(no subject)
Jul. 31st, 2022 03:37 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
der_jemand posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
120_minutenTeam: Mittelerde
Challenge: Krimi/Horror/Thriller: Alte Rivalen (fürs Team)
Fandom: One Piece
Charaktere: Zoro und Sanji
Warnung:nicht sonderlich grafische poetrisierte Gewalt
Wörter: 620
A/N: Ich hatte noch irgendwo andere Sachen angefangen und andere Ideen, dachte ich, aber... nein. Zorro und Sanji. Und ein Versuch von "Horror".
The Wings of the future Pirate King, they called them. Which was awfully poetic and not at all untrue, Nami thought. Them being directly behind Luffy, on his left and right, was what allowed their captain to soar, after all.
The name just left out all the nitty, gritty details.
"You take care of them!" Luffy shouted and propelled himself forward, slamming into the Vice Admiral without looking back, without specifying who 'you' or 'them' were. Not that he needed to. Blackleg Sanji cracked his neck and placed a cigarette between his lips before glancing to his right, to the Demon of the East Blue who answered with a toothy grin.
"Try to keep up, cook!"
"Way ahead of you, marimo!"
And he was. Legs ablaze, Sanji jumped up into the air as if gravity didn't mean a thing to him. He twisted midair, rolled over and his shoes slammed into a marine's face. The sickening sound of a neck snapping was what send them all into motion. Marines shouted, Usopp screamed, Nami ducked, Zoro mowed through a line of attackers. Guts spilled, blood sprayed and Nami was distracted by her own fight.
When she got a moment to breathe again, most of the others were still close to her, engaged in their own skirmishes. Robin twisted a neck, Brook's sword clashed with a soldier's blade. But way ahead of them, Zoro slammed through a fortress wall as if through plywood, using the momentum to butcher the sharp shooters behind it, a fountain of blood erupting around him. Sanji dropped from the sky like some kind of twisted avenging angel, leg extended, heel crushing a man's skull. Blood and brain matter soaked his dress pants and he laughed. "Thirty-four, marimo."
The bisected body of a soldier dropped before him into the mud like an offering. "Thirty-six. You're lagging behind."
Sanji gave the swordsman the finger. "I'm giving you a head-start, is all."
Zoro's grin around the sword hilt was broad and happy and blood-stained. "Tell yourself whatever you need to."
A foot shot out and kicked away the blade coming for Zoro's back. Zoro's sword decapitated a man taking aim at Sanji.
The Wings of the future Pirate King moved in perfect synchronicity, dodging, jumping, swirling around each other, counting kills and yelling insults. They wove around each other, always finding their way back to each other as if pulled in by an invisible line. Luffy got to soar and Zoro and Sanji would go down together, tethered to each other, drowning in a sea of blood of their own creation.
Everything about it was awfully poetic.
And messy, and violent, and monstrous.
They enjoyed this, Nami knew. They enjoyed the blood and the violence as much as their usual competition. They egged each other on, pushed each other further, reveled in watching the other kill and laugh in delight. They were an honorable demon and a vicious angel, fire and sea, volatile, erratic and oh so predictable. They were the same and entirely too different.
Rivalry, they called it. Love, Robin called it. Idiots, Nami thought.
Monsters, everybody else agreed.
They were the Wings of the future Pirate King and a pair of idiots who bickered and argued about everything and nothing at all. They were impossibly fast, inhumanely strong and laughably soft around their crew.
Swords sliced through marines. Bones shattered under fine dress shoes. Above all, Luffy snickered.
Their captain soared and Blackleg Sanji and the Demon of the East Blue kicked and slayed and butchered their way deeper into hell. Back to back, identical blood-stained smiles on their faces.
Rivals. Lovers. Idiots.
Monsters.
Challenge: Krimi/Horror/Thriller: Alte Rivalen (fürs Team)
Fandom: One Piece
Charaktere: Zoro und Sanji
Warnung:
Wörter: 620
A/N: Ich hatte noch irgendwo andere Sachen angefangen und andere Ideen, dachte ich, aber... nein. Zorro und Sanji. Und ein Versuch von "Horror".
The Wings of the future Pirate King, they called them. Which was awfully poetic and not at all untrue, Nami thought. Them being directly behind Luffy, on his left and right, was what allowed their captain to soar, after all.
The name just left out all the nitty, gritty details.
"You take care of them!" Luffy shouted and propelled himself forward, slamming into the Vice Admiral without looking back, without specifying who 'you' or 'them' were. Not that he needed to. Blackleg Sanji cracked his neck and placed a cigarette between his lips before glancing to his right, to the Demon of the East Blue who answered with a toothy grin.
"Try to keep up, cook!"
"Way ahead of you, marimo!"
And he was. Legs ablaze, Sanji jumped up into the air as if gravity didn't mean a thing to him. He twisted midair, rolled over and his shoes slammed into a marine's face. The sickening sound of a neck snapping was what send them all into motion. Marines shouted, Usopp screamed, Nami ducked, Zoro mowed through a line of attackers. Guts spilled, blood sprayed and Nami was distracted by her own fight.
When she got a moment to breathe again, most of the others were still close to her, engaged in their own skirmishes. Robin twisted a neck, Brook's sword clashed with a soldier's blade. But way ahead of them, Zoro slammed through a fortress wall as if through plywood, using the momentum to butcher the sharp shooters behind it, a fountain of blood erupting around him. Sanji dropped from the sky like some kind of twisted avenging angel, leg extended, heel crushing a man's skull. Blood and brain matter soaked his dress pants and he laughed. "Thirty-four, marimo."
The bisected body of a soldier dropped before him into the mud like an offering. "Thirty-six. You're lagging behind."
Sanji gave the swordsman the finger. "I'm giving you a head-start, is all."
Zoro's grin around the sword hilt was broad and happy and blood-stained. "Tell yourself whatever you need to."
A foot shot out and kicked away the blade coming for Zoro's back. Zoro's sword decapitated a man taking aim at Sanji.
The Wings of the future Pirate King moved in perfect synchronicity, dodging, jumping, swirling around each other, counting kills and yelling insults. They wove around each other, always finding their way back to each other as if pulled in by an invisible line. Luffy got to soar and Zoro and Sanji would go down together, tethered to each other, drowning in a sea of blood of their own creation.
Everything about it was awfully poetic.
And messy, and violent, and monstrous.
They enjoyed this, Nami knew. They enjoyed the blood and the violence as much as their usual competition. They egged each other on, pushed each other further, reveled in watching the other kill and laugh in delight. They were an honorable demon and a vicious angel, fire and sea, volatile, erratic and oh so predictable. They were the same and entirely too different.
Rivalry, they called it. Love, Robin called it. Idiots, Nami thought.
Monsters, everybody else agreed.
They were the Wings of the future Pirate King and a pair of idiots who bickered and argued about everything and nothing at all. They were impossibly fast, inhumanely strong and laughably soft around their crew.
Swords sliced through marines. Bones shattered under fine dress shoes. Above all, Luffy snickered.
Their captain soared and Blackleg Sanji and the Demon of the East Blue kicked and slayed and butchered their way deeper into hell. Back to back, identical blood-stained smiles on their faces.
Rivals. Lovers. Idiots.
Monsters.