FanFic_Fucker
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Summary
Jerked out of his reverie by the less than dulcet tones of his mentor, Sanji casts a wary eye over the dish in front of him, relieved when he finds it to be unharmed.
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There was someone else in the room now. They were speaking, but Sanji almost felt as though he were hearing their voice from deep beneath the waves: water rushing to fill his ears so that everything became muffled and warped, distorted. His vision dipped in and out for a few long stuttering moments, but just before everything fell into complete darkness, he could have sworn he saw a glimpse of Zoro’s horrified face.
Or
In which Sanji loses a hand and somehow Zoro handles it worse.
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Zoro has never cared about soulmates, so when Koshiro tells him his soulmate is dead, he doesn't feel sad. He thinks it's great, actually—he doesn't have to worry about love or feelings or shit like that. He doesn't need love in his life.
That is, until he meets the cook.
OR
Judge's experimentation "kills" Sanji's humanity, and so his soulmate thinks he is dead.
🐤🐤🐤
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Summary
“No!” Sanji snarls, heaving backwards, “I don’t want you near them!”
“Fuck you!” Zoro shouts back and presses forward. The blond throws a leg up to launch him back across the kitchen but Zoro growls and blocks him with Wado’s sheath.
“Zoro!” Sanji says his name like a curse as his hands are snatched up, tears spilling over. “You need to stay away from me.”
“I think we’ve been apart long enough, don’t you?” Zoro growled, gathering Sanji’s hands between his own and knocking their foreheads. His gray eye was a storm. Fury and despair in tumultuous waves.
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A Zosan twist on the hypothetical "What if Sanji left Whole Cake with the explosive cuffs and they were real." Follows to the end of the Wano arc. -
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Summary
Sanji’s just flung a bag of trash in the dumpster behind the All Blue when he hears the noise, a sort of low rumble that echoes through the narrow space.