde runt. So much time had been lost between his disappearance and reunion with the rest of the family that Niji was all too eager to make up for. In his clutches was an all too familiar helmet. This time resized to fit the cooks head should it be reapplied for old times sake. No matter where Sanji hid himself, he could never truly get away from any of his brother's torment. The sickening grin Niji was wearing only grew when he finally found the little scumbag and the helmet within his possession was presented in full view as though he took pride in all the memories it held. “Remember this Sanji? Those pretty little bracelets you're wearing are nice and all, but I thought you'd look even better in this. Doesn't it take you back? Why don't we both go down memory lane, I'm sure the other two would like to join in as well for old times sake.”

Contentment is long gone, all Sanji can hope for is silence. Being left alone with his own thoughts is preferable to his twin's company and for the most part they've left him alone. No longer is he the small boy that can't defend himself, begging for his sires help to call off the dogs he called brothers. It would be empowering if the mental scars didn't ache. Everything is the same, almost untouched by time in the years he's been absent. There is some sliver of solace that his mother's grave is kept tidy, her ghost not wandering these dreary halls.

It's in the cathedrals that the chef spends most of his time, beauty and color rare on Germa. Inside hallowed walls it almost seems like another place, foot traffic kept low and thick walls drowning out the drone of combat drills and weapons testing. It's as serene of a hideaway he can hope for and passes most of his time with a book of napping in the pulpit for privacy.

Today however, he's been found out.

Niji is loud as usual, any attention good attention. Sanji makes a point to not even glance up at the man as he nears, neatly rolled joint maneuvered to the other corner of his mouth and page turned. Whatever he wants isn't good but the cook feigns an air of nonchalant hoping he'll leave.

Curiosity sets him on edge; there are very few things his twin could be referring to and single viable eye opens fully. Why would they still have that thing? Throat clenches suddenly dry, anxiety crawling up his neck like a cold towel. He knows what it is without looking, can still feel the weight of heavy steel closed around his skull and panic grips his heart. Can hear the painful thumping in his ears of racing heart. Knows if he doesn't act know Niji will push the matter and after all these years Sanji can't go back. He can't survive the cell, the mask, this place. Are his hands worth his sanity? If they are gone would his kidnappers find him useless again?

“Fuck off.” It's meek where he wants to growl. “I'm not in the mood.” He's never in the mood and fingers turn another page. “Get lost or I'll fillet you.” This time his voice doesn't crack, the threat very real even if it's carried by bravado.

[nightprompts]

&. 𝐫𝐢𝐯𝐚𝐥𝐬 (𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬?) 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬.

(  various  dialogue  prompts  to  send  to  your  worst  enemy  (affectionate).  feel  free  to  change  how  you  seem  fit.  )

❛ oh great, it's you again. ❜

❛ you? kill me? that's funny. ❜

❛ for being someone you hate, i'm sure on your mind a lot. ❜

❛ you're the last person i wanted to see, actually. ❜

❛ do us both a favor. stay away from me. ❜

❛ you really are an asshole, you know that? ❜

❛ i'm the asshole? what does that make you then? ❜

❛ sometimes i think you must hate me. ❜

❛ i thought you said you never wanted to see me again. ❜

❛ if you want me to go, then you have to tell me to leave. ❜

❛ well, someone's cranky today. ❜

❛ well, someone needs to shut the fuck up. ❜

❛ just stay out of my way. ❜

❛ of all the idiots in the world, i'm stuck with you. ❜

❛ what is it you want this time? ❜

❛ sometimes i wonder if you're in love with me. ❜

❛ do you honestly think this is easy for me? ❜

❛ why would i ever want to be friends with you? ❜

❛ can we please just talk? ❜

❛ there is nothing for us to talk about. ❜

❛ you can yell at me later. just let me help you. ❜

❛ touch me, and you're dead. ❜

❛ oh, so now you care? ❜

❛ there is something deeply wrong with you. ❜

❛ i know i'm the last person you probably want to see, but... ❜

❛ you don't think we could be friends, do you? ❜

❛ i'm tired of fighting against you. ❜

❛ don't pretend you give a shit about me. ❜

❛ you're an idiot, but... i trust you. ❜

❛ oh, don't be cute. ❜

❛ wait, did you just say that i'm cute? ❜

❛ we're not good for each other. ❜

❛ if i say yes, will you shut up? ❜

❛ don't you have to be stupid somewhere else? ❜

❛ maybe we should kiss just to break the tension. ❜

❛ i'm sorry i can't turn off my feelings as easily as you. ❜

❛ maybe there's a universe out there where we're friends. ❜

❛ how can you be so smart yet so dumb at the same time? ❜

❛ don't think this changes anything between us. ❜

❛ you look ridiculous in that outfit, by the way. ❜

❛ if you die, i'll kill you. ❜

❛ is that a challenge? ❜

❛ ah, so you're not heartless after all. ❜

❛ i don't think i've ever seen you smile. ❜

❛ you never cared about me, so why now? ❜

❛ why didn't you kill me when you had the chance? ❜

❛ i don't even remember why we started fighting. ❜

❛ i don't have time for distractions right now. ❜

❛ you're not as bad as everyone says you are. ❜

❛ enemies make the best lovers, you know. ❜

[abysmal-black]

tag dump, we're getting organized

[medicus-mortem]

@abysmal-black sent in a Boyfriend / Girlfriend Application: How long have you had a crush on me? “Depends, you’re really annoying but I like that. Your longest streak is a week.” If I called you at 3 AM would you be mad? “No, I’m probably awake too.” Where would you take me for our first date? Sanji frowns and grumbles, it’s not embarrassing but he’d rather not say. “Maybe Kalico riding … And we share a bottle of wine somewhere nice.” What’s my favorite movie? “Fuck if I know, I haven’t seen any.” How about my favorite food? “What’s with all these questions? Only thing I’ve seen you ‘eat’ is our booze you’ve stolen.” If I said yes, how happy would you be? “Tsk, doubt you’ll say yes but … I honestly don’t know.” Do you love me? “Woah!” He snorts shaking his head. “I don’t even know you. Do you love me? Yeah sounds weird right?” Is this for real or just a fling? “A fling. Be real this couldn’t be more than that…” Sanji glances away bitterly.

   The doctor smirks at this, amused that Stealth Black would actually go to the effort of answering these stupid questions. Honestly, it's just fun seeing the guy engage in some of this shit and the frankly the form in this magazine is definitely more on the childish side for Law. Stupid trash tabloids.

   "You had a crush on me for an entire week?" Law says, raising an eyebrow at Sanji. "How fucking embarrassing." A snort and then he dumps the magazine in the trash. Hand rises to pat Sanji on the shoulder before Law continues with his stride. "Maybe I will let you take me Kalico riding. Might be fun to see what royal Germa courting rituals look like."

[abysmal-black]

"Killing you with my mind right now." What the hell did he even see in this asshole for a week and two seconds before now. Killing Law is the only way out of this, of all the emotions he had to get why indignation and shame. "Maybe we can stop by the beach and I can fucking drown you!" Fingers swat at the doctor's hands with a sharp jerk.

"Tsk, bastard."

[videcoeur]

Getting to the crow's nest is only a question of two or three well-timed jumps. Zoro reaches the top fairly quickly and is surprised to see that Sanji's taking his sweet time—not something expected, but it definitely adds weight to this already heavy atmosphere. If Sanji wasn't competing, even for something as trivial as 'getting to the top first,' it was definitely a good indicator of his state of mind.

By the time he was up there, Zoro had time to wash away the sweat with a clean towel and reflect a little on how they were going to have this talk. He knew already what this was about. He'd noticed the agitation, the increased stress responses, and Sanji's tired traits. The man was clearly losing it despite holding himself just strongly enough for the others not to notice.

Zoro let Sanji talk, and he observed, as he always did. And then, he got angry. In a matter of seconds, he'd closed the distance with Sani and threw his fist as strongly as he could, no holds barred. Zoro even coated his fist with haki, so unless Sanji parried, there was a strong chance he would crash against the steel-reinforced walls of the Crow's Nest.

There had been one too many accidents and far too much destruction up there, so Franky eventually obliged Zoro's request to toughen up his little training spot. Sanji's body might not break through the wall if the fist collided with his face, but if the fist landed, no matter where it would hurt.

But what Sanji probably didn't expect was why Zoro was angry. It wasn't about nearly choking Chopper to death - no. He trusted the reindeer could have fought back if his life was in danger. Zoro wasn't mad about Chopper, worried, yes, but not angry. He was mad that Sanji had waited this long to come to him.

"I've known for about a month that something was off," Zoro said, teeth gritting against each other. "I thought you were handling it." Zoro was mad he hadn't seen how much it affected Sanji. He was furious at himself for not trusting the signs. It meant he had a blind spot, too, and he couldn't allow himself to have that.

"That rage you're feeling. That blinding thing that's growing inside of you." He was not a man of many words, let it be known. Zoro had always been more of a man of action, and that's probably why Sanji chose him for that task. That said, even if Zoro did agree to take care of him should he become a problem, he never agreed to give up easily.

"Let's try fighting it out of you. You're not that much of a coward that you're giving up without at least trying. In two days' time, we're touching land, and we'll be staying at least for a week. Let's spend that entire time exhausting it out of you." In Zoro's mind, what Sanji really needed was to blow off some steam. That suit probably triggered something aggressive, and the only way to overcome this is to get rid of this pent-up aggression. A simple solution, really. And no one was more apt to fight Sanji for days than Zoro.

Zoro would just have to convince Luffy to spend a little more on restaurants on their next trip, as he needed to do something with Sanji. He'll figure out something - at least, convincing Luffy wouldn't be too hard. The others may be a bit harder.

"I'm not letting you give up, curly brow."

[abysmal-black]

One moment he's understandably feeling sorry for himself and the prospect of not keeping his oldest promise the next he's on the business end of a haki laced punch. Teeth rattle around in his jaw while body violently jerks back into the wall which sends the entire crows nest shaking before he crumples forward into his waiting palm. “What the fuck is your problem?!” Hand nurses around his quickly swelling cheek, modifications only working when they want to apparently but even now he can feel the metal popping and cracking to right itself. “I'm baring my soul to you and you hit me?!” Sanji sucks his teeth, snarl flicking up to meet the swordsman.

“I WAS you gorilla!” Keyword is was because there's no chance in hell he'd open up to this idiot about random black hairs and the occasional singed floorboards. Still … a month? Zoro had known that long and still allowed him to wander around the other's freely? Should he be flattered the swordsman believes in him so much or annoyed he sat on the sidelines for so long? As usual anger is easier to fall back on when it comes to Zoro. “Why didn't you say something dumbass?” The heat fizzles into confusion, curly brows pinching. “What the hell are you on about?” Fighting it out? Sure Niji and Yonji were always ready to go but it couldn't be that simple. Judge wouldn't build them to be so easily exhausted. A part of him wants to hope it's that easy, a few dozen rounds and this evil is purged from his core.

Exhaling Sanji picks himself up and takes his seat, eyes briefly glancing around to find his joint. “Two days is a long time.” Fingers pinch still lit cigarette with passing annoyance before placing the now bent paper between his lips. “If I'm not fixed …” Luffy is bound to throw another fit and everyone else follow suit. Wry smile tugs at the corner of his lips. Those idiots won't stop fighting for him, it's exhausting but the warm feeling in his chest feels like home.

“I—” Brow lifts, dark eyes landing on Zoro and he feels a wetness budding against his eyeline. This idiot is determined to protect everyone again, even him. Sanji coughs and glances out the window. “Look, I don't have any plans of giving up but I… can't control my body.” How the hell is he supposed to explain this? Frustration has slim fingers running through his hair. “Ok look.” Two fingers gesture at the swords on the other's hip. “It's kinda like Enma, or any cursed sword, it's got a will of its own. I wield my body but sometimes it doesn't listen. That's the nature of a curse in exchange for power.” The analogy is solid enough with his understanding of the raid suit and vague memory of anatomy lessons on Germa. “I don't know why or how the suit did it but you promised to put me down if it became a problem." The swordsman is good for one thing. Even if he saw his death as a failure (and why would he) the crews safety is all that matters. "I can't ask anyone else to do it." Something that wants to be an apology liners at the end of his sentence, eyes hidden in a curtain of his hair.

[medicus-mortem]

   “Alright,” the doctor says with a shrug. A response to Sanji’s refusal to his operation offer. He can see that might be a bit of a sore spot and he won’t push the subject. He does have a habit of forcing operations on people who need them, even if they’d refuse, but that was in life saving situations. This isn’t. Still, the doctor in him can’t help adding something more for Sanji to think about. “It’s not an invasive procedure. Just gotta shove a hot piece of metal up your nose and sear a blood vessel but I won’t push the issue.”

   With the ice pulled from his patient’s neck the doctor intends on removing himself from Sanji’s lap. He’s got bloody paper towels to clean up and his hands to wash, but the Germa prince slides a hand on Law’s thigh, that hand moving on to his ass. An eyebrow arcs at that. Getting handsy when he had seem so determined to move this elsewhere not so long ago. Does he want to hide this or not? The doctor tilts his head, pretending no to notice the finger slipping under his shirt, and focuses on Sanji’s nose. He even brings a hand to Stealth Black’s jaw, gripping it so Law can shift his head to give a proper inspection.

   “Looks good enough,” Law drawls, releasing Sanji’s jaw when he continues his tone is more doctorly than seductive. “If it happens again and you’re gettin’ lightheaded I expect you to tell me.”

    With that Law slides backwards of Sanji’s lap and stands up, pulling himself from the other man’s touch. His job as a doctor isn’t done yet. He needs to clean up, so he gathers up the improvised ice pack and the bloody paper towel. For a brief moment Law realises he’s found the perfect opportunity to steal a sample of Sanji’s blood. A way to get a glimpse at his genetic structure and do some tests. His jaw works in its sockets, the Surgeon of Death truly thinking about this. At the same time, he has a question to answer.

   “It’d take too long to list ‘em all,” he replies after a thoughtful pause, throwing another smirk in Sanji’s direction. “But you should probably be prepared for some edging and teasing. I’m a sadistic asshole in all parts of my life.”

[abysmal-black]

More information doesn't make what amounts to a superficial surgery sound more appealing. The quirk is more messy than annoying, why does Law even care? It's impressive how sharply the pirate could change task: from arrogant sleeze to pushy doctor to—

Smooth hand finds his jaw, casual touch sending adam's apple bobbing in his throat, spine suddenly a little straighter. Law can't be doing this on purpose, not after the mess he insists on mopping up. Chest feels two sizes too small and he wants to glance away even if it's only a moment it feels too intimate to meet the other's eyes. It's pathetic but actually getting this far is daunting. Thankfully the moment is fleeting, Law's hand is retreating and Sanji can relax, the tickle in his nose ready to start again. “Uh-huh.” Clears his throat with a cough, if he dies he dies. It's not exactly how he saw it happening and it's worlds better than he deserves. 

That long? Restlessly he stands, needs to pace, to move, mind second guessing the encounter again. Sanji doesn't fear making a fool of himself, by all accounts that's out of the way. Worst case scenario he enjoys himself too much and not knowing what that would look like is what's bothering him now. Technically it doesn't sound like anything he hasn't already done to himself; experimenting kills time when sleep is hard to come by.

Rounding the back of the booth they had occupied. It's the excitement he tells himself, getting exactly what he wants, a totally foreign concept. "Sounds a little tamed, was expecting devil fruit shenanigans." As he speaks legs carry him to the door where he lingers a moment longer. A snort. "Can't get you to not use it most of the time. Regardless, I'm going to head out. You can leave the mess for a maid."

Sanji doesn't exhale fully until he's rounded a corner and he's still smiling. Smiles all the way to his room and for once doesn't lock the door behind him. Like his siblings, Sanji's chambers reflect their assigned color. white and black marble spans the length of the room, large gray silk sheet bed rest against the bow wall which also has tall inlaid shelves that carry books he favors or plans to read, and cook books from his mother's collection along with small decorations he's gathered in the travels. Next to his bed is a shiny leather reclining couch standing on golden claw feet, a secondary reading location when the balcony windows have the drapes pulled. In combat situations the terrace accordions into his room, railing doubling as a blast shield when extruded to cover the windows. At the far wall of the balcony there is a hidden switch that houses his birds. A closely guarded secret that's kept him from going insane more than a few times. At the stern end of the room is another small sitting area and fireplace intended for guest he never has but attentive maids keep dustless. On the same wall as the fireplace is a set of narrow double doors that lead to his closet and adjoined private bathroom with multi-jet shower and bidet.

In the time it takes Law to arrive, Sanji busies himself by pulling out his box of toys and lubricant stored in a false back on the bookshelf. It's no doubt modest given Law’s preferences but it's better than nothing. Before his mind can conjure an endless list of questions of what he should be doing, he ventures into his closet which is also home to a collection wine and spirits. With two glasses and an eighty-year-old burgundy Burdusk he moves to his recliner side table where a wine key waits.

[medicus-mortem]

@abysmal-black asked: “Are you all right?” Panic Attack Starters

    This is not the idea moment for this but panic attacks hardly every come at the best of times. Even on the Tang, with his crew and the people he trusts, Law prefers to keep these moments hidden. Controlling himself as best he can until he’s alone and he can let himself fall apart. Right now, with these people and in this crowd, that is less of an option.

   Law should have prepared himself for this. Should have made his mind ready for the possibility of seeing that pink feathered bastard in the same room as the Germa royalty, but he didn’t. Between the work Judge as him doing and the hunt for information from the Germa 66 scientists Law didn’t have the width of thought to even consider this. But there he is, with those stupid sunglasses and his unsettling constant grin. Oh, how Law wants to become small. How he wishes to melt away into the shadows and not be seen. That fear of Doflamingo is still so strong, even after all these years.

   If the man looked this way, if he noticed Law, what would he do? Law feels in danger. He feels unprepared. He knows he’s not ready to face his monster, not yet. He feels like that child again, willing to do what the monster said to get strength and yet still so terrified of his displeasure.

   “Yeah, I’m fuckin’ peachy,” Law snarls, fingers twitching as he feels his breath hitch in his lungs. His vision has tunnelled, focusing on that looming presence. Doflamingo turns and the doctor finds himself hunching, making himself smaller. He steps back, a need to flee gripping him.

   “I need some air,” he grunts as an excuse to Sanji and turns on his feet, almost running to the nearest exit.

[abysmal-black]

Foolishly, Sanji thought they were past this stage. His concern is an observation rather than taking any real emotional que. Law is many things, confusing, annoying, a bastard but he's never been scared. Sanji recognizes the emotion, seen it before on targets but never Law. The surgeon is always smug, measured and controlled so why now?

The prince falls out of step with his father and siblings, eyes doing a quick scan of the crowd to find the source of this sudden discomfort. A criminal science symposium isn't exactly filled with the best people but let Law tell it he's one of the worst here and yet he's shrinking in on himself like cornered prey without so much as a look shared between him and this monster he wants to hide from. Only then does he spot what the pirate has focused on and brows knit. A Warlord? Germa has done business with Doflamingo in the past, he wasn't exactly lacking in manpower but some messages needed an impersonal touch. Sanji’s never spoke to him directly but his money is good just like everyone else's.

Before he can take a step towards the doctor Law’s bolting, leaving the prince confused for lack of a better word. Worried perhaps? That reaction was visceral, learned but it's none of his business until catching up with Judge and trying to explain the surgeon's sudden departure. The whole point of this trip was to gather materials on Germa’s dime and strengthen contacts.

Frustration bleeds into the patriarch’s face, eyes closing before he lets out a deep sigh. “Bring him back, you're his shadow. What part of that don't you understand Sanji?” Judge turns away, Ichiji smirking beyond him before he too turns away. The message is clear: Go fetch.

Following the angry or curious faces of people the man has shoved past leads Sanji in the general direction of an exit and to his surprise the doctor didn't scurry all the way back to the ship. “Trafalgar, what the hell is your problem?” Hand closes around the other's bicep and pulls hard enough to hopefully shake off whatever this spell is; grip ering in too tight to keep him captive if he decides to run again. "I don't feel like dealing with Judge or Ichiji, we're going back." Today is suppose to be easy, boring even. Sanji hangs back, Ichiji chats up clients, Judge attempts to collect more junk he doesn't need and Law doesn't make any of that difficult.

[pxison]

"Nothing's going to be good enough for him of all people." Yonji sneers, leaning back against his cot when the effort of moving became too much. That, or the shitty doctors got his morphine levels wrong, and he was beginning to feel fried nerve endings scream in his damaged chest and arm stump.

Thinking was not Yonji's strong suit, everybody knew that. But at least he'd be given time to think up something so that a psych evaluation would not be a consideration. The youngest twin otherwise content to watch Sanji go until boredom blanked his mind again.

Ichiji in the meantime busy as always worked to comb through every detail of the mission results in what amounted to a war room from which strategies were discussed and planned out. It was a miracle he wasn't hunched over his own desk but the anomaly that was Yonji's decison must've provoked him to stray into more public areas of stone spires.

Dead eyes look from the tops of the usual shades when he sees Sanji, lips tightening into a thin line when he beckons him closer.

"Tell me what happened from your point of view Sanji. You were there when Yonji disobeyed his orders, so maybe you can help begin to explain for what purpose he strayed from his intended position to support you."

[abysmal-black]

The long walk to Ichiji's location is that much longer with the dark prince's leisurely pace. For once, Sanji is just as dumbfounded as his twin. Then there's the matter of what to tell Ichiji and what he wants to hear. The truth: Sanji has no idea what the hell came over Yonji and he performed first-aid after their twin went down.

The truth answered nothing and unfortunately opened Yonji up to questions ...

Frown deepens, a crop of red hair always spoiling his mood when it comes into view. Ichiji skips pleasantries as usual, mind focused singularly on the task before him. "I was in pursuit of my target. A stray shell collapsed the floor when I cornered him forcing me to give chase atop the battlements." Nothing but the facts so far and he continues without pause. "There were soldiers positioned on the walkway impeding my capture, being as he needed to be taken in alive I kept up the foot chase, finally getting my hands on him but I didn't notice that we had ended up in the path of another shell. Next thing I know Yonji body blocks the target from being turned to mist. I secure the target and begin doing what I can to keep Yonji from bleeding out."

Ichiji doesn't need to know what they said or about the wet anxiety that rattled in his chest, movements frantic, mind panicked beyond belief. "Medics arrive some time soon thereafter taking over and the rest was business as usual." A small shrug, bored easy to play across his face. "From my point of view, Yonji saw my pursuit and the shelling. He either moved in to assist with the capture or preserve the man's life. I spoke with him and he doesn't remember. I assume from the impact or blood lose." Assumptions, not facts but it's plausible given the circumstances. More believable than Yonji attempting to save his twins life.

[abysmal-black]

Accommodating Niji lasted all of five seconds. Sanji is quick to elbow his brother hard in the chest, if they allowed him to use his dick he would but Sanji wasn't going to come to blows over sex either. All that mattered was he got off, he could do without the mocking.

One finger has him curiously glancing over his shoulder, three fingers has eyes rolling up and hand hovering, trying to decide if he should rip the digits out or beg him to add the missing two. Sanji could do it and briefly he wonders if Ichiji would like to watch. Niji's fist a blur in his loud squelching hole, thighs splayed open like a common whore. Cumming all over himself, hands free but Niji keeps going, fucks him right through his orgasm again and again to leave Sanji drooling and babbling, a shallow crater of the Germa prince.

Filthy thoughts have his heart racing while hips roll down for more friction, hands frantically helping his twin push pants out of the way. He's warm, the tip of Niji's curved cock is welcomed in, muscles eagerly slurping him to the base and clench. Better than any silicone Sanji could work up with his hands, the first throws of pleasure light up nerves in his back and thighs. "Nnh fuck, that's it." He groans as hands find either side of his brother's thighs for leverage, Niji already fucking into him with that delicious speed.

"Tsk." Of course he compares him to a whore, his dick thoroughly wet and all pretense tossed aside. "Nnh. As if you've ever got a woman wet." Words are broken by slurred pants, body rocking back and force with each thrust, endorphins almost turning his stomach. "You're a glorified sex toy." Laughter barks around a loud moan, Sanji finally planting his feet to fuck himself back into Niji, bed too beginning to moan beneath them.

Oh, he needed this. The sweat that already cliff to them, Niji's breathing pitching up in his ear and squishing of moist skin to skin. Sanji's cock sat fat with blood flopping and bouncing out riddons of pre-cum already. "Hhah just– fuck just like that!"

[pxison]

Niji would respond with a cutting remark if he wasn't busy mouthing on Sanji's tits. He'd always been a breast man and if he closed his eyes maybe he could pretend he is playing with a broad's fun bags. The illusion would only break within seconds upon feeling hard muscle beneath his lips. This only made him rougher, biting hard enough to bruise and maybe draw blood in some places as he continues to linger and toy with either pec.

Growling low in his throat as an animalistic response, Niji gathers Sanji up in his arms slams he back on the bed, so he was lying atop his brother and had more to work with. The angle change allowed him to go deeper and when he grabs a kicking ankle, he is able to somewhat force Sanji to flex back into a position which furthers his reach.

Still, that hole was too damn soft, and the lack of tense expressions frustrated Niji slightly. What could he possibly do to change that? There was an idea forming that was positively devious and yet Niji knew it would only work if he had his brother sopping even more with a mixture of lube and cum. The idea of overstimulation caused a thrill to run down his spine to his toes and his pace quickened if that were possible.

Niji's mouth in the meantime occupied itself with Sanji's shoulder, close enough now for the filth he spouts to be heard over all the wet fleshy smacking competing with squeaks of bedsprings. "Mm, is that right? Bet I'm better than anything you play with, can't beat flesh and blood after all."

The entire time Niji had been aiming to beat Sanji in the race for orgasm in order to make his idea a reality, thoughts in his head combined with clenching heat enough to make him plunge down and shoot a load inside that brought a stirring current to life in an organ hidden beneath flesh and exoskeleton, ready to be released at a moment's notice.

[abysmal-black]

Hiss draws lips back in a tight snarl, Sanji determined to bite back the pained groan from his twins persistent teeth. A bruise rare, blood and pain rarer still but it's good. Heat lights up his chest, thighs wobbling when the two fires mix. Orgasm hits him full force without warning, jaw loosening to whimper as Sanji throws his head back. For a moment he thinks his feet slip, body going rigid as static poisons his muscles but the slippery push of silk sheets on his back says otherwise.

Vision struggles to focus, hands instinctually moving to grab for his brother, to parry the strange hold he forces him into but Niji's moving again. Back arches with a growled shout, pleasure beat into the yielding walls of his hole and it easily sends Sanji into overstimulation. In that moment he can't be bothered with his brother's petty tauts, warm cotton carrying him aloft in a wall of frenzied pleasure. If their encounter was just this; Niji fucking him like a machine through a dizzying stream of orgasms Sanji would have wept. Instead pain flexes up his back at the speed of light and he can't catch the scream that leaves his throat.

He's been on the receiving end of Niji's electricity countless times but never this intimately.

The prince is panting, limbs twitching, buzzing with electricity and it takes a few seconds for recognition to gather in his eyes, modifications in his skin fluttering from the overload to his system. Light and color bend and shimmer across his flesh, colors fighting along the tapestry of conduits before finally settling on the proper shade of tan. That's never happened before but Sanji has no time to process the light show he just put up because his shitty older brother just zapped him in the asshole.

Powerful legs flex, crunching down and around the blue prince's waist before abdominals activate to force Niji to his back. Sanji uses the leverage to curl forward in a straddling position, hole safely emptied and lungs panting. "You fucking bastard!" Fist finds the other's face in two solid blows. "What's your problem?" Wasn't it enough he came to him ready and willing? Why the fuck did he want to hurt him? Can't beg Niji to be normal, none of this is close to normal but fuck can't be at least be decent?!

Frustrated snarl takes his features, thoughts tightening against Niji's sides to kill his squirming. Should be continue? Pressing his luck with another brother isn't ideal but neither is being electrocuted into orgasms.