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In 1979, on an unassuming Sunday evening, after the church is locked, Father Sanji takes a leap of faith and puts everything on the line to seek a greater truth.
In a timeless space, from the frontlines of war in a fight among beasts, a wounded demon is summoned to a random, church sanctuary on a cold night in 1979, meeting a terrified, blond priest.Or...Sanji accidentally summons a demon marimo, who awakens more than knowledge.
Bookmarked by MovingOn
22 Dec 2024
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The tragedy of being a pirate while also wanting to have a meaningful first sexual experience with someone of importance was this: it was statistically unlikely to ever happen.
Bookmarked by MovingOn
21 Dec 2024
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Sanji is the failure of the Vinsmoke Royal family. Day after day, they try to beat him into the prince he was born to be, but it just isn't working -- it's never worked.
Then a stolen sword finds its way into the kingdom, the man who owns it soon to follow.
It's going to take one hell of a swordsman to cut Sanji free. And eventually, the Vinsmokes will tire of stringing along such a worthless prince. It's only a matter of time.
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- English
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- 25/25
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Bookmarked by MovingOn
17 Dec 2024
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If Sanji knew about Kuina, he didn’t let on, just finished clearing off the table he was working on and gestured for Zoro to sit. “Blueberry pancakes?” he asked once Zoro slipped into the booth.
The normalcy of the phrase made his heart burst and break within the same breath, but he did his best to answer with a nod. The boy’s familiar kitchen yell barely registered in his ears, fading in and out like a secret under water. Zoro couldn’t believe he was doing this without her—eating her favorite meal… having the audacity to move forward. But what else could he do? Who else was he, if not her best friend?
or,
Sanji’s family owned a diner and Zoro would go most Sundays to eat blueberry pancakes, yearn, and grieve.
Bookmarked by MovingOn
08 Dec 2024
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Usopp, always one to fill the gaps, pitched in. “Where’s your third earring?”
Way to focus on the important shit, Sanji thought wryly, guiltily ignoring that the question had burdened his mind as well.
“On a decapitated head.”
And there was a lot about that sentence—that one, monotone sentence—that struck discord. Sanji, apparently, was not the only one who thought so.
“Bro, what?” Franky whispered from around the back. It was followed by Brook’s disturbed and dampened ohohohos.
“Zoro.” It was Chopper this time. Small and timid. “What happened to you?”
“I made a promise,” Zoro said, tilting his head back and closing his eye. His blood-splattered hands spread wide by his hips, palms forward, and it looked strangely religious, the way he angled towards the sun. “And I kept it.”
***Beware spoilers for at least until the end of Wano.***
Bookmarked by MovingOn
07 Dec 2024