deviledlegs | IC ⚓ HADRIEL INBOX

[just as...planned?]

I never asked you to. [and then, after another bite, making it worse] I'm serious, she's got more energy than I can handle. You wouldn't believe it.

Not another word!

[These are the last words anyone would expect Sanji to say when discussing the sex lives of beautiful women. That is until they look up and see that he is desperately shoving the palm of his hand over his nose and mouth as blood spurts through his fingers and onto his plate.

Bon appetit.]

[oops?

Law instinctively starts up at the sight of blood, though it's a hot second later that he realizes the source and sits back down with a sigh. Idiot.]

Better get that under control. If you lose too much, I don't have an easy means of doing transfusions here.

[never mind when he finds out Mr. Nosebleed's rare type. Can't help you there, man]

I'm stronger than that now!

[Which means that, at one point, he had in fact not been. Congrats, Law. This may be a legit thing you have to worry about in the near future.]

But you can't just come out of nowhere and say something like that with a straight face! You can't, you can't!

[His voice is laughably hideous with his nostrils plugged and drowning, but his present humiliation is not his top priority here. Already, he's rocketing to his feet, scraping his chair across the floor, and rushing for the nearest sink.

Must. Save. Dinner.]

[hmm, yes, he smells a story, there. But as long as there's no blood on his pasta, he's just going to keep going.]

Too late, I just did.

[aww yeah the sass is back.]

You know, as the only competent physician around here, if you have any underlying conditions I haven't been made aware of, now's a good time to warn me.

["only" is, well, in his estimation. He's pretty sure Black Leg is a super-healthy dude, just from his quick assessments before landing on Dressrosa, but one never knows.]

[Sanji can't answer right away. He's busy battling the bleed. Some good, ol' mind-over-matter mental chanting later, he manages to hold his breath and pressure the shit out of his nose long enough to stem the flow. His answer, when it finally does come, is delivered from behind a wet rag.]

That's more Usopp's shtick. My symptoms will clear right up as soon as I deliver our leftovers to a few ladies in residence and can finally erase every shitty word you've said today from my poor, overworked brain.

[that brings out a rare chuckle from him]

I'm not sorry. If I have to suffer, someone else is going to share in it.

[there's a pause, a clink of utensils, and then more quietly:] Thanks. For the advice.

[He takes a moment to process that appreciation. Then he mirrors Law's chuckle with ease, even as he sidles back to save his dinner from his own blood splatter.]

You wanna thank me, get me more rice.

[well that is a fair price for advice. And also means more onigiri, so win-win]

Fine. I'll scrounge up another sack next time I head to or from the clinic.

Good man. I'll make a master chore boy of you yet.

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